Authors Note: Hi all, this is my first attempt at writing any fan fiction so please be nice! This is my thoughts of what might have happened after the battle and how Harry may have reacted. I know this has been done many many times before but I wanted to give writing a go and this seemed a good place to start. Any resemblance it bears to other works that have been written before it is unintentional but I acknowledge that having read so many other fan fictions before I may have unconsciously been influenced by them. I hope this is not the case and I hope you enjoy it.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all its characters and the places within its world belong to J.K. Rowling. I am not her, I am not profiting from this it is just for fun.

Harry left Dumbledore's office, in a daze, Ron and Hermione a step behind him.

"Where now, mate?" Ron asked.

Harry didn't respond, instead continuing to quietly pick his way through the rubble of the seventh floor corridor. He couldn't take in the destruction around him. Hogwarts, his home, was destroyed. Statues were shattered, the stone of the ancient walls scattered across the floor; blood and scorch marks from curses and hexes covered the stones that remained standing.

"It's all my fault," Harry muttered to himself.

"What!?" Hermione half shrieked, her voice echoing in the silent corridors. Harry jumped; he'd forgotten the other two were there.

"Harry mate" Ron tentatively whispered "It's not your fault."

Harry stopped short and swung round to face the other two.

"It is!" he shouted as tears filled his emerald eyes. "Remus, Tonks, F-f-fred; everyone who died, they died because of me, because I came here, because I brought Voldemort to Hogwarts. If it wasn't for me he wouldn't have been here. All those people would still be alive."

Harry cut off breathing heavily as he gazed at his two best friend tears streaming down his face. Ron and Hermione looked at each other and then at Harry. As the emerald green eyes locked on Ron's blue, so much like Fred's eyes guilt pierced his heart.

"If it wasn't for me you would still have a brother" Harry whispered.

"Harry," Hermione began "It is not your fault; Fred knew what he was fighting for. He knew the risks, knew he could die and he wouldn't have had it any other way. He… they died for something worth dying for, they died to give everyone else a chance at freedom."

Harry sunk to the floor his head in his hands. Ron put his arm around him and hauled him to his feet.

"Come on mate, let's get to Gryffindor tower, you could do with a shower." He said.

Hermione slipped Harry's other arm around her neck as they continued along the corridor. They reached the portrait of the fat lady to find a gaping hole where she usually stood. The trio paused for a moment before continuing into the common room and up the stairs to the seventh year boy's dormitory and lowering a still sobbing Harry onto his bed. Harry rolled onto his side and cried himself to sleep

…...

Harry awoke to the midday sun streaming across his face. He opened his eyes confused. Where was he? He looked around the room taking in the red hangings around him and relaxed, he was home. Harry sat up, he ached all over. Looking down at himself the events of the last twenty-four hours hit him, the battle, the deaths, Fred, Remus, and Tonks. He had cuts and scratches all over him, he was covered in dirt and blood, not all of it his. Vomit rose up in his throat and he ran to the toilet. Flushing the chain he rinsed mouth out and turned to the shower. The hot water felt good on his skin, washing away the horrors of battle. Harry felt more alive than he had in days as he stepped out of the shower and cast a drying charm over himself.

His stomach rumbled and his attention turned to the fact that he hadn't eaten since breakfast at Shell Cottage the day before. Was it only the day before? To Harry it felt like a lifetime ago. He headed out of the bathroom intending to head to the Great Hall and find his friends before stopping short. Ron and Hermione were asleep entwined on Ron's bed. Harry laughed aloud; it would take a war ending battle to get those two to admit their feelings for each other. It had been clear to him for years that the two of them were in love; meant to be. That they felt about each other the way he felt about Ginny. Ginny… her blazing look filled his mind and his priorities changed. He had to find her.

….

Ginny was sat in the Great Hall, wrapped in her mother's arms the way she had been since the end. They clung to each other in their grief, intermittently sobbing onto the other's shoulder. Ginny looked up and contemplated her surroundings. Her eyes were red raw from crying; crying over Fred, over Remus… Tonks… Colin. Grief filled her heart over their deaths, yet that wasn't all she felt. She felt joy and relief. Relief that the war was over, that they were safe and that Harry, her Harry was alive. Despair had filled her heart when she saw Hagrid carrying his broken body; she had never felt such pain, even when she saw the body of Fred, her brother. With Harry it was as though she was dead too. She had wanted to die; she couldn't contemplate living without him. She had thrown herself into that duel with Bellatrix uncaring about her life, it meant little to her at that moment, she almost wished that curse had hit her, but then he was alive again and fighting Voldemort. She feared he would be taken from her again and her heart was in her throat as their spells met before it was all over. Now as she gazed around her, she just hoped that he would come and find her. That he still loved her as she loved him. As Harry entered the Great Hall his searching emerald eyes locked onto her bright brown ones and the hall around them fell into silence.