Hey, guys! I wrote this story like two years ago and I decided to rewrite it. It's just a revamp - hopefully it's better than the original. Enjoy!

(I DON'T OWN HARRY POTTER.)

The stairs groaned under his weight as Harry made his way down to the kitchen. The hallways were dark and he carried his wand on him but couldn't garner the effort to cast lumos, so he grazed his fingertips against the peeling wallpaper as he passed by. It was late at night, he could tell from the screaming stillness of his surroundings, and he wished that he could just fall back to sleep. So what if it wouldn't be actually restful? At least it took him away from life for a little while. The war was over, yes, but it was still on his mind. Tonks is dead. Remus is dead. Fred is dead.

Sirius is dead.

The veil was so close to his mind even now, two years later. He never got his answers about what it all meant. About why he had to lose his godfather. About why he had to cause so much death in order to win a damn war that he never wanted.

The kitchen doorway was spilling dull light into the corridor and Harry realized that he was stupid to have thought that he was the only one awake. From where he stood, he could see Hermione and Ron sitting at the table, heads leant against one another and cold cups of tea in front of them, and Ginny sitting atop the counter, her legs dangling from it and her eyes concentrated on her feet. He stepped closer to the entrance of the room and the creak of the floorboard brought them all to attention - Ron was standing protectively in front of Hermione who had grabbed her wand from her hair and Ginny held tightly onto the frying pan that previously sat on the stove top.

No one said anything. A collective sigh of relief blew through their lips when they recognized Harry, but the only interaction was a poor attempt at a smile from Hermione. There was nothing to talk about - not in the middle of the night so soon after the horrors they experienced. So they all took back their seats, Harry settling himself on the floor in front of Ginny's legs, and sat together until the sun began to rise.

When Hermione finally spoke, it was scratchy and bitter. "How the hell did we get here?" She picked her head up from Ron's shoulder and looked at the three people around her.

"I don't know, Mione. I don't know." Ron muttered next to her, his eyes closed in his pursuit to not think about it all.

"We were always headed here." Ginny spoke, almost inaudibly, as if it was some deep dark secret. They all turned to look at her, a way to encourage her to talk more. "Think about it. Really think about it. Ron and I? We're Weasleys. If the two of us weren't marked as the world's biggest blood traitors from the moments we came into the world, then we aren't all sitting here right now. And Hermione's muggleborn. She had no choice in her part of this. No amount of keeping her head down could have saved her from this. She was marked when she got her letter - she was a target for being alive. And Harry - you were the Chosen One. Your path was never easy and it was never meant to be. You were shoved into this mess head first and no amount of trying to hide from it could have saved you from your destiny." Ginny took a deep breath and muttered, "We were always bloody headed here."

Harry swallowed the lump in his throat and got up to make tea. He fiddled with the appliances for longer than necessary, taking the time to recollect himself. He set cups down in front of everyone and Hermione grabbed his arm as he started to turn away. "Thank you, Harry."

Harry grimaced in response and took a seat across from Ron at the table. Ginny pushed off of the counter and sat down next to Harry. Her fingers wound with his under the table and she squeezed his hand in hers before letting go.

"Thank you, Harry", she paused. "Thank you for all of this. For the tea, for the support, even though it's killing you too. And mostly, thank you for letting us stay here. I don't know where we would have gone if not for here. We shouldn't be around for too much longer, though. Dad said the progress on the house has come a long way. It's almost safe enough for all of us to go and help. "

"It's no problem, Gin." She smiled genuinely at him before rising from the bench.

"Mom will be up soon to start on breakfast, guys. We should try and convince her that we actually got some sort of sleep last night." Everyone nodded their assent and stood up.

"It's been two weeks, guys. We need to start living. And don't think I'm cruel or that I'm forgetting everyone we lost. It's just-we can't spend all of our days making up for sleepless nights. There's plenty for us to do. And the distraction could be nice." Hermione stretched her back as she spoke and then reached out to Ron. He took her hand in his and pulled her closer.

"We made it two weeks. Let's make it two more." Hermione smiled at Ron as he spoke, and then she started listing off things they could do. Her chatter followed all of them back to their rooms. Apparently, she had had time to think.

A year later after Harry and Ron had settled in at the auror offices, and Hermione and Ginny returned from school, they sat again at the table in Grimmauld Place. The house was in much better condition now, and the Burrow had too been restored to it's former glory. After the night in the kitchen, the four of them had started to fix up and renovate the old mansion like they had back when Sirius was alive. Hermione had been right about the distraction being nice, and the only room that they had left the same was Sirius' old bedroom.

Harry and Ron were now living in Sirius' old house, but it felt far more like a home to them now. Mrs. Weasley was disappointed when the boys had decided to stay there instead of moving back to the Burrow, but she visited when she could, and still fed them dinner most nights. With Hermione's return from Hogwarts, she was planning to move in soon.

The room was silent once more as if repeating the same instance as the year past, but the silence wasn't so empty any more. The small smiles that everyone wore made the room feel warmer, and the lack of speaking was welcomed.

"We made it a year, guys. Let's make it one more." Ron recited as they all sipped on their tea. They smiled and sipped from their mugs, the darkness that had once settled on their shoulders brushed off and the future on their minds.