Harry held the open letter in his hands.

Dear Mr. Potter,

I hope this letter finds you in peace after all the terrible events we have witnessed. The wizarding world still feels the wounds of the Second Wizarding War, and we are all doing our part to rebuild what was lost.

I am sure you must be deep in thought about your future. What will you do now that you have defeated your nemesis? What does the world expect from Harry Potter?

Though I cannot answer these questions for you, I can assure you that you will always find a home at Hogwarts. The world may know you as 'the boy who lived' or, now, as the saviour of the wizarding world, but to me, you will always be young Potter, the student I had the pleasure of watching grow and mature with time.

The student who constantly got into trouble trying to help others. And I would hate to see you step into adult life without properly completing your education.

That is why, Mr. Potter, I would like to invite you to return to Hogwarts to finish your schooling.

The school has been rebuilt with the help of our sister institutions, Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, which sent us books to replace the ones we lost in the library, as well as construction materials. Many witches and wizards have offered their efforts to raise Hogwarts again, and I believe the school needs all of its students in order to begin anew.

Many have lost friends, brothers, sisters, cousins during the Battle of Hogwarts. But true strength lies in how we move forward. The lives of our fallen companions take on the meaning we choose to give them.

With the Minister's permission, we were able to reopen Hogwarts already this year. Classes will begin on the 2nd of August. I know it seems soon, but I wanted all who fought to have the opportunity to graduate and to visit the memorial we've built in honour of those we lost.

I hope to see you at school this year, Harry. Hogwarts would not be the same without you, Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger. We would be lost without our golden trio.

With affection,
Minerva McGonagall
Headmistress of Hogwarts

Harry read the letter aloud. Without realising it, his eyes had filled slightly with emotion. Going back to Hogwarts after everything? Was student life really something to be forgotten and left behind? What would Hogwarts be like now? Had the décor changed? And what about Hagrid? It had been quite some time since Harry last heard from his friend.

All these thoughts flooded his mind like a storm.

"Are you alright, Harry?" asked Hermione, looking at him with concern. He seemed lost in time.

"Yeah, I'm alright," Harry replied, blinking hard to push back the tears. "That's quite the letter, Hermione. How long have you known Hogwarts would reopen?"

"A few weeks. I've been in touch with Headmistress Minerva to find out what would happen with the rest of the school year, you know? Even after saving the world, I still want to graduate," Hermione said with a small laugh.

"There's the Hermione Granger I know..." said Ron, laughing. "Even when the world's completely upside down, she's still thinking about school."

He then opened his envelope and started reading quickly.

"'Mr. Weasley'? Sounds like I'm an old man... or worse, Percy," Ron pulled a face as he imagined himself in Ministry robes. "Now that would be a nightmare."

The three friends laughed loudly at Ron's joke. Everything felt lighter when they were together, as if, for a moment, the world outside no longer existed.

"So... have you thought about it? Are you going to accept?" asked Hermione, straightening in her chair with eyes shining in anticipation. "I don't want to pressure anyone, but I'm going!" she said firmly, slapping her fist into the palm of her other hand in a determined gesture. "And if you two are smart, you'll go too. I want to see both of you graduating properly and sitting your NEWTs!"

"Oh, Hermione, don't start," Ron grumbled, tossing the letter onto the table with disdain. "We're the heroes of the wizarding world now, remember? Everything we did with Harry... People love us! We don't even need a diploma. I bet if I asked for a job at the Ministry, Kingsley would hire me on the spot. And if money gets tight, I can just sell an interview to the Daily Prophet. I bet they'd pay well!"

"Always with the brilliant ideas, aren't you, Ron?" Hermione shot back, crossing her arms. "And how long do you think that fame will last? Are you planning to live off the past until you're old, sitting on a couch bragging about what you did when you were seventeen? No qualifications, no plan?"

"Merlin, Hermione... you're starting to sound like my mum," Ron said, rolling his eyes with a cheeky smile.

"Maybe you should listen to your mother more, Ronald Weasley!" Hermione replied, her cheeks flushed with anger.

Seeing the tension rise, Harry thought it best to step in.

"Hey, you two, take it easy," he said with a peacekeeping smile. "Ron's just teasing, like always. You know how he is, Hermione. He jokes even about serious things... it's basically a talent."

Hermione huffed but didn't reply. Ron shrugged, still laughing.

"But think about it, Ron," Harry continued, leaning back in his chair. "It's another year at Hogwarts. More Quidditch, more feasts in the Great Hall, more chances to beat Slytherin's points total. And let's be honest, it'll be nice to be there without Death Eaters in the corridors and a mortal threat every week, right?"

Ron raised an eyebrow, thoughtful.

"When you put it like that... And if there's pumpkin pie in the first week, I might even agree to take a test or two."

Hermione rolled her eyes, but couldn't help smiling.

"I'll take that 'maybe' as a provisional yes, Mr Weasley."

The three of them laughed. For the first time in a long while, the future felt possible.

"I think that's why Headmistress McGonagall asked me to deliver the letter in person, Harry," said Hermione gently. "Your presence there changes everything. You've kind of become a symbol. Just knowing you'll be at Hogwarts would reassure parents. It would show everyone that even the savior of the wizarding world still has something to learn. It would rekindle people's interest in the school. And with the increase in applications, the opposition would have no argument against reopening Hogwarts."

Harry lowered his head, his breathing growing heavier.

"You know I'm not a hero, Hermione… I… I'm a survivor. I don't wake up in the morning thinking the wizarding world owes me anything, or that I'm going to be the next to face a Dark wizard. I'm just Harry now. And I want to stay that way."

The words came out with difficulty, almost like a confession that had long needed to be spoken. His hands were trembling. He took off his glasses slowly and placed them on the table, they had begun to fog up from his shallow, strained breath.

Hermione stood up without a word and walked over to him. Gently, she took his hands in hers, squeezing them with care. That simple, silent gesture said more than any words could.

Even without his glasses, Harry could see Hermione clearly. The firelight danced through her brown hair, now longer and loose, revealing golden highlights beneath the warm glow. Her face was calm, but her deep, attentive eyes held a determined, affectionate glint that made Harry feel safe, as if, for a moment, everything was in its right place. The delicate arch of her eyebrows, the soft curve of her chin, and the way she looked at him… there was beauty there, but more than that, there was strength. A calm, steady, unshakable kind of beauty, the beauty of someone who never gives up on the people she loves.

"You don't have to be the savior of the world, Harry," she said, her voice low but steady. "What the Headmistress asked for… is exactly for Harry to go back to Hogwarts. The Harry who faces problems head-on, who fights for what's right, who reaches out even when he's exhausted."

She paused, squeezing his hands again.

"And what I need… is for you to do what your heart tells you to do. The Harry I know is strong, determined… and has always known how to handle this kind of situation."

Harry felt some of the tension in his shoulders melt away. He took a deep breath, letting her words settle.

"Thank you, Hermione. You… you always know what to say."

She smiled. A small smile, but a true one.

"That's why you both need me," she replied, casting a playful look toward Ron, who was pretending to wipe his eyes as if moved.

"Aww, how sweet… someone write this down, Hermione just saved the savior," said Ron with a sarcastic grin.

Harry and Hermione laughed together, and for a moment, the world felt a little lighter.

"Well… I hope you're feeling better, Harry," said Hermione, a hint of embarrassment in her voice. Maybe, if Ron hadn't been there, the moment would've turned out differently.

"Thanks, Hermione," said Harry as he reached for his glasses on the table and placed them back on his face. Then, he turned to Ron, who wore a curious expression, was it disgust… or jealousy?

"I'll go with you, Hermione. It'll be nice to have a more peaceful year at Hogwarts." Then Harry looked at Ron. "And I'd like to have you with us, Ron. Gryffindor needs its Keeper, I need my best friend… and, though Hermione hesitates to say it, she needs you too. Your sense of humor is going to be crucial when exam week rolls around."

"If you're going to insist like that, Harry…" Ron brought a hand to the back of his head, ruffling his red hair. He was flattered by his friend's words. Deep down, he had already made up his mind to return to Hogwarts, but he liked hearing from Harry himself how important he was. "You can count me in. But I'm warning you now, Hermione: if you don't help me with my N.E.W.T.s, I swear I'll haunt you for the rest of my life."

"No problem, Ron!" Hermione replied with a relieved expression. "To show my gratitude, you should know I've already prepared a small summary on advanced antidote preparation for potions and tonics. You can start studying right away."

Without missing a beat, Hermione pulled a large scroll from her bag, tied with a dark thread, and tossed it into Ron's arms.

"It's about time you started using that brain and reading a bit before bed."

"For Merlin's sake, what else does she have in that bag?" Ron said, turning to Harry with a stunned expression.

"With any luck, maybe there's an air mattress and a full breakfast in there for when you pass out from too much studying," Harry replied, laughing.

The laughter was interrupted by a strange noise coming from the kitchen. When they looked over, they saw a small creature near the cupboard. It was Kreacher. The house-elf of the old Black family, now in service to Harry Potter, still wore the locket of Regulus with pride, the same one Harry had given him. The amulet seemed to have an almost magical effect on him, making him more sociable and far less grumpy. Kreacher was carrying a tray carefully, walking slowly toward the trio.

"Kreacher thought he heard Master Harry Potter speaking with the Weasley boy," he muttered in his usual raspy voice, "but Kreacher also heard Miss Granger arrive. Kreacher knows how important the reunion of Master Potter's friends is."

"Kreacher!" exclaimed Hermione, smiling. "I'm glad to see you're doing well… and that you decided to stay."

"But of course," the elf replied with a faint grunt. "Kreacher shall serve Harry Potter as the heir to the House of Black. Kreacher came to inform the Weasley boy that it's time for the Muggle magic box."

"Magic box?" Ron frowned. "Oh, you mean the TV! Thanks, Kreacher. I always forget you call it that. And what do you have there?"

"The Weasley boy's favorite dessert," said Kreacher, lifting the lid of the tray with a certain pride. Three large bowls of homemade strawberry ice cream rested there, exuding a sweet and inviting aroma.

"Blimey! Harry, Kreacher is the best! If you ever get tired of him, hand him over, yeah?" said Ron, grabbing a bowl and digging in eagerly with a spoon. "Thanks, Kreacher, it's perfect!"

With his mouth slightly smeared with ice cream, Ron turned to his friends.

"Alright, Harry, Hermione… as much as I love chatting with you lot, it's time for that Muggle talent show on telly! So grab your ice cream and come watch with me. We can go back to talking about magic and Hogwarts later, yeah?"

Harry and Hermione exchanged a knowing look and smiled.

"Sounds good, Ron," said Harry, grabbing his ice cream. "Even heroes need a break to watch tone-deaf people trying to get famous."

Hermione laughed, shaking her head, already following the two into the living room.

And for a moment, like in the old days, everything felt normal.

The three friends spent the evening watching the talent show on TV. First, they were amazed by a woman who could imitate any sound, from the songs of exotic birds to the deep rumble of an old bus. Then, they laughed out loud at a man who rode a bicycle while balancing plates on his head. For Harry, who had only ever watched television in secret at the Dursleys' or while doing the dishes with the news playing in the background, it felt almost magical. A quiet, comforting experience… as if the world had given him a brief moment of peace.

By the end of the show, Ron had a full belly and was snoring softly on the couch. Seeing their friend asleep, Harry and Hermione got up and sat on the floor near the fireplace. Kreacher appeared silently, as if he somehow knew the conversation now required more calm. With a subtle bow, he served them tea and a few biscuits before vanishing again.

The TV was now showing the evening news, and Hermione, as usual, read a book while half-listening to the headlines. Harry simply watched the fire dance.

"What's the book about?" asked Harry, finishing his cup of tea.

"Ancient Runes," Hermione replied, marking her page before closing the book. "It's been a while since I studied them, and I've honestly forgotten a few symbols… So much has happened over the past few months."

She took a sip of tea, then looked away from the cup and met Harry's gaze with tenderness, yet firmness.

"And how are you? And don't give me some shallow answer like 'I'm fine, Hermione.' Of all the people I know, you'd have the most reason to feel discouraged… or even depressed."

Harry remained silent for a few seconds, staring into the bottom of his cup as if it held the answers he was still searching for. The sound of the news filled the room, but in that instant, everything seemed to go quiet.

"I don't know," he said finally, with honesty. "Some days I wake up feeling light, like maybe it really is over. But other days… it's like I'm still there. In the forest. On the battlefield. Stuck in the fear of losing you. Sometimes I think I should feel happier, more grateful, but… it's like part of me hasn't come back yet."

Hermione nodded silently, not breaking eye contact.

"It's okay to feel that way, Harry. You've been through more than any of us. You're not weak for feeling like this. You're human."

She reached out and gently touched his arm. The warmth of her hand grounded him, pulling him back to the present, telling him he didn't have to face it all alone.

"I don't know how to deal with it," he murmured.

"One step at a time," Hermione replied. "And if you fall, we'll pick you up. Like we always have."

Harry smiled, a small but genuine smile. And for a moment, sitting beside Hermione, with warm tea, half-eaten biscuits, and the soft murmur of the television in the background, he felt like maybe, just maybe, he was starting to come home.

Hermione glanced over at the couch, surprised, and said in a whisper, almost like sharing a secret:

"And by some miracle… Ron's stopped snoring. Must be magic."

A smile spread across Harry's face as he heard Hermione's joke.

"How are you, Hermione? I mean… what have you been up to and all that? Earlier, you mentioned the Daily Prophet interview, you became famous too."

"You have no idea how much," Hermione said, flipping a page in her book with a sigh. "Can you believe that all sorts of wizards have been sending invitations to my parents' house? Each more ridiculous than the last. 'We would be honoured to invite Miss Granger to our wedding in Scotland', or another one: 'I would love to sit down for a cup of tea with you, Miss Granger. A seventeen-year-old witch is of age to start thinking about marriage, and surely must be looking for a suitable candidate.'" Hermione picked up her teacup again and took a sip, trying to steady herself. "Each proposal more absurd than the other… can you believe even some pure-blood families suddenly want me in their lineage?"

"What? Marriage proposals?" Harry asked, shocked. "Well, I guess everyone wants to marry a heroine, don't they, Miss Granger?" he added teasingly.

Hermione gave him a playful pat on the shoulder.

"Harry! You know I find that absolutely revolting!" she said, her gaze turning serious.

"I know, Hermione, I know. I was only joking," Harry replied, raising his hands as if surrendering. "It's just that… it was kind of inevitable, wasn't it? You're smart, you're pretty… and now, finally, you're famous." A knot formed in Harry's throat as he said the words. Would she find it strange, him complimenting her like that?

"What I mean is, any man would want to get close to you, Hermione. You're… amazing, you know?" As he spoke, Harry shoved his hands into the pockets of his trousers. A part of him wished he could be anywhere else right now.

Hearing Harry's compliments, Hermione's cheeks flushed ever so slightly. Without realising, she had flipped a few pages ahead in her Ancient Runes book.

"Thank you, Harry…" Hermione couldn't quite meet his eyes, so she turned back to her book. It was easier to talk that way.

"The problem is, these people keep sending letters thinking I'll accept these ridiculous proposals. Empty invitations from people who want Hermione Granger in the family like I'm some sort of trophy to parade around. They think expensive gifts and promises of thousands of Galleons are going to win me over."

"Wait… you turned them all down?" asked Harry.

"Of course I did, Harry. You know me well enough to understand that gifts and money won't win my heart. And I'd never marry a complete stranger. A marriage arranged for power or politics is just… dreadful! I can't imagine being someone's wife when I don't even know the person."

Hermione found the courage to look back at Harry. He was staring intently at the television, pretending to follow the news.

"You must've gotten hundreds of letters too, I'm sure. Loads of girls want to date the saviour of the wizarding world," Hermione said, giving Harry a supportive pat on the back.

Harry smiled again at her gesture.

"Yeah, I got a few… but by the end of the first week, I asked Mr Weasley to shut down my mailbox and stop accepting anything. It was exhausting. I can barely sort out my own thoughts about the future… let alone think about marriage. In that sense, I really get you, Hermione."

"I'm glad you feel the same way, Harry," said Hermione. "Arranged marriages… it's such an outdated idea. But… was there really no girl pretty enough for Harry Potter's taste?" Hermione didn't know why she'd asked. The words were already out before she realised.

"It's not that," Harry replied, lowering his eyes to the floor. "You know me, Hermione. I've never had much luck with girls. Back at Hogwarts, every time I tried dating someone, it all ended in one word: disaster."

Hermione knew relationships were a sensitive topic for Harry. Deep down, she remembered his fifth-year relationship with Cho Chang had ended on rather bad terms. Thinking it over, she figured maybe it was best to steer the conversation in a different direction.

"You mentioned you couldn't think about the future. What exactly did you mean by that, Harry?" Hermione asked, moving closer and sitting side by side with him, their shoulders almost touching.

"It's just… everything's changed, you know? Some days, I still feel like the boy who used to sleep under the stairs. For years, the thought of going back to Hogwarts was the only thing keeping me sane. But I never stopped to think about what I'd do after everything was over." Harry looked up at the ceiling with a melancholic expression. "My biggest problem was Voldemort… and now that he's gone, it feels like Hogwarts went with him." He paused before continuing. "So what do I do now? Get a job at the Ministry? Just let life carry me wherever? Everything feels… disconnected."

"That's why we're here, Harry!" Hermione said, placing a supportive hand on his arm. "Even Ron… well, even if he's fast asleep right now," she added with a soft laugh, turning to see their friend snoring like a baby.

"I've been thinking about it too. The future isn't easy when you're this young, Harry. But that's why we lean on our family."

"But I don't have a family, Hermione," Harry said abruptly. The words had escaped his mouth before he could think them through.

The weight of what he'd just said hit him hard. Why had he let that dark thought slip out? He had the Weasleys. They had been his true family ever since he was eleven. Determined to fix what he'd just said, Harry pulled his hands from his pockets and turned to Hermione, looking her in the eyes.

"Listen, Hermione… that's not what I meant, it's just that…"

"It's complicated," she answered before he could finish. Her face was calm and serene, and a comforting smile bloomed on her lips. "I know, Harry, I know. Why don't you just take a deep breath and tell me what you really meant?"