Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its general awesomeness.
A/N: I felt inclined to write some Harry angst; I felt like there must have been a day during the summer after 5th year that was almost too painful for him to get through. I think that it needs to be touched on.
Harry opened his eyes. There was a moment of clarity, he often felt, between the time when one wakes up- and when one remembers. He sighed as it came back to him. The sinking weight of grief turned his stomach. Sirius was dead and gone. Not for the first time, he wished blissful sleep would take him again. Only then was he ever free.
He rubbed his eyes and smoothed his hair back from his face. Harry reached for his glasses, trying to ignore the painful throbbing in his head. The nightmares went away. But the pain did not. He cursed his own weakness; he couldn't get himself to stop thinking of his godfather. Harry told himself to shut it out of his mind. Sirius wouldn't want me to feel like this, he thought. He would want me to live my life. But he didn't want to forget him. How could he go on without Sirius? He wanted to escape the grief. But it seemed wrong to try and forget about the man. Harry sighed. There was no way out. He was caught between his two halves.
Harry stood and paced his tiny room angrily. It was nearly the end of the summer, and still he could do nothing more than harp on the injustice of his life. He had plenty of reason to be upset, anyone who said otherwise obviously had not heard of everything that had happened to him. He almost laughed in spite of himself. Harry loathed the way he thought sometimes: so sorry for himself. I should be stronger than this, he thought venomously, I should be able to take this.
"Aarghhhh!" Harry kicked his dresser hard, ignoring the pain. He grabbed the books on his desk and hurled them to the floor with a crash. He seized his desk chair and overturned it. Harry slammed the closet door and used the remainder of his energy to though himself against it, fists slamming into the door repeatedly.
"Damn it all!" He cried. A moment later, a loud and angry voice echoed from down the hall.
"Shut up, boy!" Harry rounded, the fury glinting in his eyes wasted, for his uncle was out of sight. Harry threw open his bedroom door and yelled back,
"Shut up yourself! Leave me alone!" Furious, tromping footsteps approached Harry's bedroom door, and soon the bright red and fuming face of Uncle Vernon glared at Harry.
"Don't you show me such disrespect! Now quiet down or I'll stuff you back in that little cupboard and see you stay there for the rest of the summer!" He fumed, his hands balling into fists. It would have been comical if he didn't appear so close to grabbing Harry by the throat and choking the life from him. Harry spared not a moment in slamming his door in his uncle's face and holding it closed. At first Vernon rammed the door like an angry bull, yelling out curse words and threats, then finally grew tired and left. Harry let his hold on the door lessen and sank down into a sitting position against the wood. He shut his eyes and tried to forget everything. But he already knew he couldn't. It was just one of those days.