Disclaimer: I do NOT own Harry Potter. Sadly, I am not J.K. Rowling.

Chapter One - Breathe

"That wand's more trouble than it's worth," said Harry. "And quite honestly," he turned away from the painted portraits, thinking now only of the four-poster bed lying waiting for him in Gryffindor Tower, adn wondering whether Kreacher might bring him a sandwich there, "I've had enough trouble for a lifetime."

Excerpt from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

The story continues...

Harry awoke some time later, feeling the warm sun on his face and the soft fabric of his sheets beneath his skin. He didn't open his eyes right away, however. He couldn't believe that it was over. He didn't believe that it was over. It had to have all been a dream. He would wake up now, still lying in the tent in the country side. Hermione must have opened up the top to let the sun in. Yes, that was what the warmth he felt on his face was. And he was obviously imagining the feel of his sheets, yes, now that he thought about it, that did feel like more like a sleeping bag.

His eyes flew open. Who was he kidding? He wasn't sleeping in some goddamn tent in some goddamn sleeping bag on some goddamn hill. He was sleeping on sheets, with a quilt and a comforter and a warm pillow beneath his head. And, if he wasn't mistaken, which he wasn't, there was a mattress, a solid real-life mattress beneath him. Impossible. He fumbled for his glasses and rammed them onto his head. His dorm room for the past seven years came into focus. Harry could've almost cried he was so happy. But of course, he didn't. Still, he was back here. He was really back here, in the place that he loved, the place that had been the closest thing to a home he had ever had. But why? Why the hell was he in his bed in Gryffindor tower?

With a staggering blow to his heart, his mind, his soul, and his body, he remembered everything. He remembered Snape's memories. He remember his parents shadowy forms in the forest. He remembered dying. He remembered meeting Dumbledore in King's Cross. He remembered life again. He remembered the sweet, exhausting, painful, heart wrenching, wonderful, disgusting, glorious, unearthly feel of victory in his hands. Most of all, he remembered Fred and Lupin and Tonks and Colin Creevy and everyone else. He remembered Ginny. Ginny.

He felt so overwhelmed. The anger, the sadness, the pain, and the terror did not fill him up. He was overwhelmed with unfelt emotions, unseen thoughts, unshared feelings. He didn't know what he was feeling. It was all too impossible, too complicated, to sort out.

"Don't forget to breathe." He told himself quietly. He took a few deep breaths and lay back down on his pillow, staring at the blank ceiling and tracing the scar on his forehead with his fingertips.

How had he done it? How had he made it through? He thought back to seeing Ginny comforting a young girl as he walked to his death. It has taken every ounce of free will in his body to keep walking.

Ginny. Where was she? He needed to find her. He needed to find her to tell her he was sorry. To tell her he had never stopped caring for her, and that that wasn't the reason he had broken it off. He slowed himself down. What was he thinking? He had basically broken Ginny's heart. Ron had made that clear at the end of last summer. He hadn't spoken to her for a year; he hadn't even given any indication to her that he was alive. Then he had proceeded to try and stop her from fighting in the battle, which he knew probably didn't go over well with her. And he had passed by her, on the way to his death, without saying a word. Without saying goodbye. If she ever found out, which inevitably, she would, she probably wouldn't speak to him for weeks. She wouldn't understand that he had done it because he cared for her too much to allow himself to stop. He smiled a bit to himself, remembering her feistiness, and her fiery passion in everything. It melted off his face one second later. Smiling? Why are smiling, you git? You've gone and lost her forever, thanks to your sodding nobility. Stupidity, more like, at least to Ginny.

Harry came out of his thoughts a few minutes later and an eerie voice sounded in his head. Where is everyone? Shouldn't there be more people here? The dormitory was definitely empty, and he would have heard any noise in the common room below. In fact, the castle itself seemed utterly quiet. Harry got a foreboding sense that it was...empty. Harry leapt up before he could control himself. He was wearing an old set of jeans, so ripped and torn and dirty, you could hardly tell they were jeans, and a plain grimy green t-shirt. He had fallen asleep in his robes, but now they were twisted in a bundle at the base of his bed. He didn't give a thought to his appearance, however. He leapt down the stairs into the abandoned common room. There had been another attack made when he was asleep. He just knew it. How could he have been so stupid? How could he have thought that the threat was gone?

He scrambled out of the portrait hole, looking around for anyone to talk to, but the fat lady was missing from her large portrait, and the hall around was deserted. He sprinted towards the main staircase and turned to run down it, when he saw Ron and Hermione walking towards him, chatting nonchalantly and smiling shyly at eachother.

"Ron...Hermione!!" he gasped, leaning down and supporting himself by resting his hands on his knees. They both looked up, startled.

"Harry!" Hermione cried with delight. "We were just about to come up and wake you. Ron wanted to wake you earlier, but I said you deserved a few extras hours sleep." She smiled kindly at him. Harry was bewildered. He looked from Hermione to Ron to Hermione again.

"But...but...where were you? You guys were gone, and Gryffindor tower was deserted, and...and, I thought there had been another attack or something."

"Harry...mate, we've been down at breakfast. Everyone was. McGonagall had some announcements to make." Ron said this with a kind, concerned expression on his face that reminded Harry of the summer before his fifth year, when everyone acted like he was a bomb about to explode. The same angry feelings he had felt then flared up inside him again, and he glared at Ron.

"You can't just leave like that. Everyone was gone. Everyone. Why wouldn't I have thought something had happened. It's not like there wasn't a war going on less than 24 hours ago."

"Harry...Harry," Hermione soothed, "we thought you might've just wanted some extra sleep, that's all, you've been up for days."

"Still, just, it scared me, I mean, the war, things could still be dangerous."

"Harry, the danger's gone. McGonagall made that quite clear to us," Ron said, a content expression in his eyes.

"Honestly, Harry, do you think if some Death Eaters attacked, which they didn't, they would have emptied the Gryffindor common room and just overlooked the man who had just killed their "Lord". I think not." Harry exhaled quietly. Of course. Why had he been so stupid?

"I'm sorry. I just think I'm still paranoid about everything. I'm really going to have to get used to the fact that everything is okay now. That I don't have to worry about Voldemort attacking, or Death Eaters finding out where I am. I'm safe. We're all safe." He said the last word with a tone a finality. This was it. He had done it. "So...is McGonagall still talking down there? I want to here what she says about everything." He started to make his way down the steps, but felt a firm hand grab his arm.

"Uhm...I don't think you want to do that," Ron said uneasily.

"Why not?"

"Well, do you really want all the attention people would give you if you went down there now? All those people, sitting in one room..." Harry's eyes widened. He imagined hundreds of people clapping and cheering, not thinking for a moment about Fred or Lupin or Tonks, or all that Hermione and Ron had done for him. Without them, he would be dead 50 times over. Probably more. No, that was the last thing he wanted.

Without saying a word, he turned around and starting making his way back up the stairs towards Gryffindor tower. Ron and Hermione followed, and Harry called over his shoulder, "How 'bout you too just fill me in?". The three laughed like old times and made their way back to the common room.