Information: Canon with DH ending, but not the epilogue (EWE). In this story everyone is given a chance to go back to Hogwarts to finish their 7th year, and explores the aftershock of the Second War. Even in these new times of peace, something manages to go wrong for Harry, and he has to change his whole outlook on everything.

Pairings: Hermione/Ron, Ginny/Harry, leading into Friendship!Harry/Draco. I'm still not sure with this pairing, so we'll just see how it goes

Rating: Upgraded to M because there's going to be some violence.

Its a slow start, I know, but I want to get everything set up right first. Reviews appreciated!

Here we go

Chapter One - Prologue

Harry gave a loud sigh as he let the weight of his body drop down to a slouch. He sat on the edge of an armchair in the living room of the Burrow trying to avoid eye contact with his two best friends sharing the sofa across from him. He had been so weary lately due to a combination of sleepless nights, recurring nightmares, and avoiding the press. Or at least trying to, anyway. Everything was piling up and it had taken its toll on him in the past ten weeks.

"Hermione, I know you mean well, but I just can't," he trailed off as he looked up and saw her pleading eyes. Hermione had not changed at all despite everything that had happened. Her face appeared to be a little hollowed out, thinner now, with shadows under her eyes, but she was still the same insistent person as always.

Hermione flinched, something she had been doing more and more lately, probably bracing for the inevitable negative reaction to follow, likely hoping for any conflict to be quick and painless. Ron put his arm around her waist to comfort her, and Harry saw her release some tension. Those two had grown closer than ever before, but Harry suspected they were only brought together by heartache. Lately that was the main feeling of the Burrow residents, and it was persistently lingering on.

"Harry," Hermione finally spoke up, with a particularly soft voice. She sounded exhausted. "It's the right thing to do."

She lifted her arms in front of her, holding the parchment out for him to take. But Harry didn't take it. Instead he dropped his head to the ground and rested it in the palm of his hand. He knew that she was not going to let up, and he didn't want to be lectured any more. She was right, but Harry had no more strength left to keep fighting. He felt it suited him much better to just carry on in the shadows of the world with only his misery to keep him company. His whole life had lead up to a heartbeat's length of a moment, but it took all of the strength and effort that he had in his heart. Now that it was all over, he just wanted to run away, close the curtains, and sleep forever.

"What do you think, Ron?" he mumbled, head still in his hand as another heavy sigh escaped his breath.

"You know me, mate. I'm with Hermione." Harry could hear shifting that he figured meant they had moved closer together on the sofa. Hermione was a good influence on them.

Obviously defeated by a majority vote, Harry knew that he had no choice but to follow them. Only a year ago he had been ready and willing to set out on his monumental task alone, and just a couple of hours ago he was seriously considering dropping everything and leaving again. He didn't want Ron and Hermione to see him like this, let alone anyone in the wizarding public. Everything would go back to normal and be better if he wasn't a part of it all. But his friends had managed to convince him last year to listen, and if it wasn't for them everyone would probably be dead by now. They were the only real friends he had and he needed them, despite how much he wanted to deny it. What harm would come from listening to them once more? Only good had come from it all so far. But he wouldn't cave in as quickly as they would have liked. If Hermione had realised she'd won, the laughter and chatter would begin, and Harry much preferred the silence. Even with the sad faces, these past few weeks had been golden.

Harry rose slowly from his chair and smiled sullenly at his friends. "I need some more time to think about this," he mumbled, and they nodded. With that, he trudged out of the living room and up the stairs to his room, making a great effort to not turn around and look at the letter still in Hermione's hands.

Harry closed his sore eyes as he lay on his bed. The bed formerly belonging to Fred. He now shared the room with ex-twin George, an arrangement thought up by Hermione who didn't want Harry and George to be left alone for fear of a trip to St. Mungo's. Even though the two wizards rarely saw each other and scarcely spoke, there was some quiet comfort in the other's presence, and Harry was content with that.

The Burrow seemed more crowded now than it ever had before, with the single exception of Bill and Fleur's wedding. It was the one moment that Harry kept recalling while he brooded. The wedding had been the last time he saw everyone together, trying to be happy. Meanwhile, Harry was disguised as a Weasley and trying desperately to find the right moment to slip away and embark on the one adventure he was certain there was no return from. His mind was in a shambles back then just as much as it was now, and he knew in the pit of his stomach that these happy memories were just forced smiles and glancing over shoulders. Worst of all, it was all because of him.

Naturally, Harry did not speak to anyone of his grievances. They all had their own problems to deal with, and he knew they'd try to reassure him rather than actually listen. After all, everything was over now. But it wasn't, not really. If everything was finished, folded neatly into a tidy package, why did he still feel so terrible? It was times like this when he wished he could walk across the room and stroke Hedwig in her cage, but he couldn't. She was gone. And so were so many other people, most of whom he cherished. For one, he was lying atop Fred's bed… his bed now, almost as if Fred never existed in the first place. Then there was Dobby and Dumbledore. Snape also flickered into his mind; the one man whom he had misjudged so gravely, for whom he had new respect. Harry wished the plot had been revealed sooner, to have a chance to try to not hate the real man behind that veil of greasy black hair and treacherous sneers. But it was too little, too late. Respect was gained, but the hate was still there. A similar problem existed for so many people, so many who died just after Harry found there had been a chance for a connection. Fate must have laughed ecstatically as it plucked one person after another from his grasp as they revealed themselves to him. Mad Eye, Sirius, Lupin, Tonks. All martyrs, leaving behind questions that could never be answered. Mad Eye could have been a great mentor; Sirius, a godfather. Lupin and Tonks left behind a son in very much the same legacy as Harry. He knew only too well how difficult it would be for that child to grow up without parents. Even after all this time, it still hurt to think of his own parents. They were the first casualties at the pivotal point where the first war ended, and the second began. Two generations, two wars. Harry's only wishes were that all the fighting could stop and everything can slow down to a halt. Everyone needed time to properly grieve for their loved ones; Harry needed to grieve for his whole life.

Barely any time had passed since his last battle, and already he was being presented with another one. It was a challenge that he had to undertake, and even though he had already decided he would go ahead with it, Harry could only feel angry and scared. He silently cursed that he couldn't just take some time off and let his head cool. If I don't stand up and face it, I'll only get buried in letters. Just like when I first found out about the wizarding world, he though bitterly. Two and a half months was certainly not a long enough break, and in a cruel irony, it was Hogwarts that had persisted again, sending him one last owl.