I finished the last Harry Potter book, and I knew what I must do. Having spent years reading fanfiction, yet never bothering to create an account to write and review, I instantly recognized that I had to write more. I had to fill in that gap – The one between the final chapter and the epilogue. Now, personally, I don't like Author's Notes – they detract from the story you have come here to read. As such, I will simply have this one very long one in the beginning. As soon as I finished the book, I went onto on the ridiculous delusion that I would find a fully written story that detailed what happened in those nineteen years, one that was exactly in line with the one I conceived. It was then that the obvious and ridiculously sane truth sunk into me – If I wanted this story told, I must do it myself. And here I am.

Now I must set several things straight. I like reading something knowing that the author knows full well where it is going and all the twists and turns it will take. J.K. Rowling is one such author, and I would like to inform you that everything is planned out in entirety, locked up safely in my head. Now, here comes the most important part of this "note": I despise typos and errors. If you see something wrong in my story please please please, I implore you, let me know immediately. As is standard, please review.

Now, with all of that out of the way, I present to you the story, which picks up with a line that would immediately follow that of the last chapter. Enjoy

-Perfalco

Disclaimer: I do not own any of this. Big surprise.

Harry placed the wand back in his pocket – he would return it to Godric's Hollow later. He smiled at the portrait of Dumbledore, and turned to leave, when Hermione said something.

"Wait, Harry." Harry turned to her curiously.

"What is it?"

"Well…" she began hesitantly, "I was thinking that, well, this is probably the last time we'll ever be in this room…and, well…."

Her voice trailed off, and while the feeling her words evoked may have been impossible to put into words, Harry and Ron knew exactly what she meant. But before any of them had a chance to say anything, a voice came from a shockingly unexpected source.

"Oh, I don't know about that," chipped in Dumbledore's portrait, wearing an all-too-familiar smile. "Do you really think you'll give up your mischievous ways so easily?"

"Professor," started Hermione, "What exactly do you mean"

"I mean simply that your mischievous adventures during your seventh year will undoubtedly bring you four back to this office under the new headmaster."

The three people who stood before Dumbledore's portrait, seemingly in a state of shock. These people, who could no longer be described as two boys and a girl, but two men and a woman, had seemingly lost their voices.

"But, but sir!" began the voice of Ron Weasley, "surely we don't need another year at Hogwarts. Voldermort is dead!"

"So?" questioned the portrait "Do you not have plans for the rest of your life? Have you –"Dumbledore was now looking at Harry "– lost your resolve to become an Auror?" Harry had, of course, never dreamed of any job other than that. "You will need to have taken N.E.W.T.S. in order to apply for the job."

"Surely, the Ministry would be perfectly willing to make me an Auror without having taken those exams," Harry responded.

"Oh yes, I am sure that is very true." Harry stood there puzzled as to the meaning of his words, but something nagging at him knew the answer – he was sure of it. And then the portrait of the ever-wise Dumbledore put it into words perfectly. "But, would you accept the Ministry's offer over another year at Hogwarts?"

Ron and Hermione turned toward Harry, unsure of what his answer would be. Harry himself looked almost confused. "I…" he abruptly began. Before he could piece together the thoughts floating around his head, Dumbledore began to speak again.

"Do not worry Harry; there is no need to make a decision now. And I get the feeling you will have quite a bit of free time to think about it"

And it seemed he could not have been more right. Despite the fact that Voldermort was truly dead this time, no joyous celebrations erupted from any part of the world. It felt almost as if people were holding it off, getting the work that was so necessary done before they could live their individual lives. And for all of those inside Hogwarts castle, that could not have been truer. The castle had taken serious damage during the battle, and was only a shadow of its former self. The participants of the battle did not see ruins, but rather an opportunity. All those, who had not so long ago gathered in the Great Hall, set about the task of rebuilding Hogwarts castle. To Harry, it was almost as if he was digging Dobby's grave again. All the work was done without magic. No one had said that magic couldn't be used, but everyone seemed to innately understand that they could not. And so the days after Voldermort's death dragged on. Ever since Harry had stepped out of that office, hardly anyone had spoken at all, as they were too concentrated on the task at hand. Hearing of Voldermort's death, Witches and Wizards from around the world trickled into Hogwarts, instantly understanding what was going on and, without a single spoken word, aided in returning Hogwarts to its former glory. Harry himself was mildly surprised at the workings he himself was participating in. He knew he had many important things to say to many important people, and yet he felt as though he needed to put it off until this work was done.

Extensive as the damage was, they managed to finish on the seventh day, restoring the splintered front gate, and returning the last of the statues to their proper locations and forms. The day after, the Daily Prophet was filled with jubilant headlines, and the celebration that the world had put off suddenly erupted. Harry had been doing a lot of thinking, and knew very well who he urgently needed to speak with.