It was full on crying. Tears streamed down Harry's face and his shoulders shook. He couldn't help it! Once he had sat down, once he had tried opening up to Ron, the dam broke and it was all he could do not to grab a hold of Ron and cry himself raw.
Harry tried to answer his friend's question, but to no avail, and eventually just shook his head. No, no one was dead. But he might as well be. Not only would Draco or Blaise or Adrian or anyone else, really, be likely to seek out revenge, but Harry himself... He wasn't himself. He couldn't presume to think he was the same person now as he had been before all of this. Naive, that's what he had been, despite everything that had happened in the war. Naive to believe that his world could be improved, that he was going to do some good by working for this government. That was so obviously not the case that it was laughable.
The three men's screams echoed in his ears and Harry shook his head again. No, no one was dead, but he wanted to be.