Disclaimer: It's JKR's world, and while it has taken me a few years, I've finally come to grips with her vision. But, I still reject details, and the following is an effort at one such perceived change.

A/N: Harry reacts differently during his talk with Dumbledore at the point of crossing over at the end of Deathly Hallows.

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"Harry." He spread his arms wide and his hands were both whole and white and undamaged. "You wonderful boy. You brave, brave man. Let us walk."

~Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows pg. 707 J.K.R.

Harry looked at Albus Dumbledore and it was if several unanswered questions and inconsistencies in his life clicked into place like a lock working properly for the first time.

He suddenly understood so much of his own life, the Dursleys, Snape, the prophecy all revolved around the choices the man before him had made. But, instead of irrational anger he felt a strange calm flow over his being, as if shackles that had long been in place had finally been shed.

Dumbledore looked at Harry expectantly, but the young wizard's calm expression seemed surprising based upon his own quizzical expression. Harry finally spoke with a serene expression on his face, "Do you feel lighter sir?"

Dumbledore pondered the statement for a moment before recognition filled his eyes, "In many ways I do Harry, but the weight of our actions in life do not fully scrub away upon death. Nothing is so final even in death."

Harry sighed but smiled in response, "Never without wisdom at your disposal, are you sir?"

Dumbledore looked sheepish as he replied, "If mere knowledge of wisdom makes one wise, then it is a highly overrated trait to possess."

Harry laughed as he gazed back at the shattered, pathetic looking being that represented Voldemort's soul, "So many of my choices seem to make a little more sense now that I'm sitting here. Death has a funny way of doing that though, I'd imagine. Having a cap to place context on my life allows me to see my mistakes in so much more clarity."

Dumbledore flourished his hand, "Nonsense, despite my efforts to give you the barest amount of information to complete your task, you performed admirably in terms of results if nothing else."

Turning to face Harry fully he continued, "You are not dead Harry, at least not fully. You still have a choice to make, whether you decide to be truly courageous and live now that you've broken Tom's hold on power, or join your parents in the afterlife, fulfilled, but with the question of what if lingering in your mind. As the master of death, the decision is ultimately yours."

Harry exhaled a deep breath, picturing the Weasleys, Hermione, little Teddy, and his other friends moving on without him and he felt a stabbing pain in his chest as he thought of that possible future. Thinking for a moment he asked, "Were you aware of the love potions Albus?"

Dumbledore frowned, his brow furrowing as he replied, "I suspected as much, but never had a chance to verify. I would hazard a guess that Molly's hand was firmly involved in the single application during the summer before your sixth year, a dose to both yourself and Ms. Granger if my guess is correct."

Harry nodded once, the time was long past for recriminations, now it was merely time to fix the mistakes of the past. Smiling again he pumped the hand of his mentor, and puppet master, feeling no ill will to the other wizard, "May you find the peace in death you deserve Albus."

Dumbledore smiled and with a twinkle in his eye he rejoined, "And may you find happiness and prosperity in your life Harry."

Harry nodded once and closed his eyes, willing his consciousness back into his body as only the true master of death was capable.

Harry opened his eyes minutely and could tell he was in Hagrid's arms, no doubt being carried as a prize to Voldemort's ego.

As Hagrid sat him gently to the ground Harry could feel the siren's call of power resting in the elder wand, calling for its true master. Harry knew then, that Voldemort's end was near, and now he merely hoped for the end of the death going on around the battlefield.

Narcissa Malfoy was suddenly in his face, hissing questions which Harry ignored, he remembered Hermione's screams at Malfoy Manor, and decided he owed the woman no favors.

As the woman left, apparently satisfied he was dead based upon his lack of response he slowly rose, to the astonishment of those present, even Voldemort gaped for a second before rage filled his expression, "Potter, why won't you just die like your mudblood mother did?"

Harry merely shook his head, vaguely he heard Mrs. Weasley shout something but he turned his full attention to Voldemort and merely said, "No."

Voldemort hissed in rage, "Defiant to the end Potter, such an annoying trait."

Harry held his hand out, mentally calling for the elder wand as its true master, the wand responded in spectacular fashion, shooting off sparks as is shot across the clearing between the two wizards.

Harry didn't incant a spell, instead he merely wished for Voldemort's soul to pass on, as it should have years earlier. The magical construct of the Dark Lord's body appeared to implode without a shred of soul or magic to hold it together, the only real possible cause could be seen in Harry's pointed wand, which glowed with power.

Harry closed his eyes for a beat before he was tackled to the ground by Hermione, who sobbed into his shoulder, mumbling about thinking he had been dead. Free of the mental fog of the love potion he merely enjoyed the warm hug of his female best friend. Reaching out with his magic, he snipped away the same artificial emotional connections in Hermione's mind and magic, and he was surprised at the brief peck on the lips he received a moment later.

The blush on Hermione's cheeks indicated more than sisterly affection in the kiss, and while he pondered briefly on the merits pf exploring that affection immediately, ultimately he decided other more immediate concerns required his attention more.

The mess of the battlefield seemed to involve an influx and efflux of various officials of the repatriated Ministry of Magic, seemingly when the head of the beast had been cut off with Voldemort being destroyed, his followers had once again scattered into the wind.

So many good people were dead now, the Weasleys mourned their losses like everyone else, and the mourning period prevented any scenes about the brief kiss Harry and Hermione had shared following his victory.

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Time passed quickly in the post-Voldemort world for Harry as contrary to popular desire he disappeared into the muggle world, coming to grips with his new outlook on life, outside of the spotlight, with ample time to ease into his new thing with Hermione as she restored her parent's memories

The Weasleys had been very understanding about nearly everything, the unspoken understanding about the love potions went unspoken as everyone sorted through the grief in the aftermath of another devastating war. The policies of the puppet regime and Delores Umbridge could still be felt as the muggleborns that had survived the labor camps were quietly leaving Britain for more tolerant places.

In short, Magical Britain was a hair's breadth from total collapse, and without a titular figurehead like Harry to rally support, the Ministry had devolved into a chorus of a hundred different voices, all expecting different things and accomplishing nothing.

Harry on the other hand felt none of these concerns as he lazed about on the couch of Hermione's parents place in Australia with his girlfriend as she read a book and he napped. A distant ringing could be heard as Harry lazily opened his eyes and murmured, "Whazzat?"

Hermione smirked as she turned a page sedately, "Mum and dad ordered in some food tonight and rented some movies, sort of a quiet night in I think." Canting her head she added, "Not that we've been the height of activity today or anything."

Harry blinked his eyes owlishly, his new contacts still felt strange in his eyes, and while he hadn't fallen fully asleep on the couch, his drooping eyes had shifted the lenses about enough to make him uncomfortable. "Well, next time I try a ruddy mad idea like a triathlon talk me out of it."

Hermione stroked his chest lightly, a comfortable gesture, although her fingertips lingered longer now then when they had merely been friends. While she hadn't shown it outwardly, she harbored some serious anger for a certain red haired matron. In her mind everything during the horcrux year would have been so much easier if they hadn't needed to deal with messed up emotions.

Feeling a little randy she leaned over Harry, covering his face with a curtain of hair before she dove down and claimed his lips in a smoldering kiss. It still surprised her how effortless, and frankly amazing the physical aspects of their relationship were. She had harbored doubts even in the haze of her love potion fueled thoughts of Ron of how it could work between them.

Of course, with Harry that modesty had never been there, and she found herself much more open both emotionally and physically than she had ever thought possible. Without breaking the kiss she settled her hips over Harry's and ground down once on his obvious arousal. Harry groaned and she smirked into his lips before her tongue found his and they tangled.

Finally she broke the kiss and whispered into his ear, "My mum and dad won't be back from work for another couple of hours, lets go up to our room and play."

Harry grunted and swung her up into his arms, taking the steps two at a time, his previously sore muscles didn't seem to ache any longer. Stumbling into their shared room their clothes were pealed away, with Hermione still in her bra and panties as Harry was down to his boxers. Without breaking the kiss Hermione reached down and grasped Harry in her hand as he massaged her lace covered breasts before undoing the clasp in front.

Hermione stroked him a few more times before she murmured, "I need you, Harry."

Harry slid her panties down gently and flipped her over underneath him, Hermione repaid him as she slid his boxers down and over his buttocks, giving them a quick squeeze as he hands traveled down his back and legs. Opening her legs she grasped him again and slid him between her welcoming folds, feeling that same rush as she always did when Harry was inside of her. She was blissfully happy, and as Harry began to slid into and out of her she moaned his name and lost herself in the experience.

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Harry gazed at the freshly repaired and constituted Hogwarts express with a sense of nostalgia, his head boy badge was pinned on his chest and to his right Hermione's head girl badge was likewise pinned. Due to a desire to make a real positive difference in the magical world on his own merits, free from the inanity of prophecy both Harry and Hermione had bucked the popular trend of their year mates and elected to return for their final year of classes, after their long deserved break in Australia.

Most of the others had opted for a start to careers, re-staffing the gutted out Ministry of Magic, interim minister Kingsley Shacklebolt was making it a point to clear away all of the old influence in an attempt to effect real change.

Hermione broke her hold on Harry's hand to crouch down and talk to a first year student, a muggleborns based upon the clothing she wore. The little girl looked frightened, and while the atrocities committed against the muggleborns during Pius Thickness's reign had led to many deaths and even more emigrations, a new feeling of acceptance beyond mere tolerance was slowly filtering through wizarding society.

Softly she asked the young girl, "Do you need some help with your trunk?"

The little girl answered shyly, "No, I just wanted to thank you and Mr. Potter."

Hermione smiled softly but asked, "Thank us for what?"

The little girl replied more confidently, "For making the bad people go away. Professor McGonagall told us, that it was the two of you that made the difference, and made it so people like me could come to Hogwarts."

Hermione glanced up to Harry who was smiling benignly before she turned back to the little girl and touched the tip of her nose gently, "You have just as much right as anyone else to be here, and if anyone ever tells you differently, you come and tell Harry or me."

The little girl smiled widely with a pair of cute dimples appearing before she ducked her head and blushed before scurrying onto the train.

Harry helped Hermione back to her feet, hugging her to him with an arm wrapped around her waist before he kissed her head and said, "Let's go change the world."

Hermione smiled and response before taking his hand and leading Harry on to the train, they were off to the start of another adventure, but this time they did so with open eyes.

A/N: Just watched HBP and I have to admit they did a nice job with it, although the Hermione and Ron bits while amusing still baffle me even now. Looking just as personalities, Hermione and Ron aren't even opposites, that would suggest they have the same sorts of desires, concerns, and goals although with different expectations. No, the romance of HP will forever be a disappointment to me, and this is yet another take on improving things from my perspective.