Disclaimer:

I do not own Harry Potter, unfortunately. Every characters are owned and originated by JK Rowling. This is a post war fan-fiction.

I deeply apologize if there will be some grammatical errors. Any errors will be corrected in the future.


PROLOGUE

Three Years Ago

May 18, 1998

Grimmauld Place

Harry swore that the winds were definitely speaking.

It was nonetheless strange and angry. It was as if the strong winds were trying to get past his windows like Dementors hungry for a soul. They were raucous and violent, slamming and banging the place's multiple windows until some were fit as disrupted.

It won't let him slip to his most desired slumber after the long war battled with Voldemort. Harry was just biting his tongue to prevent himself from calling Kreacher or scream as if both will put an end to his misery. It is a pleasant night indeed to go with his paranoias. Bloody perfect, Ron would say.

He rolled over his bed and The Boy Who Lived unconsciously rubbed his scar for any signs of pain that really was not there anymore. It simply became a psychological pain that he was battling every single time he wonders if something might have gone wrong. Tom Riddle died. He saw it with his own eyes, when the battle of red and green combusted into a bright white light, dust and smoke surrounded them and a snake-like man clad in a black robe laid lifeless onto the ground. He knew the man had died, but it did not stop him from being paranoid in these kind of situations. It indeed includes a strange weather.

It continued on for hours. For a moment, he wished he should have asked Ron, Ginny or Hermione to stay with him: three people who were entitled to see his weakness.

A sudden sound of apparition saved Harry from his ongoing distraught. "M..Master." said Kreacher.

Harry jolted up and rubbed his eyes. It was just then when he had put on his glasses that he saw the state Kreacher was in. The poor house-elf looked troubled and shaking in fear. "Kreacher, what's wrong?" He started to feel anxious as well.

"Kreacher is here to inform Master that he is needed in the house of the Blo- Blood Traitors." The poor elf suddenly locked his eyes to the floor as if it found something interesting in the intricate patterns. "Kreacher is also here to inform.."

"Kreacher, do not address my friends as Blood Traitors again." Harry reprimanded and the eyes of his house elf was on him once again. He did not like it in anyway, as the eyes that met his were uncertain and scared. It was far from the stern and hostile stares Kreacher bestowed onto him on his first stay in Grimmauld Place. "Now, I am not liking this. Inform me of what exactly, Kreacher?"

"Kreacher is also here to inform that Master's friend Hermione Granger is dead."