Chapter Text
Harry rolled out of Hagrid’s arms, dropping to a crouch on the stone below. The courtyard was filled with rubble, some from the towers above, some from the outdoor space itself, large stone slabs torn from the ground and strewn about, dirt and moss clinging to their undersides.
He didn’t have time to contemplate what the rest of the castle looked like, although he imagined it was far worse. His eyes caught a splash of maroon on a nearby stone, dried blood.
He didn’t dare wonder who it belonged to.
Harry drew his wand, his focus snapping to Voldemort. This was it. Step by step he had been led to this moment, drawn forward by fate, by magic, by the people around him, and by himself at times. He was not an innocent passenger in his journeys. His stubborn nature, his anger, his grief, his desire, deep down, for revenge, had placed him in the courtyard as much as anyone or anything else. He could have taken the train at King’s Cross, after all, could have sat in a seat and wondered if the trolley would come round with Pumpkin Pasties.
But he hadn’t.
No, Harry had come back and now it would be over, now the war would—
Voldemort apparated.
Gone.
Like that, like nothing, just gone, just the empty air where he’d been but wasn’t anymore.
Silence hung heavy in the air. The crack of his departure lingering. Harry’s ears rang.
All that and Voldemort had left?
Coward.
They should have known, should have done something, put up more defenses, but the chaos of the battle had prevented such forethought. Voldemort had taken down the wards around Hogwarts so he and his followers could get in.
That also meant he could get out.
Coward.
Harry turned towards his fellow students, towards his professors, towards people he considered family. He lowered his wand and stared at them, dumbfounded and in shock, left with one burning question:
What now?