Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I wish I did. Despite that, I hope you enjoy my spin on it.

Chapter 1:

"A mystery, and a dream, should my early life seem." – Edgar Allen Poe

Harry Potter was alone. So, incredibly alone. At least that is how he felt. How could he not? Witnessing the death of the only family you ever had, would do that to you. It had only been two weeks since the death of Sirius Black, since Harry's godfather had fallen through the veil. In that two weeks Harry had cried more than ever before, but soon that sadness, that pain had grown into anger.

In the beginning he blamed himself. After all, it had been his idea to go rescue Sirius. It was Harry's idea to leave the school, to break into the Ministry, to transverse the Department of Mysteries and the dreadful Hall of Prophecies. He hadn't been dealing with the guilt well. Thoughts of what had happened harassed him day after day, and at night they invaded his dreams. At first he had considered it a curse, his mind had become a prison, but prison does always leave a person with a different outlook on life. It certainly did that for Harry.

All of the thoughts, all of the concerns led Harry to question so much in his life. In how many ways could the death of Sirius Black have been prevented? Whose responsibility was it truly? How else had those people let him down? Why had he been so unprepared, uneducated? Rage boiled inside of him, rage towards one man, Albus Dumbledore.

Harry had been a devout follower of the "Leader of the Light" for so long. He had done everything asked of him. Harry bent to the man's will. Dumbledore returned none of the dedication. All of his thoughts regarding the death of Sirius had led Harry to reconsider the role Dumbledore had played in his life.

Abandoned on the doorstep in the cold of the night, left to live with his mother's sister and Petunia's family, Harry grew up neglected, despised and abused. Never knowing magic, but being hated for it. The worst part about it was knowing that it could have been prevented. Dumbledore should have known that Sirius wasn't the secret keeper. Even if he didn't the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot should have ensured the man received a trial. Harry should have at least been checked on, but he wasn't.

Exposure to the Wizarding World continued Harry's problems. Hagrid had been his first contact with magic, and despite his fondness for the part-giant teacher, Harry did not feel that the man was well suited to acclimating someone to the world of magic. As soon as he got to school he faced peril and the troubles never ceased. First year Voldemort had been allowed in the school in attempt to steal the philosopher's stone. It had been up to Harry and his friends to prevent him from getting it. Second year a Basilisk roamed the halls intending to kill students, again it came down to Harry, still a child, to resolve the situation. Third year Dementors, allowed on the school grounds by the Headmaster, assaulted Harry on several occasions. Without Professor Lupin teaching him the patronus charm Harry would not have survived his third year. In fourth year a madman impersonating a teacher forced Harry to compete in the deadly Triwizard tournament. Harry really didn't understand this one, Dumbledore was suppose to be a good friend of Moody. How didn't the man see through the ploy? Dumbledore's negligence ended up costing Cedric Diggory his life and resulted in Voldemort's resurrection. Finally, fifth year had been a travesty, centered around a prophecy. If Harry had been allowed to hear the prophecy from the beginning then Sirius would not have died, Arthur Weasley wouldn't have been attacked, and Harry wouldn't have put everyone he loves in danger. Add on top of that the presence of Dolores Umbridge within Hogwarts and Snape's lessons in "remedial potions" (occlumency) fifth year had been a travesty.

Harry wouldn't stand for it anymore. If he had his way, he would no longer be submitted to the whims of the old man. Voldemort had Harry in the cross-hairs and he had to be ready. Far behind Voldemort, in age, in experience, in knowledge, Harry needed to catch up. He needed to reevaluate his life and his decisions. He was limited though. He was held up in his family's home, unable to do magic, unable to leave. Things were going to stay like that for the foreseeable future.

He didn't have many options. Fortunately an agreement had been made between Harry and his relatives. In reality "threat" might be more accurate than "agreement." Members of the Order had ensured that Harry's family left him alone. In fear of magic and certainly in fear of Mad-Eye his relatives complied with the stipulations. They would stay away from him and he would stay in his room, only leaving to go to the bathroom and to grab food. The alone time gave Harry several advantages. Not having chores to do left him a large amount of time to study. His family would leave him alone. He would be uninterrupted.

Limited by his inability to do magic, Harry decided to focus on theory. When he originally decided to take Divination and Care for Magical Creatures he wanted the easy path. He made a mistake. He couldn't take the classes or the OWL, but he could study courses independently, courses like Arithmancy and Runes. Runes required magic to use, but very little and not enough to inhibit his basic study of the subject. Independent occlumency study was on the schedule too. He wouldn't be able to test it against anyone's legilimency, but maybe he could try to start somewhere. He also wanted to check out his year six books early. It would allow him to get a head start, if he couldn't perform the magic he could at least read about the theory and the memorize the spells. Within moments of the idea occurring to him the order was out to Flourish and Blotts. Now he waited.

Waiting was taking longer than expected. At least that is how it seemed to Harry. He wanted to be doing something. The waiting made him antsy and his body jittery. He needed something to do. Often times he would go flying on his broom when his body got like this, or during the summer his regular chores managed to satisfy the urges. He decided he would do what exercises he could within the confines of his room. He started with stretches then basic pushups and sit-ups. Those didn't last very long so he decided to go for a run. On leaving his Aunt began to speak, shout really, but she quickly stopped, apparently deciding that Harry's antics were not worth her time.

Harry gently jogged along the walks of Little Whinging, Surrey. He didn't wander far. He couldn't while knowing the odds of an Order Member watching him. Nonetheless he enjoyed the run. It calmed him and allowed him to stop the flow of his stream of thoughts. Maybe I need to do this more often. Something about being outside felt right to him, felt natural. Despite being in the center of a residential area Harry still felt as if he could feel life teeming around him. He halted his run at a small park not far from number four. Having worn himself out Harry decided to lie down in the grass. The feel of the blades on his skin, the scent of the air that hung around him, they made him feel alive. More alive than he had felt in some time.

"Wotcher, Harry Potter!" The voice startled Harry. His body tensed and he shot up to find a small woman, with light blonde hair, vibrant blue eyes and alabaster skin.

"Who are you?" Harry made a move towards his wand, only to find it missing. He left it at the house and was now deeply regretting that decision.

"Really, Harry? You can't tell? What a shame. I would show you, but you know, muggles and all kind of prevent me from changing."

Then it clicked for him. "Hello, Nymphadora." A wry grin crept across the boy's face as the name flowed from his lips.

"Don't you dare call me that!" Her face began to turn a light pink. Whether it did that in embarrassment or in anger Harry was not sure.

"How are you, Tonks? Stuck with guard duty today?"

"Volunteered actually. I am pretty good. You? Did you enjoy your run?"

"You volunteered? Why would you do that?"

"Well, I was asked to deliver something to you. Something you may be needing very soon." The young auror reached out, a small card in hand. Harry quickly took it, curiosity getting the best of him.

The card read:

Andromeda and Ted Tonks

Magical Solicitors

#52 Diagon Alley, London, England

"Doing your parents a favor, Tonks? What do I need a solicitor for?"

"Doing a favor for Sirius, Harry." That struck him. Hard.

"Nymphadora Tonks, you had best be telling me the truth! What in Merlin's name would Sirius want me to have a solicitor for?"

Tonks began to slowly walk towards the trees. "That, I suppose, you will find out very soon. Try not to be too startled, she does bare an uncanny resemblance to Bellatrix." Tonks ducked behind a couple of trees as she finished her statement.

"Who, does? What are you talking about, Tonks?" He heard a soft pop and Nymphadora Tonks left, Little Whinging, Surrey.

Frustrated Harry decided it was time to go back to number 4. He hoped that the books he had requested would be there by now. That way he could forget all about the oddity that was Tonks. He had perfect timing. As soon as he walked into his room there was a soft tap on his window. The sight of Hedwig, carrying a small parcel, was one for sore eyes. He let her in, gave her a treat and graciously accepted the items she carried. "Thank you, girl." The bird let out a small squawk, as if to say "of course."

Harry unwrapped the package to discover several small books, clearly under a shrinking charm. It took almost 30 minutes for the charm to wear off, but as soon as it did Harry had opened Mental Mastery: The Beginners Guide to Mind Magic and flipped quickly to the section on Occlumency.

An hour later and Harry sat on the ground, legs crossed, eyes closed, breathing deeply in and out. Occlumency required proficiency in meditation, the ability of a person to separate themselves from their emotions. To reach a calm no matter the situation. The most important thing the book emphasized was that the emotions not be disregarded or hid away. It was about acceptance and confronting those emotions, not bottling them up. The internal confrontation hadn't been easy for Harry. He replayed moments of his life again and again in his head, moments that hurt, moments that he did not want to think about, but he had to. If he didn't he would not get anywhere with occlumency training. Harry Potter cried himself to sleep that night; he cried until he couldn't cry anymore.

The next couple of days he started to develop a routine. He would begin the morning with some physical exercise, stopped at the park for about an hour and then returned to his relative's home to meditate and study. The meditation proved useful in more ways than one. Harry felt happier; he felt healthier. He began to come to terms with many things he refused to confront before. Meditating also seemed to help him with his other studies. He could remember information better and make connections better than before. Runes and Arithmancy intrigued him, and he immediately regretted not taking them in third year. They had so many applications and so much potential. The way to two played off of each other compelled him to read more and more.

Jump ahead another week and the boy sat meditating, for the first time sensing his magical core. The realization invigorated him. As he focused on it he could feel the magic coursing through his entire body. From that point on Harry Potter understood himself better than ever before. It was intimate. It was primal. It was true. A more true experience than any he had experienced in the last 15 years. The prospects of understanding were exhilarating. Soon he would give his magic a form, a body, within his mind. The next step in his occlumency studies required creating a Sanctuary, as the book called it. A Sanctuary gave structure and body to the internal world. It allowed the individual to protect, to defend their thoughts and their memories. He fell asleep that night excited at the prospects of starting construction on his Sanctuary. Unfortunately he would not get that chance.

"Boy! Get up!" His uncle violently pounded on Harry's bedroom door. Merlin, what did I do? "I said get up, Boy! One of your freaks is here!" Harry could here shuffles outside of his door as he scrambled to get dressed. As he got his pants on the door to his bedroom glided open and in walked… Bellatrix Lestrange? Harry reached for his wand. In an instant he had it drawn on the woman.

"Foolish boy. Put that down." As she spoke the words of Nymphadora Tonks echoed in his head. "She does bare an uncanny resemblance to Bellatrix."

"I am not a boy." He said defiantly.

"I will continue to call you boy as long as you continue to act like one. Now, boy, I said put down that wand." Harry lowered his wand. "Good, now I presume you know who I am? Nymphadora insisted she spoke to you."

"Mrs. Tonks?" He still gripped the wand, ready to react at any time.

"Yes, but I suppose you can call me Andromeda. Now may I call you Harry?" Harry started to say yes, but she continued along before he got the chance. "Now Harry, ready your things. We will be leaving shortly."

"Leaving? Mrs. Tonks… I mean, Andromeda, where exactly are we going?"

"First to Gringotts, for the will reading of Sirius, then I suppose wherever you would like after that. You will have a number of options from what I can gather." Will? Sirius's will? He didn't know if he could handle that. Not right now. Then again, what choice did he have? While he sat dumbfounded Andromeda grew impatient. With a flick of her wand Harry's possessions gathered near his feet and were promptly shrunken down. "Come along." With that Harry was off. Off to hear the will of the late Sirius Orion Black.