Summery: Harry Potter defeats Voldemort. He 'puts on a face' to make everybody happy. After all- he just defeated Voldemort... why shouldn't he be happy? Someone comes across the 'journal' that he writes/wrote in. They end up reading a very horrific tale of how he defeated him and what he went through to defeat him: feelings, thoughts, actions, usages, ect...

Harry Potter slumped down next to the bathtub. He only had a few moments before people would become suspicious of where he went. He buried his hands in his face. He sighed and bit down on his hand before running it through his hair. Bringing his hands back to his face, he felt something warm upon his hands. He looked down. He wretched into the toilet upon seeing the blood. He had see far too much blood when he-

"Harry?" his name being called brought him back to reality.

"Hmm?" he wondered aloud.

"Are you alright?" asked a familiar voice.

"Fine. Just taking a moment to myself."

"In the bathroom?"

He could help but let a slight chuckle out. "Yes, I know. How strange. Anywhere else, though, and people would just keep on congratulating me. I just needed a moment," he said, opening the door to a bushy, brown hair girl of roughly seventeen years of age.

"Are you sure you're all right?" she asked again.

He smiled down on her. "Yes, I'm sure. Now, let's get back before they send a whole search party to look for me," he joked.

"Harry, that's not funny," she said with a tone or seriousness.

"Yes," he answered with a weak smile, "I know it's not funny. But really? What took you guys three days to find me?"

She looked up with a grim smile upon her lips. "No one ever told you?" Harry frowned upon hearing this. He replied a shaky no.

Hermione sighed. "This wasn't supposed to be this way..." she trailed off. "Come on, I think we need to have a talk with Dumbledore." Dumbledore was one of the lone survivors that Harry did not consider family.

"No," he said and tugged on Hermione to get her to stop, "let's go back to the party and we can ask him later."

She looked upon him with a grim expression. "Are you sure?"

"Yes. I don't want to worry Mum... she doesn't need anymore of that." The year before Harry started his seventh and final year at Hogwarts, the Weasley Family finally officially adopted Harry; Remus was Harry's god-father.

And yes, I hate to admit it, but Remus was Harry's god-father. Now, Harry didn't have a god-father. He'd gone through two of them, keeping both of them barley two years. Remus Lupin had died while fighting of the Death Eaters in The Final Battle.

"There you are," said Molly, "we were starting to get really worried over here. We were about to send-"

Hermione shook her head franticly, looking like, 'this is not a good time'. Molly only nodded in acknowledgement. "Well, come on then! Mustn't keep the guests waiting, now would we?"

Harry shrugged at Hermione and left with Molly. He scrunched up his face before finally setting off into the magically enlarged laving room of Potter Manor he had accumulated on his 18th birthday.

Upon entering once again, he say that they partygoers had change the décor once more. A new banner now strung across the ceiling saying, "CONGRATS ON DEFEATING HE-WHO-MUST-NOT-BE-NAME" which then flashed to, "HARRY POTTER, THE BOY-WHO-LIVED-TWICE."

Harry brought his hands up in frustration; bring the banner down along when he brought his hands down. With his needing to defeat Voldemort, Harry had taught himself wandless magic, as no one else was able to do anything. He often got visited by some well-known teachers (Godric Gryffindor and Merlin, for example) while he was unconscious for some unknown reasons.

Everybody vocally voiced his or her displeasure until someone was smart enough to put it back up. Harry shot that person an evil glare before bringing it down in flame. People screamed to get out of the way. He looked at them like they were crazy before finally saying, "What? You think that I'd actually let you get hurt? All that the fire did was scorch the paper. No more fire... look."

People looked up and say nothing more. Then, Ron walked up besides Harry. "What was that for, mate? Not gonna let people have their fun?"

"Ha-bloody-ha, Ron. They can have their fun, sure! But preferably not 'congrats on defeating 'he-who-must-not-be-named''. I mean, they can't even say his name and he's gone for good! Oh, yes! And then, 'Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived-Twice'! How original."

"How's Luna?" he asked, changing the subject.

He grinned while answering, "good! She's in her fourth month already. We've already decided on Harry if it's a boy and Luna says Harrietta if it's a girl, but I said no. Didn't think you'd appreciate that, mate."

Harry just groaned. "Harrietta? Oh my, I feel sorry for whoever's gonna be called that. Surely enough people are going to name their kids after me... just like you and Luna."

"Hey," he mock hurt, "we were gonna name him Harry even if you weren't the boy who lived."

Harry laughed. "You know what Moldy-Wart called me?" he asked.

Ron shook his head. "Nope. Never told me that one."

Harry laughed again. "When we were dueling before, he said, 'God, Potter. They should call you the Bloody-Boy-Who-Won't-Die'."

Ron smirked. "Well, that can we arranged." With a wave of Ron's wand, a new banner in blood red and silver (Gryffindor and Slytherin) said, "HARRY POTTER, the BLOODY-BOY-WHO-WON'T-DIE".

"Ron," said Harry.

"Huh?"

"You know, for that... I'm gonna have ta hurt you."

Ron gulped. He gulped and then ran; ran for his own life.

Harry just laughed and turned to talk to someone he didn't even know.

((Time-Lapse))

Harry slumped down on the couch around six am. They had just been able to get rid of all the people who wouldn't be spending the night: The Weasley's, Luna, Hermione, and Harry himself.

Soon Harry felt the couch dip down. He opened a weary eye-lid to see Hermione. She looked up. "Who made that banner?" she laughed.

"Ron did. I told him about Moldy-wart calling me the 'Bloody-Boy-Who-Won't-Die', so he decided to put up the banner." She laughed once again.

Harry closed his eyes once again. Hermione then looked down at Harry. "Harry?" she prodded.

He opened a single eye again. "Hmm?"

"You really should get to bed, Harry. Sleeping on the couch is not a good idea."

He looked up at her again. Then he sighed. "No, I guess not, but I don't think I can make it all they way up to my bedroom. Help me then stay with me 'till I fall asleep?" he asked.

Hermione smiled. "No problem, love."

Nobody knew when or how, but one day it seemed that Harry and Hermione were finally going out together. All anybody could think was, "about bloody time, too," and welcomed their newfound relationship.

Hermione helped pull Harry to his feet where she proceeded to put an arm around his waist and his arm snaked its way around her shoulders. Somehow, they made it up two flights of stair to the master bedroom, which was now Harry's.

Harry lay down. Hermione sat herself at the edge of the bed, right next to him. She ran her hand through his hair before finally declaring him asleep after only minutes. Getting up to go lay down next to him, she spotted a book open to the first page on his nightstand.

My Journal

Property

of

Harry James Potter

Hermione couldn't stop herself so she took the journal and sat down next to Harry. She started to read entry number one, August First, 1996.