Disclaimer: Well, ok, I guess I have to write things like 'I'm not JKR' or 'Nothing of what you see belongs to me' etc. But if I were JKR? And if I wrote all the HP books? Eh, eh, eh, eh, eh, eh – sigh! No ok, I'm not JKR and nothing of what you can recognize belongs to me! Sigh!

A/N: Ok, that's not my first fan fiction, but it's my first H/Hr ff! I hope you all like it! I don't know how often I will be able to update it, because my exams are getting extremely close (I know that June is not all that near, but for me it is!). The last thing is that I'm Italian, so you will please forgive all my mistakes? Oh, yes I really hope that you'll like it!

To Keri Hayes: Thank you very much for beta reading this chapter! I have to thank you because my chapter won't be a complete mess, but it will be almost ok! Thank you very much girl!

The Boy Who Survived the Last Battle

Harry woke up in the middle of the night with his forehead covered in sweat. His body was shaking furiously.

Why did he have to suffer through the same dream every night? Why did that dream have to be so terrible?

He was almost afraid to close his eyes, afraid to sleep.

He sat on his bed and stretched his arm on the bedside table searching for his glasses and his wand in the dark. When he found them he put his glasses on his nose and taking his wand in the right hand, he muttered "Lumos". Weak sparks flew from his wand.

He took his watch from the same bedside table and read the hour.

2.30 a.m.

It was early. So damn early.

It didn't really matter. Harry didn't do anything during the day; there was nothing to do, so he didn't have to sleep very much.

He looked around his room, it was one of the best that Tom had. There were two beds, a table, a wardrobe, a chair, and the day before Tom had given him an armchair.

He had also the bathroom, and for a couple of minutes, when he opened the tops, the water was almost hot, then it turned as cold as ice.

At least that bedroom wasn't destroyed like almost all the magic world in Britain.

He looked at the calendarwhich somebody had hung next to the broken mirror. Ludo Bagman was snoring loudly above the little square with the number of the days.

Harry had already crossed 13 pigeonholes, that day was the fourteenth.

The fourteenth of September.

It was almost five months that Harry has been living at the Leaky Cauldron, exactly five months that he has defeated Voldemort, five months that Ron, Hermione, Malfoy, Ginny, all the Weasleys, most of the members of the Order of the Phoenix and loads of others brave wizards and witches died in the Final Battle.

Harry got up and quickly took a cold shower, and then returned to the bedroom with a towel around his hips.

He was soaking the floor, but he really didn't care. It was just water.

He sat on the chair and picked up a leather album.

On the cover the letters 'HARRY J. POTTER' were shining at the light of his wand.

It was his present for his 23rd birthday, from Ron, Hermione and Ginny.

He opened it. The first picture was the one that they took the last day of school, when they received their N.E.W.T.s.

They seemed so happy, and they must have been happy, but Harry couldn't remember that sensation.

He turned page, on the second picture Harry and Ron were carrying Hermione, who was protesting loudly, to the lake on the ground near Hogwarts.

On the third photo Ron had managed to enter Ginny's bedroom while she and Hermione were getting ready for a feast; Ginny's head was covered with rollers and Hermione's face was green because of some kind of seaweeds beauty cream. They were screaming and running towards Ron.

The next photograph portrayed Ron with a black eye.

He kept watching the pictures for hours and when he arrived at the end of the album he watched it again.

The pictures and the nightmarewere the only things that he had for remembering his friends.

Slowly the first light of dawn entered the open window.

Rubbing his eyes, Harry sat up and moved sleepily towards the wardrobe. He opened it, there were a pair of old, dirty and broken jeans, a green shirt, a red t-shirt and two socks, one was blue and the other grey.

That was all he had, besides two pairs of pants and a pair of tennis shoes.

He wore a pair of jeans and the red t-shirt then went downstairs.

The Leaky Cauldron was empty and silent. Harry had been the only client for almost five months, and then it was six in the morning.

He decided to go out for a walk before breakfast, so he exited and found himself in what remained of Diagon Alley.

The morning sun lighted the ruins of the houses and of most of the shops.

A small shop with dusty windows stood still between two collapsed buildings.

It was Ollivander's, one of the three buildings that existed still in Diagon Alley.

The other two were the Gringotts and the Leaky Cauldron.

Why only that three buildings? Nobody knew, or better Harry didn't know and he didn't have the chance or the will to ask anybody.

He knew that also Hogwarts and the Ministry of Magic still existed because he went there after the Battle, and also half of St. Mungo, because they took him there when he was badly injured, but others places like Hogsmeade had been cancelled from Earth.

He walked till he reached Gringotts; some goblins were spying on him from behind the curtains of the window.

When Harry spotted them, they disappeared into the darkbank.

Harry sighed.

The goblins were some of the few magic creatures that survived the Battle.

All the house-elves dyed, nobody knew if there was a living centaur in all Britain and all the hippogriffs were gone.

He passed by the Bank and looked at what one time was the shop that sold out all the necessary for potions. Now it was nothing. No. It was less than nothing. Just a ruin.

Some wind raised the dust from the road and Harry felt the odd sensation of being in a western movie.

Diagon Alley was like a ghost city, or better a 'ghost way'.

Every now and then some wizards or witches arrived at the Leaky Cauldron, but they never stayed there for more than a day.

They brought news from the place they came from, but they were very rare. Sometimes they were also bandits or wizards that did something illegal to earn the money they needed for eating. Sometimes they were merchants that sold everything, from dresses to wands, from glasses to bottles of whisky.

Once, Harry had bought his grey sock from an old man that sold only odd socks.

Harry squatted down and picked up a piece of a sign.

He could read only '-of All The Occ-'. He threw it away, then got up and walked back towards the Leaky Cauldron.

He was looking at the houses in the Muggle world now.

It was strange that he could see everything and everybody, but nobody could see him or what was left of Diagon Alley from the Muggle way.

He didn't know why, but the force that his and Voldemort's wands stirred up during the Last Battle passing on the Muggle World leaving it untouched; exactly the contrary of what had happened in the Magic World.

All that Muggles saw when they looked at Diagon Alley was a construction site with big signals of 'Danger, no Trespassing' on them.

But in reality nobody had started to rebuild the alley yet.

It was too early.

'The only good thing is that Knockturn Alley is gone too,' thought Harry looking at what one time was a dark entrance of that way, now it was nothing more than a ruin.

After a brief walk he reached the Leaky Cauldron.

But there was something different from when he left it that morning.

A white unicorn was tied near the door.

It was saddled and it had rein, and behind him there was a cart.

Capturing a unicorn was illegal since before the Battle, Harry knew it, but he also knew that the law in Great Britain wasn't strictly respected anymore.

Anyway there was nobody who could have made respect it.

'It must be a woman, it's not easy for a man to capture a unicorn,' thought Harry, 'Well, lets hope that she hasbrought some news from wherever she is coming from.'

He came near the unicorn and caressed him near the saddle, when he looked at his hand it was covered in a silver substance.

Unicorn's blood, the saddle was cutting its skin.

Harry shook his head and headed angrily for the hall.

When he entered the room where he usually had his meals, he found Tom who was clearing a table.

"Good morning, Tom," said Harry causing the old man to jump.

He looked at Harry and gave him his usual toothless smile, "Good morning, Mr. Potter. Did you sleep well?" he asked in his hoarse voice.

Harry shook his head sitting down on a chair, "No, but it doesn't matter. Did someone arrive?"

Tom smiled again, "Yes, a merchant. He asked me if there was someone else in here and I said there was you, did I do right? I don't think he had seen loads of customers in the last months – toast and tea?" he added.

Harry nodded, "What does he sell?" he asked while Tom disappeared in the kitchen.

"I don't know, but he told me to tell you to go to his room when you have finished your breakfast. If you want, he is in room five," Tom added bringing out a couple piecesof toasts and a cup of tea to Harry.

He didn't go crazy for toasts, but they were some of the last things that remained.

Harry nodded to Tom, who smiled to Harry and headed towards the stairs and Harry's room.

Harry was left at his table alone and decided to pay the merchant a visit.

'Maybe he has something that I need, I can really do with another pair of shoes, and I have to remind him that his illegal unicorn is bleeding," he thought finishing his breakfast.