A/N: This was just an idea that came into my head while I was thinking about Deathly Hallows. How awful would it feel to know that all those people died for you? This is set post-DH. Thanks for reading, this is my first HP fic.

A boy named Harry Potter woke up a week after he saved the world with a heavy heart. Today was the day when they would be having the funeral for all those who died during the Battle of Hogwarts. In Harry's mind they were all people who had died for him. Ron was missing from the dormitory but Harry suspected he had gone with his family to grieve for Fred. Harry had been unable to meet the eyes of any of the Weasleys all week, he had been so afraid that they would blame him for Fred's death. Today Harry would have to face the families of all of the dead, feel those eyes watching him as he said meaningless words over lifeless bodies of people who had once been loved. He slowly dressed in his best set of dress robes, knowing that no one would care even if he showed up in Muggle clothing.

The mass funeral was to take place on one of the many grassy patches in the Hogwarts grounds, in fact, the very same one where Albus Dumbledore's funeral had taken place. The setting was eerily similar, with hundreds of gilded chairs placed in rows in the grass. The same tufty-haired man who had presided over Dumbledore's funeral and who had married Bill and Fleur was there as well. Harry took his seat which was regrettably in the front row. He made no contact with anyone, there was no one he wanted to talk to though they all wanted to talk with him. Music swelled around them, seemingly from nowhere and all the people milling about took their seats. The tufty-haired man took the stand and began a long-winded sermon about how much everyone had sacrificed and how the dead had not died in vain. Many people were weeping but despite the crushing sadness inside Harry he couldn't cry. He felt dead inside.

All too soon the time came for him to say his piece. Everyone expected it of the Boy Who Lived, or as he was now known, the Savior. Harry felt all the thousands of eyes upon him as he made his way up to the stand. There was a lump in his throat and his heartbeats were coming wildly fast. He swallowed past the lump and gathered up every ounce of feeling he could muster.

"These people's hearts all used to beat for me. But now my heart beats for them, every second of every day. Thank you for your families."

He climbed down in complete silence. Then one person began to clap, and another and another. The entire audience erupted into applause for his speech. The ceremony ended and those whose families wished them to be laid to rest at Hogwarts were buried in the ready graves. The holes filled and headstones read each person's name, birth date and the date of death. Hogwarts now had a graveyard.

After everything was over, Harry wandered the grounds, waving away reporters and well-wishers alike. He found a shady spot underneath a tree and stared into the seemingly endless depths of the Great Lake. Someone sat down beside him but Harry didn't turn and he hoped that by ignoring them they would go away, until he caught a whiff of flowery perfume that he knew from only one person.

"Harry, no one blames you," Ginny said gently, placing a hand on his shoulder. Their eyes met for one endless moment.

"I know," said Harry, "But I do." With those final words he walked away.

In the end Harry decided to return to Number 12 Grimmauld Place. Kreacher, who had survived the Battle of Hogwarts, came with him. After speaking with Ginny, Harry hadn't said another word to anyone. He had decided that day to keep up a vigil of silence for everyone who he had indirectly killed. Harry slept in the extra bedroom where he had once stayed with Ron with the portrait of Phineas Nigellus on the wall. Sometimes Phineas would appear and attempt to taunt Harry with snide remarks but none of them even came close to encouraging Harry to speak. Kreacher tried his best to make his master comfortable and happy but Harry preferred to spend his time looking through the things in Sirius's old bedroom. After a long time of trying Harry invented a counterspell to the permanent sticking charm that held so many things to the walls at Grimmauld Place and with it he removed the portrait of Mrs. Black, the family tree and the picture of Sirius, James, Remus and Peter Pettigrew. The picture, Harry kept in his bedroom and he looked at it sometimes, filled with longing to fall right into the picture with them.

Over Christmas break Ron and Hermione came to visit with the news that they had decided to finish their seventh year of school the next year. They had tried in vain to get Harry to talk but Harry simply refused. Eventually they only tried to communicate with Harry when they were asking him questions. They left after the New Year and Harry was left alone again to brood in Sirius's room. No one visited over Easter, which was quite fine with Harry. As the anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts approached, Minister of Magic Kingsley Shacklebolt declared it Freedom Day, a new wizarding holiday. Both Ron and Hermione wrote to Harry, imploring him to come to the festivities at Hogwarts. Their arguments varied from "we want you to be there" to "it's your duty". Harry was undecided.

The day before Freedom Day Hagrid wrote to Harry.

Dear Harry,

I'm hopin' ter see yeh on Freedom Day at Hogwarts. Innit mad to think tha' it's already bin a year? I can't help thinkin' how lucky I am tha' it was me who gave yeh yer letter to Hogwarts. Think o' how we'd be if I hadn't.

Hagrid

The next morning Harry Apparated to Hogsmeade and made his way to Hogwarts. Mobs of reporters plied him with questions, including Rita Skeeter who was supposedly trying to write a biography of Harry's life. Much to his satisfaction though Harry found out that no one who knew him would tell Rita anything about Harry. Everyone tried to talk to Harry but he didn't talk to anyone, not even Ginny when he saw her. Already regretting his decision to show up, Harry snuck up to the Astronomy Tower for some peace and quiet. Up there, who should he find but Luna Lovegood.

"Oh, hello Harry!" she said brightly. Then she studied his face more carefully with her slightly protuberant eyes.

"What's wrong? Have the dribblefligs gotten you? They're these nasty little invisible insects that buzz around you and make you dreadfully melancholy."

Harry looked at her earnest face and made a split decision.

"Yes, Luna." His voice sounded cracked and hoarse but it was good to use it again. "I've had a terrible case of the dribblefligs, but I think I'm better now. Let's go see everyone else, shall we?"