So this story takes place after the war. A few 18 year olds are returning to Hogwarts as Eighth Years. If you're a fan of Ron/Hermione or just Ron in general, I would advise you not the read this. Also, this fanfiction deals with abuse/cutting. So I advise you to just read with caution if that stuff triggers feelings for you. I wouldn't want any of you guys to feel uncomfortable while reading.

Hope you enjoy, and comment and let me know what you think!

*This world will forever belong to J.K. Rowling. I just play around with it.*


Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Dear Ms. Granger,

I hope your summer holiday is going well. I am writing to inform you that you, along with the rest of your year, are invited to return to Hogwarts to finish out your schooling. Your year will be taking the classes you all had missed due to the war and will be addressed as the school's first and only 'Eighth Years'. Now while this invitation is open to any whom may want to come back to complete their final year of Hogwarts it is by no means required.

Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Yours Truly,

Minerva McGonagall

I glance around my room, then back at the letter. I reread it again, and then a third time. Could it be true? Could we really have a chance to go back to Hogwarts?

With the letter in my hand, I leave the comforts of my bed and run down the hallway, towards the stairs. Above me, I hear rapid footsteps and glancing up, I see Harry. His face is fretful, a letter is in his hand. "Did you get one too?" I couldn't contain my excitement, my heart was fluttering. His grin fills his face and he races down the stairs. Like me, he was heading to the kitchen. There we found the Weasleys.

After the war with the Burrow destroyed, the Weasleys, Harry, and myself decided to take up residence in 12 Grimmauld Place. Now although that was months prior and the Burrow was now rebuilt, Harry, Ron, Ginny, George, and I found ourselves more comfortable sleeping here, now that all of us were older. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley came over many mornings however for breakfast.

Now the red heads were all gathered around the table that morning, breakfast already being served. Ron and Ginny held letters in their hands. As Harry and I enter the kitchen, Ginny turns and throws an arm around both my neck and Harry's. "Oh please, oh please tell me you two are going to go back to Hogwarts? I've asked Ron and he's reluctant to want to go back!" The thin redhead pouts as she untangles her arms from around our throats. I give Harry a look, confused as to why Ron wouldn't want to go back.

"Well, you know I'm going to go back! I've got to complete my N.E.W.T.s and plus, where would I be without school?" I smile and take a seat on Ron's left side. He silently picks at his eggs, not even acknowledging me.

"What about you Harry?" Ginny bounced to the opposite side of the table, across from me, her eyes never leaving Harry's face. He follows her over, sitting opposite of Ron. To my left, near the end of the table, George sat with a sad expression on his face. His plate of eggs barely touched. Although he became a permanent resident here at 12 Grimmauld Place, he didn't speak much. His once always smiling lips barely turning up any longer. It was sad and I often sat with him asking him questions about his new products. The only time he was somewhat happy was when he was talking about his shop.

I fill my plate with two slices of toast and jam, and fill myself up a cup of tea. Harry was already chowing down when he states, "I think I want to go back. I'll have to finish my N.E.W.T.s if I want to become an Auror."

"Well I think it's a wonderful idea that Minerva is inviting your-" Mrs. Weasley was cut off by Ron slamming his fists on the dark wooden table. He stood up abruptly, creating the bench to move back and me to nearly fall.

"I'm just so glad you all are so happy about going back there." His voice was raising, his once childish voice now deepened with age and war. His hands were balled into fists and his cheeks were getting red with anger.

This wasn't the first time Ron had had an outburst like this. The entire Weasley family had taken the war and Fred's death horribly. While Arthur and the older boys put their time into rebuilding the Burrow, Molly began cooking and learning new housework spells and enchantments; doing whatever they could to remind themselves life was still going on around them. George immersed himself in his store, creating new and improved toys and tricks. He cried a lot, not in front of people or his family, but alone late at night. Our rooms are next to one another and sometimes I hear him. Now Ron, Ron was angry. He was angry at Voldemort, he was angry at the Death Eaters, he was just angry in general. He hated that he lost his brother.

Molly didn't really know how to control Ron at this point and whenever she tried, he just got angrier. So now she bids a farewell and leaves through the floo with Arthur. It hurt them to see Ron like this. I grab hold of his hand and squeeze. He squeezes back, a little too hard and I try not to flinch. "I know it's going to be hard, Ron. It's going to be hard for all of us..." Before I could continue, he cuts me off. By now, Harry, Ginny, and George sneak out. Knowing that only I would be able to talk Ron through this.

I wish they had stayed. I wish they knew. "Was your brother murdered? NO!" We both stood next to the table, the room was quiet except for the faint hum from outside. Ron was shouting and I knew I needed to quiet him down.

"I-I know. But even then, my parents are still-" I stop as Ron's hands grip my forearms. After a year on the run and only a few months since the end of the war, I was still skinnier than an eighteen-year-old should probably be and Ron's long fingers fit around my entire forearm. He squeezed them tight and shook me hard. Tears welled up in my eyes.

"Your parents are still alive! Sure they don't bloody well know you're alive but you are and So. Are. They. You don't know how this feels Hermione!" I flinch at his words, his fingers still laced around my skin. They burned and ached and tears fell from my eyes.

Like always, Ron seems to notice his anger getting the best of him too late, and after seeing my tears, he lets go. I try not to flinch as he wraps his arms around him and pulls me into his chest. "I'm sorry Hermione. I'm sorry, I love you." I flinch at his words. I love you was like a death trap. I couldn't hear the words without thinking pain would follow. I inhale and exhale slowly, regaining my cool and knowing he just lost control. Again. I wiggle from his grip and we sit down on the bench.

"Ron," my voice is soft, barely above a whisper. This level is good, this level I could control. Anything higher and my voice might crack, my frightened interior might show. "I know what happened at Hogwarts is still engraved in your mind. It's engraved in all of ours. But, we need to move forward." Fred would want us to move forward, I don't add that aloud. "If you don't want to return, that's okay! Like McGonagall said, it isn't mandatory." I'm hoping my soft will sooth Ron like it normally does.

He sighs and takes my hands, gently this time, and I know he's calmer now. "But you and Harry are going." He doesn't ask this because he knows it's a statement. I simply nod. He sighs again and stands up, pacing.

I do not interrupt him during this, I knew he needed time to think about what he wanted to do. Instead, I watch him. He was so tall now, so built, no longer a scrawny orange haired boy. The war had changed him like it changed all of us. His once happy and silly voice was replaced by a stern and annoyed, more often than not, one. His smile, although was real at times, just masked his mean exterior. When he screams at me, grabs my arms, punches me- "I'm going to go." I flinch at his voice, being awakened by my thoughts. Confused for only a moment by what was going on.

"Huh?" I ask, standing up to be closer to his height.

He smiles at me, and my heart calms down. "I'm going to attend my eighth year along with you and Harry." I force a smile. "What made you change your mind?"

He shrugs as he pulls away. "I just want to be closer to you I guess." He smiles and my stomach drops. I felt sick.