I’m shaking. I might be dead. No, that can’t be true. I was dead and now I’m…not.

And it’s over. It’s actually over. All of it. Everything I’ve been working towards since I got here, since I found out I had this gift, since I found out I was the chosen one. The one thing I’ve focused all my energy on is finished.

And I won.

We all won. All these people who risked their lives, believed in me, and fought with me—we actually did it. So many sacrifices, so many people who willingly got hurt for this cause. They did it all for me, for this school, for the world of magic. I couldn’t be more thankful.

And I couldn’t be more tired.

I guess years and years of fighting these battles is finally starting to weigh on me. The exhaustion hits me like the Hogwarts Express. Mentally and physically, I’m deteriorating. And yet everyone around me is celebrating.

Cheering, laughing, hugging—the relief and joy is evident on everyone’s faces. I try to make all of them out, do one final mental headcount. But it’s hard. This school is massive, and we were being attacked from all sides. Everyone is so spread out, slowly congregating, but it’s too hard to get a good read.

I see the familiar faces of some teachers, some classmates, my friends. It’s a relief to see them, it is. But the more people that slip out into the courtyard, the more at join the growing party, the more my anxiety grows.

Because I haven’t seen you come out yet.

You were fighting the dementors with a few other classmates down by the quidditch field. I’d seen you run that way, but I never saw you come back. Don’t tell me that— Oh, God.

Things can’t end the way they did. Our story wasn’t finished. Hell, it had barely even started! What, years of friendship and hidden feelings? A few stolen kisses after late night studying sessions? Sharing chocolate frogs on the train? That can’t be it. I won’t let it be.

Even if I have dip into Dark Arts to make sure of it…

I start pushing through the crowds, seemingly hundreds of people who want to pat me on the back and paint my name across town. All I did was point my wand and scream a little spell! And all of it is worthless if— If…

Dammit.

I start shoving them away more forcefully, swimming through the masses until I can find some clean air to breathe. I’m quick on my feet as I rush toward the corridors, hearing people call after me, all confusion and concern. I tune it out, chasing after something that might not even exist.

The sound of my heartbeat is too loud in my ears as I run, battered shoes slapping against the stone floors. My chest burns, my head is dizzy and there might be tears welling in my eyes with every second that passes that I don’t spot you.

I turn the corner, the top of the pitch and stands in view—still nothing. My feet falter, heartbreak settling in. It’s overwhelming in the worst way. Polar opposite of the overwhelming feeling I had when I actually defeated Voldemort. My steps slow, now just a hard thud against the damaged floor beneath me.

I almost fall to my knees.

Almost.

“Harry!” your voice has me keeping my balance, like a symphony of angelic trumpets playing me up to heaven.

My gaze whips to the right, seeing you all the way at the end of long and dreary hall. But you light it up like you’re a walking lumos charm. You’re just as bruised and tattered as I am. War evident on your features. But, God, you’ve never looked more beautiful.

Our legs work in sync and on autopilot as they close the gap between us. Rushing, running and out of breath. I feel like I could cry for a whole other reason at the sight of your cheesy smile as you race toward me.

We collide in the middle, two broken bodies becoming whole again in our embrace. Your hands grip my ripped clothing tightly, like you’re afraid it’s a dream. My hands skirt over you, checking for damages.

And then you’re kissing me. Just like before, but so different. It’s rushed and messy and so perfect. It feels like forever.

God, we were stupid before. How could we be so blind to this kind of love?