Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or anything Harry Potter refrences in this story.

Nothing was close to perfect anymore. No, no, better yet, nothing was perfect anymore. Not that it ever was in the first place. Nothing was perfect. But sometimes, back in the day, things seemed perfect. The times he still had his friends.

19 year old Harry Potter, better known as 'The Chosen One' or 'The Boy who Lived.' had given up on his search for the Horcurxes. All thanks to a former best friend of his. Ron Weasley. Ron had practicularly told him that he would never find them and if he continued wroking out trying to find them he might as well just kill himself now. Ron was the one whol told him he couldn't do it. Ron was the one who turned his back on Harry when he came back asking for his help. Ron was the one who basically told him to just kill himself now.

Flashback

"Look Ron, I need you and Hermione's help, I know I blew you off at the end of seventh year, saying I could do it by myself, but I can't." Harry pleaded looking at his fiery redheaded friend that was sitting across form him at the table.

"Oh really, took you long enough to come up with a conclusion, what has it been now... uh... two years since then. Finally given up have." Ron remarked curling his fingers around the bottle of Butterbeer that set on the table in front of him. Lifting it off the table, still practicularly glaring at Harry, he placed it to his thin lips and took a drink.

"C'mon mate, don't be an ass, look I'm sorry I blew you guys off, but that was two years ago, I'm sure Hermione has gotten over it." Harry snapped back throwing an arm halfway in the air then let it slam down on the table with a loud thump. His bottle of Butterbeer shook and the liquid inside toppled a little bit over the brim.

"Come on what. Yeah sure, Hermione's over it, but I sure ain't." Ron retorted setting his bottle back on the tabel and wiping his wet lips on the back of his hand.

"Ron, you... you bloody stubborn idiot, how long can you hold a grudge. Two years, it's been two year, waht have you and Hermione been doing ion the past two years?" Harry asked him his voice rising and his temper to go with it.

"What have I been doing? What have you been doing? You come back and you've accomplished what? Nothing. Nothing at all, not even one Horcrux destroyed. Not even one encounter with Voldemort. What the hell have you been doing?" Ron yelled forgetting that they were in the Three Broomsticks. The only good thing was that it around 12 midnight so it empty a few people scattered at the bar.

"Hey, shut up, you have no idea what happened when I was out alone. You have no idea, so just shut up, stop yelling about things you don't even know. And tell me what I've done and not doen when I was out there." Harry shouted angrily stanindg up from the table. Pushing off the table angrily to stand up, he shook it tipping his butterbeer over.

"Well maybe Hermione and I would've known what was going on, if you let us come along or written to us once and awhile. Hermione was scared to death, and still is, she thinks you're out there dead somewhere." Ron stood up himself. Unfortunatley, Ron was much tall then Harry.

Harry forgot Ron was the only that knew he was back. Pushing the thought out of his mind, he sized up to his friend and looked up slightly at him. "You know I can't do that. If you two were with me, then I'd be more worried about protecting you guys and what condition you two are in then worrying about important things like Voldemort and where the Horcruxes could be." Harry stopped. 'Oh, god,' he thought, 'that didn't come out right.'

"More important things?" Ron asked looking at Harry. "Important things, who was the one telling Hermione and me that you left us behind because we where the most important things to you and you couldn't deal losing us?" Ron's brow furrowed and he turned on his heel sharply stalking out of the pub.

End Flashback

In the room of his inherited house from his Godfather Sirius Black, Harry sat distressed and smarting. He thought living in number 12 Grimmuald Place would be fun, have Ron and Hermione over when wished. But now, it wasn't so awesoem to him. Well, maybe due to the fact that he was the only one out of his frineds that had their own house, and because he had ben speaking to his friends.

Laying on the comfortable matress that was set in a large empty room. The large windows let no light into the room, they were shut tight with blinds covering them and curtains pulled in front. The room was dark and empty. Empty. He hated it that way.

Hary wanted to see and talk to Hermione and Ron, but he couldn't well.. not now. Number one, he couldn't just send them a letter or arrive at their house and expect for them to forgive him. Numer two, he couldn't, he wouldn't know what to do if he saw them. What was he suppose to do, just get down on his knees and beg them for forgiveness. And number three, he was pretty sure, he'd make an idiot of himself if he asked them.

'What the hell am I suppose to do?' Harry thought to himself standing up from his bed and walking over to the empty fireplace in the room. Feeling a cold draft in the room, he pulled out his wand. Pointing it at the frieplace, he muttered a spell, and the fireplace was lit up by dancing flames from the fire.

Regret. That's what he was feeling full of. Regret. He regreted everything he said at the end of their seventh year. Nothing would be this way if he just let them go.