The war was finally over. Harry Potter had defeated the most infamous dark wizard of all time. Of course the end of the war had many casualties including all of the Weasly family except Ron, Charlie, and the twins Fred and George. Hermione was gone, her skill of over-thinking had been her downfall in the end. Dumbledor was found to be just as bad and Voldemort himself, planning on killing Harry and taking over the ministry as soon as the war ended. Everything seemed to have settled down only one year after the day of victory.
Everything except, of course, Harry's grief and guilt. He felt as if everyone who had died, died because he couldn't stop Voldemort earlier in the war. No matter how many times his few remaining friends told him otherwise, he refused to believe them. All he saw when he looked in the mirror everyday was a murderer by association. He holed himself up in Grimauld Place and refused to step foot outside, even to buy necessary supplies. All of this soon had to change, however.
The remainders of last year's seventh year students were to return to Hogwarts in two days. Harry was not pleased about this news, but felt he needed to be there to support what few friends he had left. Packing up his school trunk he sighed heavily and moved toward the fireplace, making his way to the Weasley's house.
Harry stumbled as he stepped out of the floo and wiped the dust off of his jeans and black t-shirt.
"Hiya Harry!" Fred exclaimed, taking Harry's shrunken luggage and pulling Harry into a bone crushing hug.
"Hullo Fred. How is everybody?" Harry asked the tall red head sullenly.
"Well Ronnikins is still sulking in his room but I suppose he'll be better now that you are here. Charlie's off at the ministry trying to get them to allow him to return to Romania, but they are giving him a hard time now that he is the head of 'the most important Light family.' Loada crock, if you ask me. And my dear twin is off putting the last touches on a few new products we have created."
"I hope Charlie is allowed to return. I know how much he missed his dragons." Harry laughed. "I'm gonna head up and talk to Ron. I'll see you around dinner time." Harry made his way up to the youngest Weasly's bedroom. He knocked on the door before slowly pushing it open.
The sight before him made him want to cry. Ron was curled in on himself, laying on the bed wrapped in layers of blankets. By the smell of things, Ron didn't get out of bed much, not even to shower.
"Hey Ron." Harry said quietly, afraid to startle the mourning red head.
"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE YOU SON OF A BITCH?!" Ron screamed, jumping out of bed and running toward Harry.
"Ron what's wrong? I always come over just before school starts, you know that." Harry said in a soothing voice.
Grabbing the front of Harry's t-shirt, Ron yelled, "YEAH WELL SO DID HERMIONE BUT YOU COULDN'T KILL THAT SCUM SO NOW SHE'S DEAD. I DON'T WANT YOU HERE! GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE AND OUT OF MY LIFE YOU ASS HOLE!" Ron pushed Harry backwards out of the room and slammed the door in his face.
All Harry could do was collapse against the wall.