Chapter One
The Beginning of the End
"Harry!" Hermione shrieked. Harry Potter, the boy who lived, the chosen one, and according to the events that had occurred that very day, the conqueror of the Dark Lord, Voldemort, had nearly just gotten himself killed. Again. Exhausted from the Battle of Hogwarts, which had only just ended about an hour ago, Harry, Ron and Hermione were heading down from the headmaster's office to the Great Hall so they could join the rest of Ron's family. About a quarter of the way down, Harry nearly walked off of the edge of one of the changing staircases and fallen fifty-feet below. Ron lunged forward and grabbed the back of Harry's hoodie, yanking him backwards and sending them both sprawling on the bottom of the staircase. "On second thought, Harry," panted Ron. "Maybe we should just go up to the Common Room instead." Harry pulled himself up as the staircase connected itself to a balcony. "Yeah, Ron, I think that's probably a good idea."
When they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, she burst into tears. "Oh, go on in! You three don't need a password, you really are true Gryffindors, no doubt!" She sobbed, dabbing at her eyes with a lace handkerchief. Harry, Ron and Hermione each muttered words of thanks, and clambered through the portrait hole, as they had done so many times before. At their entrance, the many Gryffindors waiting inside began to cheer and applaud, hugging and clapping the trio on the back. Harry was reminded strongly of when his name was pulled out of the Goblet of Fire three and a half years earlier, and he had come to the common room to find a scene similar to the one he was experiencing now.
Everybody was happy for him, but Harry just felt plain lousy. Sure, he had defeated Voldemort. He had saved the world. But he had also cost the lives of so many people, people who didn't deserve to die. Lupin and Tonks, now their son would grow up an orphan and Teddy Lupin would never get to meet his parents… And Colin Creevy. Sure, the kid had always annoyed Harry a little bit, but he was so full of potential, and was one of the bravest people Harry had ever known, sneaking into the battle to fight even though he was underage.
Then there was Fred. Harry had actually witnessed his death, and it was hard to shake the memory of it. The Weasleys had done so much for Harry, yet what did he give them in return? A dead son. Harry remembered the first time he met the Weasleys, on platform nine and three quarters, seven years ago. Fred and George had been the first of the Weasley children to actually acknowledge Harry that day, offering to help carry his luggage onto the Hogwarts Express. He remembered the twins being ecstatic about going to school with the boy who conquered the Dark Lord at the mere age of one. Now the Weasleys are probably wishing they had never even met Harry.
Harry stood in the middle of the common room, glued to the spot as all of these horrible thoughts went through his head. Only Ron and Hermione seemed to notice something was wrong, and Hermione laid a gentle hand on Harry's shoulder. "Come on, Harry. Let's go up to the dormitories." she said. Harry nodded his head stiffly, and followed his two best friends up the stairs, away from the crowds of people, who continued their celebration.
Harry nearly sobbed when he saw his four poster bed, it's curtains drawn open in a welcoming manner. After sleeping in a tent in sleeping bags on hard wooden bunks for almost a year, the soft, comfy mattress on which he collapsed onto was heaven. Which was saying a lot, because Harry had actually been to heaven. At least he thought he had. He wasn't sure what had happened when Voldemort had attempted to kill him in the Forbidden Forest, and he wasn't sure he wanted to find out. It would just add even more confusion to his life.
He got in a sitting position on his bed as Ron and Hermione sat down on Ron's four poster. They sat in silence for while, before Ron said, "So, what do we do now?" At this, Hermione began to cry, burying her face in her hands. Ron immediately put his arm around her, pulling her close and stroking her hair gently. Harry sat forwards on his bed and rested a hand on Hermione's knee. When Hermione had calmed down a bit, she removed her hands from her tear stricken face.
"I-I'm sorry, I just never expect us to make it this far." She said shakily. "Honestly 'Mione," Harry confessed. "neither did I. Just a month ago, whenever I thought about my future, all I could see was V-" He surprised himself with the incapability to say the name. The name that had cost the lives of Lupin, Tonks, Fred, Mad-Eye, Snape, Dumbledore, his parents. "Harry?" Hermione looked concerned. "Are you alright?"
"It's all my fault." Harry choked. "I'm so sorry."
"Sorry, Harry, for what?" Ron questioned, looking confused.
"I'm sorry for everything. I'm sorry for Fred, Ron. Hermione, I'm sorry that your parents have no idea who you are. I'm sorry for dragging you two along on my mission." Ron got up on his feet.
"Harry, stop it, you don't know what you're saying. Fred knew the circumstances of fighting in the battle. He knew it was possible to be… killed." Ron sat back down on his bed, as if he was just coming to terms with his brothers death. "He's right, you know Harry." Said Hermione. "Fred knew. And so did I, I wouldn't have taken away my parents memories if I really didn't take you seriously." They sat in silence for a long moment, before Harry got up and said, "I'm going to go take a walk. See you guys later." They both nodded solemnly, and Harry left the common room, searching for the girl he yearned to see most.