A hero, in the public's eyes, is always calm and brave. They only see his courageous battle against evil, see his refined manner, confident smile, powerful strength. What they cannot see, is the fatigue the hero experiences after being startled awake by a nightmare, or his wail of grief after dreaming of those gentle memories, or the weakness that is only seen after he takes off his mask when he is alone.

He, Harry Potter, is that kind of a hero.

It's been a long time since the Great War, and that time is enough for him to accomplish a great deal: wipe out the remaining Death Eaters; rectify the Ministry of Magic; rebuild Hogwarts, and be present for countless Death Eater hearings at the Wizengamot. He also acted as a guarantor in the trial for the innocence of the Malfoys for their actions, saving them from life in Azkaban, in addition to Lucius Malfoy providing a complete list of Death Eaters, giving great convenience to the Aurors. Other than that, would be the announcement of Severus Snape's innocence, as well as presenting him with an Order of Merlin, First Class. But what good does that do? People cannot rise from the dead, it Professor probably wouldn't care for it in the first place.

In the tiring period of rebuilding after the war, new life is always welcomed. The Daily Prophet opened up a new column dedicated to the pictures of newborn babies. This is greatly welcomed, at least Harry is more than happy to flip through them during his free time. This reminds him of the reason that he is doing all of this—for the future of the Magic World.

Just like what Dumbledore himself did.

Yesterday Harry saw the pictures of Ginny and Neville's child, as well as Ron and Hermione's second daughter. Seeing the sweet smile on those small cute faces give Harry a soft feeling in his heart.

This is great. Everyone is happy. Everything is fine.

He owled out two presents but regretted it the moment they were sent off. Perhaps, they would rather not receive anything from him. It would remind them of how the best of friends would trust each other with their lives have now become mere strangers.

After the war, hidden troubles that were beneath the surface erupted. After he broke up with Ginny, Ron got into a fight with Harry. To be honest, Ron didn't hit him that hard. As he was hitting Harry, his eyes began to water up, he stopped and dragged his hand down his face. Why, did we come to this? Hermione said painfully, off to the side.

Yes…why? Perhaps Fred's death. He died in the war that should have been between only Harry Potter and Voldemort, and in turn, caused his brother George to turn to suicide. This left a painful scar in the minds of the Weasleys. Perhaps its' because he finally realized he never loved Ginny and chose to break up, leaving Ginny painfully distraught. This is all his, Harry Potter's, fault.

Damn it, he really hates himself. He has considered ending it all multiple times. However, he can't. His parents gave up their lives so that he can live; he cannot just give up. Moreover, after everything, how many people died because of him? Sirius, Remus, Snap…just thinking about it gives him the chills. His life has been tainted with blood, it's the consequence he must bare for life.

So, despite all the despair, he must live on.

Today is the ten-year anniversary of the war, and everyone in the Magic World is celebrating. Harry walked out of the Aurors Office muddleheaded, not knowing where he could go. As if in a trance, he came to Hogwarts. After the war, the Ministry gave him the title of an honorary headmaster, which is quite useful in this situation. He walked through the front gates of Hogwarts, concealed by his invisibility cloak. There are students playing in the hallways. Harry carefully avoided them, making his way towards the headmaster's office.

Not far away, he spotted Professor McGonagall with a handful of papers. Harry took off his invisibility cloak and greeted the professor.

"Harry, what are you doing here?" Professor McGonagall creased her brows. "I mean, I thought the Ministry was having a grand celebration, while you—alone—are in Hogwarts?"

"Professor, I wanted to see Professor Dumbledore," Harry said lightly.

Perhaps seeing the paleness of the teen in front of her, Professor McGonagall did not inquire further. "Alright, go ahead, I must attend the feast in the dining hall. The password is 'sugar quill'."

Ever since Professor McGonagall became headmistress, she continued Dumbledore's tradition of using sweets as passwords. This is the witch's unique way of remembering Dumbledore.

Headmaster's office hasn't changed much, still the beautiful and grand circular room, filled with funny little noises. The quirky silverware on top of the table are spinning and swirling, gushing out poofs of smoke.

He still remembers the big fight he had with Dumbledore at the end of his fifth year, smashing a bunch of the silverware here. There are also the countless times he received private lessons from Dumbledore about defeating Voldemort. He still remembers, that time after returning from Christmas break during his sixth year, he told the headmaster about the meeting he had with Rufus Scrimgeour, and told Dumbledore that he, Harry Potter, is and always will be on Dumbledore's side, and the headmaster shedding a tear at his words. Everything seems as if it only happened yesterday.

He faced Dumbledore's portrait. The former headmaster smiled at him affably, a gleam of intelligence flashed through those eyes behind the moon-shaped glasses—just like hos he smiled to Harry countless times before.

"Harry, it's great to see you."

After the defeat of Voldemort, Harry has never been here, never once saw Dumbledore's portrait. Those times when he as lost and helpless, he chose to come to Hogwarts, under his invisibility cloak, and sit next to the grand white marble grave next to the Forbidden Forest, to rest for a short while. Maybe the grave cannot give him answers, but it can remind Harry the amount of loss that people sacrificed through his journey. That, gives him enough power to keep on.

"It's been a long time, Professor Dumbledore." Harry stared intently at the former headmaster's portrait. "Harry Potter, true to his word, accomplished the task you gave me."

"Harry, thank you. I must say, the sacrifices you have made over the years of much to great." Tears fell out of the former headmaster's blue eyes.

"At least I'm still alive. Compared to you, and the countless people who are no longer with us, I have far too much."

But, you look like an old man ready for the grave, though alive. Dumbledore thought, not saying it aloud. He knows that whatever he says now has no effect. Starting from a young age, Harry Potter has carried a tremendous burden on his shoulders. When others his age were playing, dating, fighting, he has been running for his life from the clutches of Voldemort, learning to defeat the greatest dark wizard for the last fifty years after Gellert Grindelwald. Time after time witnessing the passing of family and friends, harboring the pain of the betrayal of friends, maturing exponentially. In that body that is still young, contains a soul as old as his.

Not yet grown, yet already old.

"So, why have you come to see me today? After so many years?" Dumbledore suppressed the dull pain in his chest, feigning a façade of relief.

"It seems that after completing the goal that has been set for me for so long, Professor, that I have lost my way." Harry pulled the corners of his mouth, trying to smile. "I don't know what I should do now when none of my family or friends are with me anymore."

Dumbledore gazed at the twenty-seven-year-old teen in front of him, then spoke.

"I have always wondered when you would come to see me. Ten years ago, you came to me the morning after you defeated Voldemort. However, in the ten years since, you never came again. I knew from others that you've been working to rebuild the Magic World thought these ten years. I thought that if you were tired you come and see little old me, which then, perhaps, I could give you some advice. However, you never came. Why? I have always been curious."

"I won't complain, professor, it is all that I should have been carrying, no one would be able to decide for me. Moreover, you are just a portrait, you won't ever come back." This is what Harry cared for the most. Seeing the portrait, can you fully understand that no one can come back from the dead.

Dumbledore finally made a decision. "Eleven years ago, the summer before your sixth year, Severus told me that I had one year left. From that day forward, not only was I planning how you would defeat Voldemort, I also made a decision for the unforeseeable future. I put that memory into the portrait. I told myself, that one day, if Harry Potter defeated Voldemort, but he is still regretful, I will tell him of that plan." Dumbledore gazed at the green eyes that widened in surprise. "Now, are you, Harry Potter, ready to learn of this plan?"

Harry sucked in a breath, "You mean to say that this plan, can salvage everything I regret?"

"Perhaps."

"Then, professor, I want to know!" Confidence flashed across those green eyes.

"Alright then, Harry, listen carefully. When you were seventeen and looking for the Deathly Hallows, have you considered what would happen if you had all three items? I know, at the time you were only focused on destroying the Horcruxes. 'If all three Deathly Hallows are collected, your heart's most desired would come true.' However, you are making a deal with the Grim Reaper, with a great sacrifice. Even so, Harry, do you still persist in knowing?"

"Yes. As long as it can salvage my regrets, I'll do anything!"

If there is even the smallest possibility of salvaging everything, then he would sacrifice everything for that slight chance. He can no longer tolerate the world without the warmth he so relied upon the past.

Harry came to the Forbidden Forest, Elder Wand in hand. "Accio resurrection stone!" According to Dumbledore, the resurrection stone responds to the call of the last person to touch it. True to that, a rough black stone with cracks flew out from an unknown corner of the Forbidden Forest, falling into the open palm of Harry's hand.

Finding an open space, placing the invisibility cloak, resurrection stone, and elder wand according to their place. Taking out his own holly wand, Harry drew a circle within a triangle, with a straight line through both on the ground. After all this, Harry straightened, glanced back at the Hogwarts Castle that is still slightly visible through the forest, and clenched his fists.

Ten years. He has spent the past ten years in regret, as if drowning in a puddle of boundless bitterness, unable to escape. But now, even with a tiny sliver of hope, he will try. If only, he can change, can save the lives of those most important to him.

Without hesitation, Harry recites the spell Dumbledore taught him: "Hear my cry for mercy as I call to you for help, as I left up my hands towards your Most Sacred Place.* For this I offer my soul, sacrificing my soul to the Grim Reaper, to beg of you granting my heart's most desired!"

After a bright flash of light, Harry disappeared.

In the distance, the celebration carries on in the Hogwarts castle. People raises their cup, for the hero that saved all of the Magical World—Harry Potter.

(A.N.) *Taken from the Bible, Psalm 28:2 (no religious implications intended...)