This story takes place just after seventh year ends. Harry has defeated Voldemort, and he became an animagus while he did it (phoenix, for whoever wants to know). That is really the only back story to this.

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After the train pulled into Platform 9 ¾ and al of the students poured out to meet their parents, Harry found himself alone. He was standing in front of the train station by himself, dragging behind him a large wooden trunk and a cage with a screeching owl. He felt even more out of place now than he had any other year. Because this year, no one had picked him up.

He soon realized that the reason no one was picking him up was that the Dursley's felt that they had no reason to have anything to do with Harry any more, now that he was the age of majority.

Harry barely remembered how he had gotten to Diagon Alley, but he did, somehow. He stayed at the Leaky Cauldron for days, and those days were hard on him. he was searching for a pad, somewhere to stay. Finally, after almost a week, he found the perfect place. It was small, that was true. It was not particularly fancy, but it was the perfect place. Looking right over the whole of Diagon Alley, on top of Fred and George's new shop. They had moved out of their small location and into a larger storefront in the alley. There were four apartments on top of the store; they lied in two, they rented one to Harry, and they were trying to find another tenant.

"It's going to be great, mate, we're going to find a nice guy, and we are going to spend the rest of our lives partying!" George said.

Harry smiled. He loved being in Diagon Alley, and he loved being over the joke shop, but he wasn't sure how he liked being next door to a Weasley. Mrs. Weasley was so worried about him after everything he had been through, she would probably get them to report back to her.

He shook off the thought just as Fred offered him a job.

"I mean, I know you have a lot of money, but you still need some source of income, Harry."

George nodded. "We don't pay much, but we give a discount on your room, and some free stuff."

Harry grinned. "Sure! For the time being, I do need a job."

The twons nodded together. "It's a deal." They went back downstairs. Harry looked around his room. Ugly yellow walls, moldy grey carpet, peeling paint on the ceiling.

He sighed. "This could use a bit of sprucing up." He muttered. He pointed his wand at the wall. "Red." He said after muttering a spell, and the walls slowly faded from yellow to a bright Gryffindor red.

He pointed to the floor, did the same spell, and the same on the ceiling. When he was done, it looked almost exactly like his dormitory at Hogwarts, minus anything actually in it. he looked at his trunk, and realized how little he actually had.

Not enough to furnish an apartment.

Two weeks later, Fred and George still had not found another tenant. "We're interviewing someone tomorrow." George said. "Too bad you won't be here, they would probably like to meet you."

Harry nodded. He was going to visit Ron for the weekend, since it was Ron's birthday.

"Tell mum we're sorry we couldn't make it." Fred said. "But we can't close shop on a Saturday. At least one of us should be there for dinner, though."

Harry nodded. "Sure, no problem. I don't think it would be so bad, closing at 5 instead of 9? We don't normally get customers that late on Saturdays anyway."

They both shrugged. "Maybe."

Harry said goodbye, took off his glasses and apparated to the Burrow. He opened his eyes and smiled at the familiar sight.

"Harry!" Ron called out as Harry put his glasses back on.

Harry grinned when he saw his friend. "Good to see you, mate! Fred and George said they might be over for dinner."

Ron nodded and Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out his gift.

"Happy birthday, Ron." Ron's eyes grew wide as he looked at the bundle Harry was holding. "Sorry it's not wrapped." He muttered, but Ron shook his head.

"It's perfect!" He said grinning.

He pulled out item after item; Canary Creams; Catherine Wheels, firecrackers and rockets; Fainting Fancies; even a bit of Nosebleed Nougat.

"Thanks, Harry!" Ron said. "Come on inside."

Harry was surprised at how relaxed the Weasleys were, especially Mrs. Weasley. He had expected them to be so worried about him, but they weren't. he had an amazing weekend, staying in Ron's room with him, playing Quiddich, eating, and laughing. It was over far too quickly. Before he knew it, it was time for Harry to go home.

'Thanks for letting me stay here." He said.

Ron grinned. "No problem! It was fun."

Harry grinned back. "Bye, Ron." He waved to the rest of the Weasley clan and apparated.

He opened his eyes again and looked around at his apartment. "Home, sweet home." He said.

"Harry!" George said when Harry got downstairs, "perfect, I wanted to go downstairs and help Fred with our new merchandise." He jumped up and disappeared through the back room into the basement.

Harry sat down behind the desk and pulled out a copy of the Daily Prophet. He did not know why he still read the paper after everything they had done to him. They had blamed horrible things on him, made him look like a fool, and printed straight out lies about him. Yet he still read it.

The article on the front page was about the Minister making a speech about Voldemort. Harry read over what he had said.

'The Ministry has worked very hard to stop this great foe. And finally, after years of work, we have succeeded. Brave men and women, Ministry officials, succeeded in defeating the Dark Lord.'

Harry frowned. He hated how much either the Daily Prophet or the Ministry lied. The Ministry had only been involved in the Second War from the start of Harry's sixth year, after he proved that Voldemort was alive in his fifth. There had been no Ministry officials involved in the death of Tom Riddle. Harry had killed him, plain and simple, with Ron and Hermione behind him.

Voldemort had come to mock him again. The war was raging in and outside of Hogwarts, and Voldemort had wanted to make sure Harry knew. Only, Harry had realized he would come, and was prepared for him all the time. Voldemort never saw the curse coming. That was the first time Harry had ever killed anyone. He hoped it was the last.

A few minutes after Harry started reading, the door opened, and a young woman stepped in. Harry glanced up at her to see if she needed any help, only to see her staring at him through dark brown eyes, her small mouth hanging open.

"Harry? Harry Potter?" She said.

Harry closed his eyes. He didn't want to deal with this. "Yes." He opened his eyes. As he did, he realized this was not someone who wanted his autograph.

"Harry, don't you recognize me?" She said.

Harry grinned. "Of course I do." He said.

She put a hand on her hip and frowned. "Then who am I?" She said haughtily.

"Cho Chang." Harry said, leaning back in his chair and putting his hands behind his head.

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Okay, this is a short chapter because it is the first one. It is not too long (I'm almost done writing it) but I hope to extend it as I write. Please review it, I look forward to all of your responses!

"Sam will kill him if he tries anything."

-unolimbo