He's twenty two now but looks well worn. Wrinkles of pain and suffering etch lightly over the surface - he's too young for this. He's spent years of watching his life fall apart, years trying to save everyone and years above all, trying to find happiness. His name is Harry Potter and happiness doesn't come. Harry Potter has an omen about him, everyone he loves dies. Everyone around him dies - he can't find happiness because it doesn't exist, not in his world. The memories he cherishes are the years he could have died, the years he fought Voldemort and the years that he had Ron and Hermione by his side. That doesn't exist anymore - nor does his happiness.

Things were supposed to get better after the final battle. Voldemort was dead and the Wizarding World bounced back slowly but surely. People died, mass amounts of people died at the hands of the Death Eaters and Voldemort. So many had fallen leaving families behind, the foul taste of loss clinging onto their souls. But the battle didn't end it; the battle just ended him. With the amount Harry had been through he needed a little space to reevaluate his life. He'd spent his life not knowing who he was, then when he'd found out - he'd spent it trying to stay alive, save the world he'd only began to discover. Ginny accepted the fact he needed time knowing he needed to collect himself - see what type of person he actually was now that he didn't have a constant battle to fuel him to move on. Ginny however wasn't ready to wait despite what she thought, she'd been through so much, lost her brother and almost her own life; she was grieving. Cormac McLaggen however had a very sturdy shoulder for her to cry on. He hadn't even heard where they'd met before Ginny was collapsing their final bridges.

Harry had accepted the fact that he'd probably just lost the love of his life - but really, at this point he was used to loss and coping with it's bitter taste. Hermione and Ron were the next to go. These two were the reason he was alive today, they'd helped him through so much, forced him to survive. They were dead now. Three years after the battle when they'd finally stopped bickering so much and settled into the structure of a relationship, things had seemed good. Hermione had completely finished her Hogwarts education and like Harry, Ron was working at the Ministry now. Hermione had joined the ranks and was making quite a name for herself though everyone had heard about her reputation at Hogwarts as the brightest witch of their time. They were happy, hell, even Harry was happy. The pair had a quaint little place now decorated by Hermione of course (And stocked full with books), Ron had finally grown a huge sense of pride and Harry loved seeing that. Ron deserved it. After all of those years of feeling like he was second best, Ron had stepped from the shadows, got the girl, a house, an amazing job that allowed him to buy whatever he pleased and a family that he didn't feel inferior in anymore. Life was wonderful. Ron had the type of life Harry had dreamed of. Funny how time had a way of changing that.

Life being wonderful doesn't stick around though and perhaps that's the problem. Nothing ever sticks, everything changes. After fighting for so many years He just felt weak, tired and lost without a sense of direction and that wasn't about to stop. For the most part the remaining death eaters had either surrendered, went to Azkaban or went underground - the ministry was attempting to track them but they had a load of enchantments that they were constantly trying to break through. Ron thought he'd really been onto something (With Hermione's help of course) but it had lead to a false end, but what else was new? The death eaters had something new, with constant evasion it was impossible to catch the bastards. That's about the time things went wrong, wasn't that always the way though? When you're finally pulled into a false sense of security. Their home had been ambushed and when the officials, including Harry arrived at the scene... Nothing could prepare them for the blood bath that waited. This was Harry's final nightmare.

Hermione's lifeless body was stretched across her bed as if she'd been forced down, her once bright face was twisted in sheer horror, eyes remained open with streaks of dried tears down her face. Ron's body lay in a crumpled heap at the door, judging by the bruising and brutality of the scene he'd been beaten but it was fairly obvious he died trying to protect her, and Hermione died trying to get to him. Both had a sufficient amount of blood for them yet the wounds weren't what killed them. They'd been tortured, two snapped wands lay strewn around the room in pieces. The emotions that flooded through Harry were impossible to even pinpoint, but all Harry could do was cry. He'd finally broken down overwhelmed with his own emotions. This was his final loss. It was impossible to believe Hermione Granger, the brightest witch Harry had ever known, and Ronald Weasley, his best friend were dead. Harry couldn't piece it together, nothing made sense. They must have been surprised or in the middle of something because they both were trained, not to mention they'd seen their fair share of surprise attacks... Yet they were dead. Their funeral was held on the coldest day in November and possibly the darkest Harry had ever lived through. It took him a long time to find meaning after that. His friends had been slaughtered and he had nothing else.

Nothing else aside from Hagrid, of course. Word of their deaths had drifted to Hagrid within the first twenty four hours. Rita Skeeter had made the entire thing public information of the sickest sort. He himself was even overwhelmed with the bitter emotions. Anger had flooded him until every last vein on his neck popped out, but then the sadness set in causing him to break down in a sobbing mess clutching Fang tight to his half giant chest. Fang howled in sadness and the two were all that could be heard int he dead of night on the Hogwarts grounds. Hagrid however knew that there was someone that was in much more pain than him. Even if he'd watched these kids grow up right before his eyes and face the unthinkable, even for adults; there was someone else that was hurting more. Someone he hadn't seen in over two months which of course meant the pair were long overdue anyways; sadly the grounds of this meeting weren't as pleasant as he'd liked, but Hagrid set out anyways. Harry needed him.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I actually had intended for this to be a one shot and significantly longer but.. plot bunnies have begun to run rabid in my head so i'm going to break it up a bit! Poor Mister Potter is in for quite a bit more. I'd like to hear thoughts if you have them! This is obviously alternate to the finale of Deathly Hallows since the epilogue still – doesn't sit well with me. Anyways, have at it!