The one word that entered Harry’s head as he looked at the dull-eyed silence of the others.
A single word that took up residence in his mind; that usurped all other thoughts, jettisoned them like unwanted garbage. Good, bad: happy, sad.
All passed, all gone.
His mind was a barren landscape, flat, featureless, drab, lacking everything except this one word.
There were vast expanses of space, lightless and empty, holding greater interest. There were rocks, colourless and sterile, existing in an emptiness in which billions of uneventful years passed, that had greater interest.
Nothing consumed them.