I still had inspiration for this story, so I managed to crank out another chapter. Enjoy! :)

The harsh light of morning accentuated the hard lines of his face. Harry Potter moaned in pain, clutching his head with two hands in an effort to keep it on his shoulders. It hurt so bad, like there was a group of wildebeests playing badminton with knives under his skull. He rolled sideways on his bed, grasping out for his glasses so he could make his way to get medicine for his hangover.

The nightmares were getting worse. Vivid visions of a sword and blood, of red wings and someone screaming his name. "Michael! Please!" But no, that wasn't his name. He was Harry.

Just Harry.

Harry who defeated Voldemort. Harry who ran from the wizarding world the first chance he got, desperate to escape the terrible memories and flashbacks. Harry who lost his friends because he didn't return calls. Harry who was guilty, always guilty.

He took three pills of the generic pain killer and washed it down with a glass of water. Wincing at the coldness of it, Harry continued to sip his glass and get lost in his memories. Some of them weren't his own, that was for sure.

A year ago, three years after the Battle of Hogwarts, he began having visions again. Only this time, instead of being centered on Voldemort, they were focused on angels of all things. Specifically, featuring Harry as the archangel Michael, oftentimes the moment he struck down the devil from Heaven. He convinced himself it was just his psyche coping with the after effects of the war. The feelings of regret and guilt started to bleed into his mind, and he couldn't tell if they were from the dreams or his own actions during the war. He'd distanced himself more and more, until he was holed up in the muggle world, ignoring any letters and drinking himself stupid. It was the only way to get rid of that look on the devil's face. The devil, looking up at him with complete and utter betrayal in his dreams.

He had many recurring nightmares of the war, and of the angels, but that one bothered him the most. Harry even picked up a copy of the bible to read, but it said little about angels, and certainly didn't mention anything like what his dream suggested. That the devil was anything but evil.

The only other dream that bothered him was a vivid feel of walking into the Forbidden Forest at Hogwarts. He assumed it was a memory of that night at first. Except he didn't feel the dread or pain of accepting death, and he didn't see Voldemort's twisted face. He felt almost excited in that dream. It was puzzling, perhaps not as much as the angels. He wasn't even religious for Merlin's sake! Why would he dream himself as an archangel?

The fire flared to life behind him. Harry whipped around, wand in hand, ready to attack. He relaxed when he saw who it was.

"Most people knock, you know." Harry quipped.

"If I knocked, would you have answered?" Hermione retorted. She looked good, the Ministry job must have been keeping her nice and busy.

"Good point." He said, taking another long sip of his water to avoid talking. Hermione shook her head and sent him a disappointed look. She could probably tell what he was doing.

She opened her mouth to speak, but was cut of by the shaking of the Earth. The ground rumbled like a fierce beast and a high pitched whining noise echoed through the room. The glass cabinets shattered. As did the cup in Harry's hand, causing a long slash across his palm. Hermione screamed for him, but he was standing stock still, head tilted to the side. He was listening, he could hear the voice in the noise.

It was an angel. He knew it was, somehow. He couldn't tell which one, but he wasn't going to stick around to find out.

"I found you!"

Harry didn't think before he was running for Hermione, grabbing her arm, and appreciating them away. She shook him off violently, eyes darting them around at the green grounds of Hogwarts, her eyes drawn to his bloody hand.

"What was that?" Hermione stared at him in disbelief. Her face said she didn't even know him anymore, and despite the anguish it brought him, Harry knew it to be true.

"It was a angel." He replied softly, Ducking to hide under his black bangs and holding his injured hand close. How had it come to this? How was any of this real. The dreams...were they trying to warn him?

"An angel?! Harry angels don't-"

"Exist. I know, I thought so too until now." Hermione glared at having been interrupted, but Harry shook his head at her. Now wasn't the time for one of their arguments. They'd had those many times before pulled away, but that mattered little now. He looked her in the eyes and she could tell he was serious.

"Hermione...you trust me?" He asked hesitantly.

"Yes, always." She said. Their differences may have become more apparent, and Harry may have disappeared from his old life, but she would always remember him fondly. They had been through a lot together.

"You need to get far away from here." He said.

"Harry what-"

"Go now!" He said, and without further hesitation she apparated away.

Harry turned to the forest, his heart thumping in his chest. He didn't know why or how, but he knew he had to do this. He just knew. Whether it was the strange realization that his nightmares had been real, or the innate instinct he felt in his gut, he didn't know. He just knew he had to go into the Forbidden Forest. Steeling himself, Harry hurriedly ran at top speed towards the trees. Who knew how long it would take the angel to find him again.

Why were they coming after him now? After months of these dreams...angels just show up at his door. It was unnerving to say the least.

Deeper and deeper he delved into the trees, dodging the roots by his feet and clutching his bleeding hand to his chest. He ran and ran until he couldn't run anymore. Dropping to his knees in a clearing, Harry screamed in frustration. What was he doing? He knew he was here for something, but what was it!?

While angerly he banged his uninjured hand on the dirt, eyes scrunched closed, he didn't notice what was happening. Around him, each tree in the vast forest released a tiny light from within their trunks. The thousand of lights flew towards Harry's form, congregating around him in the clearing. Harry caught light from under his eyelids, and blearily blinked his emerald eyes open. He watched, open mouthed as the many lights danced around him. As if drawn by an invisible force, they gathered into one huge ball of light right in front of Harry.

He blinked at it and reached out his hands, the warm light burying itself in his embrace and then shooting down his open mouth. Harry's eyes burned blinding light into the clearing. The cut on his hand healing over with brand new skin. When he opened his eyes again he was two as one. Harry Potter and Michael. His grace had returned to him. The clearing was silent, save for a small gasp.

And he remembered.

His Father, his true Father, tall and foreboding. Who appeared before him, reached out towards him and whispered.

"Go forth, my son, and learn."

Then he was waking up crying, as a young human baby. Time warped to bring him to Lily and James Potter, and there, he was born. He fought for his life. He died for the lives of others. And through it all, he gained more than he could imagine. The Weasleys, who had perished in the war, would always be his second family.

Young Ron with his dirty nose and freckled face, who had not judged where he came from and always let go of his jealousy to come back. Fred and George, who kept everyone smiling despite it all, and helped him where they could. Bill and Charlie, who would always come back to protect their family, even when they had lives of their own. Ginny, who went from blindly adoring him to a true friend, always talking sense into his thick skull. Molly and Arthur, who took him in as their own child, even when they already had so much to worry about. Even Hermione was always helping him when she had her own dreams, dreams she was now pursuing with a passion. They had taught him how a family should be. Having their differences, but always together in the end.

The being who was both Harry and Michael smiled, knowing then what he had to do.

"Thank you Father, I understand now."