It has been ten years since Lord Voldemort’s death. And Harry Potter is no longer a small boy discovering his powers. He is twenty-seven now. But his scars, internal and external, still remain. Harry Potter still had nightmares of the final battle. Flashes of Draco Malfoy killing Ginny Weasley, Ron fighting Draco, and Hermione stepping in and killing Draco with a look of disgust on her face. Hermione losing her resolve and shooting hexes off at any death eater she could see, and eventually killing Lucious Malfoy and Dolohove. Neville killing Bellatrix Lestrange. Himself killing Snape, and then dueling with Voldemort.

Once again, Harry and Voldemort entered the cage of light. As Harry struggled with Voldemort, he looked outside the cage of golden light. Most of the death eaters were either dead, captured or escaped. Luna, Neville, Ron and Lupin stared up at Harry. Screaming at him to hold on a little longer. Hermione was on the floor crying hysterically, while Tonks tried to convince her that Harry would not be killed. His friends pleas and cries faded away. And the wisps of the souls Voldemort killed re-entered the world. Telling him to hold on for just a little longer. And then it happened. Voldemort burst into flames, screaming as he slowly died.

Parties celebrating Voldemort's true demise had occurred all over the country. But Harry, Hermione, Ron, Luna and Neville had refused to celebrate. Hermione and Ron had become a couple during the first months of their seventh year. But they split up after the final battle, deciding they had fallen out of love. Because of their deep respect for one another, they remained close friends. Hermione became the replacement little sister in the Weasley’s lives.

The three remained The Golden Trio until graduation when they all went their separate ways. Hermione stayed at Hogwarts and became the new Transfiguration professor. McGonagall became headmistress after Snape’s brutal betrayal of killing Dumbledore. Ron became the keeper for the Chudley Cannons. He was marvelous at every game. And Harry decided not to be an Auror, since the ministry was just another popularity contest that he wanted nothing to do with. Harry became a Dark Arts Hunter. He privately went from town to town solving mysteries and bringing justice.

But right now, he was heading back to the Burrow for Christmas. It was a yearly tradition for Harry. Part of him hated going every Christmas because Hermione and Mrs. Weasley always begged him to settle down and stop traveling all the time. Ron was always with a new girlfriend and swore that she was the one. Then, after the holidays, he would break up with the poor girl. Bill and Fleur had five children now, each of them looking like angels. And then there was the constant reminder of Ginny Weasley. He wasn’t in love with her. He decided that before she died. He just liked the idea of Ginny liking him. But he still had trouble forgiving himself for her death. A part of him would always feel responsible.

Harry found himself outside of the Burrow, staring into their window. Inside he could see Ron and Mr. Weasley playing a game of wizarding chess. Bill and Fleur’s children were dancing around the house. His trance was immediately broken when a snowball zoomed pass his head. Harry turned to see some brown bushy hair disappear behind the broom shed.

Harry shook his head and crept up to the shed, gathering snow into a ball as he went. He turned the corner and found Hermione trying to surprise giggles while peeking around the other side. He tackled her to the ground and smashed the snowball on the head. She screamed in surprise, and continued to laugh hysterically, “Hello Harry.”

Harry smiled and helped Hermione up to her feet and said, “You really should work on your aim, Hermy. You missed me by a mile.”

“More like four inches, and don’t call me Hermy. It painfully reminds me of Grawp.” Harry laughed as Hermione shook the snow from her hair. “Come on, it’s freezing. Let’s go inside.” Hermione said as she led him into the Burrow. Harry summoned his trunk and levitated it into the house.

Mrs. Weasley flung her arms around Harry in a bone crushing hug as he entered the house. Ron quickly appeared next to him and clapped him on the back as Mrs. Weasley rushed to get Harry a cup of tea. Mrs. Weasley’s usual holiday music programs played in the background. Harry sat down at the table. Ron sat across from Harry, and Hermione sat next to him. Bill, Fleur, and Mr. Weasley joined him at the table as Mrs. Weasley sat down hot tea and, out of habit, two sandwiches in front of Harry. She sat down next to Ron at the table. “How are Fred and George?” Harry asked as he started to eat.
“Fantastic!” Mrs. Weasley started. She continued on to tell Harry how Fred and George were opening up three more locations. Then she went onto Charlie, and how he had met a girl in Romania. “He might be settling down soon. I mean, he’s bringing the girl with him for Christmas.”

“That doesn’t mean anything, Mum,” Bill joked. “Ron’s brought a girl home every year for Christmas, and he hasn’t settled down yet.”

Ron’s ears turned red, “They only liked me because I was rich and famous. Besides, my new girlfriend could care less about any of that.” Harry and Bill shook with silent laughter. “You won’t think it’s so funny after you know who it is Harry!” Ron said defensively.

Harry stopped laughing, “Who is it?”

Ron pretended to be very busy examining his new watch on his wrist. “Oh, just someone from school...”

Ron and Hermione exchanged glances. Harry’s stomach lurched and he set down his sandwich he had been devouring. “You two aren’t…”

Harry couldn’t get the words out of his mouth. But Hermione knew what he was getting at. “Me and Ron? Are you serious Harry? After our disastrous relationship in seventh year? Honestly, Harry.”

“Hey Hermione…” Ron said with a wicked grin on his face.

Hermione gave him a questionable look. “What?” Hermione asked warily.

“You didn’t use proper grammar.” Ron said with glee.”

Hermione rolled her eyes, “Ron-”

Before the two could get in an argument, Mr. Weasley stepped in, “Ron, who is this mysterious girl you’re bringing home?”

“That’s a secret Dad.”

“As long as it’s not Moaning Myrtle or Cho Chang. I’m happy for you.” Harry said.

Ron looked as if he was going to thank Harry. But then a sudden realization crossed his face, “Wait a second…Why would I bring home Moaning Myrtle?” The group laughed as Ron turned a deeper shade of red.

(A/N: I know that some of you have been waiting forever for me to write more. But I have been having “issues” getting the next part posted on Mugglenet. If it is taking forever for me to put up another chapter, check www.harrypotterfanfiction.com because I am always on that site. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter!)

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Harry was still awake at two o'clock. He tossed and turned, desperately trying to fall asleep. Finally Harry decided that for some unknown reason, sleep would not come. Harry quietly got up, making sure he did not wake up Ron and taking a blanket with him. Slowly and silently he walked down the stairs. As he passed Ginny's old room, he noticed light shining through the crack in the door. ‘Why would Hermione be up so late?' Harry thought to himself. He was tempted to knock on the door and peek inside, but decided against it. As he went for the next step, it unexpectedly creaked. Harry half expected Hermione to open the door to see who was up as late as her. But it remained shut and he continued down the stairs.

Harry found his way into the Weasley's living room in the dark and lay across the couch. He wasn't aware of how long he stared at the dying fire across from him, but he suddenly heard footsteps coming down the stairs. He peeked over the couch and saw a woman in a robe with long bushy hair. “Hermione? Is that you?” The figured jumped and looked around.

The shadow spotted Harry on the couch, “Harry! You're lucky I didn't hex you!” Hermione whispered back. “Why are you sitting in the dark?” She asked as she re-lit the fire.

Harry moved himself and allowed Hermione to sit next to him. Harry noticed a large book in her arms and raised his eyebrows. “Did you check that out for light reading? That monster is the size of Hogwarts, A History. You didn’t re-write it to show the cruelty of House-elf slavery did you?”

Hermione glared at Harry, “No actually. I um…” Her pervious look changed to anxiousness. “Well, this is something I wrote. But it’s not a revised version of Hogwarts, A History.”

“What is it about then?”

“Well, it’s about you.” Hermione added in a rushed voice. “Before you get angry, let me explain. There have been thousands of stories written about you. But none of them really portray the real you. And I know because I have read all of them. So, I took the liberty in writing what really happened at Hogwarts.” She handed Harry the book.

“Bloody hell! This thing weighs as much as Dudley!” He glanced at Hermione. She was wringing her hands nervously and biting her bottom lip as if she was expecting him to explode at any moment. He took her hand in his, “If anyone was going to write my biography, Hermione, I would want it to be you.” Harry said earnestly. “At least you won’t portray me as a misguided hero.”

“But you are a hero, Harry.”

Harry rolled his eyes, “You know what I mean.” He stared at the fire for a minute, then glanced back at Hermione. There was a single tear falling down her cheek. “Why are you crying?”

“Because, Harry.” Hermione smiled, “I’ve missed you.”

Harry wiped her tear away. “I’ve missed you too.” And for the first time in ten years, Harry meant it.

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So that is the second chapter. I have most of the story written out. It’s just the issue of typing it!