Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling; therefore, I own (and am making money from) nothing in this fictional piece of work.
Author's Note: This is a one-shot because I was bored and depressed.
The blood pooled around their heads, trickling down the rocks as the little hollow filled to its brim. The countryside around them was a wasteland of crumbled rubble and shattered bodies. Hogwarts could be seen looming above them in the distance, silhouetted against a backdrop of a full moon. The cries of the dying could be heard all around them, bitter screams of agony and lives lost far too quickly. If one were merely a casual observer of this field, they would scarcely be able to tell who was a Death Eater and who had died for the cause of good. Despite all that had occurred, the broken bodies were no different. Each was without a soul, and each was as equally dead inside as the next.
The blood pooled around their heads, but no one on the field noticed. The majority of those still moving were in the process of dying themselves. The few that were left still breathing paid no heed to the death surrounding them. What were a few dead friends when the Dark Lord had finally been defeated? Of course, they would mourn for their families and lost friendships, but they would hold no regret in their hearts. They would not consider themselves the unlucky ones.
The blood pooled around their heads as the medi-witches and wizards flittered around, seeking out any who could have possibly survived. Occasionally they would flutter or twitter about, but that was only when they recognized someone who they considered to have died too soon. They held no pity for the dead, and very little for those too far gone to save. They, like the other survivors, were happy enough just being alive themselves.
The blood pooled around their heads, sticking to the shoes of the three individuals hovering above them. Whispered voices permeated the air around them as the figures noted the firm grip one still had on the other, but it didn't matter. Hushed condolences were uttered as one patted the other on the back carefully, but that didn't matter either. A book was placed on the chest of one as someone else adjusted the glasses on the face of the other. They were horn-rimmed, and the book was Hogwarts; A History.