Chapter 1
Harry sat on the bed in Sirius' childhood room at Number 12 Grimmauld Place. The curtains in every room drawn. 19 years he had lived, but he hasn't felt life was worth living for the past two years. He didn't just loose Sirius, and others. He lost Ron and Hermione as well. Ron was the first to fall out of the two, then Hermione after him. Clinging to Ron's lifeless body.
He had been deep in his thoughts when Kreacher came in.
"Master Potter..."
No answer.
"Master Potter..."
Harry had abandoned his thoughts as Kreacher's voice reached him.
"Yes, Kreacher?"
"A message came from Headmistress McGonagall, she wants to meet you at Hogwarts. I'd advise you to eat first though master Potter, you haven't eaten much in a couple of days."
Harry stood, his emaciated frame hugged by baggy clothing that used to fit.
"Thank you, I'll go see McGonagall now."
Kreacher looked at him with sympathy.
"But master Potter, you must eat..."
"Not now Kreacher!" Harry snapped out of irritation.
He hatted how others had tried to force him to eat. Though, he immediately realized his mistake.
"Sorry, Kreacher. I shouldn't have snapped at you."
"It's alright Master, Kreacher forgives..."
Harry nodded, as he left the room. Using floo powder to travel.
"Headmistress McGonagall's Office."
· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·
Harry flew through the fireplace onto his back on the floor of the head office of Hogwarts, his baggy clothing covered in soot. Gradually, he got up. Dusting his clothing, he looked around and the room seemed vacant. The professor that was head of his house didn't seem to be there. Harry looked around the familiar room, memories filled of Albus Dumbledore and what he achieved filled it.
A large, circular room filled with rare, magical artifacts. Countless books, sleeping portraits of former Headmasters, and the enchanted Sorting Hat. It didn't change at all. Fawkes' perch was still in the same place it always had been. His eyes began to tear up, but ended as he saw what was on her desk. The elder wand, the one he thought he broke at the end of the war was back together.
Harry walked towards the desk. Picked up the wand, and examined it. It was as if it was never broken at all. Astonishing he thought as he went to sit on the spiral steps that lead to some books that Harry never dared to look at. His eyes looking downward at the wand.
He thought about his dead friends, those he lost along the way. The evil had been vanquished, but what was left was an ache in his chest where those he loved were missing. He had a wish, deep in his heart. One he desperately wanted to be true, he wanted everyone back. The one he wanted especially was Hermione, the one who grounded him.
The one that helped him through everything. 'Cause when she was gone, that was the moment he knew his feelings for her were deeper than friendship. More than a platonic bond, something he couldn't explain.
It was then that the Elder Wand in his hand began to glow, whisps of golden threads of magic had engulfed him. But the next thing he knew, he was on the Hogwarts express. Staring face to face with his younger version of his friend Ron Weasley.
