"You saw it?" Eli's voice was heavier than the night.
The Death Eaters retreated at Voldemort's command, leaving behind only shattered ruins and corpses strewn across the ground.
The thousand-year-old castle had endured the trials of time, yet it had failed to withstand the oppression of darkness, and was ultimately left riddled with scars.
The night was steeped in the stench of blood, dark and suffocating. Harry walked out in a daze.
Eli looked as though he had been waiting here for a long time, but the bloodstains on his hands, not yet fully dried, spoke of his lengthy contemplation just moments ago.
Harry merely nodded. His gaze had gone hollow, like Snape's had once been. No matter how one looked at it, there seemed to be boundless depths hidden beneath those eyes.
"How is he?" Harry walked over to Eli and leaned against the railing. Unfortunately, the railing had long since collapsed, leaving him crooked and listless.
"He used a lot of medicine. Madam Pomfrey has practically exhausted every trick she has. I guarantee that once the professor wakes up, Madam Pomfrey will force him to stay in the infirmary for a whole year."
Eli looked at Harry, but unfortunately, his joke was not amusing enough to brighten Harry's face.
Eli let out a long sigh, filled with nothing but helplessness.
Harry gazed at the dark forest in the distance. He had once wanted to follow the Weasley twins into it and take a look many times, but now it was to become his burial ground.
He did not cry or make a scene. It was not that he was pretending to be calm; rather, nothing he had experienced had taught him how to react to a situation like this.
"Will I die?" After a long silence, Harry finally