A/N: this is a new story, and the first one I have written, so be patient. I am going to try and upload every week and each upload with be around 1500 words. Please read and review, I don't have anything against flames, just make them constructive so I can improve!

Harry jerked awake from his dreamless sleep to see the underside of his four-poster bed. He had fallen asleep with his glasses on, and couldn't remember why. He remembered very clearly the hordes of people waiting to give him their congratulations, how annoyed he had gotten, yelling at them to shut up, he also remembered how exhausted he was, he must have fallen asleep in the armchair by the fire and someone must have taken him up here. The night before, Harry had just wanted to catch a break, wishing that he could be left alone to come to terms with what had happened in the 24 hours beforehand.

Harry Potter, the Boy-who-lived, lied, survived and conquered was still in shock from finally defeating Voldemort, he thought that it would have surely been a dream, but the pulsing pain in his chest and forehead told him that it had indeed been real. If he remembered rightly, he had also defeated death, and defied almost all laws concerning dying. He supposed that this made him almost invincible, but chuckled and pushed that thought away from his mind; he couldn't be dealing with an overlarge ego now could he? He stood up and wobbled, his balance still having not recovered from being dead, even if it was for only a few minutes. He still hadn't fully come to terms with what defeating Voldemort would mean to him, and he really didn't want to try.

Harry had known for a long time that Voldemort would be his future, and never wanted to actually consider what would happen when he was gone, in case it didn't happen. Usually, all he could see when he looked ahead was darkness, but now that had gone, replaced by blankness, nothingness, because he had no idea what to do without the pressure of the world hanging on his shoulders. Now it had gone, he found another, new worry to add to his collection, and that was: what would he do with his life now Voldemort had gone, he didn't really want to become an Auror, because he decided that he had been facing dark wizards for so long that he really didn't want to do that for the rest of his life. He supposed that he could always work for the Ministry, but he thought that he would rather not be tangled up in that web of lies, suspicion and politics. So the real question was what the hell happens next?

As he hobbled his way to the bathroom, he was still thinking about this, although after knocking his head on the door frame, he found that he was taller and his muscles were more defined. He looked in the mirror and was shocked by his appearance, his first thought was that he looked like shit, but then he took a closer look at his face, and found that his jaw had become more defined and he had lost the baby fat from his cheeks. He also saw that his lightning bolt scar had become less defined, and was now only a thin line on his forehead- it could easily be missed and Harry enjoyed the prospect of not having everyone gawk at his face. He then proceeded to take of his bloody t-shirt and inspect his chest. A large round scar was placed just above his heart, where the killing curse had struck him. 'Oh well,' he thought, 'at least this one isn't as visible!' His chest was also becoming more and more muscular, something he was sure that his adoring fans would long to see.

With another chuckle and a head shake, Harry scourgified his t-shirt and jeans and walked back into the room. On closer inspection he found that the boy's dormitory was empty and his first thought was Ron, which in turn reminded him of Hermione and the kiss that they had shared. A pang of hurt ran through his chest and he sighed, remembering all of the times they had spent together when Harry would steal glances at Hermione, without Ron noticing. As he walked down the stairs to the common room he felt the first wave of guilt hit him almost physically and he stopped dead.

Fred, Collin, Tonks and Moony all ran through his mind and he felt an overwhelming amount of shame engulf him, why weren't they the first thing he thought of when he woke? Would things have turned out differently if he had surrendered himself to Voldemort quicker? Would they still be alive? Would Harry himself have been able to save them had he known?

These questions ran through his mind again and again, and he almost subconsciously sat down, leaving him on the stairs, staring into the distance with his eyes filled to the brim with tears. The first tear rolled down his face and he buried his head into his hands. He sobbed until he had no more tears; sat there on the steps he decided that he was going to do something about it. Anything he could.

His mind drifted to Dumbledore and what he would have to say about Harry's decision, it was then that Harry realised that all Dumbledore would say about it would be 'Harry my boy, there is no need to rush into things, take some time and relax.' Harry's chest swelled as he filled with anger and hurt. Dumbledore had acted like he was Harry's guardian, always telling what he could and couldn't know and do; it was partially his fault that the war had ended the way it did. Harry knew that if Dumbledore had wanted to, the war could have ended years before and many lives could have been spared. Well he finally realised that the old man had manipulated him and he god damn wasn't happy about it. Harry decided then and there that he was done with all the rules, he was going to play his way, and if anyone came in between him and what he wanted, then they were going to be royally fucked.

He stormed down into the common room and through the portrait of the fat lady, ignoring all of the congratulations that were yelled at him. He ran out of the castle and all the way down to the forbidden forest. He had no clue of how to save all of the people that had died, and he didn't even know that it was possible, so he took his frustration out on the nature around him. His thoughts once again turned to Ron and Hermione and he hit a tree so hard that he thought it might tumble down on top of him.

Although he wouldn't admit it out loud, Harry loved Hermione as more than a sister, but always knew that she would never return his feelings. She was far too intelligent and beautiful to want someone who came with all of his baggage. He didn't know how long he had liked her for, but he was certain that it was a hell of a lot longer than Ron had. In all honesty, he had never wanted to go out with Ginny or Cho, but by the way Hermione had always looked at Ron, Harry knew that there was no way he was ever going to get Hermione. So he gritted his teeth and got on with his life, he knew that it was wrong, and he would never admit it to anyone, but Cho was a distraction from the ever increasing pressure on Harry, and she made him feel almost normal. That was comforting to him, but only increased the pressure once their disastrous relationship had come to an end. Ginny was much the same- she had thrown herself onto him and he didn't have the heart to say no and face the Weasley brothers wrath.

It was also painfully clear to him that Ginny had never gotten over her childhood crush on the Boy-who-lived, and Harry couldn't be any more different to the stereo-type. In his short relationship with Ginny, Harry also found that she was an incredibly jealous person by nature, and that he could barely look at another girl without her bursting into tears and claiming that he had cheated on him. 'Must run in the family' Harry thought, but immediately felt bad, Mr Weasley, Bill, Charlie, Fred and George weren't that bad. Harry once again felt a gaping hole in his chest thinking of Fred. He wondered how George was holding up; he shuddered and thought about what it must be like to be so close to a person, then to have them cruelly ripped away from you. This led Harry right back onto the subject of Ron and Hermione.

He hoped that Ron was happy, there was finally something that he got that Harry didn't. Harry hit the tree again and slid to the ground. For the second time that day Harry cried. He felt all of the emotions that he had supressed for years and let it all out, screaming at the world for how unfair it was to him. He had lost everyone that was dear to him, his parents, Sirius, Moony and even Fred; he had also lost Hermione in a sense. Harry didn't understand why the world was so cruel to him, and why he deserved it out of everyone. He snivelled and sat up, another rage filling him. This rage however, could not be solved by crying and hitting the trees, Harry lifted up his hand and sent a bolt of light out towards the nearest gap in the trees. He saw the explosion of white fire and knew that the spell had hit its target.

He looked around him for something else to hit with the enormous power he was feeling, and a glimmer of gold caught his eye, he stopped moving and peered at it. It was some sort of chain that was moving towards him. He was confused and cautious, remembering Mr Weasley's words in his second year: 'don't trust anything that can think for itself if you can see where it keeps its brain.' Harry didn't even know if this device was thinking for itself, but he did know that it was fast approaching him and that he was glued to the spot. The last thought he had before the chain touched him and his world went black was: 'for fucks sake, why can't I get a break?'

There is the first chapter folks, hope you enjoyed it!

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