Chapter 1
On September 1st, the year after Voldemort was defeated, two men walked up to the barrier dividing the Wizarding Platform from the rest of Muggle Kings Cross. Any passerby could tell they had a bond closer than that of normal friends.

Their haunted eyes held the same jaded look that made them seem like they were far older than they actually were. They both wore ragged muggle clothing that made a few people turn up their noses but carried themselves like warriors. Large eye-bags hung beneath both green and blue orbs but their eyes flickered about attentively. The two were quite the contradiction and that is what made people stare.

These two men were known to the muggles that knew them as Ron Weasley and Harry Potter but to their fellow witches and wizards, they were unwillingly given the title of Saviours of the Wizarding World, along with one Hermione Granger.

It was strange for them to be going back for another year at Hogwarts when they both should have just graduated. The war impacted a lot of things, school being one of them so Hogwarts had made an Eighth Year for all those 7th years whose education had been disrupted. Many of them had wanted to return, Harry and Ron being two of that number.

And so it was that the Boy Who Lived and his best mate were off to Hogwarts to join their surviving friends in the newly introduced 8th year classes.

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Harry and Ron were silent as they approached the platform, both deep in thought. Before the war, it was unusual to see the two not talking or joking around but the war had affected both of them in many ways. These days, it was strange to find either of them laughing around like they used to.

The two of them had tried to regain some semblance of a normal lifestyle after the war had ended but it was just too soon. The wounds were too fresh and the only thing either of them wanted was to have some proper time to mourn the loss of their friends who had given their lives for the sake of their world.

Harry had never before had the chance, with all the things constantly happening but he knew that if he had, he might have been able to recover a lot faster. With Sirius, Harry had moped for months. Sirius was family but just like that he had been taken away. Just after Sirius died, Harry had been carted back to his Aunt's who made him work non-stop, not giving him anytime to mourn.

Ron felt the same. When Fred died, he had been so busy making sure the rest of the family was going to be alright that he forgot to look after himself. Nobody did it for him and he found himself sinking into a deep depression as time went past.

It was not a nice feeling and neither of them wanted to go through it again.

They took one step towards the barrier as if to make sure that the moment wasn't a dream and then continued towards it. Or rather, Ron did. Harry had stopped and was scanning the area, a thoughtful look settling on his face.

"What is it mate?" Ron asked quietly, a hand creeping to his wand holster.

Harry slowly shook his head in bewilderment, a frown creasing his face as he answered. "I...I don't know how to explain it. It just feels like there is something's missing."

As soon as the words left his lips, the answer came to him and his emotions rapidly closed down. A glance at Ron told him that he had realised the answer as well. They both stared at each other for a minute, both of them trying to muster up the courage to speak.

Harry took the chance to do a bit of scouting. The war had engrained a deep sense of paranoia into everyone that fought and it wasn't easy to get rid of.

He couldn't see any obvious signs of wizards or witches, but of course, that didn't mean anything. They could be here under a spell or charm or have even taken the polyjuice potion. Maybe they even bothered to do their research and were hiding in plain sight as one of the Muggles.

Harry sighed as he realised how far his paranoia had gotten, breaking the silence. Ron tiredly dragged a hand across his face.

"I don't know what to do..." He whispered brokenly, a heavy feeling settling in his chest.

Abandoning his search, Harry lay his hand on Ron's shoulder and looked at his friend. He really looked at him for the first time in days if not weeks. He seemed to be in a permanent slouch with his shoulders slumped inwards but still tense. Always tense, ready to fight at a moments notice.

The war had taken a lot out of all of them but between the two, Ron probably had had to bear the most stress. He had a family to worry about. The Weasley's were Harry's second family and he only needed to think about Sirius to know how much it would have effected Ron if one of them was hurt while the trio were hunting down the Horcruxes.

Although the war was long over, the remains of the years of fighting had remained with all of those who defended the light or even fought with Voldemort, some more than others. Harry knew that of course, he just didn't realise how much it had effected Ron.

"She would have wanted us to remain strong." Harry finally spoke. "She would have wanted us to live for her." He choked back a sob but let a tear slide down his cheek as Ron gave a small, almost unnoticeable nod in reply.

The two wizards stayed like that until it was almost time for the train to leave, just taking comfort from each other's presence. They quickly passed through the barrier and were immediately subjected to hundreds of stares from witches and wizards who wanted to get a glimpse of the famed Saviours.

Both of them hurried to find an empty compartment and settled down with a sigh of relief. Ron glanced at Harry who was levitating his trunk into storage.

"Ready?" He asked as Harry sat down opposite him.

"Not at all."

They shared a small grin and the compartment lapsed into silence once more.