Set after their Hogwarts years, focuses on Harry, Hermione, Draco and others. It does not really follow the events that transpired in HBP especially in regards to Dumbledore. Hope this doesn't deter you from reading it. Characters copyrighted to J.K Rowling

.:Chapter 1 – The End:.

A biting wind swept through the charred and desolate remains of Godric's Hollow. Harry Potter stood, bloodstained and battle-weary, his wand hanging limply at his side. An endless labyrinth of shattered buildings and scorched earth separated him from a man who stood robed in black, and cloaked in darkness. A man who, for all of Harry's life, had tried to kill him and now finally had his chance.

The cold wind screeched through Harry's ears and tore at his already tattered robes exposing the deep gashes that lay riveted in his flesh. A puddle of crimson was growing beneath him as blood dripped from his sodden robes. He could feel himself swaying; his vision drifting in and out of focus yet still the menacing frame of Voldemort always remained the same.

The feeling of light-headedness overcame Harry and he grasped desperately for support as he felt his body's strength finally leave him. He was shaking all over, droplets of fever sweat had begun to appear over his skin mingling with the caked on blood. Unsteadily, he raised his hand to feel the side of his head; a warm dampness greeted his touch and when he looked at his fingertips he could see they were covered in blood. The blood from his temple began to flow freely now, carving out a path down his bruised and battered cheek.

"I give you credit Harry, you lasted longer than your parents did," hissed Lord Voldemort coldly, "but why prolong the inevitable?"

At the mention of his parents, Harry raised his emerald eyes to meet those of the man who had plagued his life like an incurable cancer. Voldemort's snake-like eyes narrowed at the sight of Harry's defiant glare. The boy was not broken, no, not yet, but that was a problem that could be easily remedied. The Dark Lord raised his wand revelling in the seeming helplessness of his victim.

"It's over Harry Potter!"

Harry's legs buckled beneath him; for the first time in seven long torturous years, Harry Potter accepted his fate. The images and sounds of his past flashed before his eyes in a stream of torture.

The lifeless body of Cedric...

the piercing screams of Cho...

the bloodied face of Ron.

Everything he had once held dear had been cruelly taken away from him, now he would join them and end his suffering. His eyes closed...

Don't give up! Harry... don't!

It was at that moment, that he began to hear a song, a song that he knew so well... the song of the Phoenix. It filled Harry with a renewed hope, a hope that he might be able to end this war now; all was not yet lost. Staggering to his feet, Harry raised his wand once more. This fight was not over, not yet.

Voldemort's jaw clenched in disgust as he too heard the sound grow ever closer. His knuckles cracked as he tightened his grip on his wand that still remained pointed at Harry.

"Dumbledore," he spat. "I knew it would only be a matter of time before you showed up to save him... again."

"This is a battle you cannot win, Tom," spoke a familiar voice from behind Harry.

Harry's head turned to meet the kindly gaze of his Headmaster - a warm feeling of relief washed over his exhausted and battered frame. It felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, he even managed to muster a quivering smile.

"Oh, I beg to differ; his life is mine for the taking. Could it be that you crave death too?"

"On the contrary, it is my respect and understanding of the importance of life that has brought me here. This is something you will never understand, Tom," replied Dumbledore solemnly. "Sometimes in order for one to embrace life, one must make certain sacrifices."

For the first time, Dumbledore's eyes met with Harry's and a sudden realisation hit the young man. Pain shot through him, coursing through his veins, a pain like no other he had ever felt. The realisation was simple.

Dumbledore had come here knowing full well that he would never leave this forsaken place.

Tears of heartache trickled down Harry's face, weaving a path through the bloodstains and dirt. His head shook in silent disbelief at the event he was about to witness.

"Not even Dumbledore can save you now, Harry Potter!" screeched the Dark Lord as he raised his wand once more. "AVADA KEDAVRA!"

In the moments that followed it was not Voldemort's cruel eyes that met his own, but the kind blue eyes of his smiling Headmaster. Seconds felt like an eternity as Harry watched the blinding green light envelop Dumbledore. He watched in horror as Albus' lifeless frame fell to the floor, but his death would not be in vain.

Raising his wand, he screamed out the words that would forever reverberate in his mind.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

Harry's body shot bolt upright, beads of cold sweat trickled down his torso as he awoke from the dream that had forever haunted his nights since that fateful day. His breathing was ragged as he clutched his head in his hands - a desperate attempt to contain the misery and the guilt he felt inside. He could feel his pulse pounding against the sides of his head, his heart knocking out a fearful rhythm.

Why?

WHY?

Why am I always left behind?

"Mmhh"

Slowly, his hands fell away from his face as he heard the soft murmuring of the woman who lay beside him. Harry turned his head towards her; his eyes traced the curves of her body, veiled beneath the bed sheets. He felt nothing.

Her mouth was slightly parted and he could hear her breathing, interrupted by gentle mumbles. He turned away from Hermione's sleeping body; the strong emotions he had once felt for her were gone now. His past had taken away from him the ability to love and to feel any kind of real emotion other than guilt and hate. With each passing day he felt himself slowly slip into the abyss of insanity, devoid of all emotion... an empty shell in an empty world.

Dawn was breaking through the thick cloak of night and Harry still sat on the edge of the bed, neither awake nor asleep. His empty stare was fixed on a photograph of Hermione, Ron and himself, all of them waving and smiling. It was the day they had received their NEWTs. They all looked so relieved like they hadn't a care in the world... little did they know what cruelty fate had in store for them. A loan tear fell from Harry's vacant, expressionless eyes. It was his fault, his fault that Ron was... dead.

He wanted to close his eyes and shut away their laughing faces, but every time he did Ron's lifeless face was there haunting him.

Ron.

His body heaved as he choked on the lump of grief caught in his throat. He tried in vain to fight back a torrent of tears; tears for those he had lost and those he had hurt.

"Harry?" whispered a concerned voice.

A gentle touch on his exposed shoulder caused Harry to turn slightly to meet the worried face of Hermione Granger.

"You... had another nightmare, didn't you?" she questioned softly.

"Oh, I'm sorry, did I wake you up?" replied Harry offhandishly.

"Would you stop avoiding the question?"

"I'm not!" exclaimed Harry, more angrily than need be.

"Why don't you ever give me answer then?" persisted Hermione, withdrawing her hand from his shoulder.

Harry ran both of his hands through his raven-black hair, a familiar sign of exasperation that Hermione had been accustomed to throughout the past year. He couldn't understand why she had to push him so hard to tell her everything. She could never understand what he had been through... she could never understand the things he had seen.

"What do you want to hear Hermione! That I'm screwed up and you're the only good thing in my life, huh?" shouted Harry desperately. "Is that it!"

Hermione looked at the floor, her eyes brimming with tears. She had been in this situation so many times and each time it got more painful; getting Harry to open up to her was like getting blood out of a stone.

"Ok," conceded Hermione, "I... I guess you don't want to talk about it, fine."

"No, I don't," replied Harry abruptly.

Hermione moved herself closer to Harry who was still sitting on the edge of the bed. She pulled the bed sheets around her and once more placed her hand on his shoulder, her head leaning on his back.

"I'm just worried about you," she added, planting a soft kiss on the nape of his neck.

"Well there's no need for you to be" he retorted suddenly, his face turned towards her with an angry expression in his usually vacant eyes.

The look in Harry's eyes silenced Hermione, she knew better than to push him too hard. No matter how much she searched her lover's face for some semblance of emotion, she always found nothing. Since the death of Voldemort he had changed dramatically - neither words nor physical affection could reach him.

Hermione felt helpless and responded in the only way she really knew how. She brought herself so she was sitting next to Harry on the edge of the bed, bed sheets still wrapped around her fragile frame. She brought one of her hands up to his face, gently turning it towards her. His eyes looked down, avoiding her eye contact; deep down inside she could almost feel him trying to pull away from her touch. Slowly, she brought his face closer to her own and planted a gentle kiss on his soft lips. Her hands rested upon his face yet as the kiss deepened Harry pulled away.

"What's wrong?" questioned Hermione, a slight frown creasing her usually smooth brow.

She searched his eyes for an answer but they would not give one up.

"Just... don't," responded Harry - his voice a mere whisper.

Hermione slowly withdrew her hands from his face and crossed them in her lap. Harry turned away from her and focused his attention back on the photo. The seconds that passed between the two of them was excruciating; only the ticking of a clock broke the silence until Hermione asked the question she had been dreading to ask for the past year.

"Harry, I need to ask you something," she whispered. Dewy tears clung to her dark eyelashes as she fought against the urge to cry.

"Can't it wait?" came the emotionless reply.

"No it can't," replied Hermione, her voice also relegated to no more than a whisper. "Harry, do... do you still love me?"

Harry's green eyes met her own and held her gaze as a moment of silence passed between them.

"Well?" she pleaded.

Harry gingerly reached for her hand and gently placed it on his own cheek. Hermione felt her heart lurch in her chest as he leaned in towards her.

This is what she wants.

He placed a kiss on her parted lips, gently at first, but then more tenderly. However the moment was brief...

Rising from the bed, he walked towards the wardrobe and grabbed his day robes. Without even looking behind him he left the room and closed the door. Hermione brought a hand up to her lips and closed her eyes, finally allowing her tears free passage down her pale cheeks. The kiss meant nothing to him; she meant nothing to him... her question was answered.

A/N: I'm starting this fic back up again and this is a rewrite, well, more of a tweak of Chapter 1. There were a good few grammatical errors that needed to be sorted, doubt I've picked them all out though. Also Im going to give this fic an AU tag due to the events that transpired in HBP. Hope you enjoyed it and keep on reading.