A/N: Just an idea my friend had and decided to post this up. Heads up that this is going to be a powerful Harry fic with a pairing with Ginny being likely, although it's not concrete at this point.

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING. ALL HARRY POTTER RELATED STUFF BELONGS TO JK ROWLING.

A lone man clad in dark blue robes sat next to a stone. To be specific, a tombstone. To be more specific, a multitude of tombstones. Flowers laid afresh on the graves; the testimony of the constant visits by the man. Looking wider, the new Hogwarts having finished reconstruction months ago. The lake still had its giant squid, and the Forbidden Forest was still… forbidden. Except that it no longer really posed a major threat. Now enough of this, back to the man.

The man sighed as he traced the hairline cracks and imperfections on the tombstone. Three lines of words spelled what he had lost.

Ginerva Molly "Ginny" Weasley

Born: August 11, 1981

Died: December 25, 1997

The man looked on. There beyond was his best mate, Ron. Right next to it, Hermione. Not too far, more familiar names were etched on more stones. Albus Dumbledore, Severus Snape, and they continued… Nearly all the professors died when Voldemort assaulted Hogwarts and razed it to the ground. Not just the professors, countless number of those too weak to fight. The man broke his melancholy thoughts and looked at the new Hogwarts and smiled. No more bloodshed. No more hiding. No more killing. No more worries. No more pain. No more of his previous grievances of life. Just a future that everyone who fought Voldemort wanted. No more of house rivalries, no more misconceptions of different creatures and beings that were used by politics and history. The thoughts of the future gave the man strength to live on and continue his life to bury his past. He slowly stood up and took off his sweater with a large H&G on it and laid it on the grave. He waved his hand and the sweater clung to the grave. With that, he started walking away and gave one last glace back, to whisper, "Goodbye Ginny. I will never forget you." And with that, he sealed the knowledge of the cemetery from everybody except for him. And even then, he vowed to never look back. Stepping on random twigs and leaves as he walked through the forest, he didn't notice the dart that shot from a treetop. A burst of flame appeared and took the dart with the ashes falling on the man. Alert now, the man looked around to feel a slight prick on his arm, which was all the man felt before he collapsed on the forest floor. The assassin smirked; the boy who lived is no more. A blonde haired man calmly approached the assassin.

"You rid of Potter? Good… so you want the payment now Mr. Gregor?" the blonde asked as he held a sack of galleons.

The assassin eyed the galleons greedily, "Most certainly Mr. Malfoy."

A gunshot rang out in the forest and another man collapsed onto the forest floor.

"Goodnight Mister."

(PAGE BREAK)

Harry walked away from the graves and thought of the new students coming this term. He smiled as he thought of how he was the youngest headmaster the school ever had. This meant he had privileges that old goat had and imagined what Sirius would say. From an emaciated, nervous, and powerless boy to one of the greatest wizards of the century, defeater of Voldemort, Supreme Mugwump… ok that's enough. Sirius would probably be horrified by how un-Maraudererish he was becoming. And still a virgin? Man, Sirius is going to corner him until Sirius solves the "mid-life" crisis of being a virgin when he's only 21. Like that mattered right now. A flash of flame caught his eye and the ashes fell on him. What did Fawkes protect him from? Before he could further muse, a prick in Harry's arm stopped his random musings and was the last thoughts he had.

Harry blearily saw something like Platform 9 ¾, but was shrouded in heavy mist. People milled about, but he couldn't talk to them. He didn't recognize anyone for the matter. It was slightly unnerving to him. Suddenly, everything blacked out again.

Harry saw things flash by quickly. A man who looked like him except with hazel colored eyes and a carefree expression held a giggling baby, a boy who looked like him proudly holding a Nimbus 2000, the same boy again holding a trophy of sorts, then shifting to one where the boy received his OWL results letter. A different boy then appeared, who looked similar, but had the hazel eyes, red hair, and a little bit better filled out who was laughing with this copy of him about something, shifting to another scene where they were dueling each other, and shifting to one where they were sneaking around Hogwarts with the cloak and map. After that, Harry saw no more.

Harry opened his eyes, feeling like it was years before he opened them. He reflexively moved his fingers and touched the blanket. His fingers responded to his commands with no problems and proceeded get out of bed and stand up. His feet hit the soft carpet and he stretched. Wait a minute, why is he in a bedroom? Wasn't he supposed to be heading back to the castle? And who decided to make his room so homey and comfy anyways? He felt in his pocket the trunk he brought with him that contained his vital possessions and a quantity of gold. It was still there. Memories of his death flashed and Harry staggered a little. Wait, so he should be dead. Now why is he alive and well and what the hell is this place? Yeah, it's nice to have a broom on the wall and a room he would have died to get when he was younger, but he wasn't into that right now. Seeing the door, Harry pondered if he should open it. Remembered he should be ready, Harry involuntarily remembered the old auror who kept making constant vigilance his punch line where ever he was. Heh, he didn't pay attention and paid with his life… or what it seems like. Or did he get drugged by previous death eaters? He frantically felt the wand holsters on his arms and sure enough, he still had a wand on each arm. He pulled them out and let his magic flow and both wands responded with a burst of red sparks. No way was he drugged; he would have no wands and his trunk would probably be taken. Deciding to answer questions instead of making more, Harry started by looking into the mirror and immediately gasped. He didn't have the scar anymore and even better, his scars from the war were gone. Even more surprising was his body which had de-aged as he could describe it. He was shorter and his skin was smoother, but they still retained the smooth lithe muscles he built from training. Thinking of McGonagall, he smirked at the thought of her staring open mouthed and asking him how he managed to look so young. Actually, that's disturbing… Harry decided to banish the thought from his mind. He opened the door and it was a bedroom in the end of a short hall that led to a set of stairs. Hearing some talk and laughter downstairs, Harry decided he was going to figure what the ruckus was about. Before he could get past the second to last bedroom in the hall, a little red blur slammed into his leg.

A/N: This is my first HP fic, so any advice is appreciated. Thanks for reading and expect an update in a couple days.