By the time Harry had finally been allowed to leave Dumbledore's office, the rest of the school had woken and were now chatting happily with their friends. He listened with envy as their laughter filled his ears. Would he ever laugh again? Would he even smile again? or feel anything that wasn't pain? It was just completely unfair that he was always the one suffering, always the one expected to save the day, always the one with the power to defeat the dark lord... NO! he told himself dont think about that right now. But as soon as he thought that it became immeasurably hard to block out the words ringing in his ears, printed in front of his eyes, ripping through his heart. The one with the power...He started running...Born as the seventh month dies...He had to escape, to get away from the death chant... mark him as his equal... His eyes were stinging now...Power the dark lord knows not. Coming to an abrupt halt he realised where his feet had taken him to and before he could stop his damned feet he was walking through the massive oak doors of the great hall towards gryffindor table. But apparently it was too much to ask to go unnoticed this once for mere seconds after he entered everyone in the hall turned to look at him as one. Harry's footsteps echoed loudly through the thick silence but he kept going until he reached his usual space at gryffindor table but it wasn't until he got there that he noticed the absence of his best friends. His breath hitched in his throat as he remembered the nights events, he was about to get up and run to the hospital wing when he came to his senses. The whole room was still staring at him with eyes as wide as galleons until "Blimey Harry whats happened to you?" asked Dean in an awed and slightly worried voice. How would they know something had happened to him? Was it that obvious? He looked down at himself for the first time that night and nearly spat his pumpkin juice all down himself. He looked dreadful! Not only was he covered head to toe in Grawps blood but mix that with his own blood, cuts, bruises, scratches and torn robes and he might aswell have just told them he'd been fighting death eaters. "Err its been abit of a rough night" said Harry hoping against hope that they wouldn't make him elaborate. Dean and Seamus just gave each other one of those looks that Hermione and Ron usually shared when they knew Harry wasn't telling them something but he didn't care what they thought because the pang that jolted his heart when he thought of Ron and Hermione told him he needed to go and check that they were okay. He needed... Sirius. The suffocating ache in his heart that had dissipated in the silence and the eyes watching him had returned at full force and was currently threatening to overwhelm him but he couldn't let anyone see him break down and so he ran. He ran as fast as he could and kept going, through the entrance hall, up a flight of stairs, along a few corridors, down a flight of stairs and then he suddenly found himself at the top of the astronomy tower. How had he gotten here?