Harry and Ginny were sitting in a café. It was their one month anniversary since they had gotten back together after the war. Harry was watching as the sun hit her skin and hair. She looked beautiful, yet Harry couldn't help but feel like something was amiss. Ginny tilted her head to the side and looked at him.

"What?"

"I don't know... something about you. It's weird."

"Don't know what it could be..." She ran her fingers through her hair. Her new haircut felt weird, it was much shorter. "Maybe that I got a haircut?"

"Oh, right."

"Harry, look, I have to tell you something…" She touched her hair again nervously and looked directly in his eyes. "I'm pregnant."

He choked on his coffee and stared at her, an incredulous expression on his face. He waited for her lips to twitch, but her face was impassive.

"Woah." Harry leaned back in his chair. "What? What? How? No... I mean..." Harry was stumbling on his words and felt more than a little nauseous.

Ginny just watched him over her mug of coffee with a serious look on her face.

"I mean, I'm surprised. And happy. Wow." His face was filled with horror that he tried to hide with a weak smile. His eyes darted from Ginny's face to her belly.

Behind the mug, her lips twitched. Her smile grew, and a big grin appeared on her face. Balancing her coffee mug on the table, she clutched her stomach and started laughing.

"Oh...Oh, my god." She wiped her eyes, looked at Harry, and exploded with laughter again. "Okay, no, wait..." she laughed a bit more, while Harry watched her in puzzlement. When he finally caught up, his face first filled with relief, which turned into slight irritation.

"It's not funny!" Ginny just laughed ignoring Harry's scolding. "You need to get a better sense of humour. I almost got a heart attack."

"Admit it, it was a little funny."

"Well. Maybe a little." Despite his words, he didn't smile.

Ginny finally calmed and cleared her throat.

"No, really, I have to tell you something."

"What is it?"

"I don't think we're working out."

Harry looked at her, pretending not to understand what she meant.

"What do you mean? I'm in great shape, and you're not bad, either."

Ginny looked at him, frustrated.

"Seriously?"

He abandoned his attempts at being funny and nodded slowly. "No. I agree. I see you as a sister and a-a wa-war... damn it." He drew a deep breath, his face suddenly looking much older, the hurt he kept hidden under a mask showing for a moment. "A w-war hero. So you know." He shook his head slightly.

"Harry," she started a note of worry in her voice. "You should consider seeing a therapist. It helps. It really does."

"I'm fine, just tired." He did look tired, bags under his eyes, hair messier than ever. However, he wasn't the only one who had nightmares. Ginny woke up a couple of times every night, too.

"You aren't sleeping again?"

"I said I'm fine," Harry said, dismissing her, and drank the remains of his cold coffee.

Ginny didn't look away, so Harry forced a smile. Ginny hadn't seen a smile that fake since Neville was told that Snape was a war hero. She sighed and changed the subject.

"Good thing we didn't get that apartment together that mum wanted."

"Hmm?" He nodded fiddling with his now empty cup. "Yes"

As the atmosphere now felt slightly strained, neither of them pressed on continuing the 'date'.

"Well, if we both said what we wanted, we should go."

They left the café and found some lonely alley to apparate from. They hugged goodbye and Ginny went home. Harry walked back on the busy street and strolled through London with no certain destination. He hadn't been in this part of the city before.

He went past an old bookshop, it was dusty and filled with books to the brim. Inside he saw only a girl with coloured hair in a black t-shirt, frantically rummaging through a bookshelf. When the owner – an older man with grey hair approached her, she shouted at him so loud Harry startled when her voice carried through the open door.

"Where is it? I left it here." She drew a sad breath and calmed. "Sorry, I, just wanted that book very much."

The old man nodded, smiling. "Yes, I noticed, dear, I put it aside."

"Oh…" Surprise showed on her face, in no time it turning in to happy grin. They wandered deeper in the shop and out of sight.

Continuing his stroll down the street, Harry wanted to smile, but before he could, he remembered all the people that were killed. He remembered how he is all alone now and how it was his fault, and kept walking. Guilt was eating him alive. All those people lost their lives, children left orphaned. Parents left without their children. He wanted to be home and alone, and not alone, and somewhere new. He wanted to forget and to remember, to feel and not to feel.

Harry stopped and steadied himself on a lamppost. A woman bumped into him, and though she apologized, he didn't notice.

His green eyes were wide, he tried to draw deep breaths to calm his racing heartbeat. After walking to the nearest human-free place, Harry disapparated. Next thing he saw was Grimmauld place looming over him. It wasn't home, but it was the closest thing to Harry.

Opening the door and walking in, he tripped on the fallen troll-leg umbrella stand.

"Fuck. That's it! You're going."

He took out his wand and furiously pointed at the helpless piece of furniture. It disappeared without any protest, but nothing could calm Harry. Next his eyes fell on the ugly dresser that had been there as long as he remembered. He vanished it with a heated swing of his arm, swivelling he shouted 'Evanesco' and the coat hanger disappeared at once, an ancient hat falling to the ground. He stomped on it with all his might. Thundering through the house angrily he continued shouting the vanishing spell.

After he stubbed his toe on a door, he cursed and disintegrated the door without even thinking properly, just furiously waving his wand around. He continued on the destruction of his house, shouting occasionally. All of his anger about the unfairness of the war and those who died and those who now have to live, simmering in him. Half an hour later Harry collapsed exhausted on his bed. His breathing was heavy, but luckily didn't feel as angry anymore. He knew nothing would bring back those who died, so he closed his eyes and stubbornly stayed still until he fell asleep.

In the middle of the night Harry started thrashing about in his bed and mumbling in the dark room caught midst another nightmare. As he had fallen asleep fully clothed and wand still in his hand, when he tossed and turned, he managed to startle himself awake by gawkily poking himself in the neck with his wand. Harry felt cold sweat on his skin as he shook his head trying to get the confusing images of green light and dying friends out of his mind.

Clattering the doors closed behind him he went to the bathroom. After throwing his dirty clothes on the floor, he looked in the mirror. A wide-eyed boy with unruly hair looked back. Suddenly he wanted nothing more than to punch the hell out of his reflection. He was useless and guilty...

"No."

Harry took a grip on his thoughts and closed his eyes.

"It wasn't my fault. They died because of Voldemort," he said aloud with a faint hope that that would make him believe the words.

But you could have saved them.

"I saved as many as I could."

The Voice in his head kept talking while Harry took a shower, while he shampooed his hair and while he dried his body with a towel. It didn't stop when he stood in front of the mirror, cutting his hair shorter, either.

Harry stubbornly didn't listen. He still felt guilty, but he couldn't change what had already happened. The only thing he could do was live on even if it meant battling that voice every day.

He sighed. When you defeat your enemies, you get demons inside your head. Who would have guessed? I hoped it would end when Voldemort died.

After the Battle of Hogwarts ended, there were trials and prison sentences, and reunions, and announcements of deaths to families. A week later Hogwarts' rebuilding started, by the start of the next school year it will be restored and upgraded. All the survivors had been asked to finish their education as eight years.

Harry desperately wanted to go back to the place where he had felt most at home for the previous six years, but at the same time now it is the place where so many had lost their lives. He was horrified to go back, yet he had agreed.

Luckily, he had managed to evade most of the reporters and ministry's people who had wanted to talk to him, ask him questions and make him relive what had happened. He had avoided Diagon Alley and other places where wizards could be. On those rare occasions when he did go out, he visited only the muggle parts of London. His long, lonely evenings he had spent watching muggle movies and series, somehow ignoring the voice that appeared anytime he wasn't fully concentrated on something else.

Now he was concentrating on his hair and making it more manageable.

How do people do this?

He cut the front as good as he could and tried to cut the back too, but it didn't end up anything like what he had imagined. Sighing he tried to make himself feel better and looked in the mirror again, flashing a forced grin.

"At least I look better than Malfoy."

He sighed again.

Whom am I kidding? Malfoy's hair was perfect!

Even in the court. Harry had felt terribly self-conscious while testifying for him, because even in prison robes Malfoy had looked collected and neat. His hair bloody flawless, while Harry hadn't had shower in 3 days and his hair was long and unkempt.

During the trials he had been so stressed he had barely remembered to eat. He had been required to be there in 2 minutes, and half an hour later in two other places. Thankfully Ron and Hermione had helped him a lot.

He ran his fingers through his short hair grimacing.

Will have to do for now.

Stepping into the bedroom, he reached out to grab a clean t-shirt from his dresser but was surprised when his hand came in contact with… nothing.

"What…"

The dresser wasn't there. It took him a moment to realise that in his anger he had vanished all the furniture in his room except for his bed and that included the dresser with all of his clothes.

"Shit."

As he couldn't do anything at the moment he just dropped his dirty clothes on the ground and jumped in his bed with a groan. He shifted until he was comfortable and dozed off. The nightmares didn't stop and he woke a couple of times sweating and breathing heavily. At one point he must have screamed because his throat became sore. At dawn he gave up on being rested and got up to make breakfast.

Kreacher had wanted to stay and work for 'the great Harry Potter' but after Dobby, Harry couldn't permit that. He had freed him and proposed that Kreacher could work in Hogwarts.

After that, Harry had been all alone in this house. While he was together with Ginny, she sometimes stayed over but not often and it was clear that she didn't really like the house. He couldn't blame her, it was big, dark and dusty. Even after the cleaning that the Order of Phoenix had done, many rooms were untouched dirty and dangerous.

The idea of redecorating the whole house came to him because he was bored out of his mind.

On his way to the kitchen he saw the damage of the day before. Empty spaces where previously had been furniture, some of the things were shattered and one room was full of splinters. He closed the doors to the last room deciding, to worry about it later.

Good thing I didn't use any flame curses.

Once he was in the kitchen, he discovered that he was almost out of food. Barely enough left to fix something nutritious. On a piece of paper he wrote which groceries he needed from the muggle shop and what he needed from Diagon Alley. He scowled. He wasn´t keen on going there but he needed supplies for the planned redecoration.

Not feeling rested in the slightest, which was a well-known feeling, he hoped moving would help. Unhelping with his already sluggish state, the Voice in his head was like a heavy weight veering down on his brain, trying to make him lie down and pity himself for all eternity.

Leaving the table after breakfast he pocketed the list, brushed off his dirty clothes from the day before and braced himself for human interaction. Harry exited Grimmauld Place, wearing his dark cloak concealing his weariness and famous face.

The trip to the groceries store was successful and an hour later Harry was at home stashing away the food. After a minute of hesitation, he left the safety of his house again and apparated to Diagon Alley. Pulling the hood over his head to hide his face, he walked along the cobblestone roads until he found the shop he needed. Walking in, a bell chimed somewhere above him and he was greeted from the main desk.

"Hello there! Welcome! How may we help you today?"

Walking closer to the desk, he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and tried to force a smile.

"I need a consultation about some renovations I'm working on."

The girl nodded and smiled at him her eyes showing weird pity. Harry guessed his attempt at smiling wasn't a success. He followed the girl which led him to a neat looking office.

"Ah, Mister Potter! Welcome to our shop! How are you?" The man wore immaculately cut wizards robes and not a hair out of place as he gestured to a seat.

"Fine, thank you. I was wondering if you could help me…"

They discussed all of the details he wanted to change in Sirius´ house. Talking about his vision took about two hours, but his purchases would arrive the next morning and he contently stood up. After a thousand thank you's, he gave a nod, and left the shop mind still going over his plans.

Making his way further down Diagon Alley Harry stopped in numerous shops to get what had been mentioned in his Hogwarts letter. Walking into Flourish and Blotts, he grabbed all the standard spell books, along with some more tomes on rebuilding and redecorating. One with tips and tricks and the other with some useful little spells, including one that could make the windows of the Grimmauld Place bigger, allowing more light to shine through the darkness of the house.

Plumbing also needs to be redone.

Harry decide that some help might be needed to not blow the ancient house up. He looked around until his eyes registered a small store that looked useful. Entering it, he saw that the little shop was equipped with all kinds of furniture, lamps, and fixtures. Just what he needed. While shopping Harry picked everything he could think of and had it shipped directly to the old Black house. Feeling tired out for the day, Harry apparated back to Grimmauld Place.

Once he was back in his room, he put all his new books and quills, along other purchases into his trunk. Pulling the hooded coat from his body and throwing it onto his bed, he prepared himself to make a call.

Going down the stairs into the drawing room, he kneeled on to the carpet and grabbed up a pinch of Floo powder.

"The Burrow," he said putting his face in the green flames. Harry saw a couch, but no signs of Weasleys. "Hello?" He would have to try again later if they weren't home.

"Yes? Oh, Harry! Come through! Come through!" Molly Weasley's voice filtered through from the other end of their living room. Pulling his head from the fireplace, he stood and stepped over the fire grate before throwing down another pinch of Floo powder and calling out the Weasley home again. Stumbling from their hearth, Harry was engulfed in a warm hug from the redheaded matriarch, who then ushered him into the kitchen.

"Ginny is in London for the day and Ron is out with Hermione. How are you, dear?"

He smiled at the bustling woman and shook the soot from his clothes and hair.

"I'm fine, Mrs. Weasley. Thank you."

She smiled and nodded out to the yard. "Fred and George are here for a visit. They're out in the garden, presumably getting carrots for dinner."

Harry went through the Weasley's kitchen and into the garden. George was crouching in the garden but Fred was sitting on a bench pointing with his finger in George's direction.

"A bit to the left, I think! Oh, Harry! Nice to see you!"

"Hello you two. How's it been?" Harry sat next to Fred, quirking his brow at their antics.

The twins happily spoke about their shop and how well it was doing, telling him that they were going to send him some of their new products soon (what with him being their "silent partner" and all), and he almost laughed. They spoke a bit longer, the twins talking him into helping them set up a prank for when Ron came back home.

Fred was still recovering from a curse that hit him in the Hogwarts battle and George was still missing an ear, but they seemed well. Their business was thriving and they seemed happy. Cautiously, Harry asked if they had any free time to spare to help him with the renovations of Grimmauld Place.

"Maybe on the weekend? How does that sound?" Fred asked his twin with a wink.

"I can't ear you Fred, can you repeat that?"

"It's okay if you're busy, guys. No problem."

The twins looked at him in all seriousness.

"We can make it the next weekend," they said in one voice.

Suddenly, something popped up from the ground beside George and flew to the windows, stunning the three of them as they watched the thing disappear into the house. An irritated shout came from inside and the window flew open to reveal Mrs Weasley, red-faced and covered in confetti and glitter.

"Did we...?" Fred gulped, staring at the angry woman.

"Make a slight clanger with the windows? Yes." George was also looking up, his eyes wide.

"Now, young men, what have I told you about...!"

"Sorry, mum!" They both called up in unison, torn between laughing and cowering.

"Better get those carrots!" Fred whispered to George, who nodded.

Mrs Weasley shook a finger in their direction, mouth set in a thin line, and closed the window. Not long after Mrs. Weasley continued cooking supper, Ron and Hermione arrived at the Burrow with the chiming of the Weasley clock. Mr Weasley arrived when it was already served.

The family ate happily, laughing when Ron's spoon kept running from him and while Fred tried to avoid flying bread chunks. It wasn't long before Ginny came into the chaos as well, smiling and content as she took her seat next to Harry. He had been afraid that they would somehow be awkward now that they weren't together anymore, but as their breakup was mutual, their friendship came back in full force.

After supper, while they were sitting in the living room, catching up with each other, Harry had asked his friends what they thought about the renovations he had in mind.

"Oh Harry! I think it's wonderful!" Hermione gave him a pat on the knee with a large smile.

"It's just what that old place needs, really!" Ron nodded along, slinging his arm over Hermione's shoulders. "Just don't make me clean any more pixy curtains…"

"Don't worry, we can make Fred and George do it," Harry said, leaning his head back against the overstuffed chair, trying to keep his eyes open. "I even bought books earlier to read up about it," he murmured. Immediately he and Ron noticed the light that had entered Hermione's eyes and shook their heads. "We'll help you with whatever you need, Harry!" Hermione was excited, as Harry had actually gone out, and what's more – actually bought books.

"Thanks, guys." He gave a nod.

Ron stretched out his long legs and leaned back. "No problem, mate!"

"We'll start tomorrow! Bright and early!" Hermione beamed at both of them.

Harry and Ron both groaned good-naturedly, not batting an eye when Hermione hit each of their legs with a content complaint.

"Boys…"

Sometime later, standing up from his chair and stretching a bit, Harry bid everyone a fond goodbye before stepping through the hearth and flying through the Floo. Climbing the stairs one at a time, he shed his clothes and crawled into bed, exhausted after his long day. He was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

I had a beta Sarah help me with this chapter for what i am thankful.

feel free to tell me your opinion ^^

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