Warning: This fic is not completed and is likely to stay that way. Feel free to read anyway, but know you will be left with a cliff hanger.

Prolog

"I've got to go back, haven't I?"

Harry stared up into the soft blue eyes he'd so missed. Suddenly, the realization that he'd have to leave Dumbledore again hit him like cold water. A kind smile made it's way onto the older man's face.

"That, my boy, is up to you."

"I've got a choice?"

"Oh yes. We all have a choice, Harry." He explained quietly. "Did you say we are at Kings Cross?"

Harry nodded, biting his lip.

"Well, you must decide. Do you want to...board...the train?"

"But where will it take me?"

"To the next great adventure."

Harry folded his hands in his lap. For the first time that year, he felt peaceful. This dreamlike world he was in seemed to calm all his nerves like snow muffling sound.

"Sir, if I go on, will I see my parents and Sirius?"

Dumbledore stroked his beard with his hand, which was no longer black and charred, and looked thoughtfully at Harry. After a moment, he sighed.

"There are some questions even I cannot answer. But, right now, I think the question you should be asking is: do the rewards of moving on out-way those of going back?"

Breathing deeply, Harry rubbed his scar which had stopped hurting completely. Did he want to go back? Back to war, death, and pain? He glanced at the shining Hogwarts Express. Never before had a place looked so welcoming. So homelike.

"You still have a job to do, Harry." Dumbledore reminded quietly.

"Do I, sir?" Harry found himself asking. "I mean, I was the last horcrux. By now, Neville will have killed Nagini and Voldemort will be mortal again. Can't someone else-"

"Ah. An excellent question. Can't someone else. But, sadly Harry, another to which I have no answer."

Harry sucked in a breath.

"I want to go on."

For a moment, Dumbledore's eyes held a look of disappointment but he quickly smiled. "Then go, my boy. Board the train. I hope we will see each other again someday."

Potter felt completely peaceful in his decision, but still his knees shook. Each step felt like ten. When, at last, he reached the train, he paused. He looked behind him, but Dumbledore was gone. So, he stepped on board. The way he had for the first time all those years ago. When going to Hogwarts felt like an adventure. When he was still a child.

And the train sped away, with him on it, for the last time.

Onto the next great adventure.

...

"Today. He died a year ago today." Ginny Weasley's shaking voice broke through the silence of the room.

"A lot of people died a year ago today, Ginny." Hermione replied shortly, not looking up from the loaf of bread she was slicing.

"Harry. Today is the anniversary of his death." She looked around the small, dark room. It was the attic of an abandoned farmhouse which had once belonged to a family of muggles. They, like so many others, had been murdered by Voldemort's death eaters Now, their home acted as a temporary shelter for a small group of fugitives. Luna, Ron, Ginny, and Hermione had been the original four but being on the run since the war had caused them to pick up one more: Dennis Creevey. They had found him hiding in the woods after his parents had been taken captive. He had attempted to fight off the death eaters himself but had failed, earning himself a broken right arm and an ugly scar.

"For goodness sake, will someone please look at me?" Ginny snapped, her face pale and pinched. "I'm right, aren't I? Harry did-"

"Not just Harry!" Ron suddenly turned from the window he'd been boarding up to glare at his sister. "Not just Harry. Fred, George, Charlie, Mum-"

"Mum and Dad were only captured!"

"But use your brain, Ginny. Why the Hell wouldn't they kill two blood traitors?"

"I was just saying-"

"Well, please don't 'just say' anything. Bloody Hell, don't you think we're upset enough? But to answer your question, yes! I know it's the anniversary. Happy?"

There was a moment of silence filled only by Ron's heavy breathing.

"I...I'm going to look for some...food." Ginny whispered hoarsely and without another word, she disappeared down the ladder.

"Completely mental." Ron muttered, laying another board over the window. For a moment, Hermione looked as though she was going to scold him, but seemed to think the better of it. Pressing her lips together, she continued slicing the bread. After a moment, the ladder began to creak and Luna's white-blond head appeared, followed by Dennis' tiny one.

"We put up the protective charms." She informed them happily, falling into the thread bared couch in the corner.

"Well, good for you. Let's all applaud, shall we?" Ron lashed out sarcastically.

"Ron!" Hermione finally gave in. She strode across the room and promptly slapped him across the face. For a moment, he simply stood, stunned, clutching his cheek with his hand. Then, without a moment of hesitation, he collapsed into Hermione's arms.

"I'm sorry." He whispered into her neck, "I really am. It's just, with everything-"

"Shhhh." She soothed, rubbing his back. "Shhh. I know."

"We've lost so many people. Harry, Fred, George, Dean, Collin."

"Neville."

They all turned and looked at Luna. Her face, which usually held a vague, pleasant look, was now strained and white. Releasing Ron, Hermione walked to sit beside Luna.

"Well, we only assume Neville is dead, Luna. We didn't actually see him fall. And he is pure blood." She took Luna's hand. "Come on. Let's go find Ginny. Dennis?"

The three of them left and Ron returned to his project at the window. But, as he drove a nail through the splintering wood, he whispered aloud, "Why did you have to die, Harry?"

A/N Hello, you fabulous human! Thank you for reading. Please review, follow, and favorite, but especially that first one. ;)

Update: The ships in this story are Romione and Luneville. I'm adding this note because a lot of people have started to read, hoping for Druna or Dramione. While Draco is one of the main characters of this story, I chose not to ship him with anyone, as I thought it would distract from his story arch.