Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

The Path to the Platform

Home

May 1998

The Boy Who Lived was drowning.

Raucous exclamations of victory commingled with the choking sobs of unbearable grief. Everywhere Harry turned, he could see people: friends, family, strangers. He just wanted to get away and be alone with the people he cared about most, yet it seemed as if everyone demanded his attention. Harry could feel the exhaustion setting in, yet he wanted to offer an explanation to the people who meant the most to him at this moment.

Harry found himself sitting next to Luna, she leaned over and whispered in his ear offering the gracious gift of a distraction. Harry took advantage and slipped his Cloak over his head.

He stood and scanned the Great Hall for Ron and Hermione. He crouched between them and told them to come with him. Despite his exhaustion, Harry was happy to see that as they stood, the clasped each other's hands. Once out of the Great Hall, Harry took off the Cloak and kept it under his arm.

The trio made their way to what Harry would always know as Dumbledore's office. Once there, Harry explained to Dumbledore's portrait, Ron and Hermione how he would ensure that no one would ever be tempted by the Elder Wand again.

After repairing his trusty holly and phoenix feather wand, Harry turned to his friends: "I think a good night's sleep in Gryffindor tower would do me well." They both nodded and followed him out of the headmaster's office and along the familiar (yet scarred) corridor to Gryffindor tower.

The Fat Lady portrait was singed in several locations, but overall had seemed to escape the fate of other paintings in the castle. Harry was a little embarrassed when the Fat Lady started to clap her hands and weep when she saw him. "May we go up," he asked as she finished her display of gratitude. She nodded enthusiastically and the portrait door swung open. Harry, Ron and Hermione made their way into the familiar and deserted common room. Without another word, the trio silently went up the stairs of towards the boy's dormitory. Harry moved to the nearest bed and collapsed. Within moments he was asleep.

"Harry," a harsh whisper breathed against his neck.

Immediately alarmed, Harry jumped up with a start. Thankfully, his past year of hunting down Horcruxes whilst hiding in the woods prevented him from calling out.

"Shh, shh," Ginny breathed onto his face as she pushed back his hair. "It's just me. Don't be afraid. I just wanted to see you. I knew you would be up here," she whispered with the slightest tinge of pride.

Still hardly awake, Harry reached for his wand. "Cave inimicum," he whispered. When Ginny sent him a questioning look, he mumbled something about privacy.

Harry angled himself into a seated position which allowed Ginny to move from atop him. He reached for his glasses.

"How are you doing-" they both started simultaneously. Harry nodded towards her indicating that he wanted her to speak first.

"I needed to see. I needed to make sure you were okay. You were there and then you disappeared in the Great Hall. I just needed to make sure you hadn't left again." She blurted out her feelings quickly. Her brown eyes searched his. Harry thought to himself that he was going to have to work a long time at proving to Ginny that he did not plan to leave her for a long time if he could help it.

"I'm fine," he mumbled. "I just needed to get away from everyone, talk to Ron and Hermione. I also just needed some rest." He finished lamely. Harry looked around the dormitory for Ron. He was surprised to see that Ron and Hermione were sleeping in the same four poster bed next to him. Ron's arms protectively draped over Hermione. Harry must have fallen asleep before the pair had even laid down. Harry was grateful that he had instinctively cast the protection charm that made he and Ginny invisible and silent to the rest of the world.

"Mum was worried," Ginny said. Harry could see that Mrs. Weasley had not been the only person who was worried about the trio.

"I'm sorry. I just needed some peace and quiet before dealing with everything. How are you doing?" Harry quickly changed the subject, ashamed that while she had stayed with her family and helped in the Great Hall, he had run to Gryffindor tower.

"I don't know," she answered honestly. "Mum and Dad and everyone else are sleeping in the Great Hall. They've put sleeping bags in there so all the families can stay together." Harry could detect the emotional shock in her voice. It seemed as if she was still far away from being able to describe her own feelings regarding the battle.

"How is everyone," Harry asked cautiously.

"They're all over the place. Mum just wants everyone close. She was panicking when she couldn't find Ron, you and Hermione. But Dad got her to calm down and fall asleep. Dad is stoic for the moment. George and Percy are not doing well. Both are just too quiet. Bill and Fleur are holding everyone together, they're Mum's rocks. And Charlie just wants to get away. I think it's too much for him. He's always needed to be outside and be free. He knows he needs to be here, but-" her voice trailed off.

It was a lot of information for Harry to digest. He felt guilty for having disappeared with Ron without telling the Weasleys where they were going. After a year of running from place to place, it was unusual for him to tell people his whereabouts.

"I just can't believe he is gone," Ginny finally whispered. Harry watched as Ginny's eyes filled with tears. He quickly leaned across the bed and hugged her. He felt the tension leave her body as his arms surrounded her. Ginny slipped out of the hug. "I've missed you," she said as she grabbed Harry's face between her hands. "You've no idea how much I've missed you," she leaned in and kissed him squarely on the lips.

She felt so familiar, Harry thought. Her lips tasted the same as they had in July. So much had changed since then, but it seemed as if the two of them being together had changed so little.

Ginny deepened the kiss. Her tongue brushed against Harry's lips. Harry eagerly opened his mouth, their tongues entwining at the point where they connected. Harry moved his hands into her hair. He felt her do the same. Harry found himself unconsciously angling back down to the bed moving to a horizontal position. Ginny followed his lead and she shifted her weight on top of him.

Ginny lifted her head up for air. Harry took the opportunity to trace kisses from her mouth to her neck, pushing her tee shirt to the side to teasingly kiss her collarbone. She gasped at the sensation of lips on her neck. She pulled his face back towards her, and they began deeply kissing again. Harry lost track of time as he lost himself in the feeling of Ginny's closeness.

Their snog session ended when Harry looked out the dormitory window and noticed the night sky had changed from black to a dark purple.

"Ginny, it's almost morning," Harry whispered. "We have to stop."

Ginny sat up on the bed looking sheepish. "I better sneak back down to the Great Hall. Mum'll have a hippogriff if I'm not there when she wakes up."

Ginny kissed Harry once more on the lips as she stood up and straightened her hair.

"I'll see you soon," Harry whispered.

"You better," Ginny returned with a serious look in her face. Harry waited until Ginny has tiptoed across the boy's dormitory before he removed the protection charm from his four poster bed. He laid back down and looked up at the ceiling.

He began to smile, but then he remembered the dead bodies located in a classroom somewhere. How could he be so happy and grieve for so many simultaneously?

Harry leaned back in his bed. He may have been the wizard who killed Voldemort, but he was also a boy just shy of eighteen who had just made out with a beautiful girl in Gryffindor tower.

He had the rest of his life to figure out how to deal with his grief and this new world he had in part created, but right now, he wanted to lay in bed and remember Ginny's lips as the sun rose on a new day.

"Wake up, you wanker," Harry heard as a pillow hit him squarely in the face.

"Ron!" Hermione scolded from across the room.

"You're one to talk," Harry mumbled back as he lobbed the pillow back at his best mate. "Did you two sleep all right?" Harry asked the question trying to keep a straight face. Harry was a bit disappointed that he had not woken up early enough to catch the two of them sharing a bed.

"Yes," Hermione squeaked as her face turned a light shade of pink. "How about you Harry?"

Harry replied in the positive as he smiled to himself. His night had not included as much sleep as he expected, but it had still been wonderful.

"I figured we should head down to the Great Hall. We've been up here hiding long enough," Hermione said as she made Harry's bed while he stood and stretched.

"We weren't hiding Hermione. We will never have the hide again," Harry finished. He placed his glasses back on his face and grabbed Hermione's arm and headed down the dormitory stairs.

"Oi, wait up," Ron called. Harry could hear him stumble as he shoved his feet into his trainers.

The trio made their way down the stairs and out of the common room. It was with slowness and trepidation as they moved closer to the Great Hall. None of the teenagers were prepared for what greeted them.

The sleeping bags must have been cleared. The long house tables had returned, but just like last night, no one was sitting according to their house. People began whispering to their neighbors when Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

Harry did not see it begin, but soon, everyone in the Great Hall was standing and applauding the three. Harry put his head down with embarrassment. He did not want the thanks, he just wanted to join the Weasleys and eat some breakfast.

Ron seemed to revel in the applause for a moment, but also as the tallest of the three, he was the only one who had a clear sight line to the Weasleys. Ron navigated the trio over to the front of what was normally the Hufflepuff table.

"Ronald, where were you last night," Mrs. Weasley exclaimed as she wrapped Ron in a tight hug. Harry once more saw Hermione blush slightly at Mrs. Weasley's question. "Where were all of you?" Mrs. Weasley asked as she hugged each of the three tightly.

"We slept in Gryffindor tower," Harry answered with a shrug. As he sat down for breakfast, he realized how strong his appetite had grown.

Harry had sat between George and Ginny. Silently, George passed Harry the pitcher of pumpkin juice. His eyes were red and swollen, and his face lacked his characteristic grin. It was almost too real for Harry to see George in this way.

Ginny smiled slowly at Harry, and he felt her hand rest gently on his thigh. He hoped no one else noticed the intimate way they touched, but another part of him felt incredibly grateful towards Ginny. Her physical reminder of how close they had been last night allowed a part of Harry to not feel guilty about Fred's death and the loss the family faced.

Breakfast seemed to go slowly. Mrs. Weasley, Mr. Weasley and Bill were discussing funeral arrangements and when they would return to the Burrow. It seemed as if Harry and Hermione's accompanying the family home was taken as a given.

Harry studied Charlie remembering how Ginny had described how he did not know the second eldest Weasley son very well. Charlie looked antsy and his muscles were tense. It seemed as if he wanted to do nothing more than to leave the Great Hall and walk around somewhere.

"We should be able to leave by this evening," Mrs. Weasley stated as she heaped even more bacon onto Harry's plate.

Harry sputtered into his pumpkin juice. Ginny helpfully patted him on his back. He had not expected to be leaving so early. He would have been content to stay at Hogwarts for several more days. Doing what, he had no idea, but he just did not yet feel ready to leave this place. Ginny's frantic patting turned into gentle rubbing. Harry focused on her hand moving up and down his back rather than his panic at going back to the Burrow.

It was strange: the Burrow had always been a place of comfort and safety, but it now seemed strange and foreign. Everything seemed - and was - different.

"There will be a lot of work to do on the house. I have no idea what state it will be in since we haven't been there for so long," Mrs. Weasley continued to think aloud.

Ron groaned across the table, but Mrs. Weasley sent him a scathing look. "We have to prepare for the funeral. There will be so much to get done," Mrs. Weasley scoffed. Her voice wavered only slightly. She had a mission to prepare her home, and that would keep her going as long as possible. Ginny may have described Bill and Fleur as the rocks, but Harry knew that Mrs. Weasley was keeping everything together by sheer will power. After having seen her fight yesterday and organize the family's movements today; Harry would never underestimate Mrs. Weasley again.

"How is Fred getting home," George choked out from his place next to Harry.

"Don't you worry about that, we've got everything under control." Fleur gently told George. She patted his hand as she spoke to him.

The discussions of the funeral were making everything feel so much more real. "Excuse me, there are some things I have to get done before we leave," Harry mumbled an excuse as he stood up. Ron and Hermione looked at him knowingly. Ginny caught Harry's hand as he stood up. She seemed reluctant to let it go. "I'll be back soon," Harry whispered to her. She finally let go of his hand.

He needed to find Professor McGonagall. Harry did not want to wander down to the Dumbledore's grave without someone who knew what he was doing. He had one last task, and then he could begin to put all of this behind him and begin his new life.

Harry realized he should have asked Hermione for the Marauder's Map. It would have made finding Professor McGonagall much easier. As such, Harry had to check places he would have rather left undisturbed. He found the room where the bodies were being kept. Each body was covered completed with a white sheet. He could not tell who was who, but it pained Harry to see the tens of people who had given their life. He knew many were underage, and it was painfully obvious that all had families who loved them.

He had a moment where he felt as if he could not breath. There were so many people in here. There was so much death and so much pain. Harry was finally able to breath again, but now he was breathing too fast. His heart felt like it was going to pound out of his chest. He had to sit down. He put his head between his knees and he tried to steady his breathing. However, the more he focused on his breathing, the harder time he had trying to control it.

"Potter - are you okay," Professor McGonagall asked Harry. She lowered herself to his level. "Harry, just focus on my voice, focus on breathing. Calm yourself down and remember that you are okay." Harry did as she told him, and he found himself calming down.

Once he was able to breathe normally, he looked up at Professor McGonagall sheepishly. "I'm sorry Professor."

"No need to apologize Mr. Potter. It happens to all of us. Ms. Weasley told me you were looking for me."

Remember what he had to do, Harry stood up and dusted off his jeans. "Yes, I, uh, I need to open Dumbledore's grave. There is something I need to leave in it."

Professor McGonagall looked hesitant at first. "It has something to do with what Professor Dumbledore left for me to do, what I've been doing all year," he finished lamely. This seemed to satisfy Professor McGonagall's curiosity and she nodded knowingly.

Professor McGonagall led the way outside of the castle and down to the Great Lake. Harry followed quietly and reached for the Elder Wand he had kept in his back pocket.

"We'll need to open it," Harry said quietly to Professor McGonagall when they arrived at the White Tomb.

Professor McGonagall lifted her wand and the tomb raised up. Harry tried to not think about how morbid this was. She moved her wand again and the white stone covering Dumbledore's coffin began to move aside. Soon, Dumbledore's lifeless body was exposed.

With cautious trepidation, Harry moved towards the tomb. He tried not to look at Dumbledore as he placed the wand back in his former headmaster's hands, but of course that was impossible. Magic had to be involved because Dumbledore looked exactly the way he had a year ago. Harry had never wanted this memory of him, but here he was again. He quickly put the Elder Wand in between the cold, clasped hands. Harry then jumped down from the tomb and nodded towards Professor McGonagall. She raised he wand again, and the tomb quickly returned to normal.

"Professor," Harry started as the pair began to walk back to the castle. "Professor Snape's body is in the Shrieking Shack. There is something in the Pensieve in the headmaster's office that I think you should see. Then I think someone should retrieve Professor Snape's body."

Professor McGonagall nodded as she listened to Harry. A part of her reaction seemed apprehensive, but Harry hoped that she would listen to him. "Potter, we all have so much to thank you for. If there is anything I - or anyone from Hogwarts - can do for you, know that I will be here," she said emotionally.

Harry nodded his head. It was his hope that Professor McGonagall and the other surviving teachers would stay and make this place whole again. He wanted future generations to be able to escape to Hogwarts as he had done. A thought entered Harry's mind that shocked him. His godson, Teddy, would be another generation of Voldemort's orphans who would probably escape to Hogwarts when he was age. Here, he would be able to learn about his father and live in the school where his parents had gone and had died defending.

"Thank you Professor, for everything," Harry finished lamely. He did not know what he could say that would actually capture everything that Professor McGonagall had done for him.

The pair reached their castle. Harry wanted to find Ginny. He nodded his goodbye to Professor McGonagall and made his way to the Great Hall again. To his dismay, the Weasleys were not in the Great Hall. However, Harry quickly found himself accosted by the people who were there. It seemed as if everyone wanted to talk to him, to thank him, to ask how he was doing, and to talk about the loved ones they had lost.

It was quickly too much for Harry. His desperation for find Ginny - or any of the Weasley's - was growing exponentially.

"Erm - excuse me please," Harry mumbled to a tall wizard who was discussing in incredible detail how he had taken out a Death Eater. "I just need to use the loo," Harry mumbled his pathetic excuse under his breath. He turned to leave the Great Hall and as he left, he found himself wishing again that he would have asked Hermione for the Marauder's map.

He made he way to the only place he had been alone in the past two days: Gryffindor tower.

The Fat Lady again went through her theatrics and weepy gratitude when she saw him, but she opened the door and let him inside. Harry was greeted with the Weasleys. Bill, Fleur, Mrs. Weasley and Mrs. Weasley were at the fire apparently flooing someone. The rest of the family members were scattered around the common room sitting silently or engaged in quiet conversation.

Ron and Hermione walked up to Harry, "We were wondering when you would find us. We couldn't stay in the Great Hall anymore. Everyone started asking so many questions about you and where we've been for the past year. Neville said that there are already a ton of reporters in Hogsmeade trying to make it to the castle. Mum and Dad are just trying to get some final arrangements ready." Ron explained to Harry. Harry nodded, finding himself suddenly exhausted again.

"I think I'll go upstairs for another nap before we leave," Harry said with a yawn.

Hermione nodded. "George is up there," she said quietly. Harry just nodded gratefully to her.

He did not want to walk in on George having an emotional moment, but he desperately needed to rest before he could go back down and rejoin the Weasleys.

Thankfully, when he opened the door to the dormitory, George was sleeping - or at least feigning sleep. Harry walked over to the four poster bed he had claimed last night and turned the covers down. He found himself quickly drifting off to sleep as soon as his head touched the pillow.

Harry woke up to Ginny shaking him up. "Harry, it's time to go. Mum sent me up." Harry groggily blinked his eyes. He looked to the bed where George had been, but he was now gone.

Without thinking too much about it, Harry sat up in bed and quickly kissed Ginny. She seemed a bit shocked at first but kissed him back. He pulled back from her. "Are you ready to go home?"

She laughed nervously. "As ready as I'll ever be, I'm sure. I'm ready for everything to feel a bit different. I think everyone is. I'm glad that you'll be there," she smiled at him shyly.

Harry stole another kiss. He was ready to go home too.

The Weasleys, Harry and Hermione had walked to the edge of the Hogwarts grounds in order to apparate the Burrow. Because of the protective charms, the family had to apparate to the edge of the Burrow's property and walk the rest of the way.

Immediately, they were surrounding by flashing lights and pushy reporters. Harry felt again as if he were drowning in a sea of people.

"Mr. Potter - can you describe exactly how you killed He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?"

"Mr. Weasley, what is Mr. Potter like to travel with?"

Ms. Granger, are you and Mr. Weasley officially an item, or were you caught in a love triangle between your two best friends?"

"What will you do now that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is dead?"

"Will you go back to school?"

Harry was overwhelmed and uncomfortable at the questions being thrown at him. Ron and Hermione also appeared uncomfortable. Bill and Charlie pushed the reporters out the way. The family insulated the trio and moved them closer to the Burrow. The reporters made disappointed noises as the trio disappeared behind the protective enchantments.

"What are we going to do about those vultures?" Mrs. Weasley screeched. "How are we supposed to have a funeral if guests can't even get past our front lane?"

"It's okay mum. We'll send Ron and Hermione to snog in front of them and that'll send them running for the hills," George mumbled quietly.

Ron and Hermione's early immediately turned bright shades or red. The rest of the family stared at George. Harry was the first to laugh and then the rest of the family joined in with shades of nervous laughter.

Harry smiled to himself as they all walked to the Burrow.

George was going to be alright.

The grief would come in waves with moments that were more difficult than others. Harry remembered how it had felt to lose Sirius and then Dumbledore. It had hurt, but it had also been a chance to remember the best of both of them. While he could not imagine what it was like to lose a son or a brother, he could imagine that the premise was quite the same. The shock of the loss commingled with the resurgence of the best memories. The reality of not being able to make new, better memories with Fred was painful, but it made the past memories even more cherished.

The family walked into the Burrow which was filled with the distinct evidence of having sat vacant for weeks. Harry immediately felt guilty that the family had been forced to leave the Burrow and head for Aunt Muriel's. However, within moments of entering the home, Mrs. Weasley had it feeling as if they had never left. A fire roared to life in the fireplace, the kitchen began to clean itself, abandoned knitting rose to life and started forming stitches. Lights were magically turned on.

"Dinner will be ready soon," Mrs. Weasley called through the house. Harry could smell slightly earthy scent of vegetables being prepared.

"Come with me," Ginny whispered into Harry's ear. He had not even noticed that she had snuck behind him. He smiled as he followed her outside to the garden.

Once they were free from the house, Ginny grabbed Harry's hand and swung it as the moved outside. Harry was grateful for the charms that kept them hidden from the reporters who were still waiting eagerly in the lane.

"You seem happy," Harry said cautiously. While he knew the family was still grieving, it seemed as if all the Weasleys were filled with a moment of joy and relief to be home and to see that the Burrow had been untouched by dark magic.

"I wouldn't say happy so much as relieved." Ginny mused aloud. "It hurts more, Fred not being here, but it also feels normal at the same time. The Burrow is so constant, it's less painful to remember him here than it was to think about him at Hogwarts. And I'm here, for good, I don't feel any sense of danger or worry anymore. I'm okay…. We're okay," Ginny finished. Harry could hear as she held back tears as she talked about Fred. He had also heard her nervous trepidation when she had used referred to them as we, and Harry knew she did not mean the Weasleys, but rather he and Ginny.

"I'm happy to be home too," Harry said gently. Ginny stopped walking and turned to look at him. She stood on tiptoes as she pulled his face down to hers. The kissed quickly but passionately. It felt so wonderful to be back at the Burrow's garden with a gentle spring evening breeze blowing the smell of Ginny into his face.

The pair parted as Mrs. Weasley's call that dinner was ready sounded from the house. They eagerly jogged hand in hand to sit down to dinner with the entire family.

Hermione Granger awoke in the middle of the night after an intense nightmare involving the Cruciatus curse and Bellatrix Lestrange.

She unconsciously rubbed the spot on her neck which still had the slight red glaring scar across the pale skin.

Hermione did not want to wake Ginny who was sleeping peacefully in her bed. As quietly as possible, Hermione got up from the camp bed and made her way down the Burrow stairs. She would get a glass of warm milk in the hopes that it would chase her nightmares away.

She was shocked to see Mrs. Weasley sitting at the long table in the kitchen weeping by candlelight over a round object she held in her hands. "Mrs. Weasley, what is wrong?" Hermione exclaimed. She immediately felt like a moron. Mrs. Weasley had just lost a son, had lost several friends, had seen her children's lives threatened, had her son returned to her after he had been missing for a year. Mrs. Weasley had several things in her life wrong. It was perfectly acceptable that she would weep at her kitchen table in the middle of the night.

Silently, Mrs. Weasley laid the round object down on the table so that Hermione could see what had made her so upset.

It was the clock. The nine gold hands glinted in the light cast from the candle. Seven of the hands were pointed to "bed." The hand with Mrs. Weasley's name engraved on it pointed to "kitchen." But Hermione immediately noticed what had caused Mrs. Weasley such anguish. The hand with Fred's name engraved on it was clearly pointed to the word "home."

"Oh, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione breathed. She turned to the older woman and wrapped her in a tight hug. Hermione felt tears fall down her face as she the older woman sobbed into her embrace.

A/N: This is a note to readers who have encountered this story before. It is both an apology and an explanation.

I apologize for the two-plus year hiatus. It was never my plan. But life works in mysterious ways, and shortly after my last update, my family was swept up in a world of grief and life changes. I also embarked on my last year of college, which was amazing, but also much more difficult than I had anticipated.

I'm now working at a boring job where I put in too many hours into things that I don't want to do. I stumbled across my FanFiction account the other weekend after binge watching ABC Family's (I know, it's changed to FreeForm - I'm in denial) Harry Potter weekend. I had forgotten how much I loved HP and how much the story meant to me. These characters guided me through a tough childhood, and there were many days when Harry, Hermione, and the Weasleys were the only loving family I saw.

Two years later, I like to tell myself that I know a lot more about love, loss, and family. I know more about what it is like to give up what you want for your family and the betterment of someone. I know what it is like to be a friend and to miss someone and care for them with all that you are.

I re-read "The Path to the Platform" last weekend. I still liked the bones, but there is so much that I wanted to change. I wanted to take more time, make the narrative slower. I want to live with these characters and let the readers live with these characters as they move from teenagers to young adults. I want to let them experience grief and the confusing emergence of happiness through grief. So, I'll be rewriting "The Path to the Platform" and making adjustments.

It is my hope that this story will surpass the seventeen years between the end of the Battle of Hogwarts and the trio's arrival to King's Cross Station, but I will see where it goes.

I will do my best to update weekly, but I want to put more thought and more effort this time around.

I look forward to your reviews, and I hope that you appreciate the changes as much as I enjoy making them. If you've read this before, I encourage you to start again. It will be a completely different story, but it will still have many of my ideas.

Thank you readers.