Chapter One - Waking Up

He rolled over, and there was a loud crunch - chest throbbing in pain, Harry James Potter woke up in a pool of his own blood.

The source of the noise was a piece of mirror, now shattered into hundreds of even more jagged pieces. But it wasn't just any mirror; it was the piece of the mirror Sirius had given him, the mirror that had saved his life multiple times, the mirror Aberforth Dumbledore had the other piece of, hanging in the Hog's Head. He'd slept with it every night since…

But he didn't want to think about it. Half of him wished someone would cast a memory charm on him to make him forget that it had ever happened, or perhaps make him forget who he was.

He was twenty years old. He was the boy who lived. He was the boy who defeated the Dark Lord. He was the boy with two amazing best friends. He was the boy who was dating Ginny Weasley, one of the prettiest witches of their time.

Too pretty for her own good, Harry thought, recalling the time Ron had said this about his sister. Harry finally was able to appreciate how true those words were.

Menacing words and thoughts swam around in his head, thoughts he didn't want to think.

Ginny Weasley, the prettiest witch of your time. Ginny Weasley, your best friend's sister. Ginny Weasley, famous Quidditch player. Ginny Weasley cheated on you, and now your heart is as shattered as your dead Godfather's mirror. Your scar might not hurt anymore, but everything else does. The wizarding world is in peace, but you aren't.

"SHUT UP!" he screamed. He felt like he was going insane, screaming to himself in the middle of London where he lived.

The autumn sun had already risen. Harry guessed it might've been around ten or eleven in the morning. The dim, dusty room in Number 12, Grimmauld Place, was filled with light. Harry hadn't left his Godfather's old home in two weeks, since it happened, and the bad memories that Harry was sure his Godfather, Sirius Black, had from his family's ancient home began to fill Harry up with even more resentment.

Harry searched for his wand, hidden somewhere in the bloodstained bed sheets, and finally grabbed it; it was lying at his feet.

"Accio glasses," Harry grumbled, and they flew to his face. He attempted to pat down his matted, dirty, jet-black hair, but failed, as he always had. Sliding out of bed, he quickly used his wand to heal the gash in his chest and expel any bits of glass that might've sunk into his skin. He got dressed quickly, and cleaned the bed sheets and repaired the mirror with a flick of his wand.

He checked the corner of the room, near the open window, where an empty owl cage stood. His owl, Aspro, was still gone, as she had been for days. He hadn't been able to receive the Daily Prophet, so he was quite cut off from the world. Aspro was a gift given to him by Ginny, a sad replacement for Hedwig, his snowy-white owl that had died so long ago, killed by a Death Eater in a mad chase to transport him safely to the Burrow. Aspro was also snowy white and beautiful in her own way, but simply did not seem to understand Harry as well as Hedwig was able to.

The last message Harry had received was one from Hermione, sent by her owl, a few days after it had happened, comforting him. He never responded. He didn't want to accept that Ginny had cheated. He couldn't bear to even say the words in his head. How after over two years of dating, she had just-

Forget it! Harry commanded himself. Forget about it, forget about her, just relax.

After he took a few deep breaths, gulping in copious amounts of the grimy air, he realized he had nothing to do and nowhere to go. He didn't bother going to work. He was an Auror, but there weren't many dark wizards to take down since Voldemort's defeat. He was sure everything could be handled without him, and no one seemed to question why he wasn't showing up to work. Of course, Harry was positive that they all knew. Ron was an Auror, the whole Ministry must know by now. Harry's face flushed at the thought, and he was filled with a mixture of animosity and depression at the fact that Ron hadn't tried communicating with him since it had happened. His face was hot, and he could feel his stomach sinking and his eyes burning, itching to shoot out boiling tears, but he held it in. He felt like he had lost not only his girlfriend, but one of his best friends as well. But he was a man now. He told himself that if he could defeat the Dark Lord, surely he'd be able to handle this. He took more deep breaths.

Suddenly, there was a banging at the door. He heard a wand tapping it, and a woman's voice shout, "Alohomora!"

Harry recognized the voice at once and shoved his wand back into the pocket of his faded jeans, barely realizing he had instinctively raised it.

"Hermione!" he shouted. "You could've just knocked on the door! I would've opened for you!"

He walked to the main hallway and saw Hermione Jean Weasley standing there, managing a weak smile. Her hair had gotten longer, and the summer had stained it with beautiful blonde streaks. "I had to be sure," she replied, then ran up to Harry, wrapping him in a tight hug.

"Hermione!" he said, but he couldn't help smiling.

"Oh, Harry!" she said, and it sounded like she was going to sob. "I'm so sorry! Are you doing okay? Oh! You probably don't want to talk about it! I'm so stupid!"

"Hermione, you're brilliant. It's fine… I'm fine," he managed, but he could tell Hermione was not convinced.

"If it helps, I'm not speaking to her anymore," she said firmly. "Ron's mad at her, too, but he thinks you're mad at him, Harry, that's why he hasn't been talking to you. I told him he's being foolish, that we aren't children anymore," she explained, "but he won't budge. But that's going to change, that's going to change today."

"Hermione," Harry began cautiously, "What have you planned?"

"Well - you know - Ron and I live together now, so he's moved from the Burrow, and you know, Ginny still lives there, so we couldn't go there, but - but - I planned something at our house, the cottage, it's not too far from the Burrow, but far enough so you wouldn't run into that two-timing…"

"Hermione," he said, almost laughing. "Spit it out!"

"I planned a bit of a reunion, for some old friends. Seamus, Dean, and Lee'll be there, Luna's coming, she lives right there, George and Angelina - they're dating now, isn't it wonderful, he isn't so sad nowadays - just some other members of Dumbledore's Army, what do you think?" she asked, sounding excited.

"You - you haven't invited -" he sputtered, trying to speak, the words not coming, choking on a name he didn't want to say-

"Nev-?" she began, but regretting saying the beginning of the name as soon as it came out of her mouth after seeing the look on Harry's face; he grimaced as though in pain. "I'm so sorry, Harry-"

"No. Don't apologize. It's fine, it really is. My fault-" he tried to continue, but the words were caught in his throat.

Hermione threw her arms around him again. "So you'll come?" she asked hopefully.

"You aren't going to let me say no," he said, the corners of his mouth twitching into an almost-grin. He knew Hermione too well.

She nodded, smiling from ear to ear. "Let's get you ready, then, so we can get to the cottage by noon, though the reunion's not 'til evening… Did I mention you'd be staying with us for a while?" she added.

"What? No, Hermione, I don't want to be a burden… I can take care of myself! Really, Hermione! With Ron not speaking to me… Don't you think it's awkward enough that I'll be within a few miles of her?" Harry spat.

"I want you to stay. Ron misses you, too, he's just too stubborn and upset to say it. Come on, now!" she said determinedly, waving her wand around the house, gathering all of Harry's belongings into his trunk and landing Aspro's cage on top it smoothly. "All set, then?" she asked Harry, who nodded without speaking. "Would you rather take the Floo Network or apparate?"

"Well, seeing as it's going to be awkward enough going to Ron's house and seeing him and all, and being in the same village as Ginny and Neville-" he forced himself to say their names, remembering Dumbledore's words: Fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself, "-I'd rather not show up in his fireplace," said Harry, and he and Hermione managed a quiet laugh.

"Apparate it is, then," she said, glowing with happiness. Harry admired that Hermione still cared about him as much, if not more, than she always had, even though she had married Ron in June. Their marriage, exactly two years and one month after the Battle of Hogwarts, where Voldemort was defeated, seemed to finally brighten up George, who was in a depression ever since Fred had died. At the wedding, George finally reconnected with Angelina Johnson and his other old friend, Lee Jordan, and he seemed to be his old self, or near it… Harry didn't see how George could be the same without Fred - they completed each other.

Harry reluctantly grasped Hermione's hand tightly with his right hand, and held onto his trunk and Aspro's cage with his left. Within a split second, they were traveling through that uncomfortable darkness, dangerously fast. Harry felt as though he was being squeezed through a tube. He nearly forgot the uncomfortable sensation, as he hadn't left his house in weeks.

Finally, they landed in a place Harry recognized only too well - the small village of Ottery St. Catchpole, where the Weasley, Lovegood, Fawcett, and Diggory families resided, among other Muggle families. They were in front of an adorable small cottage that Harry used to visit so often. The grey bricks of the house were sparkling and clean, and the cool autumn breeze rustled the thatched roof of the house and the roses that lay planted in the garden.

"I really love roses," Hermione said wistfully, taking in a deep breath of the fresh, sweet air. "I told Ron that if we ever have a daughter, we've got to name her Rose…"

Harry smiled, happy for his best friend. Hermione abruptly stopped daydreaming and blushed. "Sor-" she began.

"Don't," said Harry. "I'm happy that you're happy."

Hermione beamed and helped Harry carry his trunk and cage onto the front steps. She knocked loudly on the door of her home. "Ron!" she called. "It's me!"

He heard quick footsteps, and the door swung open. Ron looked at Hermione, then to Harry, then back at Hermione. A baffled look arose on his face. He looked older, more mature, more grown up. He was wearing freshly ironed clothes, which Harry was sure was Hermione's work. His hair was also neatly combed.

"Harry's staying with us for a bit," Hermione said curtly. "Be a good friend and help him carry his things to the guest bedroom. I'll be preparing tea in the kitchen." And with that, she disappeared into the house, leaving Ron gaping at Harry, and Harry looking uncomfortably at the ground.

"So," Ron said, breaking the silence. "I'll help you get these things to your room, then," and after an awkward silence, "Nice to see you, mate."

"Really? After ignoring my letters for two weeks, it's nice to see me?" Harry said angrily. He couldn't help himself.

"I'm sorry, I really am! But she's my sister! And you're my best mate! It was a conflict of interests from the beginning!"

Harry was silent for a moment. "Who else knows? Does everyone at work know?" Sensing Ron's hesitation, Harry spoke louder. "Ron, who else knows that she-"

"-cheated on the boy who lived? The chosen one? Everyone knows, Harry, you're famous. I've been snatching all your copies of the Daily Prophet before Aspro gets them to you-"

"You've been WHAT?" Harry shouted. "Let me see a copy! Today's copy! Now!"

"Harry, trust me, you don't want to see-"

"Accio Daily Prophet!" Harry yelled, and a newspaper flew from the kitchen into Harry's outstretched hand. He began to read.

THE BOY WHO LIVED, THE GIRL WHO CHEATED.

BY: RITA SKEETER

Sources inform us that the famous chosen one, Harry Potter, who defeated Lord Voldemort only two years ago, was cheated on! His lady love, Ginevra Weasley, who plays for the Holyhead Harpies, was caught cheating on Harry with Harry's old friend from Hogwarts who helped him defeat the Dark Lord, none other than Neville Longbottom, son of ex-Aurors Frank and Alice Longbottom! Neither Ginevra nor Neville were available for comment, as they seem to be hiding out somewhere in Devon. Harry Potter has also gone into hiding, but his whereabouts are unknown as he has not been sighted in approximately two weeks, when the scandal went public!

So how did Harry catch his longtime love cheating? At an after-party of a Holyhead Harpies Quidditch match! After a smashing win, Longbottom and Weasley were spotted getting cozy in a broom cupboard. Potter, who originally had not planned to go to the party due to his duties as an Auror, wanted to surprise his girlfriend with a marriage proposal! When he found Ginevra and Longbottom and they attempted to explain themselves, he reportedly apparated on the spot and hasn't been seen since. Hopefully, this latest blow won't leave a permanent scar on poor Potter's heart!

NEXT PAGE: SHOULD POTTER HAVE SEEN IT COMING? SHOCKING PICTURES OF LONGBOTTOM AND WEASLEY AT THE YULE BALL TOGETHER!

For once, Rita Skeeter had gotten something right. Harry was remembering the moment like it had just happened. The ring in his pocket, the huge smile that was on his face, the warmth that filled his heart, and then…

Ron grabbed the paper out of Harry's hands, which proved to be an easy task, since they had gone limp, and ripped it in half. Harry's eyes sparkled with what he knew and feared would happen - tears. Ron, without thinking, hugged Harry, and Harry and Ron had both soon forgotten that they were ever fighting. After a while, they sat down on the bed.

"I haven't talked to her, either, mate," Ron began. "I didn't want to talk to you 'cause I figured you'd be mad at me."

"Why?" said Harry suspiciously. "Did you know-"

"No, of course I didn't know she was cheating! It was a shock to me! Mum was crying, dad was livid. Bill- well, he was always her favorite, and he's even disappointed. She talked to George about it, too, apparently it had been going on for some time, he told me yesterday. The fame got to her head, I suppose."

"Well, enough about that," Harry said firmly. "I don't want to talk about that. "It happened, it's over. I don't want to know more. I don't need to know more."

"Yeah. Go meet some nice witches and move on. It's for the best. I never liked Longbottom either, he's always been a bit of a twat."

"He destroyed part of Voldemort's soul and helped me kill the man who killed my parents."

"Who's side are you on, mate?"

"Oh, yeah. Sorry." Harry's brain was fuzzy.

"I'm sorry," Ron said softly. "Are you still mad at me?"

"You're my best friend."

"I've missed you, Harry. Spending all day with Hermione sounds great, but she's got me planting roses with her, honestly, I feel like I can barely be called a man anymore," Ron said, and they both laughed. Harry had gotten his best friends back.

After catching up with Ron for a bit, they walked on the creaky cherry wood floors and into the kitchen, where a smiling and triumphant-looking Hermione had prepared lunch and set a table for three, the scent fresh roast beef and Yorkshire pudding filling Harry's nose, goblets filled to the brim with pumpkin juice for each of them. Harry had not eating such good food in weeks, maybe months.

"Y'know, you really are the brightest witch of our age," Ron said to Hermione, smiling with his mouth full of pudding.

"We can all be best friends again, then?" she said, sounding genuinely happy, beaming with joy.

Harry and Ron nodded simultaneously, both looking as though giant weights had been lifted off of them; they were instantly younger, fresher, brighter. They were once again cheerful young adults. Harry began to appreciate the sun shining, the birds singing, the calming gentle wind from the open windows. He found himself looking forward to the reunion tonight. He could almost feel one crack on his heart being mended.