He tried to push through the crowd, but there were so many in his way. The rush of his own blood pounding through his skull was penetrated only by the sound of Ginny’s screams while Voldemort’s chanted that Harry was dead over and over. He fought further to the front until he could make out Hagrid’s looming form carrying Harry’s body. Like a mantra he had to keep reminding himself that Harry was not in fact dead. He would know.