Disclaimer: Do you really think I own Harry Potter??????
Everybody has a story that can break your heart.
Sixteen-year-old Harry Potter sat up in his bed after yet another nightmare. His godfather, Sirius Black, had been killed not even a month before and it was all Harry's fault. At least in Harry's eyes. Harry had been tricked by Voldemort to go to the Department of Mysteries. Sirius followed him there and was killed by his demented cousin, Bellatrix.
Harry had been having dreams of that night every night since he got home for the summer. He had to put a silencing spell around him room so that he wouldn't wake his relative up when he woke from his dreams. Harry desperately wished that he had learned Occlumency because he had a growing suspicion that Voldemort had a part in the dreams and was probably provoking them.
Pushing his covers aside, Harry got up and stood by the window. The world was at peace, not knowing that a loco wizard named Voldemort might decide to attack them at any given time. Harry didn't think it was fair, that these people had no idea about Voldemort, yet they played such a large part in his plan. Harry gazed at the full moon, hoping that Remus was well. He would never be able to spend the full moon with one of his friends ever again. Because they were all gone.
Harry lay back on his bed. Leaning his head against his pillow, he allowed a tear to trickle down his face. He thought about what Sirius would want him to do. He knew without a shout of a doubt that Sirius wouldn't want him to grieve his death. Sirius would want Harry to be happy.
Holding on to that thought, Harry closed his eyes and he could have sworn that he felt Sirius' presence. With a small smile on his face, Harry drifted off to sleep, not to be woken until morning.
Everybody has a story that can break your heart.
Sixteen-year-old Harry Potter sat up in his bed after yet another nightmare. His godfather, Sirius Black, had been killed not even a month before and it was all Harry's fault. At least in Harry's eyes. Harry had been tricked by Voldemort to go to the Department of Mysteries. Sirius followed him there and was killed by his demented cousin, Bellatrix.
Harry had been having dreams of that night every night since he got home for the summer. He had to put a silencing spell around him room so that he wouldn't wake his relative up when he woke from his dreams. Harry desperately wished that he had learned Occlumency because he had a growing suspicion that Voldemort had a part in the dreams and was probably provoking them.
Pushing his covers aside, Harry got up and stood by the window. The world was at peace, not knowing that a loco wizard named Voldemort might decide to attack them at any given time. Harry didn't think it was fair, that these people had no idea about Voldemort, yet they played such a large part in his plan. Harry gazed at the full moon, hoping that Remus was well. He would never be able to spend the full moon with one of his friends ever again. Because they were all gone.
Harry lay back on his bed. Leaning his head against his pillow, he allowed a tear to trickle down his face. He thought about what Sirius would want him to do. He knew without a shout of a doubt that Sirius wouldn't want him to grieve his death. Sirius would want Harry to be happy.
Holding on to that thought, Harry closed his eyes and he could have sworn that he felt Sirius' presence. With a small smile on his face, Harry drifted off to sleep, not to be woken until morning.