Title: What he can never Have

Subject: General/Action/Adventure/Romance

Summery: OoP SPOILERS! An angry and brooding Harry faces his 6th year at Hogwarts, finding love, friendship, and sacrifice among those truly loyal to him. Slight R/Hr. Harry is now faced with a question: what is it that Dumbledore mentioned that only Harry has in him, the thing Lord Voldemort can never have, the thing hidden beyond one of the locked doors in the Department of Mysteries?

Rating: PG -13

Disclaimer: I don't own anything Harry Potter related, it's all J.K. Rowling's insanely genius creation.

A/N: I truly hope you enjoy this story. I've put much thought into it. I just couldn't help but put the Ron and Hermione fluff, however small it is. I love them together, though they're not in this story, just some hints and bits. Some feedback would be great; I don't want to abandon this story anytime soon, so some support is highly appreciated.

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Chapter 1- Bitter Reminder

"Are you alright, dear," said a wispy voice, stirring Harry from his usual daydreaming.

"What...yeah, I'm fine," Harry said vaguely, lifting his eyes from the last dregs of tea left at the bottom of his cup. He realized he'd just drifted off again, consumed by a mixture of cat and cabbage smell.

"As I was telling you, dear, there will be a small ceremony near Grimmauld Place," Mrs. Figg said slowly, keen to see Harry's reaction.

"Ceremony?" Harry asked, snapping his head toward Mrs. Figg, who quickly looked away. Her own teacup lay abandoned in front of her on the coffee table in the spinsterish looking drawing room. One of her cats prowled about, staring at Harry with its great yellow eyes. "What ceremony," he repeated, hints of anger in his tone now.

"A...um...a funeral ceremony," said Mrs. Figg, picking up her teacup again. "For your godfather, Sirius."

Harry felt that the last part was rather unnecessary to say as a prick of emotion came over him. He quickly squashed it aside and said, "And what about it?"

"I thought you might want to go, Dumbledore said you would," said an uncertain Mrs. Figg. "Unless of course you don't want-"

"Of course I want to," snapped Harry, trying hard to not think of something he'd tried to block from his mind for over a month.

"Good, then, I'll inform Dumbledore, and you will go to Grimmauld Place on August first around noon. You'll need to pack up all you things, since you'll be staying there for the rest of the summer. Some Order members will be there to pick you right from your doorstep, so don't you worry." Mrs. Figg said all this in a set tone, as if she'd been practicing it for some time, and she spoke her last words as though she was quite unsure of them herself.

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Harry stumbled out of Mrs. Figg's house some time later, at first unsure of where he was going. The sky was turning an orange color due to the setting sun on the horizon. He felt blinded by it, hating it for being so powerful and beautiful. It's just a funeral, said a voice in Harry's head, sounding a lot like his best friend Hermione. But it's Sirius's funeral, said another voice, a desperate voice, much like Ron's.

Harry somehow made it back to the Dursley house, walked into the dining room automatically, and sat down on a chair. He heard the clang and clatter of knives and forks around him. Aunt Petunia was setting the table for dinner, her lips pursed tightly. Moments later Dudley appeared out of nowhere it seemed, and sat down opposite Harry, not uttering a word. Harry heard the TV click off in the drawing room and Uncle Vernon bulked in. He also did not speak, but sat down heavily on a chair and started serving himself some steak. Aunt Petunia sat down silently and followed suit.

This was considered a perfectly normal dinner for the Dursleys nowadays, as they spoke not a word while they ate. Harry didn't mind at all, not having to answer any accusing questions or even listen to his only living relatives talk about their own lives. The Dursleys had stopped having any sort of conversation in front of Harry, who only saw them at meal times anyway. No words were exchanged unless it was very necessary, which Harry avoided, taking refuge in his room mostly. He did leave the house once in a while on the note of taking a stroll around the neighborhood, but actually ending up at Mrs. Figg's house.

Harry's visits to Mrs. Figg were quite uneventful, as Mrs. Figg rarely spoke of anything related to magic, fearing unseen spies and eavesdroppers. The highlights of their get-togethers were usually when Mundungus Fletcher Apparated unexpectedly now and then, and babbled on about the Order, or of the lack of what he knew about the Order anyway. From what he got from Mundungus (before Mrs. Figg started telling him off that is), Harry gathered that Number Twelve Grimmauld Place was still being used as Headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix, now only inhabited by Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks. At first Harry wondered why Tonks would be living in his Godfather's house, then quickly realized that she was afterall a Black, however distant. Perhaps the house was now in her possession.

Mundungus had also led on that more members were swooping into to join the Order, with Dumbledore's approval of course. That's no surprise, thought Harry. Afterall, now that the whole of the wizarding community knew about Voldemort's return, they were bound to join Dumbledore's side.

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After dinner Harry quietly made his way up to his bedroom, unsure of whether he would be looking forward to be going back to Grimmauld Place, even if it meant he'd be among the people he cared about most.

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A/N: I will update soon, I promise. So add me to your list of favorite stories, I'll have it coming! And don't forget to review.