Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the recognised characters or places.

Prologue

"… Either must die at the hand of the other, for neither can live while the other survives". That was perhaps the only part of the prophecy which truly weighed on Harry's mind. The balance of that statement seemed unjust. Fate was forcing him to end the life of another person in order to continue living. Only due to the other person, if that was still an accurate description of the monster, being Lord Voldemort, does it release the guilt and make it seem somewhat possible to end the life of another.

Chapter One: Welcome the Hero

It was warmer than the typical summer for Surrey. The sun had been relentless in its goal of frying every living thing in its path. The local residents had taken to staying indoors with their air conditioners for the hottest parts of the day, and only emerging for the cool evenings to sit outside to enjoy their perfectly ordinary lives.

On a street which could have blended in with any other of the dozen like it you could find a particular boy. At first glance he would look like a scrawny young teenager, but most definitely not a 15 year old hero – that would be a rather large tag to put on a young man after all. Though at only one year old he had done what was thought to be the impossible, he defeated a man so evil he would kill with no needed reason, a man who would sacrifice his own soul not once, but eight times using the darkest of magic just to insure his immortality.

Unfortunately to the 'normal' and respectable Dursely family with whom he lived, the boy was nothing more than an unwanted nuisance who was only good for doing their house work.

The young Hero, who will henceforth be known as Harry Potter, as that happens to be his name, was in the backyard sweating over his aunt's garden which she wanted completely re-landscaped.

Harry would normally be against doing anything nice for the Durselys, as they definitely did not deserve it. Even though, he was proud of the job he had done. In his two weeks since returning he had completed the rather large list of jobs which his aunt had ordered him to accomplish. There was a certain satisfaction in working hard and having such great results at the end.

Perhaps the one great thing in Harry's life was attending the prestigious, Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, where he will be going into his sixth year. It would be the second last year before he was counted as a fully trained Wizard in the eyes of the British Ministry of Magic. Only those who completed their sixth year of education were able to perform magic outside of their school or they receive a warning Owl from the Ministry. If the offence was seen to be in major violation of this law, they received a summons for a trial.

Last summer this happened to Harry after a Dementor, one of the guards of Azkaban prison, acting under the orders of a high ranking Ministry official, went after Harry near his home. He had to use his wand to cast the Lumos spell in order to find his way from it. Normally a simple lighting spell would not be enough for a summons. However due to Harry's celebrity status and alignment with Dumbledore, he was not particularly popular with the Minister of Magic who would rather use Harry to boost his own political career.

"Boy, get in here if you want anything to drink or eat anything before dinner! We have guests coming over for lunch and we do not want you around when they arrive" Aunt Petunia screeched at him from the back porch.

"And make sure you clean up before coming in! I have just cleaned the floors and do not want you to muddy them up".

Wiping the sweat from his face, he nodded in affirmation.

"Yes Aunt, I've just finished the last of the weeding anyway".

Harry made his way to the hose near the back door. As he only had one pair of shoes and it was a hot day, he decided to just hose them down on the lawn and put them back on later. At least his feet would stay cool for a while. Once inside he made himself a sandwich with the items his Aunt had left out, and poured a glass of cold water from the fridge.

Enjoying the relative freedom he would have for the morning he told his relatives that he would stay out of the house until the afternoon.

"Good, boy, at least we won't have to cover for you if any of your freakiness happens. This lunch is too important for you to disturb!"

His uncle had still not forgiven him for what had happened during his second year when Dobby had dropped the cake on the head of a rather important guest from his work.

Harry made his way down to the park at the end of the street where he would normally spend most of his time away from the Dursleys. His mind wondered to the events of the last year and the inevitable subject of his Godfather, Sirius, and his death. All of his friends had told him repeatedly that he was not to blame, but they could not understand. He had been deceived by Voldemort by being shown a false scene of him torturing Sirius so Harry, being the fool that he was, would race to his aid. It was his fault for not making more of an effort in Occlumency training with Snape. If he had, he would have been able to, if not block, at least see the memory as a false.

Working in the garden had given him the drive had needed in distracting his mind from the events, reducing the amount of tension and anger that had built up. The physical exhaustion after a full day of hard labour was exactly what he needed; he would fall asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. He was still grieving, though without the raw emotion, it was able to be a moderately happy experience in remembering Sirius and the good times they shared during their short time together.

It had not been easy losing the only true parental figure he remembered in life. While Sirius was definitely not the typical parental figure, he was the closest Harry could remember ever having. An adult who actually wanted Harry in their life away from Hogwarts and who didn't treat him like a broken toy that needed coddling. The Weasleys were a fantastic family, he did believe Molly and Arthur truly cared for him, but not in the same way as Sirius. He was one of the last links to what he could have had, also a reminder of what was taken away from him.

Realising where his current train of thought was taking him, he focused on the walk instead. Though the memories of losing Sirius were hurting less, they were still raw.

"Stay focused Harry, you are here and now, you are your own person and will take control of your own life".

That had become a sort of mantra for him in the last week. Once the initial depression had taken over, he realised that it was not what he wanted. Sirius was a happy, fun person who would hate to see Harry beating himself up. Sirius had spent all those years away from happy thoughts, of freedom and even the basic amenities everyone enjoys, yet he had been able to break through that. Harry had never seen him more alive than duelling his cousin Bellatrix, the thrill on his face of making his own choices. That would be how he remembered him.

A smile made its way onto his face. That is how he would remember him.

A/N: Please review!