Chapter 1: The Grieving of Harry Potter

The stars shown bright that night on Privet Drive, each displaying their natural beauty as if they were putting on a show for all the world to see. Not to be outdone by the stars, the planets also were proving their worth, Mars was a brilliant red while the cool blue of Venus would amaze even the most novice of star gazers. However, it seemed that only one person had taken noticed of the spectacle above, a slender boy with wire rimed glasses and black messy hair had his head resting upon his hands hopelessly looking for the answers to all his problems, for this boy was a spectacle all in himself. His sparkling emerald eyes glistened in the dark and the outline of a lighting bolt could be seen through the threads of hair that rested on his forehead. For this was no ordinary boy, this was the boy who lived, the boy for whom the entire wizarding world would look to for hope, and the boy who felt the most alone.

It had been two weeks since Harry had joined the Dursley's back at number four Privet Drive but it also had been two weeks since Harry saw his godfather Sirius fall behind the veil in the Ministry of Magic. Not a day had gone by that Harry wasn't haunted by some image that took place that night. The moment he realized he'd walked into a trap, the fight between the Order and the Death Eaters, and seeing Dumbledore and Voldemort duel. As much as he thought about all these elements only two caused Harry pain. Seeing Sirius fall behind the veil and the few moments Harry thought he'd lost Hermione forever. Harry was not yet sixteen but he carried the burden of someone three times his age, but this night was different. Harry wasn't thinking of Sirius or Hermione or even the prophecy, all he could think of was his parents and how much he wished they were alive. How he wished he could talk to them for advise or just have them listen while he talked about the responsibility he carried, but most of all Harry just wanted someone to hug him and tell him everything will be okay. He had been sitting by the window for over an hour just staring up at the sky. He didn't know why he woke up in the middle of the night; all he knew was that he needed to be sitting by that window watching the midsummer night.

Without warning Harry felt the need to speak, not to anyone or anything in particular but just out loud. "Mum, Dad . . ." Harry trailed off. "What am I suppose to do? Why did I have to be the boy who lived? Why couldn't it have been Neville?" Harry immediately knew the answer to that question. Although Neville showed an extreme amount of courage that night in the Ministry he still was not strong enough to face Voldemort. Harry's thoughts then drifted to Sirius, "Please tell Sirius I'm sorry," Harry half choked. He could feel the rush of emotions begin to overwhelm him but for some reason tonight he wasn't going to fight it. Tonight Harry was finally going to grieve for everyone he had lost and for all the pain he had caused. "It's all my fault," Harry quietly sobbed. "People have died and will die because of me . . . because I wasn't strong enough . . . because I didn't listen." Harry continued. Harry was now rocking back and forth with his head in his hands and his chest heaving up and down with every sob. The tears of sorrow and pain flowed down his face freely and began to soak his flushed cheeks.

In a stone tower far away from the likes of Privet Drive and old wizard lye awake in his bed with silent tears of his own. For he could feel the youths pain and was powerless to do anything. In his mind he was responsible for causing Harry so much heartache so soon in life. If he had only come clean with him and told him of the prophecy from the beginning maybe then things would be different, but the old wizard with the half moon glasses could not dwell in the past. It was a luxury he couldn't afford and with that he slowly got out of bed and head down to his office to plan how he could help Mr. Potter. As he entered the familiar office a voice interrupted his thoughts.

"The time will come for all the houses to unite, and the heir of Godric Gryffindor must lead this force into battle against the heir of Salazar Slytherin," the old sorting hat said. "For the only true weapon the young Gryffindor can use is that of love . . . the love of family, the love of a friend, and the most powerful of all, the undying love of another. For it's in these values that Slytherin knows not and this will be his undoing," the hat continued.

The old wizard smiled, "Yes your right, it is time to help Harry prepare." With that Dumbledore called for his phoenix. "Fawkes my dear friend take this Portkey to Harry," without hesitation the phoenix flew to a nearby window and pushed it open with its beak. Dumbledore followed and paused for a moment at the window, "Everything will be okay Harry, everything will be okay," the old wizard softly spoke and as he finished, the wind that whipped around the old castle changed direction and headed for Privet Drive.

Harry's water filled eyes intensely searched the sky above for answers to all his questions; he didn't even blink for fear that he would miss a sign or a message from the havens themselves. At that moment Harry felt a warm breeze envelop him and as if his Headmaster was sitting right next to him Harry could hear his words of comfort. With that Harry slowly made his way to the bathroom and washed his face and had a drink of water. He lay back down on his bed and for the first time in two weeks slept soundly through the rest of the night.