Author's Note: Hello all. So after watching the last movie I have been almost obsessed with this story that I've been trying to write. It is set mostly in the realm of the movies, with some references to the book, basically it's just me mushing it all together. I'm gonna write this in sort of snapshots of times during the year. I believe there will be a big picture kind of plot, but I haven't quite figured it out yet. Well, enjoy!

Harry could still feel the weight of the Elder wand long after he had thrown it into the never ending canyon. He knew Ron and Hermione were still watching him when he turned and walked back into the castle. A pebble passed his feet; he looked back and saw that his friends were following him, holding hands. 'About damn time,' he thought smiling to himself.

They entered the main foyer and stood in the door way of the Great Hall, their eyes searching the crowd not really looking for anything or anyone. Just taking everything in. "What do we do now?" Ron asked looking from
Hermione to Harry.

"I don't know." Harry said. He had never given it much thought, always assuming he wouldn't live past today. He had been living for this day his whole life, and without Voldermort he didn't know what else there was to do. He looked to Hermione for an answer. She just shook her head and shrugged, too drained to speak.

"There you all are!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed from behind them, Ginny not far behind her. "We have been looking everywhere for you three." She stopped once she noticed Hermione and Ron's intertwined fingers, and raised her
eyebrows at her son. Hermione's face turned bright red, pulling her hand away as if she had been burnt. "It's quite alright darling." Mrs. Weasley chuckled pulling Hermione into a motherly hug. "I'm so glad Ron has you." She said tears filling her eyes. She took Hermione's face in her hands and kissed her forehead. "He doesn't know how lucky he is." She whispered. "Make sure you remind him. I love him more than my own life, but he's not that bright."

"Mum!" Ron exclaimed, clearly hearing every word. Mrs. Weasley patted her son's face.

"I'm sorry dear. But it's true. You've been mooning over her for years now." Mrs. Weasley sighed looking past Ron. "Excuse me." She scooted in between Ron and Hermione and made a bee-line for her husband. Ron watched her with a distant look in his eyes, no doubt thinking about Fred.

Hermione reached for Ron's hand again, successfully pulling him out of his trace. "I should probably..." He said gesturing over to his family.

Hermione nodded. "I'll meet you over there." Ron reached over and kissed her on the cheek.

"Thank you." Ron mumbled. He looked as if he wanted to say more, but chose against it and followed his mother's leave.

Harry smirked at Hermione, causing her to blush. "What?" She asked incredulously.

"Oh nothing. Not a thing. It's not like there was a ground breaking change between my two best friends." Harry said sarcastically.

"Oh please." Hermione sighed. "It's not like we weren't going to tell you."

"Sure you were." Harry sighed putting his arm around her shoulders as they walked deeper through the Great Hall. "So what happened?"

"Short version?" Hermione asked, when Harry nodded she continued. "I stabbed the Cup, and then there was a lot of water, and then I kissed him. Well we kind of kissed each other."

"It's about damn time." Harry said echoing his earlier thought.

"Well you know impending doom kind of pushes you to tie up loose ends." Hermione noted nonchalantly.

"Apparently." Harry mumbled looking his gaze somehow finding Ginny.

Hermione followed his eye line. "You should probably go talk to her." Harry contemplated this for just a moment and then nodded and did as he was told. Hermione watched as he walked up to Ginny, shuffling his feet and pushing his hands in his pockets as far as they could go. She smiled softly at his shyness. The man had just killed Voldermort and he blushed talking to a girl he liked.

Hermione felt arms encircle her waist and a head rest on her shoulder. She knew it was Ron immediately, placing her hands on top of his, trying to bury herself in his embrace. "'Ello." He whispered in her ear, causing goose bumps to rise on her arms.

"Hello." Hermione whispered back. "How are your parents?" She asked glancing at the Weasley family, huddled around Fred's blanket covered body. Bill was sitting on a half destroyed bench with his head on Fluer's shoulder, George, sitting on the ground below, with his head on Bill's knee, Fluer rubbing soothing circles on his back, and Molly and Arthur, talking in shushed tones a few feet away.

Hermione felt Ron shrug, pulling out of the embrace, she turned to look him in the eye. "Will you promise me something?" He asked not looking up from his shoes. "Promise that you'll stay with me? Until the funeral that is?"

"Of course I will." Hermione cupped his face in her hands. "I don't have anywhere else to go."

Ron let his breath go as if he was holding it in for her answer. He knew she was lying but he didn't want to change her mind. He needed her now more then he would ever admit to her.

- 3 days later -

It rained the day they buried Fred. The Hogwarts grounds were still covered in rubble. Too much to simply start the castle's recovery.

"We will rebuild," Professor McGonagall had said, "Once the echoes of the battle are not ringing in our ears."

"I wouldn't hold your breath Professor," Ron spat bitterly.

Professor McGonagall reached forward placing a reassuring hand on Ron's shoulder. "In due time Mr. Weasley." Then more quietly as if she were trying to convince herself too, "This too shall pass."

The rest of the day had passed somberly. No one dare making more noise then was necessary. Song birds provided the only soundtrack as twelve people were lowered into the ground. Albus Dombledore's grave not far behind.

Professor McGonagall had said a few words, but they were just white noise falling on Harry's ears. He sat there with his hands in his lap staring straight ahead at the large stone blocks behind today's proceedings. He knew that today and the days prior would weigh on his soul for years to come.

- 1 month, 3 days later –

A fresh blanket of dried leaves had just laid themselves down when Hermione apparated onto the grass path leading to the Burrow. She had traveled all the way to Australia to retrieve her parents. She had gotten all the way to their front door, and realized they were safe here. Voldermort was gone, but there were still death eaters. She needed Ron. She turned on the spot and returned to the Burrow.

She walked on the dead leaves and grass, small and loud crunches and crackles came from under each of her footsteps. Hermione's eyes focused sharply on the door to the kitchen. A ball of light shot out from somewhere in the yard and toward the light fixed above the door. She followed the trail the ball of light left to a red haired figure, waiting. Waiting for her.

Ron didn't speak until she was right in front of him. "You called?" He smirked at her.

Hermione scrunched her face in confusion, than realization dawned on her. The deluminator. She must have called out to him before she apparated. "Did you hear me?" She asked in awe.

Ron just nodded cupping her face in his hands and placing a soft kiss on her lips. Ron guided her through the quiet Burrow. It was late and everyone must have already retired for the night. When they reached the landing before Ron's room Hermione could see the light seeping from under the doorway. Ron opened the door for her, placing his other hand on the small of her back shuffling her in the room.

Harry looked from the window to the doorway. "Hermione?"

"I can't, not yet." Hermione burst out, her breathing coming harder and faster. Ron intertwined his fingers with hers, and she visibly calmed. After a few deep breaths she continued. "Voldermort may be dead, but there are still death eaters." Echoing her thoughts from her parents door step. "I can't bring my parents home until I know it is completely safe."

Harry looked down at his dirty sneakers. The same sneakers that still had blood and dust on them. He nodded slowly. "She's right." He said more to himself. He looked at Ron and Hermione. "What do you suppose we do?"

- 1 months, 1 week, 2 days later -

The new Minister of Magic, Mr. Owen Bogart, sat looking rather uncomfortably in the living room of the Burrow. Harry, Ron and Hermione sat on the couch across from him, almost mirroring their positions from almost a year ago. Mr. Bogart cleared his throat. "Do you know why I am here?"

Hermione had an idea. It hadn't been more than more than three days since Hermione had made her sudden return from Australia. She knew her thoughts must have been those of some of the Order as well. Harry, Ron and her had already been making plans. All three sat there unmoving, staring at the minister.

Mr. Bogart cleared his throat again, "Well, as you very well know, You-Know-Who-"

"Voldermort," The three of them corrected at once.

The minister squirmed in his chair, clearly not used to hearing the Dark Lords name yet. "Yes, as I was saying... Voldermort," He continued practically choking over the name, "had many followers. It is completely plausible that one of them, or many of them, for that matter, may try to continue the Dark Lord's work." This was said as a statement, the minister clearly believed the theory full heartedly.

"With all due respect, Minister, we may be young, but we are certainly not daft." Hermione spat.

Ron whipped his head toward his girlfriend, a playful smirk toying with the corners of his lips, "Hermione," he whistled. "Bloody brilliant."

Hermione's cheeks grew rosy as she bowed her head trying to conceal her pride. "I'm afraid you are correct Ms. Grainger." The minister sighed. For a moment he seemed to relax in his chair, than it was quickly washed away with exhaustion. An exhaustion they recognized immediately, because they felt it too. It was a deflating feeling, when all the fight in you is gone, and you must keep moving forward. Keep fighting, keep carrying on. It is a completely draining, numbing, feeling. "I'm afraid that the Ministry has not been on your side. They have looked you over because of your age, and above all fear." He leaned forward trying to get an important fact through to them. "Mr. Potter, when you had come out of the Wizarding Tournament claiming to have seen … Voldermort," again he choked over the letters, "People who were there when he rose to power the first time, were scared, if what you said was true, many of them, as they have, would die. It is easy for one to hide from the truth and blame the child who had seemingly started the turmoil."

Harry sat back, visibly rolling the ministers words in his mind. He had never blamed any one for hating him. He understood their pain, as well as their fear.

"We need your," Mr. Bogart said his voice now strong with purpose. "We need the Order's help." He added much quieter. "We need to find and capture the remaining death eaters and assess their level of danger."

"What's your plan?" Harry asked.

- 2 months, 2 weeks, 4 days later –

"Happy birthday Harry!" Hermione exclaimed as she shoved a small misshaped cake in his hands.

"Blimey," Harry said rotating the cake cautiously, Harry missed Mrs. Weasley more than ever in that moment, "Thanks Hermione." He finished trying to conceal his trepidation.

"I tried to make it the best I could, but its quiet cramped in that kitchen, and the stove is really too small for a cake." Hermione replied, her cheeks blushing at her cooking skills, Harry just glanced at the small makeshift kitchen. The moving 'headquarters' the minister provided was barely sufficient for one person, let alone three.

They rarely complained about the small quarters. Ron and Hermione barely apart even if there was room, and Harry had adapted quickly, remembering the small cupboard he that used to be his sanctuary.

"Okay, okay, so I'm not that good of a cook." Hermione pushed the hair that had escaped her ponytail behind her ear.

"It really is great Hermione," Harry said trying to reassure her. "Thank you." He said sincerely once he had caught her gaze.

Hermione smiled, standing and heading for her long deep violet cloak, "I'll take first watch." Harry nodded as she slipped her cloak on and slipped out the door.

Harry placed the cake on the table and rubbed his eyes with his palm. He had thought on their latest exhibition to track down Death Eaters that he would feel some sort of accomplishment or purpose. Harry still felt empty. As if he was missing a part of himself and on his more dark days, he knew what it was.

- 8 months, 3 weeks, 1 day later –

It was Christmas before Hermione knew it; she had done her small Christmas shopping while Ron and Harry slept in one morning. They had tracked Thorfinn Rowle to a small village not far from Godric's Hollow. She pulled her hood close to cover her face. She could not be more careful. She walked down the nearly empty alley way, her boot clicking on the cobblestone street. She took an immediate right down the next alley, her long cloak billowing behind her. Her wand slipped down her sleeve and into her waiting hand. She muttered and incantation and a door opened a few feet away from her. She slipped into the opening expertly closing the door soundly behind her. Locking the door for good measure, paranoia running ramped in her thoughts. She leaned her forehead against the old wooden door, taking slow breathes to calm herself.

"Oi!" She heard someone yell behind her. Ron.

She turned slowly, her arms outstretched showing she was unarmed. Ron's hand fell a few inches, and then completely when she dropped her hood. He let out a gust of air he hadn't realized he was holding. "Bloody 'ell, Hermione, I could have hurt you." He scolded her.

Hermione smirked at her boyfriend. "No you wouldn't have." She wrapped her arms around his neck. "You never would have heard the end of it."

"As always you are correct," He mumbled against her lips.

Hermione pulled away after a few moments, Ron reaching up to place her hair back behind her ears, "Is Harry up?" She asked. Ron hummed clearly not listening, Hermione walked around him to set her things down on the make shift dining table. "Where's Harry?" She asked again.

"He's still sleeping. Why? What's happened?" The concern in Ron's voice was alarming to Hermione. Apparently, paranoia had not just plagued her.

Ron was standing very close to Hermione. She smiled gently placing a hand on his chest pushing him to sit in the nearest chair. She followed planting herself on his lap. She once again wrapped her arms around his neck and placed a soft reassuring kiss on his lips. "Relax Ron," She whispered, millimeters away from his mouth. He took a deep breath and let it out shakily, mostly due to her proximity. She had no idea what she did to him. "It's Christmas." She smiled, and he did too.

- 8 months, 4 weeks later –

It seemed too easy to Harry. Again they had defeated Rowle and Dolohov together. The Death Eater's had turned a dark corner in a back alley of the small village that Ron, Harry and Hermione had been staking out for weeks, with nothing. And then out of nowhere, there they were, half heartedly fighting for their freedom. None of the trio had spoken of it, but each knew that there was something wrong with the capture of Rowle and Dolohov. Something was not right.

"Harry?" Ginny's voice broke through his deep thoughts and the background of the Burrow, decorated for the New Year, came back into focus. "Harry, were you listening to me?" She asked placing a hand on his knee as if to keep him with her in this world.

"Hm?" Harry asked still a little dreamy, "I'm sorry love, what were you saying?"

Ginny took her hand back, and looked down at her lap. "It's close to midnight." She looked off toward the old clock on the far kitchen wall. Harry nodded, drifting back into his thoughts.

Hermione watched the exchange from over the top of her book, Ron next to her, Quidditch magazine in his lap and one hand on the leg Hermione had draped on his. "Hermione, he's fine." Ron mumbled not having to ask why her lips were pursed and tension wracked her body.

Hermione looked incredulously at Ron, noticing he was smirking, gave it all she had to relax. "It's just; I'm worried about him is all."

Ron sighed gently squeezing her leg, "I don't know who you'd be if you weren't." Hermione's hand found his as she continued her reading. He was right.

- 11 months, 3 weeks, 5 days later -

The snow had all but melted and tufts of new grass poked its way through the remaining sheets of ice and snow, before they set eyes on the castle again. It would be a year in two days time. The empty feeling that Harry carried around with him like a crutch was a gaping hole in his heart as he walked back onto the grounds of Hogwarts. Ron, Harry, and Hermione, had each received an owl requesting their presence at the castle.

Ron squeezed Hermione's hand as they walked across the once destroyed bridge. His hair had been cut short due to a half circle scar that was slowly forming around the outside of his right eye, the glass had cut off the long hair that nearly covered his eyes. Hermione had begged to cut his hair, and since he refused to let Hermione heal the cut, he let her without complaint. Every time he caught her staring he would just say it was a reminder, always adding, "Chicks dig scars, right?" Alecto Carrow had enchanted a broken wine bottle aiming the jagged part for Ron's temple, thankfully he hadn't succeeded. Hermione had bandaged him up as best she could, but it still looked angry. Ron's short hair and new scar made him seem dangerous.

Late at night, lying in his deceptively strong arms she would trace the scar with the smallest amount of pressure, begging him to let her heal it. "One day." He would always say. "One day, I won't need to look scary." She wanted to tell him that he didn't need to look intimidating to anyone, but she knew she would be lying. Intimidation did serve a purpose, even if she didn't like it.

The presence of Headmistress McGonagall brought Hermione out of her thoughts and into the present.

"I'm so glad you made it." She said hugging them in turn. "I wanted you to see this," her eyes concentrated on Harry, then to the couple to his right, "All of you."

They followed her through the halls, she explained how the rebuild went, how Neville and Luna hadn't left since the battle. They were both to begin teaching the next semester. "They were a tremendous help in getting it ready for the new first years. Many parents are still worried about sending their children here. It's quiet a shame, the amount of letters I've received from concerned parents."

The trio was silent for the whole tour. It wasn't until they had reached the doors of the Great Hall did Harry speak. "You were wrong Professor." He stood stock still in the door way.

"Excuse me, Mr. Potter?" Professor McGonagall clearly confused.

Harry cleared his throat as to be strong for what he was about to say. "I can still hear it." He took a deep breath, "I can still hear his voice. I can hear their screams. I can still hear it."

There was so much pity in Professor McGonagall's eyes. Harry never wanted her to pity him. She stepped closer, and all the pity was gone, replaced by pride. "Oh, Potter," She placed her hands on his shoulder. "I can too. And that is a part of what makes you so incredible." At Harry's confusion, she continued. "Your heart, Mr. Potter."

Author's Note: So? How'd you like it? Please review. I don't mean to sound shallow or harsh, but if no one takes an interest, I just might not finish. ; )