The very first thing Harry wanted to do after defeating Voldemort was sleep. The boy who lived was tired. He was tired of fighting, and tired of answering questions about his so called epic battle.

His walk to his dormitory was never really a long one yet after his battle with Voldemort it seemed like eternity. He had never quite wanted to avoid people as he did today. Covered in blood, sweat, and dirt, Harry made his way through the thick crowd of people with Ron, Ginny and Hermione by his side. They acted as his shield while cutting through the hallways filled with students, teachers and faculty members. Hogwarts had acted like one big army to protect its own and to protect the world from evil itself. Never before had the majestic grounds seen such a battle as it had in the past 24 hours. All of the houses had combined to form one large army of Hogwarts. Harry thought that somewhere Dumbledore would be happy to see his school in such good spirits.

The walk to his dorm became rather short and rushed when Hermione threw the Invisibility Cloak over Harry. Everyone knew he needed to be alone. After all how many people came back from the dead without needing some thoughts to recollect?

Neville and the rest of the Dumbledore's Army had kept Ron and Harry's dorm available for them even though they hadn't decided on coming back for the final year. Harry would have to thank Neville later for the gestures because as soon as he laid eyes on his bed, he felt sleep beckoning him.

He had seen so much in the past seven years of his life. No one quite understood how he felt. He knew there would be many who would like to switch positions with him and have Harry's life. Yet this life wasn't something Harry could pass on to someone else, no matter how much he wished for it.

His life was filled with death and loss. From the moment he was born, his life was written with death in mind. Harry never got to know his parents. Voldemort seemed to infiltrate every aspect of Harry's life. He lived in fear for the lives of his friends. Harry might not have had his own life separated from him but he did have to live with the knowledge that his family and friends had been lost. His own parents, his God-father, Sirius, and tonight Lupin and Tonks and even the Weasleys had lost someone. Every where around him was death yet even though he had possessed all three of the Deathly Hallows, Harry knew he couldn't bring back those he lost.

He was tired; tired of losing the ones he loved, tired of fighting for nearly all his life, and tired of being the 'Choosen One.'

Many looked forward to a life of adventure. But Dumbledore always said Harry was something special.

Harry looked forward to a mediocre life with a routine. He looked forward to waking up in a house with his loved ones, where he didn't have to worry about them living the next day. He looked forward to not having to hide. But most of all Harry looked forward to the day where he no longer had to be "The boy who lived."