Disclaimer: I don't own this. If I did I would be working on the last book, and not sit here and dream about it.

His mind was torn apart. He could barely think. He was looking twenty years older then he really was.

The-boy-who-lived, The Chosen One, defeater of he-who-must-not-be-named. Harry Potter.

The clothes on his body were merely rags, and his hair was long and dirty. He was carrying a small backpack that had been fixed several times.

But still, he was alive, and there was one more thing he had to do.

The Burrow. It was midnight, but Harry knew that not one of the people living there was asleep. Ron Weasley had come home to his family before Harry arrived. He knew that they might want some time for themselfs. He himself had paid a visit to Neville Longbottom. He felt that he needed to tell him first, about Voldemort, and the prophecy that involved them both. Neville had at first not understood, but Harry knew that he would. He just needed some time.

Now he was at the doorstep. He heard voices talking in there. Happy voices. He knocked carefully at the door. All sounds from inside the house stopped.

"Who is it?", Molly Weasley's voice came through the door.

"It's me, Mrs. Weasley. Harry.", He answered.

The door flung open, and Mrs. Weasley embraced him closely.

"Oh, it's finally over. Thanks to you, it's finally over!"

She let him go, and Harry followed her back into the house.

He entered the living room of The Burrow. Ginny Weasley was sitting in a corner.

"Ha- Harry?", She said carefully. "Is it over?"

The rest of the people in the room were silent.

"Yes.", He answered. "It's over. Forever, I hope."

Ginny sprang up from her seat, and ran over to Harry, putting her arms around him. He kissed her at the spot. Right in front of her family and half the order of the phoenix.

'Damn it' He thought. 'Those guys are so going to kill me for this.'

Then he smiled down at Ginny.