Hello and welcome to the story! I have done some more redrafting of this story so I apologize for the absence. I just feel like the story could be better than it was. This story, set between the Battle of Hogwarts and September, is part of my own timeline, which is basically where I fill in the gaps of Rowling's canon story. I think of it as an epilogue for the events of Deathly Hallows. By the way, I do not own Harry Potter. All reviews are appreciated and thanks for reading!

The night was silent, and the moon shone gracefully through the open window to the Gryffindor dormitory. The white curtains fluttered peacefully in the calming breeze, flapping around the window pane like a wedding dress. The sky was a clear, perfect black, untainted by any clouds and hopeful stars dotted the dark blanket. The room showed little evidence of habitation; the beds were neatly made and there were no personal belongings scattered in the room. In fact, no one had been living in this room for quite some weeks. The only blemish on the quiet scene was a rough hole that had opened up to the outside after a wayward spell; rubble and dust had been thrown out into the room. One bed of the five, however, was occupied by a still figure, laying on the haphazardly arranged covers, still wearing it's well-worn shoes.

Harry Potter thought he would be happy to never move again, as he lay motionless, staring at the ceiling. After a chat with the portrait of Dumbledore and telling Ron and Hermione that they could go back to the Great Hall, he had mindlessly trudged up to his old dorm and flung himself spread-eagled on his bed. The Elder Wand poked into him from it's pocket, reminding him he still had to get rid of it. His muscles ached and seemed to weigh him down on the bed like lead weights; every now and then a recently acquired cut would burn with pain and he would wince. One injury on his chest, where the Avada Kedavra curse had hit him, and killed him, was persistently painful, but he had had to endure pain before and he knew he could do it again. He had meant to come up and sleep, but his brain had whirred into life uncontrollably and would not be shut down. So he had no choice but to let it wander and reside in his misery.

Harry's mind dwelled on the nightmare of the past day, the past weeks, the past months, where his and everyone he loved's lives were in constant peril. Strangely, he could remember little of the actual fighting; it was like he had been on autopilot. He had not felt fear, not really. Just determination that it would end one way or the other, which had given him a freedom that enabled him to win the battle. Win, being a relative term; they had had their losses too. His mind brought back images of the bodies of Tonks, Remus and Fred, as stiff as stone, and he choked back a tear.

It wasn't fair! It wasn't fair that they had to die! They were good people, brave people! They were better than him, he had barely fought in the battle, but they had given their lives. He couldn't help but feel that it was his fault so many were dead. He had led the Death Eaters to Hogwarts, he had brought death upon them. Perhaps, he could have given himself up to Voldemort sooner, and spared them their lives.

Harry's mind then drifted wistfully to thoughts of the living and the reactions they might have when they see him again. Sure there would probably those who thought highly of him, but that would be those who weren't involved. But what would Ron or Ginny think of him for being the cause of the death of their brother? The Weasleys might not want to see him again and he would lose those who were dearest to him, those who he considered his family. Ron, his oldest best friend, who he couldn't imagine life without, and Ginny, the love of his life, who he wanted to spend his future with, might never want to see him again. He realised now he wanted nothing more than to be with Ginny again, and to experience her embrace once more. This thought had driven him on in the darkest of times but now this dream might be finished. He had nothing to keep him going, so his brain simply ate away at itself. He probably wouldn't be able to become an Auror either as he didn't have any NEWTs. He had fought for the safety of the entire wizarding world, but without Ginny and his friends, his victory achieved nothing for him personally.

With these sombre thoughts, Harry started to feel like he was drifting off into a dark sleep, when his stomach rumbled violently. He was famished and it was keeping him up. He hadn't had a good meal in months and felt like his stomach was eating itself. He suddenly remembered that he had meant to ask Kreacher for a sandwich. "Kreacher," he said, in a hoarse voice, unsure if Kreacher would still be able to come to him. Fortunately, with a pop, the ancient House-Elf obediently appeared, looking bedraggled. "Thank goodness you're alright Kreacher," he said.

Kreachers bulging eyes widened. "Master Harry is concerned for lowly Kreacher's health. Master Harry is very noble."

"And the other House-Elves?"

"About a dozen elves sustained injuries," Kreacher reported gravely.

"Are they being seen to?"

"Yes. Miss Granger made sure." Harry felt a surge of pride for his friend.

"Good...good. And I'm sorry for dragging you and the other elves into this."

"Sorry? Sorry? Why is Master Harry sorry?" Kreacher croaked. "He has nothing to apologise for. Master Harry fought nobly for freedom and for the House-Elves. He avenged Master Regulus. Kreacher and the House-Elves fought willingly. Master Harry should not apologise."

After this conversation, Harry felt slightly better. Kreacher did not seem to attribute any blame to Harry, but did the rest of the population? After all, Kreacher's view may be biased by the fact that Harry was his Master. But he did provide some hope.

"Do you think you could you get me a sandwich?" Harry said, still rather subdued, as Kreacher disappeared. The silence and darkness enveloped him again. Kreacher came back with a cheese sandwich, which he nibbled experimentally on. The flavour seemed to spread through his body and bring back life to it. He spoke now with a clearer voice.

"Listen Kreacher, I want you to know that if you want to be free, you can go." But Kreacher had a look of horror on his large bat-like face.

"Master Harry wouldn't get rid of Kreacher would he?" he wailed, pulling his massive ears. "Kreacher would lose all purpose. What would Kreacher do?"

Harry tried to calm him down. "Ok, ok, Kreacher, it's alright, it's alright. I won't let you go. But I want you to treat Grimmauld Place like it's your own. Consider it a gift."

Oddly, tears shimmered in Kreacher's eyes. "Kreacher cannot thank Master Harry enough for his generosity."

"And if you ever feel lonely, you can go and work in the kitchens at Hogwarts. Now, I want you to go and help tend to the injured house-elves," Harry commanded. Kreacher's aged, wrinkled features contorted into a strange, small smile and then he disappeared with a musty pop.

Now, that his hunger was more sated, Harry relaxed and settled on his bed, his head resting on his hands. He was feeling quite a lot more upbeat after his little chat with Kreacher than he had before as he now felt that maybe people didn't blame him like he thought. Harry felt his scar on his forehead, realising that all the pain in it had subsided. The danger was over, Harry thought. A small smile spread on his lips as he closed his eyes and drifted into sleep. However, before Harry could properly drift off he was woken by a familiar voice. "Harry!" it called, and his eyes snapped open to reveal a mane of red hair.

"Ginny!" he shouted, his heart wrenching as she catapulted on to the bed next to him. She hugged him tightly and he did the same. "I missed you so much," she whispered gently.

"I missed you too." He didn't know what it meant for them but right now it didn't matter. What mattered was that he was there for her and would help her recover. At least it meant they were friends, although Harry hoped they could be more than that again. The time they were together was the best time in his life, and he wanted to return to that. Surely, it meant that she saw him as more than a friend; after all, she had chosen to come to him for comfort, hadn't she. For all he knew though, Ginny hadn't forgiven him for leaving and didn't want to get back together again. But before Harry could ask her anything-

He was taken aback as she buried her face in his chest, and started sobbing quietly. Why was it girls always cried on him? He comfortingly stroked her back and hair, letting her know that he was here for her. He had never seen her cry before, and was distraught to see such a strong, confident person so utterly devastated. It brought back bitter hatred for the Death Eaters, who had taken away Fred and reduced Ginny to this state. Tears of sympathy began to slide down his face and into Ginny's hair as he held her tight. He hoped that the cheerful Ginny he loved would soon return.

"I came to f-f-find you," she said between sobs. "F-f-Fred's g-g-gone. They killed h-h-him. They killed you." Harry didn't think it was an appropriate time to tell her about that so was content with stroking her and going "I know, I know." It then hit him that he had had a part of Voldemort inside of him and felt dirty. He didn't deserve her, after all the pain he had caused. "I'm so sorry, Gin," he murmured into her hair, subconsciously detecting her strong floral scent, despite the fact her hair was coated in dust and blood.

"W-w-what for?" she replied. "You saved us. You didn't kill F-F-Fred. The D-D-Death Eaters did." The fact that she didn't blame him made him feel over the moon but this was quickly overridden with his feelings of pity and sympathy. Ginny finally lifted her head off his chest and her chocolate-brown eyes were glittery with tears. "Would you come downstairs with me...to the Great Hall?" she asked. Harry hesitated, wondering if that was a good idea. There could be others down there who blamed him, maybe even other Weasleys. But he quickly realized that he would do it for her, no matter what people thought of him. "Course Gin," he said, smiling despite himself.

The pair made their way downstairs to the hall, and a slowly increasing general hubbub could be heard. They slipped through the large doors, trying to remain discreet but to no avail. "It's him, it's Harry Potter!" someone shouted. "Our saviour!" A large body of people began advancing towards them. He prepared to duck out of the hall with Ginny wound tightly around him, when several figures stepped out in front of the mob, wands held at chest height. Harry noticed they were his friends, even some of his professors, including Dean, Seamus, Hagrid and McGonagall amongst others. "Oi, what's the big idea?" one obviously drunk man from the mob cried out, eyeing Dean's wand angrily.

"I think you should give Harry some space," Seamus warned menacingly. "You owe him at least that much." The mob glanced nervously at his wand then dispersed, grumbling. The last to leave was the drunk man, who stared at Seamus, then hobbled off, muttering under his breath. Harry thanked his friends, who returned to their merriment or mourning, then headed over to the group of Weasleys.

Upon getting over there, Mrs Weasley, puffy-eyed, gave him a crushing hug and then held him motherly by the shoulders and examined him. "Harry, I don't know what you have planned, but you're welcome to live with us for as long as you like. I've already offered it to Hermione," she said, her voice unstable. "You look as thin as Ron and Hermione. I'll make sure to feed you up when we get home."

Harry couldn't thank her enough, after all the pain he had brought into this family's life. He had always thought of the Weasleys as family but Mrs Weasley asking Harry to call The Burrow home was beyond what he had hoped for. "Thanks Mrs Weasley," was all he could find to say, his voice cracking slightly. Looking around the group he noticed they were all crowding around the lifeless body of Fred, holding each other. He couldn't help but notice that Hermione clung to Ron's arm, and found he was happy that they had finally realised their feelings for each other. He gave Ron a heartfelt hug, and shared a similar hug and a sad look with Hermione, as Ginny went to her mother. They both knew, without any exchange of words, that they would be there to support the Weasleys.

Harry couldn't believe that they were gone: Fred, Tonks and Remus. He couldn't believe that he would never be on the receiving end of one of Fred's pranks again, that he would never hear one of his jokes again. He was one of the happiest, kindest people Harry ever knew and he was like an older brother to him. And Tonks with her endless good-humour and clumsy traits, was gone forever. And finally, Remus Lupin, the best friend of his father as well as friend and father figure to him, Harry. The last survivor of the Marauders, who had taught Harry so much. When he talked to him, it was like an extension of his father, that he provided a link between them. Now, he was gone too. And neither would be able to see their son, Teddy, grow up. Harry vowed to himself right then that he would make sure that even though Teddy was an orphan, he would grow up much happier than Harry had, just what they had fought and died for.