***I do not own anything relating to Harry Potter. The rights are reserved to the original author, JK Rowling. I'm just putting my own twist to how I imagine it went down after the 7th book. It's my first go at writing a fanfic. I still need a beta... Let me know if any interested parties. Thank you.***


There was always a certain calmness that came with the setting of the sun. Harry Potter had lived a long happy life despite of how it began. Not many would have guessed that his life would have eventually led to this. It was said that in the first twenty years of his life he had experienced a dozen's lifetimes' pain and as much courage. Yes his first years had been fast paced, adventure ridden and ultimately lethal in their nature, but he lived. He'd always live; he was after all, the boy-who-lived.

Now at the cusp of the end Harry find himself reunited with the never wavering Golden Trio. The foundation of his family despite no actual blood ties, had always been there. They were there before he was victorious but after wards they were still there, unyielding and loyal. The three of them sat at the Potter's country home, out in a porch, enjoying the sunset on a wooden swing. They'd talked a great about many things. They, besides Harry himself, knew most of what transpired those trouble years before the greatest champion for evil was defeated.

When life gave him time, when he wasn't pressed by an unyielding need to meet his own doom, when the weight of the wizarding world was no longer on his shoulders, when life afforded him time to finally answer all the questions, he sought answers. When the world slowed enough for him to realize gaps and want to fill them. Information and curiosity, a need to close some ties, to end old feuds, to rest old grudges, to fix broken bridges, to understand. More than anyone, he'd know what it was to walk and realize one's ephemerality, to walk into death's hands. Because of this, he, perhaps more than anyone else, knew that life could be short, and could end without warning. He'd put these thoughts off but never completely forgot.

For many years he grew the courage and throughout the years collected these conversations. Today would be the day he revealed it all. There had been many books and articles and history book chapters that claimed to know and give exclusive details on those historical events, but truly it, was only Harry who knew and who was at this moment ready to divulge them. Why? Why now after so many years did he feel like divulging it? Why was it necessary to do so at all? They mostly knew what happened those days. The reason being, that he was ready to let it all go. He had a hard time after the war dealing with the effects and having so many close to him die. It wasn't the end of the pain, Voldemort's downfall. The aftereffects, the recuperation and eventual healing took so much time. After a life of extraordinary events, he needed his best friends to know. Having told no one else of these things made him question if they ever really happened. It was selfish, but he was divulging to ease another burden off his chest.