A/N: Ignores most of DH and all of Epilogue. Touch and go. Subject to revisions at any time because of complications. This story is meant to be a romantic tragedy, I don't want to spoil the ending, but you won't be disappointed. This is an alternative version of various details of the war and the lives of our favorite characters after. Despite some in-depth attention to Harry, Hermione, and Ron, this is a Granger/Malfoy romance.

Summary: They had triumphed. They were now free to live their lives. But all they wanted in the wake of new beginnings was to disappear. But Draco Malfoy, perplexed, disgusted, and still a pompous bastard refuses to let them fade in peace without first facing their fears. "Get over it, Granger. Life goes on. It always has and always will." HGDM

Disclaimer: I own the plot bunnies only; everything else is Rowling's.

Introduction: Time Never Forgets

Before the world had always been spinning, spinning, spinning, and exploding. Bright like fireworks and deadly spells. Greens and reds and whites and blues. They were pumping through their veins, spreading from their blood stream and into muscles and bones. Into their souls. From here to there, always here, always there. Never standing still. Forever moving. Forever searching. Forever fighting. Forever doing. Until the end, Harry. Until the end. They told him. Until the end. He confirmed. Until they weren't forever anymore. Until forever became yesterday and today became something new. Something that stuck their feet to the ground and put them on the spot, frightened and confused. Something that released all the fireworks from their blood. Something that drained them.

The day Harry Potter cast the spell that finished Voldemort forever ended. It was monumental. It was the long-awaited end of the story. They had succeeded. They had triumphed. They were the heroes. Everyone applauded, tears of happiness and relief mingled with grief streaming, pouring down heavy. Claps on the back and fierce hugs, kisses on the cheeks, on the mouth, gripping handshakes.

But when Harry lowered his wand, he felt it leave him. And when his hand returned to his side and his eyes found theirs, they felt it leave them too. But they didn't know what it was or what it meant; they weren't ready for it to end. They tried to leap into action again. Recovering bodies and putting names with faces. Making a list, stopping a few times to breathe and choke back sobs. Forgetting to breathe again when they were hit with the knowledge that victory doesn't always guarantee a happy ending. Whatever it was that kept them together, whatever it was that kept them going, whatever it was that made them heroes, it had gone with the end and left them cold and dry. It was sucked painfully out of their souls, out of their bones and muscles, out of their bloodstreams, and away.

The enemy was gone and he took with it their rage-induced adrenaline. But didn't it know they needed it? They had become addicted, they didn't know how to live any other way.

Because After… the world stopped spinning, bright lights stopped exploding, and everything became grey. Because they weren't really heroes and didn't really want to be heroes in the first place and sometimes, only sometimes they wished the war hadn't ended because at least then they would have something to do. They would know why to do. And, more importantly, they would still have forever with no time to lose. Now they just had today, endlessly stretching out before them, not knowing what to do with it or why to do anything at all.

And when the mess was gone, the cameras flashed with blinding lights and ignored reporters, feeling scorned, such as Rita Skeeter, wrote lengthy articles on the Trio's sudden superiority complex, to which new Minister of Magic, Shackelbolt Kingsley, promptly responded by ordering The Daily Prophet recall all copies, issue a statement of apology, and refuse all future articles from the nasty witch indefinitely. But they didn't.

Harry, Hermione, and Ron made one public appearance when they each took the stand for Narcissa and Draco Malfoy, ensuring Narcissa a full-pardon and Draco a partial pardon. He was sentenced to house-arrest for 6 months and probation for two years without the use of magic. Lucius Malfoy was declared guilty and sentenced to five years in Azkaban. Neville Longbottom was declared a hero but he humbly refused this praise and took a job as the Herbology professor at Hogwarts. Luna Lovegood's father retired and she became the new editor of The Quibbler. Fred and George Weasley closed down their shop for a year in order to grieve over their losses, while Fleur and Bill took up temporary lodging at the Burrow to stay close to Mrs. Weasley. Charlie, Percy, Mr. Weasley and Ginny were buried in the same plot. Their faces on the clock faded. Mrs. Weasley wept every morning and every evening, but busied herself with cooking and cleaning during the day.

Harry Potter wept bitterly at the grave of Ginny Weasley, Ronald Weasley drank himself blind on the day set for his father's funeral, and Hermione Granger still had not visited the grave of her parents and was afraid to go back to their empty home.

The fight that had thrived within them had been replaced with a deep and painful ache. An ache no dreamless sleep drought could hide, an ache no amount of firewhiskey could dull, an ache no pensieve could make you forget, an ache no one could ever fill. It throbbed day and night, it pounded constantly. Ron had to remind himself to eat, but even then most times he didn't. Harry had to force himself out of bed, but he never got up before two in the afternoon. Hermione had to remember how to breathe but sometimes she forgot she was even supposed to.

Time wouldn't let them forget the war. Time wouldn't let them forget what happened, what they had done and what it had done to them.

But time, that threatened to get the better of them, that mocked them by looming so far out in front, scared them into action. Ron signed on with the Chudley Cannons. Hermione took a job at Flourish & Blotts but turned down an offer to write the newest version of A History of Magic. Harry bought a flat in muggle London and secured a job in a small coffee shop in order to avoid spending days alone.

The three met twice every month. One visit in Harry's coffee shop, the Corner Espresso, and the other at a quaint little shop in Wizarding London-The Cauldron. They made small talk for the first fifteen minutes and spent the next fifteen in silence, uncomfortably aware of each other's pain but unwilling to talk about it.

But slowly as they used time up, they each began to practice vanishing. Because to disappear… would be like not really existing at all. And the ache that made it so hard to keep going might be easier to bear if no one else could see it.

000

A/N: I chose to begin with this introduction to set the story up. The following chapters will not follow in this specific narrative style.

Enjoy. :)

Chelsea