Survivors

Survivors

The world was black. No light shimmered through the black clouds that hung over the dead and rotten corpses scattered all over the sea, the land and the mountains. Black creatures swarmed all over the place, a faint feeling of triumph written over their hooded faces.

No life could be seen, heard or felt other than that of the Dementors who seemed to be searching for remaining souls, breaths.

Water splashed against the coast near the prison which would have sent a shiver through everyone's body, had there been a living human being left.

A battlefield maybe. Or the apocalypse. You couldn't have told.

Then escaping souls, trying to find loved ones, hardly aware of being dead themselves.

1998 years of fighting bad wizards but also 1998 years of fighting good ones.

Suddenly whispers could be heard. Faint whispers that showed respect for the dead, or maybe fear.

There still was life. A battlefield then, no apocalypse.

Six people raised from the ground, human beings, not only souls looking for peace.

Their hands clutched wooden sticks, wands.

No dark magic needed to be applied to get rid of the frightening and cold hooded creatures looming over the dead. Too trained where the witches and wizards now.

And only needing confirmation of the others being fine, they silenced while walking through the seemingly endless rows of people, loved ones, killed in action.

Three pairs were formed, unconsciously. Six people who had survived, six out of thousands.

Luna Lovegood, Ravenclaw.

Neville Longbottom, Gryffindor.

Susan Bones, Hufflepuff.

Blaise Zabini, Slytherin.

Ron Weasley, Gryffindor.

Hermione Granger, Gryffindor.

They knew the others were dead. They could feel the cold even though they had successfully driven away the Dementors.

Nothing could be done. The survivors would eventually take their loved ones, the people that were killed in this life-changing and life-ending battle, even the bad ones, and bury them but for now, they silently made their way back to a boat nearby, knowing they would have to illuminate the world for a long time before the sun would rise again.

They hardly fit in one boat, but they wanted to stay together, just as the sorting hat had once advised them to, though knowing that their lives would no longer be overshadowed by fear and death.

Harry Potter was dead, yes, but so was Lord Voldemort. Harry Potter would always be remembered as the one who saved the wizarding world, but only by those six people who had survived. A memorial would be built, of course, but it would hardly be able show how much the world had to pay. It would hardly be able express the significance of every person lost in the battle, lost in the war.

The six lived their lives in peace, starting new families, their families, and loving them and loving their lives and thanking every day that out of thousands of people, they were the lucky ones who had survived.

And eventually, the wizarding world would again be big enough to open shops, to open a school and to form a new government but yes, it would take time.