snaples | Post Mortem [ 2/? | PG-13

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Post Mortem
The Alienation (2/?)
by Snaples
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They sit in an imperfect circle of survivors and soldiers amid the ruins of what had once been the Great Hall, Wizards and Witches stripped of all but their purpose. Some are permanently disfigured by field magic. Others have dressed wounds from swords and blades.

Remus is here too, a thick bandage on his neck where Macnair’s axe nearly lopped his head off. He looks up but doesn’t smile. At his side, a black dog sleeps curled against his thigh. Harry knows it isn’t Sirius but he still wonders if Remus does.

Harry expects no acclaim as he sits at the edge of the circle, but he does feel a pang of disappointment at the apathy that greets him. He also notes that Snape does not sit down. He stands paces behind Harry, continuing to refuse to break bread with those who believe he should be on the pyres burning.

The provisional government is chanting in the background, eerily encouraging the flames to lick at their enemy.

Remus looks down and nibbles from his plate. He says, "We managed to secure quarters at Hogsmeade. The rebuilding effort should begin in the morning." Harry nods and lays his sword over his crossed knees. He senses the people beside him shift away. In the distance he can see Molly drifting around another circle, offering wine and food with the care and attention of a mother who has lost her husband and most of her children. But Fred does not need attention. He finds solace in his thoughts and memories and shuns the rest.

Harry feels the emotion tighten in his chest.

But he will not cry.

"I think that’s--" Before he can finish his sentence, a man jumps into the circle with a dagger in his hand. Harry scrambles clumsily to his feet.

"My boy ... you killed my boy ... you let those murderers kill MY BOY," he screams and lunges for Harry, who remains paralyzed in shock. He hears the slide of a blade seconds before he sees its tip pressed against the man’s throat. The circle falls silent, and Harry breathes slowly, feeling the warmth of Snape pressed behind him.

"Remove yourself," hisses Snape.

This is wrong, Harry thinks. The war should be over.

But he finds very little sympathy to encourage him otherwise. Even Remus seems to have lost interest in all but offering the dog at his side a bit of food.

The man backs away, the hatred ugly in his face.

Snape, his sword still extended, presses his free hand on Harry’s shoulder. "We should not be here." Harry is enthralled by the steadiness of the sword as it hangs suspended from the man’s hand.

He finally nods, mumbling his assent, and they leave the circle. Harry wishes for someone to call him back.

He only hears the silence of a beaten people, eating and mourning.

As they walk, Snape sheathes his sword and says, "What did you expect, Potter? Praise? Celebrity?"

He hates the word and says nothing.

Snape shakes his head. "Heroes who survive are seldom celebrated."

Harry wonders if he is a monster for having hoped otherwise.

END