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From the Rubble

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The houses stop mattering when the dust settles and the battle is over. Students likeDraco, Hermione, Luna and Hannah are not divided by their houses but united in the fact that they have survived. They are surrounded by friends, enemies and people they never even noticed before who were not so lucky. The alive look gaunt and broken while the dead look cold and yet peaceful.

Draco's ears are filled by the constant sobs from those left behind and the repeated thanks from his own mother that his family has escaped unscathed. Soon someone will notice them and put them in a cell somewhere but they don't even try to escape. Draco doesn't think he could move if he tried. He just keeps looking around, watching gryffindors pull dirt covered slytherins from under rubble, watches them shake hands and put the past to rest. There are not purebloods and mudbloods anymore, just alive and dead.

Her badger is covered in blood and her body trembles with the aftereffects of a curse but Hannah holds her head up high. Never again could someone label her weak because of her house. She'd stayed and she'd fought and she'd killed. Hermione meets her eyes, limping towards the Weasleys, and they share a half smile. It feels wrong to be proud to alive. Proud to have been more efficient killers than the witches and wizards trying to kill them first. Yet that is what it is. They trained in secret and risked it all and they lived because of it.