Life After Voldemort - The 19 Years

Chapter 1 - Memories in the Sky

The stars burned brightly into his eyes. Sprawled out in the Burrow's front yard, Harry Potter gazed into the indigo shades of the night sky, the flickering lights that were painted across the galaxy more apparent to him than ever.

Of course, he'd never really had time to just look out into the universe until now. The Wizarding world was at peace, for once. It had been for roughly two weeks. Many would say it was because of him. He knew better. Luck aided him throughout his entire childhood, whether it be his timing to find the Sorcerer's stone, his narrow escape from the legendary Chamber of Secrets, the miracle and victory of the Triwizard Tournament and then perplexing battle with Voldemort himself, and then another battle with Voldemort, and then another...and finally his destruction. Dozens of people, no, probably hundreds helped him hide from Voldemort and stay safe, risking everything for him - their one chance to be rid of evil for the rest of their lives. Even more witches and wizards came to his aid and fought the cruel, unyielding Death Eaters in one of the greatest battles in Wizarding history.

The Death Eaters were servants to the former Lord Voldemort, the coldest, most malicious, evil wizard ever to crawl the face of the earth. He, by strokes of luck, courage, and unthinkable magic, was gone forever. By Harry's hand Voldemort had fallen, though he never really thought about it that way. Faces, some warm, some haunting, began to flash through his mind.

They were the faces of his friends, relatives, professors, elders. Though Harry felt tears well up in his emerald eyes, focused on the dark blue above him, he suppressed the urge to cry. He'd cried many nights now, sometimes out of happiness, most times out of grief. Grief, he knew, from all the death he felt he caused. If only he had known sooner all the secrets, the lies, the plans that lay all around him, maybe his loved ones would still be here to celebrate victory with him.

First to come to his mind was Snape. Throughout the entire time Harry ever knew Snape he did not trust him, not to mention he loathed the man. Dumbledore always placed some sort of faith in Severus, to Harry's confusion. In the end, it seemed, Dumbledore was right in believing in Snape. All along he was protecting Harry, working undercover flawlessly for those who probably hated him their whole lives. And now he was dead, only his silvery memories left behind in Dumbledore's penseive.

Snape, in himself, was something of a tragedy. He never got to be with the love of his life, Harry's mother. Lonely and depressed, he was constantly made fun of as a child, and repeatedly turned down for the Defense Against the Dark Arts position at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Harry felt awful inside when he remembered those black eyes, piercing him before the last of Snape's life left them.

Harry's thoughts trailed to Lupin, and to his wife, Tonks, both of them dead by trying to save him. And left behind was their son, Teddy, now Harry's godson. A tear slid down his cheek. Lupin provided Harry with so much knowledge, so much comfort and confidence, even though he often had little in himself. And Tonks, always burned in Harry's memory with her bright pink hair and fervent passion for fighting to save others. The image of the two of them dead, laid down peacefully together in the Great Hall the night Voldemort was vanquished. They were so close to seeing the victory...to seeing their son again... He was now an orphan just as Harry was.

Then there was Mad-Eye Moody, dead as he defended Harry in the skies. Constant vigilance, the words rattled his brain, remembering the all-too famous phrase of the famed auror with the electric blue eye. His toughness, his fiery temper, his skill and mastery of Defense were gone. And Hedwig, Harry's beloved owl, bought by Hagrid the first day he even knew that magic existed, she was gone too, destroyed just as Moody was that night he flew in the dangerous skies. She was mad at Harry the evening she died, not even being able to fly freely before her untimely death.

And all of a sudden, Dobby's squeaky voice erupted in his head.

"Harry...Potter..." Harry shuddered, remembering the giddy elf's last words. Never again would Harry find an elf like him, so determined to live free, so determined to protect others that he could even injure them. Remembering the incident with the rogue bludger his 2^nd year, Harry chuckled softly to himself. The elf died saving him and his friends from a much worse fate, however, than a bewitched Quidditch ball.

Colin Creevy, another friend he'd made his 2^nd year at Hogwarts, also dead from the Hogwarts battle. He recalled Neville carrying him to the castle. Harry even felt a twinge of sorrow at remembering that the lumbering brute Crabbe was dead.

And Fred, Fred Weasley, the seemingly invincible troublemaking twin to George was lost. He was killed while smiling, laughing, almost as Sirius had done. It was natural, though, very fitting for the joking boy to die laughing. Harry would never forget the Weasley family as they mourned Fred, Mrs. Weasley sprawled across his body, Percy, finally coming to his senses and joining the fight against Voldemort only to see his brother murdered, Mr. Weasley's face wet with tears. Harry wondered what George, now missing an ear from an early battle, would do in his memory. Since he was, after all, currently residing in the Burrow, Harry oftentimes saw George alone in his room, unable to smile, to joke.

And the professors, Harry remembered - so many professors and adults were gone too. Scrimgeour, the former minister who he so disliked, died to save Harry. Bathilda Bagshot was gone, as was Hogwarts' former Muggle-studies teacher. Gregorovitch, the wandmaker, was dead at the hands of Voldemort as well.

At least 50 more, Harry knew, were killed at the battle that occurred at Hogwarts, but many more Muggle-borns and 'blood-traitors' were murdered for the sake of being different and helpful. The Death Eaters, though Harry despised them, were killed as well. Nobody, Harry figured, really deserved to die except Voldemort.

And Sirius, though Harry mourned him so many times before, still crept into his mind. And his parents did too. Though, Harry knew in his heart, Sirius and James were not perfect, though they were sometimes cruel to other kids when they were young, they still made him wish they were alive. Lily, Harry's mother, the kind and gentle woman who gave her love to save her only son, was gone as well, though now, Harry knew, they loved him in death. They always would, all three of them.

Plus one more - Dumbledore, who explained absolutely everything to Harry upon his short death. He finally explained the truth to the boy, beating down upon his past self in the process. Harry finally learned that Dumbledore was not perfect, a dark past behind him. But he felt love, sorrow for the older, wiser man, still the greatest wizard Harry had ever known. Another few tears rolled down Harry's cheek. His stomach knotted when he remembered he'd not see Dumbledore, any of the people lost to his cause, until his (timely) death.

And then his friends - Neville, Luna, Seamus, Cho, the whole of Dumbledore's Army and the other students who stuck by Harry to the end came into his brain. He'd probably be dead without their bravery and patience. No, he'd surely be dead. And Hagrid, the wonderful and scruffy, slightly creature-obsessed man who was the first magical being he'd ever met. He stuck with him, always committing brave, though somewhat stupid acts of heroic valor time and time again, all for Harry. And then...

Ron and Hermione. Their names brought elation to his heart, more tears to his eyes. They were, above basically everyone, his two, true, closest friends, with him through everything. With him since he met them, dazed and confused, on the Hogwarts Express when he was 11 years old. Besides a rush of hormones and several inches of height, the two of them never really changed to Harry.

Hermione, the somewhat nosy bookworm, and the brightest witch he'd ever known with thick brown hair and somewhat large front teeth. She always knew the answers, always saved his and Ron's backsides from danger, always stayed bright in the darkest of times.

Ron, the tall, gangly boy Harry first befriended. They had their share of fights, but had their share of apologies too. Though constantly frightened of spiders and most situations, the quick-tempered but extremely brave teenager never let Harry down.

He saved Harry's life several times, as did Hermione. Through it all, they constantly saved each other from terrible fates. Through it all, they remained unbreakable friends, though Ron and Hermione (finally!) hit it off in a relationship after 6 years. As Harry continued to gaze into space, he knew that somewhere in the Burrow, Ron and Hermione were snogging or arguing, their two most affectionate gestures towards each other.

A relationship...and that's when Ginny flooded Harry's mind. His tears ceased to fall. His stomach fluttered and his entire body relaxed at the thought of Ginny. Oh, Ginny Weasley, somewhere inside the Burrow as well, probably reading or comforting George or sleeping. It was, after all, late. However, nobody had anything to fear anymore. Nobody objected to Harry lying out on the front lawn, exposing himself for the first time in forever, it seemed like.

But Ginny. Harry smiled and gazed at the twinkling sky once more. In the back of his mind he recalled the somewhat embarrassing kiss they shared before Harry's departure, the one in which Ron and Hermione burst in upon them and then, to Harry's frustration, scolded him for not continuing his little snog with her. He laughed out loud. The butterflies in his abdomen told him he needed Ginny, needed her more than anything in the world. He wanted to be with her always, to smell her hair again, to spend his entire life with her.

And at that exact moment Harry noticed the footsteps on the lawn and shot up, the blood rushing from his head. He felt woozy. But, for once, he knew the discomfort wasn't from his scar. It never would be again.

"What's so funny?" came her voice. Harry grinned a somewhat dreamy, goofy grin as Ginny sat down in the cool summer grass beside him. "Did I startle you?"