I know, I know, another AU story! But this is different, trust me!

Chapter One: The Ocean Breathes Salty

Come back. Even as a shadow, even as a dream.
-Euripides

Third person POV

"Harry," Hermione called out, walking over to the nearly catatonic, dark haired boy. He was sitting in his funeral wear, though for the two friends, siblings in everything but blood, it felt like they never changed out of their black clothing as it was funeral after funeral.

Hermione looked on with only a little anger, as she wished she could sit there unresponsive. She wished she was the one who was allowed to break down, but she had to stay strong, especially when the funeral just now was for Remus and Tonks. She knew, from the look of pain and horror on Harry's face, he was remembering the Unforgivable that he used almost instinctively on Lucius, not just killing the Death Eater, but removing a piece of himself as well. Hermione frowned, before kneeling down beside him.

"Harry."

Neville, noticing the situation, walked over as well, and he shared a look with the girl, unbeknownst to the bespectacled boy on the ground.

"C'mon mate, no one's blaming you," He said firmly. Harry smiled darkly.

"You should. Voldemort wanted me and people died protecting me," Harry said bitterly. "I just want to be by myself for a second." The friends froze, unsure of how to respond to that, but Harry didn't notice, looking at his hands, holding them out as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing. The teenager, who was barely an adult, couldn't understand how his friends weren't able to see the blood covering his sinful hands. They were shaking, much like how one would shake from the after effects of the Cruciatus curse, a curse he had once used on Bellatrix. It was hard for him to rationalize with himself, that what happened because of him and what he had done wasn't damning. His jaw clenched. Hermione cleared her throat, but it was Luna who spoke.

"Things we lose have a way of coming back to us in the end, if not always in the way we expect," She said in her typical dreamlike, singsong-y way. Harry looked at her, eyes blank, but she could see by the tenseness of his shoulders, and the way his hands were furiously ripping the grass from the ground that he was in pain.

"Did you just quote yourself?" Harry asked, chuckling weakly. Luna gave him a reproachful smile.

"Harry, please," Hermione whispered, glancing over at Neville. Harry didn't look away from Luna.

"I'm sorry, 'Mione," Harry whispered, but even with that, Harry still turned away from them, and walked off. Neville reached a hand out, grabbing Harry's wrist, but he shook Neville off.

"No," Harry snapped. "I-I just need to be by myself, okay?" Neville, Luna and Hermione didn't want to see the breakdown that would happen if Harry wasn't allowed this closure, so they nodded, and left him alone. He only wanted some things, well; some people and all the people he wanted were unable to come back.

"Harry," Hermione said, glancing over at the green eyed boy. Currently, those green eyes were hard and reserved, and Hermione sighed, unable to read what his emotions were. "We don't have to do this. You don't even have to live here." Harry wasn't listening, simply looking up the stairs at the higher levels of 12 Grimmauld place.

"This house belonged to Sirius," Harry said simply, and with one more glance, Hermione nodded.

"Be careful with the Nargles," Luna warned. She had her hands clasped in front of her, and Neville and Hermione exchanged looks. "They're sneaky creatures, but powerful." Hermione smiled at Luna.

"Thanks, Luna, we'll remember that," Hermione promised, and walked over to stand beside Harry. The last 2/3 of the Golden Trio exchanged looks, before ascending the stairs and into the attic. Neville sighed, but followed with Luna by his side, to the surprise of Hermione.

"Someone has to protect against the Nargles," Luna said, when asked why she was coming along. The four young adults walked into the room, and wandered around, looking at all the old objects hidden there.

"Be careful, try not to touch things," Harry warned. "They're dark." But even he didn't really listen to that warning, letting his fingers brush up against many objects, careful not to damage them.

He scoffed. Who was he kidding? He didn't want any of this junk. No dark wizards were living here anymore, so there was no need to keep their stupid dark objects. Picking up a vase in anger, he smashed it to the ground.

"Harry!" Hermione shrieked. The others froze, and Hermione turned to look at him. Harry grinned.

"It's actually quite cathartic," Harry laughed, picking something else up and smashing it against the wall.

The others weren't moving but they were no longer tense, and Harry chuckled when he saw a trace of a smile on Hermione's face. She reached over, picking up an ugly glass and threw it across the room, where it hit the wall with a satisfying crash. Neville laughed, chucking an object onto the ground as well.

Pretty soon, they were demolishing everything. Harry was right, it was cathartic, and he laughed hysterically, deciding to laugh amidst the destruction or else he thought he might cry.

So he laughed, even though he knew that probably none of this was healthy, and he should really get some help, but the wizarding world didn't want to imagine that their savior was a little messed up from everything he went through. So Harry was fine with getting his anger, frustration, grief and guilt out in other ways.

Besides, no one was getting hurt.

He smashed an urn, which spilled a bunch of silver powder, just as Hermione blew apart a jar full of some black liquid using confringo, and the flaming liquid mixed with the powder.

Before anyone could react, a thick black fog dispersed across the room at an alarming rate, and no one was able to do anything. He tried to call out, but the thick smoke choked him.

Gagging, he suddenly felt a pull in his navel, like a portkey. He tried to grab onto something, but he found he was unable to move, frozen in pain. He held back screams from the pain, starting in his scar, the one that hadn't hurt since the fall of Voldemort, but now was suddenly shooting pain through his head and his whole body.

Before long, everything went black.