Harry had just had one of those nights where he felt as though he had been asleep for ages and ages. His head felt heavy, he was sweating from the summer heat, and all he wanted to do was disappear into blackness. Even so, thoughts in his mind had yet to disappear. Confusion and gloom was still clouding around him. He rolled over onto his back with a frustrated groan. For the past few months he had been restless, unable to figure out what to do with his life. When he thought about how he had no certain plan, he would start panicking. It became so much worse at night, when he had nothing that helped him keep his mind off of his aimlessness. He was just so tired all the time. Especially when he woke up.

He sat up with a yawn. It must already be past nine. He was used to sleeping in. What else was he supposed to do with his mornings? Answer more interview questions and go to more court dates? He had had enough of that for a lifetime.

He blinked twice and looked around, first at the open windows that let in a warm breeze and then at the door that was wide open. This wasn't his room. "Huh," he mumbled, scratching his stubbly chin in puzzlement. He had been so sure that he had fallen asleep in his own room. He slipped out of bed unsteadily and grabbed his glasses off the bedside table so he could take a closer look around. This definitely wasn't his bedroom. He walked to the window and stared out. He wasn't at 12 Grimmauld Place at all. He could actually see green grass instead of dusty buildings. He was up a few floors and the flat seemed to be right next to a park.

Then he realized that he was still dreaming.

He hesitated for a moment before moving towards the door. Wouldn't hurt to look around. This didn't seem like a bad dream. Perhaps one of the more boring ones he had had in a while, but that wasn't bad. He found himself in a short, white corridor. Opening the door directly in front of the bedroom, he was in a tiny bathroom. Two toothbrushes, two towel sets, various pomades and salves arranged on a small shelf… The works. He inspected himself in the mirror. Still looked the same.

He walked out of there and down the corridor. On either side of the hall were photographs in mismatch frames. He slowed when he saw familiar faces – his parents dancing at Godric's Hollow, Ron and Hermione in the Gryffindor common room, Luna in front of the Whomping Willow, Neville after getting his first bunch of letters from admirers, him and Ginny sitting by the lake, and many others. So this was his place. He paused to smile at a particularly funny picture that he had forgotten about, where he and the Weasley children had gathered in front of the Burrow for a winter photo taken by Arthur on his 'new-fangled' Muggle camera. It was blurry and Arthur's finger had snuck in at the bottom left corner, but it had been a great time. He made a mental note to himself to dig up that photograph when he woke up.

Then things got a bit strange.

There were photographs he had never seen before adorning the other side. He leaned in to peer at them. George waving in front of a new Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes, Teddy grinning toothily up at the camera, him riding a Firebolt wearing a Quidditch uniform that wasn't Gryffindor red and gold, Ron and Seamus pretending to pelt rocks at the Whomping Willow, a brand new Hogwarts that had been rebuilt after the war, Luna pointing at the lake excitedly, Ron and Hermione's wedding… These things didn't happen. Or, rather, it hadn't happened yet.

Teddy was grown up in the next picture. He was dressed in black, waterproof coveralls and standing in the middle of a lake. He was holding a flopping fish in one hand that managed to get out of his little grasp with ease just seconds later. Then there was another photo where Harry was showing off a big trophy and grinning wide. In the next one, Teddy and some little Weasleys were covered in mud and holding out handfuls of worms proudly. Then there was an enormous birthday party with all the Weasleys standing in front of the Burrow.

And there was the newest photograph.

It was blurry at first, but it panned in and focused on Harry's bedraggled face. His hair was abysmal as it lay in disarray across his pillow. He smiled at the camera that he seemed to be holding himself. Then the picture moved slightly to the left.

Draco fluttered his eyes open, frowning as soon as he saw the camera. He tried to roll over and hide under the sheets, but he was pulled around. The camera moved about for a bit before settling on a shot of the two of them lying side-by-side in bed, heads pressed together so they could get in on one frame, Draco raising a hand to hold the camera steadier. Harry turned his head to the side to nuzzle him, making him smile.

Harry crossed his arms against his chest and examined the picture carefully.

He had run into Malfoy a few weeks ago, at Wizengamot. All he had felt at that moment had been apathy. In fact, he had thought that he would never see a Malfoy in his life ever again, not if he could help it. That family was doomed. So why was he dreaming of this?

He glanced to the right when he heard water running. He stood where he was, waiting and listening. He had to know what changed.

A few moments later, Draco walked out the bathroom, raking a hand through his mussed hair and yawning. Dressed in loose grey pajamas, he looked so young. "Hey," he sighed, trailing his fingers across Harry's back as he passed by. "Tea or coffee?"

Harry opened his eyes and stared up at his familiar white canopy.

"You want to what?" Ron exclaimed in horror while Hermione echoed that question, but her sentiments were vastly different and one of jubilation.

"I haven't gotten my NEWTs yet," Harry tried to reason with his best friend. "You should come with us. It'll be like old times. One last hurrah before we officially enter the real world."

"But school?" Ron whined. "I don't want to go back. I already did so much. Why do I have to do more? Why won't people just give me money for saving their children?"

"We'll probably get a free pass through school in any case," Harry said with a sly grin. "And we've still got to play some Quidditch, right? I haven't played in ages."

Hermione watched her friends bicker from her perch on the edge of the coffee table. She was incredibly excited to see Harry this way. For the past few months, she had been genuinely worried about his lack of focus and vague interactions. But now, with all this talk about continuing with his education, he seemed a lot more present. Whatever the reason was for the change, she was all for it.

"Ron, you're coming with us and that's final," Harry insisted. "Now… who else do you think we could round up?"

Once the whole crew, consisting of Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Luna and Neville, were all settled in the Hogwarts Express, their topics of conversation turned to exciting thoughts on how the castle might have changed and what sorts of new things would be taught. It was NEWT year for most of them. Hermione was most looking forward to both History and Muggle Studies while Harry and Ron couldn't wait to see who their new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor was going to be. Neville piped in to tell that it was just called Defense Magic now, to which Ron and Harry vocally protested. Luna told them all about the things her father had planned for the coming year in terms of articles for the magazine and its expansion. She urged Harry to give yet another interview. He glanced at Ginny pleadingly to see if she would help him get out of that noose. She smiled smugly instead and shook her head at him. When the food arrived, he treated them all to sweets and pastries.

"Oh," Luna remarked absently after swallowing her bite of pumpkin pasty. "What do you think about the Sorting Ceremony now?"

Her friends looked at each other in confusion, then back at her, tilting their heads to the side. "What about it?" they asked.

"I feel a bit sad when I think about baby Slytherins."

"Ah, yes." Hermione understood. She sat back and sighed thoughtfully. "Well, it's not as if they have no good role models in that house. But I see your point, Luna. Sorting makes things a bit hairy, don't you think?"

"Then… they'll get rid of houses?" Neville hesitated.

Everyone sat silently for a long while. Could that be done? The tradition had gone on for so many years that it was practically set in stone. In fact, it was most likely set in stone somewhere in the Headmistress' office. But, in lieu of recent events, would things change? It didn't after the first war, but maybe it would now. That would be strange, to not have houses.

"But what about Quidditch?" Ron exclaimed in horror. "We've got to have houses for Quidditch!"

"If we don't have houses, then there can be more than four Quidditch teams," Ginny reasoned.

Harry's brows went up. Now there was a thought. "And we could get all kinds of players," he murmured slowly.

Ron was sitting up straight by then, realizing that his friends were being led astray. "But the House Cup!" he blurted out in desperation. "Points! Dorms! Common rooms! Come on, people! Focus here!"

"Calm down, Ron," Ginny drawled. "We're just talking."

Four hours later…

"You've got to be kidding me…" Ron breathed as he took in the transformed Great Hall.

Seven tables were spread across the floor, Hogwarts banners swaying in a slight breeze above them, and absolutely no indication of red, blue, green, or yellow anywhere. Looking down at his uniform, he gulped when he saw that his Gryffindor crest had been erased.

"Oops." Luna shrugged. "Spoke too soon."

Hermione laughed hysterically behind her hand. The Great Hall looked much the same in all other sense, with its grand windows, soaring candles and starry sky. The staff table sat across the length at the opposite end and it was already filled with teachers, many of them new faces. And above each of the tables floated a number from one to seven made from a ribbon of white silk, indicating the year that was to be seated there. Students tentatively made their way to their respective tables. Luna tugged Ginny along with her as they made their way to table six. Ginny looked back at Harry in distress and all he could do was raise a weak hand to wave.

"Um… So... Shall we?" Neville suggested as he led the way.

The Seventh Year table was on the far left and students who sat there clumped together in their respective houses, looking around and marveling at the changes. At the centre of the staff table sat Headmistress McGonagall who appeared a bit too pleased with herself.

"This is a bit unexpected," Seamus commented as he took a seat opposite Neville.