Harry awoke, breathing hard, with his hands covering his ears. This did nothing to help block out the screams and sounds of battle that had been plaguing his dreams recently. The door creaked, and it was all he could do to not immediately grab his wand and start sending curses flying. He felt a stab of guilt for all those times they'd made fun of Moody.

"Master Harry?" Kreacher croaked, peeking into the room. "Shall Kreacher fetch your calming potions again?"

That would make the third night this week, and Harry was starting to worry that he was growing dependent. "No, thank you Kreacher. I...I think I'm okay."

The House Elf nodded and shuffled back into the gloom of the hall.

Harry rolled back over and stared out of the window. His breathing slowly returned to normal as his thoughts focused on the next day. He'd be going over to the Weasleys', and….

He sat up again, and looked at the clock. Molly and Arthur had both insisted he come over any time he didn't want to be alone in the house. But it was two in the morning. He felt it coming on - the panic; the huge, body quaking sobs that would keep him up until dawn. He jumped out of bed and hurriedly put his clothes on, taking deep gulps of air to try and calm himself.

"Kreacher," he croaked.

The Elf appeared before him, concern adding extra creases to his wizened face. "Master Harry?"

"I'm… I'm going over to the Weasleys'," Harry panted. He felt light-headed, but in control now. "I'll be back tomorrow afternoon." He sprinted out to the porch and Disapparated, feeling the squeezing sensation and also a rather painful stinging in his leg. When he landed again, he saw a tiny spot of blood on his jeans - he'd Splinched himself.

The lane was dark and quiet as he walked up to the Burrow. The heavy, aching pain in his chest was coming back again, and he trembled as he knocked at the door.

Arthur appeared moments later, wand out. He lowered it, and pulled Harry into a hug just as the eighteen year old started to sob.

"Shhh," Arthur said. "It's alright. It's okay, Harry. Come inside."

Harry woke up to the smell of fried bacon and the sound of pages turning. He opened his eyes and smiled to see Ron sitting on the floor and reading a comic book.

"Morning, mate," Ron said. "Mum says to come down whenever we're ready, but not too soon because she's having a heart to heart with Hermione."

"A good one or a bad one?" Harry asked groggily. He reached for his glasses and sat up in bed, still wrapped in about thirty blankets.

"A good one, I think."

"When...when are you two leaving?" Harry asked.

Hermione had wanted to wait before bringing her parents back. There were still a few Death Eaters at large, but the Ministry was closing in. Plus, she'd wanted to spend some time at Hogwarts, training with McGonagall and Flitwick on repairing memories. She and Ron would be off to Australia soon to try and find Mr. and Mrs. Granger.

"Tomorrow, if…." Ron trailed off and bit his lip.

"I'm fine, Ron," Harry said, knowing that the pair of them wouldn't want to leave after he'd showed up soaking wet and sobbing at two in the morning. "It's okay. You two need to do this."

"But you're not okay, mate," Ron said quietly. "None of us are."

"Right. I just meant, I'm fine with you two going. I'll be... I can work on things here while you're gone. But you better send me a postcard," he added with a little smile.

Ron smiled back and nodded. "Come on down, mate. Mum's making breakfast. She wanted to have a private word with Hermione, and we should probably go rescue her."

"I'm sure Hermione's fine. Is everyone else up? Am I late?"

"Nah. Everyone's been doing their own thing. Come on down."

There was a small, but delicious breakfast waiting for them when they reached the kitchen. Hermione and Molly separated from a hug and sat down to eat with the boys. Hermione looked as though she'd been crying, but she seemed in good spirits.

"Do you know where you're going to look?" Harry asked as they tucked into eggs and tomatoes.

"Melbourne," Hermione said. "That's where I...er...sent them. But if they've gone away, it may take a while. What are your plans while we're gone? Is Kingsley still trying to talk you into the Aurors?"

"Yeah. I don't know about that, but I know I'll have to keep doing interviews and everything."

"You sound thrilled," Ron said, grinning.

"Ecstatic, really," Hermione added.

"I'm overjoyed, and everyone knows it."

"Especially after he walked out on... what was his name?" Ginny asked, entering the room. "Vance Kilkpatrick, from the Prophet."

"In my defense, it had been a long day, and he was really getting on my nerves."

"I was there for that one," Ron said, snagging another helping of potatoes. "Kilkpatrick was a right prat."

"Maybe you should take a trip too, Harry dear," Molly said. "It might do you good to get away for a while."

"Maybe," Harry said slowly. "I... sort of suggested it. I told Kingsley that I wanted to go to Spain for a bit to clear my head. He was supportive, but he thinks everything will be a bit shaky if the savior of the Wizarding World isn't seen doing... er... clean up."

"You've done quite enough, I think," Molly told him gently. "But I think I understand what he means. Still, there's no use in you running yourself into the ground being the Ministry's mascot."

The group steered away from any talk about the Ministry or the War for the rest of breakfast, passing the time by grilling Ginny on her upcoming Quidditch tryouts. When they'd eaten and done the washing up, Ginny took Harry's hand and nodded toward the garden.

"It's nice out today. Walk with me?" she asked.

"Sure."

Out in the garden, insects were buzzing merrily in the flower bushes. It was a warm day, but the cloud cover kept it from getting sticky and disgusting. Ginny and Harry sat down near one of the trees.

"You've been having the nightmares again," Ginny said. It wasn't a inquiry, but Harry answered anyway.

"Yes. They're... not worse, but more frequent."

"Have you talked to someone?"

"I have a standing appointment with a Healer named Krampus."

"Lovely name. But is it helping? Do you like him? Or her..."

"He's great. Really... calm. As for it helping..." He trailed off, shrugging.

"You need something to do - take your mind off things. I'm not talking about the Aurors," she added, seeing him about to speak. "Something else. That's just going to keep the war in your mind forever. More so than it already is."

"I feel like I have to say yes," Harry said, picking at a blade of grass.

"You took care of your end of the bargain by saving the world " Ginny said. "They can handle clean up. You don't have to do anything you don't want to do."

He looked at her then and smiled. "Don't I? I mean, I could wander off into the sunset, I suppose. Take you with me off to Jamaica," he suggested, wiggling his eyebrows. Then he laughed at her emphatic nod. "Okay, maybe next year -"

"Maybe? Potter, you're going to have to do much better than that," Ginny said, crossing her arms.

"Fine - we'll go next June. How does that sound?"

"Fabulous - but you're not being serious about the real issue here."

"I know," he said, scooting closer to her. "I guess I just think if I leave…."

"What?" Ginny asked quietly. "What will happen if you leave? Voldemort won't come back. Bellatrix won't come back. The Death Eaters won't reorganize if you take a week to go get some sun, or catch a Quidditch tournament."

He rested his head on her shoulder. "Are you sure?" he asked, smiling again.

"If they did? They'd have to go through me to get to you. And I wouldn't be friendly with them."

"I'm sure you wouldn't."

The thing about Hogwarts, Harry mused as he walked up the castle's steps, was that it always smelled the same. Even when he'd been smuggled in, in the midst of a war, there was something comfortingly familiar about it.

He'd had tea with Hagrid, in keeping with his promise to Ginny to get out more, and now he wandered through the halls.

"Harry, m'boy!"

"Hello, Professor!" Harry said as Slughorn waddled toward him. He shook the man's hand warmly and nodded to the stack of mail he was carrying. "Fan mail, sir?"

Slughorn chuckled. "I do a few consultations with St. Mungo's every year," he explained. "They have their student Healers write in with things, and I do my best to give advice."

Harry grinned and nodded. Same Slughorn he'd known - always the influencer. "That's kind of you, sir."

"Well, m'boy, now that the war is over, I find myself wanting to do more good in the world. I spent too long hiding from it. Oh dear," he mumbled, looking down at one of the envelopes.

"What's wrong, sir?"

"Young Mister Thornbeck - I don't suppose you knew him. A first year, last year. Poor boy. Even with everything going on at Hogwarts, he still wanted to stay here over the summer."

Harry reeled back in shock. "What?"

"A rather quiet, sad boy. I believe his home life is stressful."

"Has anyone looked into it?" Harry asked.

"Ah, m'boy. We have no authority to do so. But I've talked to McGonagall about him. She's assured me that he's not being hurt."

Harry nodded, but didn't respond. He had a thought. A thought that was simmering, bubbling, brewing into a full fledged idea. "Er...professor?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"Would you be available for tea in two days?"

"Indeed, m'boy!"

"Fantastic! I...er...I have something to do now. I'll owl you, professor. And thank you!" Harry said as he ran back toward the entrance.

"Er… You're very welcome, m'boy. But for what?"

"A way to move on!"