DISCLAIMER AT THE BOTTOM

Well…so much for that. Now what?

By EliCa

Harry killed Voldemort.

Ron sipped at the coffee Hermione had made, as they all sat in the kitchen of Hermione's house. Her parents were out at the moment, but would be back soon laden with some exciting parcels… as they had done every day for the past three days.

'So what do you think that you're going to do now?' Hermione asked Harry, who was playing with a wooden apple that decorated the kitchen table that sat in the centre of the wooden room.

'Now?' Harry exhaled. 'Well, I'll be honest with both of you. I'm free of something that I thought would take a bit longer than it did. At the moment I'm young, single, quite rich, pretty happy with life, and not in a rush to do anything that could spoil it.'

Hermione smiled. She was pleased that Harry was so carefree at the moment. It was about three weeks since Harry had plunged Godric Gryffindor's sword into Voldemort, and it had taken that long to get to this kind of stage of open discussion.

'Why don't you plan something fun to do?' Asked Ron. 'I need to get a job fairly soon – but I don't think that you need to hurry into it.' What a mark of closeness that Ron could say that without embarrassment…Harry smiled.

'No, I'll be working for the rest of my life; there's no need to rush. I mean, that'll be quite a long time now hopefully!'

'That's not very funny Harry.' Scolded Hermione lightly.

'Not really, but it's nice to say.'

'Any chance of a biscuit Hermione?' Ron asked, realising what was missing from his drink. As she got up to fetch one from a packet in the cupboard, Ron could see out of the window. The view was of Hermione's garden. He could see right to the fence at the end of the lawn, and all of the plants that were planted a bit haphazardly in the beds around the edge. One tree was prominent in the centre of the grass, with its branches stretching to the boundaries on either side, leaves starting to brown and fall.

'You know that Mum and Dad are moving soon,' Hermione said as she sat down to join the boys, with a chocolate covered digestive in hand (the ultimate comfort biscuit, and Hermione's favourite) 'and they're going to be buying me my own place in London.'

'Are you serious?' Ron exclaimed, letting the chocolate biscuit Hermione handed to him get slightly crushed in his fingers. 'That's so cool…'

'Well, yes, it is. I mean, Mum and Dad have thought about leaving here for ages…but it's in quite a good location, and they haven't had a motivation. But now that they know that I want to be in London…'

'I didn't know that' interjected Harry.

'Well, that's where all of the work is, right?' Hermione said a bit defensively.

'And Ron.' Said Harry knowingly, smiling a bit into his own rather cold coffee.

'And Ron' she admitted turning a bit pink. 'But in any case…I'm going to be moving to London.'

'Well then we'll all be there.' Harry said, giving up on his coffee, which had started to give him a stomach ache. 'I've just made my first decision.'

'Congratulations.'

'Thank you Ron. I am going to gut number twelve, Grimmauld Place.'

'Gut it?'

'Yes Hermione, gut it. Rip out the insides of the house with so much destructive force that there will be nothing there. Then I am going to rebuild it from the inside out so that it is unrecognisable. Then I can live there without all of the...well, so that it feels like my home.' Harry glanced out of the window so that he wouldn't have to look at Ron or Hermione's astounded faces. 'I think that it's the right thing to do. You know, start afresh.'

Ron whistled. 'Well…you're going to need a bit of help I think.'

Harry grinned. 'Maybe, but I may just have a bit of fun with a few well placed reducing spells and a sledgehammer.'

'You will be careful with that won't you?' Hermione said, a little concerned. She knew exactly just how irresponsible with own safety Harry could be after spending a year with him and Ron slowly destroying Voldemort, piece of soul by piece of soul.

'Are you saying that you don't trust me after so many years of friendship?'

Hermione and Ron looked at each other a little sceptically.

Ginny Weasley had been condemned to go back to Hogwarts after Harry had killed Voldemort. In fact, she had been condemned to do pretty much nothing whilst he, Hermione, and Ron went around doing lots of risky heroic things. She spent her time helping what was left of the Order of the Phoenix after Dumbledore had been murdered.

So she found herself on the train back to Hogwarts, filled with even more people than usual, after several in the year above her had decided to study with the year below so that they could complete their NEWTs. In fact, Ginny was surprised that Hermione wasn't sitting with her on the train, instead of going off to London with her brother. Ginny sighed as she watched the countryside going past her.

She didn't blame Harry for not running straight to her arms after he had finished his personal quest. He hadn't promised anything after all…but he had said that he was only breaking up with her because he liked her too much…that she wasn't safe. But she did feel a little resentment that she hadn't been with anybody since him, and she didn't think that she wanted to be with anybody at Hogwarts this year either…all because she knew in the recesses of her heart that they belonged together, and he was going to come to his senses soon.

For now though, she just had to try and concentrate on her schoolwork in the massively changed Hogwarts. McGonagall was Headmistress, and there were going to be new teachers for Potions and Defence Against the Dark Arts. She didn't know what had happened to Snape, but she knew that his disappearance had something to do with Harry. Killing Voldemort she understood and threw off as a necessary thing that someone had to do…but if Snape was dead…well, she didn't want to know about it. Not now. It was a bit fresh.

'We're nearly at Hogwarts Ginny,' said Graham, a Ravenclaw in her year who she had been sitting silently next to for the past two hours.

'Oh, thanks.' She said, as the carriage hurriedly got ready for a new term. Ginny pinned a Prefect's badge to her robes as she walked out of the Prefect's carriage to hurry along the younger years.

Harry and Ron had made a habit of going out for a drink in a different pub almost every night. Sometimes Hermione would join them, other times, different friends would come along too. It was pleasant, and a good way of meeting lots of people who lived in the same city as themselves. Tonight, even Remus Lupin, who approached Muggle Pubs warily, joined them.

'I can't believe that you come to these places regularly. They smell so bad.' He was heard moaning soon after sitting down with a drink.

'Don't forget that you've got enhanced scent…and anyway, it's not that bad.' Ron tried to defend the unpleasant smoky odour.

'Or at least,' entered Harry, 'it's not enough to make us stay away. What kind of reputation would we make for ourselves if we ended up in The Leaky Cauldron every night?'

Ron chuckled. 'I can see the headline in the Daily Prophet now. You would be the drunkard, and I'd be leading you astray. We can try and find some seedy women too.' Even Lupin joined in with the merriment.

'Well, I suppose that this beer is a bit better than some of the stuff they offer at the Cauldron…'

'Undoubtedly better.' Chimed in Ron.

'And if it keeps you out of trouble…'

'And the headlines, don't forget them.' Added Ron again,

'Then I'm pleased that you like your new hobby.'

'Cheers to that' said Harry, raising his bottle, joined by two others in a salute to Lupin's endorsement.

'How's the house project going Harry?' Remus asked.

Harry thought a little before answering. 'Well…gutting was successful.'

'Was?' Asked Remus warily…Ron (who already knew what was going on) just grinned into his own bottle.

'I'm sleeping on rubble.'

'Harry!' Admonished Remus, 'you should probably get to stage two before you do your back in.'

'I will! I'm just having a few…disagreements with my architect.'

'See, Remus, Harry has very responsibly hired an architect. He's not such an idiot after all, who could easily sleep on the floor of his friend's houses, but instead decides to sleep on some breeze blocks…'

'I'll come over tonight if it makes you shut up Ron.' Ron shrugged his shoulders to show that it was fine for Harry to stay whenever he wanted. 'Anyway, my architect thinks that I should be trying to stick with the original style of the building to emphasise the gothic features or something. I don't think that he quite understands the motivation behind the project or else he wouldn't have suggested it.'

'What kind of look are you after?' Remus asked.

'Modern.'

Remus raised his eyebrows.

'Ok, that's a bit broad…but something clean, you know. Lots of big spaces and chrome…you know the kind of thing. Anything that is nothing like Grimmauld Place mark one.'

'I would have thought that you would've wanted something a bit more homely…you know, like the Gryffindor common room somewhere in your ideal house.' Ron said.

'Ah, well,…I did…but …my architect didn't really understand. He came up with something resembling a sado-masochistic torture chamber for my bedroom.' Harry started to laugh. 'I don't think I know where my description went wrong…but I burnt the blueprints myself to avoid them getting into the newspaper. Modern is much safer with this guy.'

'He sounds like an idiot.' Ron said sagely.

'He is, I assure you.'

'So why don't you hire someone else?' Remus asked.

'Well, I would, but there's something of a monopoly over magical architects. There's so much magic in the house that I can't have just anyone messing around…and as idiotic as my man is…he's also good at getting the job done. Once the designs are finalised anyhow. Have you ever seen Dai Llewellyn's house?'

'Only in my Mum's Witch Weekly.' Said Ron as Remus nodded.

'Well, that was my man's job. He's got a good track record, he's just so…overcomplicated. I'm a simple man with simple needs…and a special whip stand just doesn't come into it.'

They all laughed the rest of the night away with carefree banter.

Hermione Granger had settled into her new home. It was a very small flat in North London, with just enough rooms to qualify it as a dwelling place. To be honest, for just her and the visitors she entertained, it was perfect. The previous owners had been pretty conservative in their tastes, so she was perfectly happy living in a pastel pink bathroom, and very light blue bedroom. For the first time in her life…she had a double bed to call her own. It was luxurious.

Actually, for the first time in her life, she was completely and utterly free. She was yet to start any type of employment, there was no school (no Voldemort either), and she was still single. Well, sort of. Despite the fact that she and Ron were kind of…steadily getting used to being in love, and being loved – they were still not officially a couple. As Hermione lay on her big inviting bed, she had to ask herself why not. All her rather substantial mind could come up with, was that they were both a little nervous.

Harry was in the flat that Ron treated a bit like his own, but actually belonged to Fred and George. On the nights that he did sleep here (actually more often than Ron had indicated to Remus), he slept on the sofa. It was a little bit more comfortable than his mattress on breeze blocks…but not by much. The problem was not with the sofa itself, which was perfectly nice, but that he was substantially longer than the sofa was. Harry had tried all sorts of sleeping positions in the past to try and get comfortable, and none of them worked, so tonight he just resigned himself (and his back) to a night of distress.

Harry had other problems with regard to sleeping too. He was having problems with his emotions. He had assumed at Dumbledore's funeral that he would break up with Ginny, kill Voldemort, or die. If he survived, then he would get back together with Ginny, or he would have found someone new. Neither of those things had happened. He was still here, lying on a friend's sofa…distinctly single. Ginny had shown no intention of getting back together with him, and from what information he could glean from Ron, nor with getting with anybody else. But then again, Ron wasn't the most well-informed source on Ginny.

He didn't even know how he felt any more. He didn't know whether it was worth getting with her, or whether he wanted simply to be with anyone – and she just happened to be at the top of the list considering that she was his most recent girlfriend.

Most recent. That was a year ago.

Harry groaned out loud at the mere fact, and struggled with the sofa, only to end up in an even worse place than he was before. He gave up and fell asleep.

Harry had only been asleep for an hour before the front door opened, and a dark figure crept in through the door, followed by a distinctly solid shadow…a giggling figure followed them, and was shushed by the shadow. Harry stirred a little, but remained asleep. The group, that was now four people breathed a very quiet sigh of relief, and proceeded into the flat.

Authors Note

Harry Potter and The Half Blood Prince hasn't been on our bookshelves for longer than two and a half months, and already there is a certain amount of cliché emerging in fanfiction. Granted, there is an excuse. With six books gone, and only one to go, there is only a certain direction that fanfiction can really go – unless we fanfic authors are really going to plug the realms of the extreme.

I don't want to do that, but I'll say now...that I hope that I'm not too clichéd. All I can do is hope…

I don't own Harry Potter (if I did, I wouldn't be able to keep my silence in the admirable way JKR does).