A/N: Hi, this is Squall Thrawn, and here's my story. This is my first story in this particular fandom, but I have written slash fiction before. So please tell me what you think!!

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or anything connected to it; that would be JK Rowling and Scholastic Books

Note: This Chapter was updated as of 10/17/07

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Going Through the Motions

by Squall Thrawn

Chapter 1 - Going Through the Motions

Lightning flashed across the sky, as raindrops beat a steady rhythm on the roof of the Leaky Cauldron. It had been raining nonstop for three days, and Harry Potter was getting tired of being cooped up in the room he had been staying in for the last week.

'Only four more days until Fall Term starts,' thought Harry. He had mixed emotions about that fact. Going back to Hogwarts meant Harry could no longer avoid his friends for long periods of time. On the other hand, he wouldn't have to deal with the Dursleys until next summer and he would have plenty of homework to occupy his time.

Due to the fact that there were few places left that Dumbledore had deemed safe for Harry, and because he had refused to stay at Grimmauld Place for obvious reasons, Harry had spent almost the whole summer with the Dursleys. Luckily, ever since Uncle Vernon's confrontation at the train station with Mad-Eye Moody, the ex-Auror and member of the Order of the Phoenix, all three of the Dursleys had left him completely alone for the summer. Beyond Aunt Petunia slipping food twice a day through the cat flap installed on his door, he had had little contact with any of them. And the freedom had been greatly appreciated. Unfortunately, after a few days of nobody but his owl, Hedwig, to talk to, Harry's mood had gone spiraling down. Harry's thoughts had constantly dwelt on Sirius and his death at the Department of Mysteries. And despite Dumbledore's insistence that he was blameless, Harry still felt responsible for what had happened.

'Just like Cedric,' thought Harry to himself. The previous summer, Harry had spent many nights having dreams of that night in the graveyard when Voldemort had come back to full power. And Voldemort's almost offhand command to 'Kill the spare,' the spare meaning Cedric. Killed simply for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. But even these paled in comparison to this summer's nightmares that showed up practically every night. A common theme was Sirius just beyond that veil of death, reaching out towards Harry. But no matter how much Harry tried, he just couldn't get there, as if something was holding him back. Many times it was Lupin holding him back, but other times it was Voldemort, Dumbledore, or even Bellatrix Lestrange, cackling. Once in a great while, it wasn't even Sirius clawing for help, but instead was Cedric Diggory.

Over the summer, Harry received countless letters from Ron, Hermione, Lupin, even Hagrid. And they had all been dropped into a drawer unopened. As grateful as Harry was that his friends cared enough about him to worry, that was overshadowed by Harry's fear that if he kept them too close, Voldemort would target them to hurt Harry. After what had happened to Cedric and Sirius, Harry knew that if he lost Ron or Hermione he would die. So Harry had resolved to try to keep his friends at a safe distance. Also, he knew that they would be asking how he was holding up, and he wasn't sure if he was ready to properly answer such a complicated question.

Throughout Harry's entire fifth year of school, he had been in a perpetual state of anger. Anger at Dumbledore for avoiding him, anger at Snape for, well, being Snape. He had gotten angry at Umbridge, Cornelius Fudge, and even Ron and Hermione when they had gotten on his bad side. Now, he couldn't even muster enough energy to be even slightly ticked off. He missed Cedric, though the time he had known the boy had been far too short. He missed Sirius Black, who had been the closest Harry had ever had to a father-figure. Most of all, he missed his old life, when the most he had to worry about was failing Potions or falling asleep in Professor Binns's class. Now he had to deal with the fact that he and Voldemort were in a struggle to the death, and that at least one of them was going to die. At least. How was Harry supposed to sum all that up into an answer they could accept?

So as Harry laid on his bed in the Leaky Cauldron listening to the music of the falling rain and running those horrible thoughts through his head for the umpteenth time, he decided to try practicing his Occlumency. It had helped, somewhat, with his nightmares recently. It wasn't fail proof, however; he had had a particularly horrible one the night before, where Sirius and Cedric were standing together and blaming him for their deaths while Ron and Hermione lay nearby having the Cruciatus curse performed on them by Death Eaters. Attempting to block that horrible image that sprung back into his mind, Harry tried to concentrate on emptying his thoughts and clearing his mind.

Just then, somebody knocked on Harry's door, breaking his concentration.

"Oi, Harry, are you in there?" Harry recognized Ron's voice. The knocking grew louder. "Harry, come on, it's Ron. Open up!"

Harry inwardly groaned. Ron had finally arrived at the Leaky Cauldron, and that meant that the rest of the Weasleys and Hermione were around as well. Once again, he appreciated their concern, but felt that they didn't understand how he was feeling and wasn't really in the mood for hearing all the trite remarks that were bound to be used. However, Harry wasn't callous enough to just ignore his best friend after not seeing him for two months.

Harry opened the door slowly, to see Ron Weasley standing in the hallway. Hard as it was to believe, the tall redheaded boy had actually grown another couple of inches. It also looked like he had bulked up a little, most likely to aid his abilities on the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

"Well, there you are, Harry," said Ron, a ready smile on his face... a smile that quickly disappeared as he observed Harry's appearance. Despite the fact that Harry had gained an inch or two over the summer, he appeared to have actually lost weight. Ron also couldn't fail to notice the bags and dark circles under Harry's eyes. "Blimey, Harry, you look like Sir.. I mean, you look like you haven't slept or eaten for days!"

"Oh, I've been eating and sleeping.. some..," said Harry with a false smile in place. Hopefully, if he played this right, he could get Ron off the subject so that he wouldn't have to answer any probing questions. "Just haven't been too hungry. Not that you'd know what that feels like," added Harry, poking Ron in the stomach.

"Stupid prat," muttered Ron, rubbing the spot where Harry had poked him. "I bloody well can't help it. Blame my parents or something..."

"I'll be sure to relay that message on to them, Ron. I'm sure they'll be thrilled to hear it," said Harry lightly.

Just then, Hermione came down the hallway.

"Harry!" Hermione squealed when she saw him. She quickly gave Harry a hug, also noticing his gaunt appearance. "So, how was your summer? How come you didn't answer any of our letters? Dobby keeping your mail from you again, for some reason?"

Harry frowned. "I sent you a letter. A couple weeks ago, I believe."

"Oh, we got that one, mate," said Ron a little bitterly. "A long one, too. 'Hi Ron and Hermione, I'm doing fine, thanks for the birthday cards, hope to see you soon, Harry.' Hope you didn't slave too long over that one." Ron glared at Harry, but Harry just returned the look blankly.

"Look, Harry," said Hermione kindly. "I know you're feeling bad because of what happened, but this isn't healthy. And Tonks told us that you spent a good portion of the summer laying in bed staring up at the ceiling. Come on, Harry, tell us what's the matter."

Harry sat down on his bed and stared down at the floor. "I'm sorry, guys. I just don't feel like talking about it right now." Harry looked back up at his two friends. "Please trust me, though. When I do, you'll be the first ones I tell."

Ron looked unconvinced, but Hermione pulled at his sleeve and gave him a meaningful look. "Well, we'll hold to that, Harry," she said. Then she pulled out an envelope. "How did you do on your OWLs, Harry? I did a lot better than I expected on some of mine, I was quite happy. My parents were so overjoyed, they gave me some money to buy whatever I want on Diagon Alley. So I went over to Flourish and Blotts and picked up an Arithmancy text I've been wanting to read."

"Books!" muttered Ron in a disbelieving tone. "She gets a bit of money, spends it on books!"

Silently, Harry pulled his OWLs results out of his trunk, careful to not reveal all of his unopened summer letters tied up with string. He handed the results to Hermione, who immediately started perusing them.

"Wow, Harry, you did pretty good," said Hermione. "But how did you fail History of Magic and Divination?"

"Well, on Divination," said Ron, "he probably failed it the same way I did. It's a wooly subject, and Trelawney sure didn't help matters."

"You also might remember," said Harry, "that I never got to finish my History of Magic exam because I fell asleep and had that nightmare that Voldemort planted in my brain, about the Department of Mysteries.." Harry's face, briefly cheerful during the diatribe on Trelawney and Divination in general, had lost its smile once he mentioned the Department of Mysteries. Ron and Hermione exchanged glances.

"But look at this, Harry," said Hermione, trying to cheer Harry up again. "your OWL grades are high enough to get you into the right NEWT classes! If you work hard enough, you could become an Auror like you wanted!"

Instead of cheering Harry up, this comment seemed to have the opposite effect. Harry looked even worse, his face gaunt and almost haunted. He still tried to sound chipper, while failing miserably. "You know, Hermione, that this means two more years of Potions... with Snape. I've been looking forward to that all summer." Harry rolled his eyes. "Besides, I've been reconsidering the whole Auror path. I'm not sure I'm up to all this extra studying and very tough classes. I'd sort of like to enjoy my last years.."

"Of Hogwarts, you mean?" said Ron, hopefully.

"Or whatever," said Harry, his voice going back to a monotone.

"Harry, you can't give up," said Ron, strongly. "Voldemort hasn't beaten you once, and besides, we've got Dumbledore on our side. And we'll stand behind you, won't we, Hermione?"

"I appreciate your confidence," said Harry quietly. "But indirectly, Voldemort has beaten me.. twice. Cedric... Sir..ius." Hermione looked amazed that he had actually said Sirius's name. "I'm not sure I can take another loss like that. And I just don't see the point to all of this vigorous schooling, if the only result will be a well-learned corpse laying in front of Voldemort instead of a stupid one." Harry laid back on his bed and started gazing at the ceiling.

"Oh, Harry," said Hermione, almost in tears. At this point, she almost missed the angry-at-the-world phase he had gone through last year. It had been hard, but she had dealt with it. Depressed, fatalistic Harry... it was far worse.

There was an awkward silence for a while, as Harry continued his scrutiny of his room's ceiling and Ron and Hermione tried to come up with a response to Harry's last comment.

"So, did you hear how the Chudley Cannons fared in the league this year?" asked Ron, finally.

Harry's eyes flickered towards Ron. "Did they actually win a game?"

"Oy!" shouted Ron. "You'll pay for that one, just you wait and see!"

As the two boys bantered back and forth, Hermione could pick up just the lightest twinge of the old Harry in his responses. Hermione silently resolved to bring that old Harry back.