Harry's feet trudged along the corridor, echoed by those of Ron and Hermione. His stomach rumbled loudly, and he voiced his question. "Do you think Kreacher -" He was interrupted by a crack. "Master Harry wished to see Kreacher?" Kreacher said with a deep bow. "Erm, Kreacher," Harry said carefully, because he knew that no matter how tired they were, Hermione wouldn't hesitate to give him a lecture, "Would you mind bringing me a sandwich in Gryffindor Tower? I'm sure you must be tired, so when you're ready -" "Of course!" Kreacher exclaimed, " Kreacher finds it most amazing that Master Harry saves the world from certain destruction and all he asks for is a sandwich! Would Master also like some pumpkin juice?" Kreacher said, his croaking voice rich with admiration. " That'd be great Kreacher, thanks. And Kreacher, feel free to call me just Harry if you want to. I'm still not quite used to the whole "master" thing." Harry added.

"Most certainly," he paused, "Harry." and with faint pop, he was gone. Harry turned around to Ron and Hermione, who ever since leaving Dumbledore's office had not said a word. "Ron -" Harry started " It's okay mate, I understand. After all you've been through, you deserve a little rest." They both knew that normally, Harry would have contested Ron's statement, saying that they'd all been through a lot, but for now, he was much too tired, and gave Ron a grateful smile. He turned to Hermione and gave her a reassuring squeeze. "I'll be back soon," he said with a yawn, I just need to kip for a bit. Since I've last slept, well you know..." he trailed off. She nodded. "Go." she said simply. "We'll come with you. Right?" she said with a glare at Ron that could have passed for both Mrs. Weasley and Professor McGonagall.

And so they continued trudging down the hallway toward the Fat Lady. Harry almost didn't realize that they were there, he was so utterly exhausted. With a jolt he realized that they had no idea what the password was. He looked at the Fat Lady. " Well," she said with a soft smile "just this once." and with that, she swung forward, and Harry stepped into what he hoped was an undamaged Gryffindor Common Room, in a castle he called home.

Harry stepped into the room, expecting the worst, but hoping for the best. You know, when things are bad, life goes in a downward spiral ending in a place very similar to rock bottom until what seems like the end of eternity. However, once things start looking up, the spiral turns up in such a way, and so quickly, after a while, you can see nothing but clouds, and not even the tiniest pebble. It seemed that after defeating Voldemort, Harry's life was starting to take an uprising spiral. The Common Room looked as though nothing had happened. In fact, if not for his memories and aching body, Harry might have sworn that he had just come back in after a walk on the lake with Ginny. Or maybe a Quidditch Practice. He wasn't quite sure. One thing that he did know, however, was that he was, finally and truly, home.

Harry looked up at the what now seemed to be an endless stairway to the boy's dormitory. As if reading his mind, as good friends often seem to do, Hermione said "Why don't we just kip on the couch for a bit?" and then, with her everlasting sense, she reasoned "That way, if people come looking for us, they won't accidentally forget to look in the dormitories, and start worrying." Normally, Harry would have said something like "Nah, I can make it." however, he already sensed his brain shutting down, and his eyelids fluttering, so with a weak "Mm hmm" he clambered onto the couch, and into hopefully peaceful dreams.

Harry Potter, however, was not a very lucky person, before, his eyelids could even shut completely, which let me tell you, wouldn't even have taken him a millisecond. Kreacher appeared with a loud crack and held out his sandwich and pumpkin juice.

Harry groaned inwardly. "Thanks Kreacher." he said, and with a feeble attempt at an appreciative smile, he sat up and started nibbling on his sandwich. He glanced over at Ron, whom Harry could have sworn was awake a minute ago. Not only was he not awake, but he was snoring and his tongue was lolling out of his mouth. He caught Hermione's eye, but they had to look away before they started breaking into fits of laughter. While he was struggling to repress the laughter, a voice in his head thought This is the way it was supposed to be. No, it's not, the voice said. Remus, Tonks, Fred, Colin,

and all of the other nameless, faceless people weren't supposed to die. He silently agreed that it felt like it was too early, but now, he knew that they were indeed in a better place, never to be haunted by thoughts of Riddle, Death Eaters, or as in Colin and Remus' case, prejudice. As he was thinking, he was already starting to lie back down, to drift off, and before he knew it, he was fast asleep.

Author's Note: I say that Colin was subject to prejudice not because he was a werewolf(obviously) but because he was a muggle-born.