A/N: Hello. I recently got back into Harry Potter and after reading my one Harry Potter fic I had written, i was left dissatisfied. It was a good plot and aside from a lot of spelling errors I felt it was a good story. But I feel like I could do much better. So I've been rewriting it. Its now more flushed out, is longer, fills in a few plot holes i had found etc. I had literally just posted the first chapter yesterday but I really never liked the title so I deleted it and am re-posting now. I'm fairly half way through rewriting so updates will most likely be quick. Please review if you can and I hope you like this updated version.

Chapter 1: Chapter 1

Harry was falling apart.

He knew it was happening. He could feel himself slipping away piece by piece, and as hard as he tried, he really didn't know how much longer he could keep himself together. Harry could feel his mind slipping away into the dark recesses of his mind, trapping him in a never-ending loop of memories and feelings of the world falling apart and everyone he ever loved slipping through his fingers. He knew that the others around him knew it too, knew that he was falling away from them with each passing day. He could tell by their glances and their attempts at reassuring touches, silently letting him know that they too knew that they were there for him, that he was not alone.

It took all his will power not to cringe and shy away from their comforting touches, to not tell them to stop because their fingers felt as if they left burns upon his skin. He couldn't bring himself to do that to them as he knew the touches were as much for themselves as they were for him. Needing to feel that they were real, and Harry was as well. That they had both made it out alive. Harry couldn't take that away from them. As much as he felt as if he were drowning in the middle of the ocean, he couldn't deny giving his loved ones the bit of comfort they requested of him.

But he felt so cold and alone. It seemed everyone around him, while still suffering the aftereffects of the war with sadness and pain, were still able to show joy and happiness. They were able to reach out to each other, thankful, grateful, and so happy that the other was alive even if they were not completely whole.

Harry was different. He couldn't reach out to them. They were there but he couldn't reach out to them, and he felt so alone as if there were a glass wall between them. He could see them, he could hear them, but he couldn't reach them. They tried to reach out to him, tried to pull him to them but Harry felt separated and isolated.

He had learned early from living with the Dursleys to not ask for help. To not ask for companionship. To not ask for love. Harry had learned very young that crying would only get you punished. That there was no comfort for him when he needed it. The Dursley's had made it very clear to him that he was not worthy or deserving of love and compassion, and though as he grew older, building his own family through friendships especially through his best friend Ron Weasley's family, he had learned to give and accept love, it didn't make it easier to request it. The fear of rejection always weighed heavily upon his heart. The Dursley's voices echoing his unworthiness filled his mind, stopping him from reaching out.

Though the long months on the run, camping out in the most desolate of places had been hard on the trio, Harry had felt their friendship grow. He felt closer to Ron and Hermione than to anybody he'd ever met. There wasn't a single thing Harry wouldn't have done for his first friends whose comfort he had taken readily through the dark months. But with their budding romance that started with a passionate kiss initiated by Hermione in the most inappropriate desperate place and time, Harry began to feel like a third wheel when they were all together. Neither Ron nor Hermione did anything to imply he was, but Harry, happy that his friends finally figured out what was right in front of them this whole time, felt as one all the same. He wanted his friends to be happy together. The three of them have had so much misery that he felt Ron and Hermione deserved their happiness. But he could tell easily that they weren't as happy as they should be, and he knew it was because of him.

He had tried, of course, to separate himself from them, to help with the cleanup of the war, to support the new government that was rebuilding, to support the families of those who had lost someone, but with each passing day Harry's heart sank further and further and his mind struggled to cope with the depths of the despair that was starting to eat him from the inside out. It felt as if a dementor had taken up residence inside of his body and he was unable to fight it.

It was with these dark thoughts echoing in his mind that Harry felt himself slip further and further away, unable to reach the surface any longer.

(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*

They watched as Harry sat, curled up in a tiny ball on a comfortable worn out chair by the back window, out of the way at The Burrow, his best friend's Ron's house. It was warm and beautiful outside, the chill of spring that seemed to have lingered till mid-July that year finally gave way to summer. The sun shining through the window warmed his pale skin and brightened his green eyes, making them gleam like jewels. Birds chirped and flew around the trees while bees buzzed in the garden. Flowers bloomed across the property and the air smelled sweet with their fragrance.

But Harry Potter seemed to not notice any of this, seemingly trapped in his own thoughts. A habit that anyone who's spent any time with him since the end of the war, would realize he did more and more of. He saw nothing before him or around him, not even that Ron and Hermione had left their places on the sofa near him where they would watch him closely, lost his own thoughts to walk outside. They walked far enough away from the window that harry sat at to see him if he moves but not so close as for him to hear their conversation.

Hermione stood near Ron with her arms folded over her chest, nibbling on her lower lip as she was prone to do when concentrating or worried. She was watching Ron as he kicked the rocks on the ground in front of him absently, seeing the tension that was in his body. Every few seconds he would quickly glance at the window to be sure Harry hadn't moved yet.

"Ron," She started, not sure how to begin They were both worried about Harry, and both felt helpless on what to do.

"We have to help him Hermione" Ron said, still not looking at her. He picked up the rock he had been playing with and started examining. "He's being broodier than normal."

Hermione rolled her eyes. Trust Ron to try to downplay the situation. Though she knew he was aware there was a bigger problem with his friend than just being moody. She had seen how Ron would watch his best friend, afraid to take his eyes off him in case Harry suddenly disappeared. Harry always seemed resilient to the horrible things that happened to him, but both Ron and Hermione knew it was an act he put on. They had seen the truth in Harry, seen the consequences of the pain he suffered quietly. The trio had never openly spoken about it, Harry always somehow able to pull himself back up, but it didn't look like that would be happening this time as it scared Hermione to the bone.

"I think it's more than that and you're right. But the question is what it is." She glanced again at the window; he was still there. She felt her heart flutter in relief as it always seemed to do.

"I don't even know what the problem is. The war is over, Voldemort's dead. People are starting to live their lives again. They are picking up the pieces of their lives and reconnecting with those they have lost track of. They can walk down the street now without too much fear of being bloody blown up! How could he be so moody over that?" Ron grumbled.

"I think there's a lot more going on than him just being moody Ron" Hermione said exasperated.

"I'm sure there is but he's bringing everyone down" Hermione turned away from Ron in annoyance at his lack of feelings and understanding. She watched Ron from the corner of her eye glance at the window and give a soft sigh at seeing Harry was still there staring in to space. "I just don't know what to do." He confessed softly.

"We should try talking to him again, maybe if he opens up..."

"Yeah right. We've tried that. Many times, over the years. Harry's as likely to open up about his feelings then of Malfoy dancing in a tutu in the Great Hall."

"I know that, Ronald." She said exasperated. "We can try to get Ginny to talk to him again. Maybe she'll have better luck"

Ron looked around the yard as if looking for his younger sister. Neither of them had seen much of her this summer as her mother had taken to tutoring Ginny most of the day to catch her up with her studies. The past year at school had been disastrous, to say the least, and Mrs. Weasley was afraid Ginny was behind and wouldn't pass her NEWTS next year.

"He's been ignoring her too you know." Ron told her. "He doesn't respond to anybody. We had to quite literally drag his ass out of bed this morning in case you forgot. He's still sitting there in his nightclothes." He gestured towards the window.

Hermione followed his arm and glanced at it expecting to see Harry still staring vacantly out the window. Her eyes widened and her heart skipped several beats as she saw the now empty window.

"Ron...he's gone, He's not there." She said panicked. Ron looked towards the window as well and sprang into action running towards the door, Hermione right behind him. He barged in the front door, causing his mother to jump and drop the pot of tea she was holding in her hands.

"What in Merlin's name are you doing running in the house like that." She shouted at them as they ran past.

"Harry?" Ron shouted, ignoring his mother's protests. He looked around the tiny living room, grabbing the blanket off the floor that had been placed in his friend's lap. Hermione felt panic rise inside her as she backed away a bit and shouted up the stairs for him. Ron dropped the blanket on the chair and sprinted up the stairs, Hermione hot on his heels as they shouted his name.

They were up the landing by Ginny's room when she popped her head out her door with an angry expression on her face.

"Ginny, have you seen harry?" Hermione asked her, out of breath. Ginny just glared further at them.

"Yes, he's in here now please stop shouting" She spat quietly and slammed the door in their faces. Ron took a step forward to barge into the room, but Hermione grabbed his arm to hold him back.

"Can you believe that? Shouting at me and keeping my friend from me" His face was getting redder as he got angrier, no longer panicked that his friend was missing. Hermione dragged Ron back down the stairs to the living room. Mrs. Weasley was at the bottom of the stairs looking as angry and annoyed as both Ron and Ginny.

"Care to explain what is going on here?" She said in that deathly calm she seemed to have perfected over the years, though a closer look at her weathered features showed concern as well. The matron of the family was clearly as worried about Harry as the rest of them.

"It's nothing, Mrs. Weasley, we were just looking for Harry. We had something to tell him but he's busy. Sorry about scaring you." Hermione smoothed over, still dragging Ron to the couch. Mrs. Weasley looked suspiciously at both of them, obviously not buying their excuse but left it at that and went back to the kitchen.

Hermione shoved Ron on the couch then plopped down next to him and grabbed his hand in hers. He looked indulgent at being handled in such a matter but gave her hand a soft squeeze anyways.

"What the hell are you doing? Why are you dragging me around instead of barging in there and rescuing him?" He said quietly, sitting back heavily.

"Rescuing him? We were just talking about getting Ginny to talk to him so I don't see why we should rescue him from her." Hermione pointed out.

"I know I know" Ron said. He sat forward again and put his face in hands. Hermione rubbed his back comfortably. It has been a long few months for all of them. Hardest on them being Harry's best friends.

After the war ended at the beginning of May everyone was so ecstatic and joyful, happy to survive the most horrible war in centuries. The battle at Hogwarts being the defining battle horrified the entire wizarding world. Hogwarts was a symbol to all witches and wizards in England. Every single one of them had spent 7 years living in the castle, learning, and living. It was not only their home, but it was their parents' homes, and their children's home. It was a beacon of growing and discovery. But the final battle there felt sacrilege. As if it tainted the grounds. There was such an outcry that so many had come together to clean up the damage that the school was slated to be reopened in time for school in September.

Through the outrage though there was also relief and joy that it was finally over, and once again Harry Potter was the Hero of the Wizarding World. In addition to nicknames such as "The Boy Who Lived" and "The Chosen One" people started calling him "The Man Who Conquered" or some such nonsense.

It was well known by now, told by those who had witnessed the final confrontation between Voldemort and Harry Potter that The Boy Who Lived had gone to die willingly for every man, woman, and child in the wizarding world. That Harry had sacrificed himself so neither Voldemort nor his followers could ever harm a single person ever again.

Everyone wanted Harry. And surprisingly Harry obliged. Well. a little. Kingsly Shacklebolt was named interim Minster of Magic. And while Harry cared little about the Ministry, or really much of the Wizarding population as a whole due to their frequent crucifying of him, he did quite like Kingsley and did him the favor of helping him. Even Harry understood the importance of getting the ministry back up and running, even if he did not particularly like it. He could be seen multiple times a day going in and out of the ministry, doing several press conferences with Kingsly, helping to organize aid to those who need it.

But while the Wizarding world celebrated the victory and praised his name, those closest to him could see it was starting to take its toll. It started subtly. Harry smiled shyly, shook hands, and attended all sorts of public events, interviews and even to his greatest disgust, photoshoots. He had been a good sport through it all and people just could not get enough of him. And Ron and Hermione were there by his side the whole time. It had surprised Hermione how much Ron had detested the attention, considering his past views but seeing his disgust and his protection of Harry had made her fall even more for him.

But after a few weeks of if Harry seemed to stop trying to falsely smile, he stopped answering so many questions, and he started denying requests to see him. While unnoticed by the outside world, those closest to him could tell it was starting to take a toll on him and something was off. But even they were too excited about their freedom to pay too much attention. Most believed it was just stress from the publicity being required of him as well as the grief of those who have fallen. The loss of many close to Harry was known, most notably Remus, Tonks, and Fred. Harry had had a stressful year hunting down Horcruxes, being on the run from the world, spending the year being the most hunted wizard in history.

Everyone believed he would snap out of it. That once things got back to normal for him Harry Potter would snap out of whatever he was feeling and be the hero the wizarding world wanted.

Ron and Hermione were at the beginning of their relationship. Enjoying each other and relishing all that they had missed in the past by being stupid and could have missed if things had gone the wrong way. They were both pleased to see that Harry and Ginny had gotten back together but were slightly concerned that it was in a much toned-down capacity.

Hermione had known how much Harry had missed Ginny while searching for the horcruxes. She knew he would stare at her name on the map when he didn't think anyone was watching, she knew he had dreams about her, sometimes sighing out her name in his sleep.

But now they didn't have the same passion as they had during the time, they were together at school. They held each other, talked softly to each other, snuck kisses when they felt nobody was watching. It had felt very intimate and private and those around them would turn away or avert their eyes whenever it happened.

A month after the war ended Harry had effectively ended all requests, and after a practical mob scene in Diagon Ally while visiting Weasleys Wizarding Wheezes, had shut himself up at the Burrow. He didn't leave the house at all, not even just to go into the garden or taking a walk. No matter how hard the others pushed him to go out he wouldn't budge.

By the first week of July Harry had decided that it was time for him to move on, and he left to stay at Grimmauld Place. Ron and Hermione felt this was a bad idea. Harry still had frequent nightmares, ones that were so bad enough that Harry started doing everything he could to not sleep and just stay awake. Ron would stay up with him most nights, trying to coax his friend to lie down with little success. He would only sleep for a couple hours a night before waking up in a sweat.

They were also worried about Harry's lack of care for himself. Their friend had always been small and skinny. It was no real secret that he had spent most of his youth before Hogwarts malnourished. As time passed Harry frequently skipped meals and would not care about basic hygiene and he would just sit and stare into space.

He was becoming increasingly reclusive and while the 9 months on the run had reduced all their sizes, harry was the slimmest, to the point of concern. He no longer wore his cousins' baggy clothes, finally getting some that fit him a few years previous, but you wouldn't be able to tell they were his own by how they hung off his body. Ron hated to see the frustration on his mother's face as she tried to force weight on his friend. But despite all their protest, however, Harry had moved out to Grimmauld, alone, and requested they give him space.

Three agonizing weeks followed his move where they heard no word or saw any sign of Harry. They would send owl upon owl to him. The letters never came back, which was a slight comfort but neither did the owls return with any response from Harry. Mrs. Weasley was beside herself with worry but kept a strong front for the others.

"If Harry wishes to be alone" She had said one sunny afternoon while serving lunch. "Then we shall respect that and leave him alone." Ron, Hermione, and Ginny were talking about storming over to Grimmauld place to be sure he's alright. It was plain to see upon her face that she did not agree with her own statement but the three had quieted down about it, not wanting to put more strain on her.

Percy, who stopped by for lunch that day had fully agreed with her, stating "Harry is more than capable of caring for himself as you very well know. You should let him be and stop bothering him" he told them pompously.

Ron's face immediately contorted in rage at that statement. He was about to punch Percy in the face when Mrs. Weasley stepped in between them, telling Ron to sit down and eat his lunch. He sat down and Hermione immediately took his arm, holding on to it to prevent him from rising again.

"Bothering him? We're his friends, you great git. But of course, you don't know anything about that do you." Ginny retorted angrily, slipping away as Hermione made to grab for her arm as well.

"Friends? is that what you call what you do Ginevra?" Percy said putting down his fork. "If you listen to what they say at the Ministry you smother him and treat him like a possession."

"Percy, that's enough" Mrs. Weasley cut in, putting another handful of chips on Ron's plate. Percy quieted down and took another bite, ignoring the glares from the other side of the table.

"And of course, you don't bother to stand up for your sister, do you?" Ron spat at him.

"Of course, I do. My reputation is at stake just as much as hers. Though it's difficult to maintain when all she wants to do is go over to his house and have another toss with him. She acts no better than a common whore." Percy knew he had gone too far with the loud clangs of silverware hitting plates.

Ginny just sat there wide eyed at Percy, shocked that he would say such a thing. Ron, however, was the first to recover, turning redder than he'd been in his life. He stood up, towering over Percy.

"You no good piece of sh..."

"Out!" Mrs. Weasley shouted. They all turned to look at her. Her face was contorted with rage and her body was visibly shaking slightly.

"Mother...really"

"No, out! I want you out of my house and I want you out NOW."

"I don't see what the problem is mother, I only meant..."

"I don't care what you meant. I want you out of my house now. How dare you come in here and call your sister a common whore. Why I never, in all my life...OUT!"

Percy scrambled up as fast as he could, very undignified and grabbed his stuff on his way out. Nobody had heard from Percy since but according to Mr. Weasley, Percy had shown up to work with blisters all over his face that popped smell of troll feet. Nobody knew what had happened, and he wasn't telling, but everyone suspected George had something to do with it.

After that conversation, however, Mrs. Weasley also became increasingly concerned about Harry's wellbeing. But instead of marching over there at that moment to be sure he was alright, although she really had to fight the urge to, she was a mother of seven and knew a better way.

She planned a great birthday for Harry, whose birthday would be at the end of the week. While the others didn't want to wait to see him, she had convinced them to at least wait till then. It was to be a small affair, just immediate family, and close friends only. The Daily Prophet had come hounding at their door requesting an invite or at least photos, only to be chased away by some fireworks that followed them down the path Ginny had let off.

The days seemed to crawl but at last the day to retrieve Harry had come. They had, of course, sent him several owls informing him of the party, and with no response they decided it would be best to just show up at his house to get him, afraid he may just not show up at all.

After much arguing It was decided that Ron and Hermione would go alone to retrieve him. They got ready to go by mid-morning, held hands, and apparated to Grimmauld Place. Hermione couldn't help the excitement she felt at finally seeing Harry again. Whenever they were apart, she couldn't help the tightening feeling in her stomach that something was terribly wrong. Being separated from him all this time after being together so long has been a real strain on both Ron and Hermione.

Ron practically had to hold Hermione back from running into the place and snatching up Harry. Though it did take some effort on his part as he was just as excited to see him as well. But as they apparated to the front step and opened the door, a sinking feeling fell in the pit of their stomachs.

The house was dark and dusty, looking unlived in. Despite the heat of the summer outside it was freezing cold in the hallway. Cautiously they walked through the hall and up the stairs, looking into rooms as they passed to see if Harry was lurking in one. But the house seemed empty and unlived in. That was until they stepped to the third floor and entered the drawing room. The two of them paused in the doorway and they looked around the room.

It was a giant mess. Books had been strewn across the place, thrown from the bookcases with pages ripped out from them, furniture toppled, broken, the faded inky Greybull fabric wallpaper was sliced up and dangling from the wall. Glass littered the floor from broken trinkets that were either thrown or exploded, and the light fixture blinked erratically, half torn from its hinges.

And there sat Harry on the floor in front of the toppled couch, head resting on his arm on the coffee table in front of him. Or at least Ron thought it was Harry, it was hard to tell from the pile of black stringy hair sticking up from the table, his face hidden.

Hermione ran over to him, tripping on objects in her way. She was afraid to touch him once she drew near, falling on her knees next to him, afraid of what she'd find. She leaned near him and reached out short of touching him. She could feel the tears welling up in her eyes at the little be of view she had of him. He hadn't moved since they came in. She didn't even know if he was breathing.

"Harry?" She whispered. Ron stepped up behind her and crouched down next to her, his face grim. "Harry?" she choked out, still afraid to touch him. Ron reached his hand out slowly, and gently grasped Harry's shoulder. The mop of black hair moved slightly at the touch, a soft groan emitting from him.

"Harry, mate. It's Ron." Ron said. He got down on his knees and crawled closer
to Harry. He ran his hands slowly through Harry's hair. It felt dirty, and greasy. He would bet a galleon that it hadn't been washed since he got here. He dragged his hand Harry's hair to his cheek, frowning deeply at how cold his skin felt.

"Harry, wake up, please" Hermione sobbed. She too crawled closer. She wrapped her arms around him, and he stirred. He turned his face towards them, and she gasped.

The dark circles around his eyes were so dark and so big they looked like great black eyes. His face was entirely pale and extremely thin. his eyes dull and lifeless. The tears flowed freely from Hermione's eyes now as she grabbed on to Harry and held him to her, holding him as tightly as she dared.

Ron stood up and looked around. Trying to avoid looking at Harry, trying to hold himself together. He felt anger at Harry for putting himself in this position. He was angry his friend had such little regard for himself that he just left to live like this. 'Or not live.' Ron's mind supplied him, making Ron feel anger at himself for not stopping it.

Harry didn't have a choice then; Ron and Hermione forced him back to the Burrow where the gathered friends and family had gathered for his birthday. The party was already in full swing, though subdued with all the worry that festered in the family. The whole Weasley clan was there, minus Percy, along with Neville and Luna and a few other school friends. Kingsley was there, off duty of course to celebrate. The assembled group sat outside in the sun, trying to hold off the festering panic they were starting to feel at how long it'd taken Ron and Hermione to come back.

After an hour of waiting and George threatening to go see what was taking so long, a sudden clack echoed through the property and right outside the wards was Ron and Hermione half carrying half dragging an out of it Harry Potter. Everyone went silent as the trio passed them without acknowledgement and went into the house. Ginny turned to follow but was held back by George at the behest of their father who followed Molly.

Ron had taken him immediately up to his room. While Harry had his own room there, in the form of Percy's old room, he was not about to let Harry out of his sight. Ron had laid him down on the camp bed that was permanently in his room for Harry, and with Hermione, they wrapped him tightly in several blankets to keep him warm. They could tell he was exhausted but was fighting sleep. Mrs. Weasley left them for a few short moments before coming back with a potion for dreamless sleep, forcing it down his throat, Harry was asleep in seconds.

This went on over the course of the next few days. With the help of his brother Ron was able to get Harry into the shower and cleaned. He appeared a little better after a few nights' sleep but in general Harry was unresponsive.

Neither Ron nor Hermione allowed him out of their sight for long. Panicking when he wasn't in view. Harry, for the most part, didn't seem to be getting better. He had gained a little bit of weight due to being forced to sit at meals with the family, though eating little. He would sit there in his chair staring off into space rocking back and forth between the few bites they could force on him. It was unnerving to Ron who would try to joke with Harry that he was scaring him, though it was really the truth.

Ginny took to spending as much time with him as possible, which was limited due to her mother's insistence that she tutor her to keep her up in school. Her time with Harry was mostly spent just sitting there, either holding his hand or sitting on the couch stroking his hair while he lay his head on her lap while she read, Ron and Hermione of course always near.

Harry hadn't said a word since they brought him back. He had always been a mostly silent character, but it was unnerving at times when they talked to him. He didn't even acknowledge they were talking to him, or even around in general. Everyone was at a loss for what to do.

There had been talk about putting him in St. Mungo's to get help, but it was always quickly vetoed. Nobody could stomach the idea of locking Harry away even if it was for his own good. The first time it had been suggested was just days after Harry had been retrieved from Grimmauld Place. Ron had reacted so violently against the suggestion that he had locked himself and Harry up in his room, not allowing anyone in for almost a day. Eventually Hermione was able to get him to open up and let her in, if only under the pretense of checking on Harry.

"I'll take him away from here before I let them lock him up." He had confessed to her as they watched Harry sleep that night. Hermione didn't argue with him on it. Being the logical person she was she knew St Mungo's would be the best place for Harry. He would be watched there, he would get the help he clearly needed, however locking him up also made her feel sick, made her feel no better than the Dursleys who she knew had locked him in a tiny cupboard for years.

But now as they sat on the sofa and she held Ron close to keep him from bolting back up to Ginny's room demanding Harry back, she was second guessing her decision and thinking how she could convince him it was the right course to take.

"I just don't know what to do" Ron said helplessly, sitting back on the sofa again, breaking Hermione out of her thoughts. She pulled her hand out from behind him and leaned in close to him, resting her head on his chest.

"Me neither, but we are going to lose him if we don't try something soon." She said softly. They sat there like that for a while, thinking of their friend Harry.