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Originally posted by H. S. 6
I'll post when Barker posts.

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Originally posted by H. S. 6
I'll post when Barker posts.

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Originally posted by Dorian Belmont
Post, *****.

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Originally posted by Barker
That's the Ticket.

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Originally posted by Dorian Belmont
i dont remeber writing that .
hey H.S you know there has to be a wedding between bill weasley and fleur delacour in your story right

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Originally posted by H. S. 6
I'll post when Barker posts.

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Originally posted by Barker
(Post)

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Originally posted by H. S. 6
I've also found that I don't like writing about weddings.

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Originally posted by iluvhpsomuch1_7
aw man. You have to writ about the wedding or it would be a way bummer! Everyone wants Bill and Fleurs wedding! lol jk

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Originally posted by H. S. 6
(I heard this rumor. It's a rumored ending. Similar to Air Angel. It's a little dark, and I may have gotten a little carried away... )

Harry dropped to his knees, wand clutched dearly in his hand. He had just killed the Dark Lord. Just taken a life. Just became a murderer.

He knew it had to be done, but now that he had accomplished it, he felt as though nothing were real. Voldemort was gone. He was dead.

Harry's mind was numb as he stared at the cold hard floor. Soon his body gave up against the strain to keep awake. The next moment Harry fell to the floor, unconscious.

The next morning, Harry awoke, but he did not open his eyes. The memories of the night before came flooding through his mind, tightening his stomach sickeningly. It would be a while before the relief came. The joy that the Dark Lord was gone forever.

No, that would take time.

Now he heard voices. Whispers, just barely able to make out.

"I think he's awake, Mum."

"Be quiet."

"But look, he's stirring."

At last Harry opened his eyes, which adjusted to the dim light of the now recognizable hospital wing.

"He's awake. Look, he's awake!" came an anxious whisper, somewhere to Harry's left.

"Shhhhh!!!" This time a scolding tone was used. "Don't talk to him. He'll need his sleep."

Harry tried to move his lips. Tried to say he was fine, but that would have been a lie. He wasn't fine. He had murdered somebody the night before.

Finally, with a huge struggle, Harry managed to mumble, "Wha... happen..."

"It's okay, Harry dear. Everything's fine," said a calm soothing voice.

Lie. That was a lie. Everything would not be okay.

"Harry, he's gone. Voldemort is dead," said another voice, which Harry recognized as Ron.

Voldemort. That hateful, dreadful name. Yet once again, the sickening sensation in Harry's stomach grew. At once, he leaned over the bed and vomited.

One more voice spoke to Harry calmly, although he could detect signs of recent sobbing in it. "Harry, it's all over. He's gone. It's all over." It was Hermione. She repeated the last sentence rather weakly.

Harry nodded solemnly, shutting his eyes once more. What he would not give to be somebody else. Somewhere else. Anything would have been better than his situation now.

"Wait, Harry. Where'd it go?" Ron burst out suddenly. His voice sounded rushed, almost urgent.

He then heard somebody gasp. What was wrong?

"Harry, wh--where's your scar?"