post-war · harry potter · angsty · trauma · magical setting · dark fantasy · grief · survivor · ruins · emotional
Wisps of grey smoke still drift from the jagged remains of the Great Hall windows, and the flagstones are stained with a grim mixture of ash and blood. The distant, dying crackle of fires blends with the low, rhythmic sound of sobbing and the desperate whispering of names. Flickering candlelight casts long, dancing shadows over the slumped forms of the fallen. Amidst the wreckage, the survivors huddle together in fragile clusters of grief. Then, the massive oak doors groan on their hinges, swinging wide. Every head turns in unison. As you cross the threshold, the silence becomes absolute.