HARRY POTTER HAD thought the war was over but it was far from it. 

Maybe Voldemort was gone for good now and his allies were where they ought to be---Azkaban but it seemed that he still had to fight the demons in his head who were more powerful than ever. 

He sat in Grimmauld place, a house that now belonged to him after his godfather had passed away. Sirius. Gods, even thinking about him hurt. He was gone now. Even though it had been quite some time now, he felt like the wound had reopened after the war. Along with several others, it bled painfully. 

Whenever Harry closed his eyes, he would see Lupin and Tonks, side by side and he would remember the boy in Andromeda Tonks’ arms, Teddy Lupin. And he felt something twist in his heart. That small boy had already lost so much. He would never know his parents. Just like Harry had never known his. 

He remembered Tonks and Lupin’s funeral very vaguely. Andromeda had been shaking as she watched the burial. Everybody said their eulogies. Harry had too. He wasn’t sure if he had even made sense then, being choked up with grief. But he was sure that his godson had been wailing in his grandma’s arms. The boy was too young to understand it was his parents’ funeral but it seemed like he felt the grief and sorrow in the air. 

And Harry had run then, leaving his eulogy midway because the sight was unbearable. Harry liked to think he had become numb to pain. Dying and then coming back to life made you feel like that. 

But truth to be told, after apparating to Grimmauld Place, he had puked his guts out and curled up in a fetus position after scourgifying the floor. 

There were fresh dried tear stains on his face but he had no will to get up and wash his face. It seemed with so many casualties of the war, his will power to do anything was one of them. 

Harry would have stayed there, unblinking, afraid to close his eyes because he was terrified of what he would see, if not for the knock on the door that startled him. 

The portrait of Walburga Black, Sirius’ mother, started shrieking horribly and Harry picked up his wand. He cast a quick silent incantation to shut up the portrait. The voices died down. 

He got up and made his way to the door. Last time, Ron had come to get him to the Burrow but Harry refused, almost like a child. He said he needed time and that he would come around, eventually. Anything to get the Weasleys off his back. 

He really hoped it wasn’t one of them. 

It had taken a lot of persuading to convince Ron but Harry had got him to say that the former would keep Harry’s whereabouts a secret. 

He peeked from the keyhole and saw the familiar brown hair of Hermione Granger. He breathed a sigh of relief but he still didn’t want visitors. “Go away, ‘Mione,” he said but the said girl didn’t budge. 

“Harry, open up or I will,” she said and crossed her arms over her chest. 

“‘Mione, I do not fancy your company right now or anyone else’s for that matter, please.” His voice quavered and he hated himself for letting the emotions show. 

When Hermione opened her mouth this time, her voice was much softer. Firm but soft too. “Harry, isolating yourself isn’t the way. Is this what Sirius would want you to do? Or your mother?” 

It was all it took for Harry to fling open the door and throw his arms around his best friend. 

Hermione stumbled but she righted herself and wrapped her arms around Harry. His body was trembling now and he buried his face in her hair. A long while passed and none of them said anything until Harry found the courage to say that, “I am scared, Hermione.” 

She rubbed his back soothingly and he relaxed, sinking into her embrace. “I know. I am too,” She whispered as she continued to rub circles on his back. 

He pushed her away and shook his head as he walked to the living room. He sat down and watched as Hermione approached him after shutting the door with a flick of her wand. She sat down across him, tucking her hair behind her ear. 

Harry couldn’t help but notice that she kept nervously tugging on the sleeve of her arm, the one on which the word mudblood was carved. He closed his eyes briefly in sheer pain and he heard her screams that had echoed in Malfoy Manor and then Bellatrix’s laughs of pleasure. He was grateful that the woman was dead. 

His heart climbed up his throat and he told himself that the war was over. It had ended. 

Harry opened his eyes and watched Hermione carefully. She looked almost skittish. It was as if the war had battered her stubborn spirits because pre-war Hermione was hard-headed and she would have been dragging him back to the Burrow. 

But post-war Hermione seemed exhausted like the fight had left her. At least for now. 

“Harry,” she whispered as she scooted closer. She stared into his eyes intently as if trying to prove a point. He had no idea what she was trying to do. Naturally. 

“It’s okay that you are scared. You are only human.” 

She put her hand on his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze and Harry breathed shakily. His eyes were now blurred from tears and he struggled to keep them at bay. “Don’t you get it, Hermione? I am the chosen one. I have to be strong enough and yet here I am.” 

Hermione flinched when she heard the self-loathing in his voice but she didn’t retreat. Her face softened and she bit her lip. She was close to crying if her teary eyes and rapid blinking were any indications. “Oh, Harry.”

“I let those people die. I have attended more funerals than I can count on my fingers. So many deaths. So many people.” His voice was raspy and broken from not using it for so long and tears streamed down his face. He brushed furiously under his eyes and coughed, feeling the weight of the war and its aftermath.

Hermione gulped as she struggled to get herself together. “I am terrified too, you know and I feel so---” 

“Save it.” Harry held up a hand. “Kreacher tells me things. I know what you have been doing. Helping those people and with Hogwarts and all.” 

Hermione exhaled and when she brought her hand to wipe her tears, it was shaking. “I visited my parents yesterday. They died in a car crash and I am terrified.” Her entire body was shaking and she pushed herself up from the ground.

The words hung in the air and Harry watched her numbly. His heart had stopped beating, at least he felt like that and the air was suddenly cold. Like the dementors were around. Something invisible wrapped around his throat when he opened his mouth to say something--anything--nothing came out. The words were hopelessly stuck inside his throat. 

“Hermione, how--” it was all he was able to mumble and Hermione’s face was streaked with tears a few seconds later. She sniffed, trying to pull herself together and he wanted to comfort her just like she had but he was frozen. 

“They were coming back here, I am not sure why but they were--” she hiccuped and wiped furiously at her eyes, “going to airport and then--” 

“Are you okay?” he winced as soon as the words slipped from his mouth. Gods, that was insensitive. 

“Of course not,” she snapped but then her voice softened, almost too painfully, “I don’t know what to do, Harry but one thing that I do know is I am not going to lock myself up. Because after my friends have lost so many people, I don’t want them to lose anyone else.”

“I hope I haven’t lost you. Come to Hogwarts and you’ll know that after the war, everybody is here to heal each other. Good day, Harry.” Hermione turned around and then she was gone. 

It would be two days later that Harry would gather the courage and summon Kreacher to bring him a fresh set of clothes. After he had changed into those clothes, Harry stood in front of the mirror and ran his hand through his mop of hair. 

He could almost imagine Sirius, like that young man he had seen in the Forbidden forest, clucking his tongue in disapproval. Sirius would try to tame his hair but it wouldn't stay down.

“Just like James’,” he would have said and though Sirius wanted to go for a what-a-tragedy tone, his voice would be fond and nostalgic. 

He pushed his thoughts away from his mind and took a deep breath. 

He was scared to go out. In just a few days, this place had become his sanctity. A safe place where his thoughts were muddy but at least, the grief wasn’t as thick. 

The reason he had isolated himself for so long was that he didn’t want to burden others nor did he want to feel burdened. Especially Mrs. Weasely whose kindness would make her take Harry in. He was only a little surprised that she hadn’t come to drag him out of here. But it was most likely that Molly Weasely had a lot on her plate right now. He didn’t want to think about Fred but his thoughts drifted to the Weasely twin anyway. A lump built in his throat and he felt hollow inside. 

Part of the reason he didn’t want to go to the burrow was George. How was he to ever look him in the eye knowing what the Weasely had lost?

He closed his eyes, swallowing down the feelings of guilt weighing him down, apparated and dared to hope it would go okay. 

He stumbled in one of the corridors of Hogwarts. The anti apparition wards were now lifted as people dropped by all the time. Some to check up on family, some to help and some to just be. 

When Harry stabilised himself, he saw the familiar form of Luna Lovegood. The girl’s back was turned to him and she was talking to one of the portraits. 

Harry began approaching and Luna turned around. Her lips eased into a bright smile and Harry felt relieved. Her smile wasn’t accusing or assuming and that was one thing Harry adored about the girl. She had that effect, making scary situations less scary.

He already felt better. 

“Hello, Harry,” she said easily and her voice was light. ”It’s nice to see you after so long.” 

The odd-looking earrings dangled from her ears as she tilted her head. 

Harry managed a smile of his own and it felt weird to smile again. He had nearly forgotten how to do that. 

“Luna, what are you doing?” 

“Oh, nothing much,” she waved her hand in dismissal as she began walking down the corridor and Harry followed. He was grateful for one thing. The war had done a lot of things but Luna Lovegood was still the same. Except for the scar running down from her ear to her chin.

“I was just talking to that portrait. She said the wrackspurts have infested in all the corridors. It would take a great deal of work to remove them. Would you help me, Harry?” 

She stopped walking and so did he. He nodded even though he had no idea what he was supposed to do. He would figure that out later. No problem. 

“Miss Lovegood.” The voice made them turn and Harry froze just as Professor McGonagall did. She blinked a couple of times, regarding him and adjusted her glasses. “Mr. Potter.” 

She turned to Luna. “Miss Lovegood, your friends have been looking all over for you. They are in the great hall.” She gestured them to follow and they did. Luna was skipping on her way and Harry was feeling nervous. Here’s hoping that things wouldn’t go down the drain.

“HARRY!” Hermione shrieked when she saw him enter the great hall and several hands turned to him. So many years and yet, he still felt uncomfortable in the spotlight. Hermione jumped up from her seat and threw her arms around him. “You came.” 

“Yeah,” he murmured and let go only to be tackled by Ron Weasely. 

“Harry, you have no idea how it’s nice seeing you.,” he said and patted him on the back. Harry nodded, feeling a little good because it was nice seeing these familiar faces rather than the walls. A few more people came up to him, old friends, who didn’t talk about the war but the good things. The ones that he needed to hear and he felt like it wouldn’t be that bad. Because he could see, everybody here was about repairing. This wasn’t a place of sorrow. It was kind of bittersweet, like hey we survived. 

McGonagall cleared her hall and asked the students to be silenced and they immediately did. “We have lost so many brave people but it should remind that they gave their lives to make this world a better place. My heart is saddened by the loss of so many friends, some like family and I am aware that it will take time to heal. So I would like to invite you all when Hogwarts reopens, which will be very soon, so that, together we can heal.” 

Nobody spoke as they all soaked in Mcgonall’s words. Her voice is sad and Harry felt that familiar squeeze of his heart. 

“For those who were unable to complete their seventh year,” her eyes sought the trio, “due to war are welcome back as well. Hogwarts is always going to be your home, students.” 

Hermione nudged Ron and Harry. “You are coming back, right?” 

Ron exhaled and his voice was cheerful as he said, “Now that Voldemort--” they flinched, “is gone I would love to see if we can have an uneventful year.” 

They laughed a little and Harry breathed, “Yeah. Me too.” 

He looked around, knowing that there was a big mess to clean up. Things weren’t okay right now. 

But at last, he was home and that alone was reassurance enough. 

-END-

thank you for reading if you made it till here! i am really thankful for that. i have really wanted to write on this for a long, long time and it's finally here. please be kind and leave a vote (and a comment if you will). good day, folks!