Summary:

AU: Sirius is dead, the ministry has acknowledged Voldemort's return, and the rift between Harry and everything around him deepens. Things are spinning out of control and many surprises are around the corner…..

Note:

This story is post-OoTP. It will cover the summer after Sirius' death and Harry's 6th school year. I may also extend it to include his 7th year, but I haven't decided. Not sure of the pairings yet. Harry will become involved with multiple girls/women, but will only ultimately fall for one. This story WILL contain sexual content, so if you don't like reading sex scenes, don't fuckin' read the story. It will also contain violence and coarse language, so meh.

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Previously:

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Harry's surprised face echoed Voldemort's as they each found the other's wand pointed at their chest. For one hundredth of a second, they stared into each other's eyes, and then it all came to a head as they let their last spells fly and two mouths shouted in synchronisation:

"Avada Kedavra!!!!"

Green light erupted from both wands, encompassing the other caster's chest, expanding further and further outwards. A great dome of green suddenly discharged, and each duelist found themselves flung violently backwards to opposite ends of the street, where they lay like as if in death.

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Chapter 2: Recovery

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The Order had gotten organised; everyone had prepared themselves, ready for a fight, and ready to defend Harry. When Alastor Moody came hobbling back in the kitchen, he sounded almost in awe of the magic he had sensed in Privet Drive. Now everyone understood why.

The Order had arrived, everyone apparating to co-ordinates given by Albus Dumbledore, only to witness a scene that none would ever forget. As they popped into existence, they all looked to see Harry Potter on the ground clearly defeated. Voldemort stood over him, his wand raised as he shouted a curse.

A sickly green light shot from the wand, and the Order watched in horror and then awe as the curse shot towards Harry and he disappeared, only to reappear behind Voldemort as they both whirled on each other to shoot one final spell. The cry of 'Avada Kedavra' echoed in the ears of many of the Order members.

It took a few seconds after Harry and Voldemort had been flung back to their respective ends of the street for the Order to react. Three or four of their number noticed a Death Eater running towards the crumpled form of the Dark Lord, and they shot curses and hexes aplenty at the figure. Just as the spells were about to hit, the servant took ahold of his Lord's arm and both disappeared with a sharp crack.

Mad-Eye cursed. "Death Eater scum!" he cried.

Suddenly, a cry of fear sounded from off to the side, and the auror turned to see another Death Eater clutching his shoulder while staring at the Order members. A split second of silence passed before Moody was moving, his wand flashing quickly and putting the Death Eater down with a stunner. "Stupid," Mad-Eye muttered. "Always secure the scene."

He peg-legged it over to the Death Eater, bound and restunned him, then levitated him behind as he headed over to where the others had gathered. On the way, he noticed another Death Eater similar stunned and bound simply lying in the grass. A smirk crossed Moody's face as realisation came. "'Atta' boy, Potter."

With two bodies levitated behind him, he made a slow but steady way over to the still body of Harry Potter.

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The Order members were crowded around Harry's crumpled body, lying still and bleeding on the road. Blood ran from his mouth freely, his muscles twitched from over-exposure to the cruciatus curse and his entire shirt had been burnt to tatters with Voldemort's final curse. Smoke slowly curled up from his burnt chest, which was rising and falling unsteadily.

Tonks was on her knees beside him, tears running down her face, already running diagnostics charms and such, trying to find out the extent of the damage.

Dumbledore was already working, clearing off blood and soot and closing minor gashes.

The rest of the Order just stood and stared, Severus Snape included. Never had he imagined that such an arrogant little shit like Potter could match the Dark Lord in a duel, but that was obviously what had happened here today. God, he needed a drink.

Dumbledore took a deep shuddering breath, and then spoke, "We must get him to Hogwarts. He needs Madam Pomfrey."

"He needs more than that!" Tonks cried tearfully. "Jesus, his whole body's torn up." She abruptly turned her head sharply, looking for someone. "Where the hell is Fletcher!?" she spat.

"Later," came Dumbledore's reply. "Harry comes first."

With that, the group all disappeared; some accompanied Moody to the Ministry to deal with the Death Eaters, some headed back to headquarters, and some went to Hogwarts to accompany Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived.

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Arthur Weasley gave a tired sigh as he stepped out of the fireplace of the Burrow. He'd come home earlier to put Molly to bed. The poor woman had been hysterical and Arthur had had to stun her to get her to sleep. He'd then floo'd to Hogwarts to await news on Harry's condition

Word was that he would live, but both his physical and mental state were still undetermined at the moment.

At that moment, Bill, who was staying for the summer, came into the room, a curious gaze on his face. He was followed by Fred, George, Ron and Ginny.

"Hey, dad, what's up with mum? She's bloody passed out or something. She wasn't drinking too heavily or anything, was she?" Bill teased with a grin.

Arthur gave another defeated sigh before he himself moved to the liquor cabinet to grab a bottle of firewhiskey. "No," he answered, "she hasn't been drinking. You should all sit down, though."

Everyone noticed the seriousness in his face and sat down, waiting quietly. Even Gred and Forge didn't make a sound. Their eyes all widened when Arthur brought the bottle of firewhiskey to the table, accompanied by a glass for each of them. He quietly filled the glasses to the top and passed them around to everyone, including Ginny.

"Blimey," Ron broke the silence, "this must be serious if you're giving us whiskey."

Arthur just downed his entire glass and completely ignored both the looks of his children and the smoke that was steaming out of his ears.

"It's about Harry."

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Dumbledore sat in a comfortable chair of the Hogwarts hospital wing. It had been two days since Harry's encounter with Voldemort and Albus had been quite vigilant in staying and watching over Harry since he had been brought in. Poppy was also buzzing around, anxiously drowning the boy in pain-relieving and skin-regrowth potions. Needless to say, everyone was in quite a state about Harry's health.

No more so than Dumbledore. His head was buried in his hands and he had never looked older than he did right now.

Poppy came over and laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. "You need to rest as well, Albus. You have other duties, and well you know it."

Dumbledore just let out a sigh. "I failed him, Poppy. Not just because Mundungus kept falling asleep on his watch, but in a lot of other ways, I have failed Harry."

Indeed he had. He had kept the boy cooped up against his wishes. He had buried Harry under mountains of pressure with the contents of the prophecy. Hell, he had handed Harry off to Snape of all people, to teach the boy Occlumency.

It had to change. He would change it. He gave a nod of resolution and made a silent vow to make it up to the boy. If he survives, Albus thought bitterly. Much help I was!

He was just starting to beat himself up when Harry began to stir.

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Darkness surrounded him, and it was thick; impenetrable. Slowly it began to dissolve, his vision ever-so-slowly becoming clearer. Just before the last of the darkness faded, a voice echoed in his mind; powerful, confident.

Soon, young one….

Darkness took him again.

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Harry slowly awoke, his body aching, his head heavy. A small gurgle escaped his throat as he got accustomed to using his body again. Ever so gingerly, he opened his eyes and bright white walls flashed at him. His eyes quickly shut and then tentatively opened yet again, just enough to let in the smallest amount of light. It still hurt enough that he whimpered.

"Harry?" came a whisper from nearby.

Harry just cringed and whimpered again. "Too loud," he sobbed.

"Here, drink this," came another voice.

Something was pressed to his lips, and a hand was behind his head, helping him up. He quickly downed it and all the pain receded to a dull thrum, which could be ignored.

Harry let out a sigh of relief and then opened his eyes a third time. The noise level had reduced, and Harry was grateful for it. His throat no longer felt like raw burned parchment, so he was sure he would be able to speak. He was in the hospital wing somewhere, so there would be questions.

He didn't want to answer them. He didn't remember how he got here. All he remembered was that he used to feel empty, and now he felt too much. He felt the small rays of sunlight coming in through the window, the gentle breeze that followed. He heard the breathing of two people who were waiting for him to just spill his guts about whatever brought him here. And he most definitely felt the emptiness that was Sirius.

He hadn't even been able to think about Sirius the past few days (when he'd been awake). He'd wanted to; feeling that he owed it to the old dog to remember the good times and such, but he hadn't been able to. He couldn't feel anything. He hadn't felt his head hitting the wall as he sat on his bed for three days straight. He hadn't been able to feel the uncomfortable position he'd put his muscles in. He'd felt nothing. But he felt it now; Sirius was dead.

"Sirius is dead," he whispered.

There was a pause, and then "Harry?"

Harry was barely aware, but he recognised the voice of Albus Dumbledore. And he did not want to talk to that man right now. Not that man. Not the man who'd held Sirius captive like a fucking animal; imprisoned in his own house, unable to leave or visit anyone.

"Harry?" came Dumbledore's voice again.

"Don't," he whispered. "Just don't." And with that, Harry rolled over and welcomed the darkness, yet again.

----

Another day had passed, and Harry was well enough to move around. He had had a few visitors. Remus and Moody had come by; Remus to see his best-friends only child and Moody to say congratulations on a job well done with 'those damned death-munchers'. Harry hadn't talked much to either of them, but he did express to Remus that he wanted to talk to him over the rest of the summer. Remus had naturally agreed straight away.

Dumbledore had come to visit twice more, finally abandoning his post after Harry dismissed him. The first time he had visited, Harry had simply told him to 'fuck off!' Madame Pomfrey had been shocked at his treatment of the headmaster and had proceeded to lecture him and beat him over the head with a broom; she only stopped when she accidentally hit him on his still highly blackened and burnt chest and he couldn't hold back a scream of agony.

A few hours after both of them had settled down, the headmaster had come once again. Harry hadn't sent him away this time. He knew that he had to answer the old man's questions.

"I'm sorry about before, sir." Harry murmured as the old man took a seat. "I did not mean to sound quite so harsh."

"I understand Harry. It is not easy to lose a loved one. From the way you've been acting since you woke, can I assume that you had previously managed to block it all out?"

Harry gave a bitter smile. "Yeah, I did. Didn't feel anything. I didn't taste food, nor drink, I didn't feel that Death Eater's curse hit my arm, I didn't feel anything. And now I feel too much," he voiced quietly as tears began to run down his face.

"I told you at the end of last year Harry that it's not a crime to feel grief and heavy emotions after what you've been through. It is to be expected. And in some ways rejoiced; it means you are moving on."

"Yeah, well…I can get over Sirius' death," Harry murmured with a quiet certainty. "I don't want to, but I can do it. He wouldn't want me mopin' around anyway. Stupid flea-bag," he finished with a sudden laugh.

Dumbledore gave him a gentle smile, and Harry could see the depth of affection that the old man held for him. And he loved the old man back, he did. Loved him to death. But he couldn't forgive him. Not yet. Not for withholding that life changing prophecy.

"Poppy tells me you're able to move around now without too much trouble," Albus said, trying to lengthen the small talk before they got to the serious stuff.

"Yeah, I'll be glad to get out of here. I can move around fine, and all my injuries are healed, except for the burn on my chest."

Harry peeled his top off to expose his chest and Albus almost recoiled from the ugly blackened burn that existed there. The skin smelled charred and was peeling away. He was brought out of his musing as Harry continued speaking.

"It's gonna be one bitch of a scar," he said, temporarily forgetting that the old man next to him was not only his school teacher but his principal.

"Harry," Dumbledore admonished.

"Sorry," said Harry, with a sheepish look.

A companionable silence took hold of the room and Harry leant back on his pillows to enjoy the relaxing atmosphere. It was broken as Albus let out a sigh.

"Harry, I need to know what exactly happened. With Tom."

Harry let out a sigh of his own. He didn't want to do, but it was necessary. "Can we do this with your pensieve?" he asked. "I don't want to explain it; it'd just be easier by memory."

Dumbledore's face softened. "Of course, Harry. I happened to have brought it with me," he said, trying to lighten the mood. It didn't work.

"What do I need to do?"

"All you need to do, Harry, is to think of everything that happened. Remember the memory, and I'll extract it using my wand. You need to concentrate, though, and you must be specific about what you're remembering, otherwise I'll get a few minutes of irrelevant or random memories. Understand?"

Harry gave a nod and began to remember. He concentrated, barely noticing Dumbledore's wand come up to touch his temple and draw away with a silvery string. Dumbledore gave a noise of satisfaction as he deposited it into the pensieve. He turned to Harry. "Do you wish to watch it with me, Harry?"

Harry gave a shudder and shook his head. Dumbledore gave an understanding nod and then proceeded to dive into the memory. Harry saw the silvery liquid within shimmering about. Then he looked about, trying to remember all the good times he had had with Sirius. Tears came to his eyes and he burrowed into his pillow in the hopes of finding refuge. Eventually, he slept.

He was awakened approximately half an hour later as Dumbledore shook him. Harry grumbled and then rolled over to face the old man once again. His mind slowly processed the memory in which he had tried to make a bargain with the devil for Bellatrix Lestrange. This was not going to be a comfortable conversation.

He looked the Headmaster straight in the eye, unwilling to flinch away from his choices and his childish behaviour. What he saw surprised him; Dumbledore had a small twinkle in his eye. "Dumblenuts?" he questioned.

Harry started, then blushed beet-red. "Um… I was trying to get him to believe I didn't know the contents of the prophecy," he explained in a rush.

Dumbledore looked on with amusement and understanding. Then he grew worried.

"Harry… would you really have joined him? If he had given you Bellatrix?" His voice was soft, but there was a severe urgency that Harry could pick out.

"A few days ago, I might have. I would have gone with him, and taken Bellatrix. And then played it by ear until he killed me. But now… no. I'll never join him. And I won't barter my soul simply for Bellatrix. I won't even hunt her down."

Dumbledore gave a relieved sigh as he could tell Harry was not lying. Legilimency was good for something, he thought. However, Harry continued.

"But know this, sir. If she comes to me, or if I happen to come across her, I will kill her, and there is nothing you can do to stop me." Albus looked into the boy's mind as he spoke these words, and it pained him to see that Harry was telling the truth. To think that his decisions had caused the boy to come to such a low point in life as to consider murder.

"Very well, Harry," he whispered. "I appreciate you being honest, and I thank you for your continued efforts in thwarting Voldemort's schemes. You should be proud of the way you handled yourself the other day."

Harry's look clearly indicated he didn't care, but he replied anyway. "Thanks."

Albus nodded again. "Well, Harry. Now that you've seen fit to enlighten me as to what has occurred, I can enlighten you as to what will happen to you for the rest of the summer."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "Will I have to go back to the Dursleys?"

Dumbledore bowed his head. "Unfortunately, Harry, yes. For the blood-protection wards. However, you will not be idle. Over the break, I shall supply you with any reading materials you wish, and I will have someone teach you Occlumency." He saw Harry's look and cut him off. "No, Harry, it will not be Professor Snape, and yes, Occlumency is necessary for you to master."

The boy had a look of relief on his face at the mention of not being mind-raped by Snivellus. "Thank you, Merlin!"

Dumbledore gave a chuckle. "Well, I'm not quite Merlin, young Harry, although I've been told I do look like him." He noted Harry's amused glance. "Now, there is something else, Harry. You will also be having training over the summer with none other than … myself."

Harry's head shot up like a dog after a bitch in heat. "W-With you?" he stammered. "Er…. Um, wow. Er, what will I be learning?"

Dumbledore looked amused at his stammering. His answer, however, was rather vague. "I'll be teaching you a little bit of this, and bit of that, young Harry. I must warn you, it will not be combat training. At least," he smirked," not until we get rid of that terrible burn, hmm?"

"Um, okay. Cool. Any kind of training is better than sitting around doing nothing at that place."

Dumbledore gave a wide, beaming smile and stood up. "Good. Then I'll come see you later today, and I believe Poppy will be ready to release you."

"But, sir… what about this burn?" He indicated his blackened chest.

"Ah, well if Poppy wishes to keep you in here till that goes away, we shall be waiting a rather long time. Have a good day, Harry." And with that, the old man walked out of the Hogwarts Hospital wing, his pensieve carried under his arm.

As soon as the door closed, Harry leant back to try and relax, but it was not to be as the door slammed open and numerous people ran across to clutch at his bedside. He looked up as Ron, Hermione, Fred, George, Remus and Ginny approached.

Harry tried to smile, but it didn't come out all that well. "Hey guys," he murmured.

He noticed Hermione had tears in her eyes and Ron looked like he wanted to thump Harry on the back in greeting; luckily, he was held back by Fred. "Hey mate," he murmured quietly.

Harry managed to give a real smile this time as he stood up. He moved gingerly towards Hermione and gave her a gentle hug, ignoring the slow burn that came from his chest. He felt her tense to give him a bone-crusher but then she obviously remembered his wound and eased up. He let go and moved to Ginny, repeating the process. Then he clapped Ron, Fred and George on the shoulders "How are all you guys doin'?" he asked.

Hermione promptly burst into tears. "How are we doing?" she sputtered. "We're not the ones who duelled with You-Know-Who. We're not the ones in hospital. We're not the ones-"

She was cut off as Harry gently placed two fingers over her lips. When she fell silent, he slipped an arm around her shoulder. "I'm fine Hermione," he murmured. "Just a small burn; nothing to worry about. Besides, I'll bet Voldemort's out for a few days more at least."

The Weasley's plus Hermione shuddered as they heard the name. Harry just gave a sigh. "Anyway," he continued, "Enough of this moping around shit. What are you guys planning for the summer?"

Hermione gasped. "Harry Potter!" she cried. "Don't swear like that!"

Harry just stuck his tongue out at her. All the red-heads in the room burst out laughing as Hermione huffed indignantly. "You're only getting off easy because you're injured."

Harry just shrugged and turned to the red-headed mob. "So, what's the plan?"

"Er… I don't think there is one. We're just going to hang around the house and help out the Order however we can. Still haven't been allowed to join though," Ron muttered bitterly, throwing a glare at Gred and Forge.

As if Ron had given them a cue, they stepped forward with identical grins on their faces. "Harry, old chap-" one of them began.

"-So good to see you, old friend!"

"How's the chest-"

"Or the head-"

"Or the arse feeling?"

Harry just stared, trying to remember which one had started the whole thing and whether or not the same one had finished it. And what the hell did his head and arse have to do with anything? "I'm confused," was all he could come up with.

Gred and Forge erupted with laughter. "Ah, esteemed backer of ours-"

"You make us laugh like no other."

Harry just blinked and then sighed. "Whatever, I'm too tired for this crap right now." He dropped his arm from around Hermione and climbed back onto the bed, trying to keep his hospital gown from riding up. Ginny let out a giggle at seeing his attempts to keep it down. "Don't worry, Harry," she purred, "we don't mind a free show."

Harry blushed as he managed to get comfortable and cleared his throat.

Ginny continued. "Anyway, we don't have anything special planned for the summer. Fred and George are working at their shop. Actually, Ron and I are helping out, isn't that awesome?! Oh, and Bill's back from Egypt and he's staying at home for a few weeks to visit Mum and Dad. That's about it. What about you?"

Harry relaxed back into the pillows as he relayed what Dumbledore had said earlier about the summer training and such.

"Wow!" Hermion gushed. "I'll bet he's going to teach you really advanced defensive magic and things like that."

Harry grunted. "Don't think so. He said it was all non-combat stuff until this heals up." Then he bared his chest once again.

Fred and George studied it like it was a famous Pecasso, Hermione looked away, Ginny stared in fascination and Ron turned green and looked a little woozy. "That is," he said, "without a doubt the most horrible thing I've ever seen. And I once saw Percy making out with his girlfriend." He gave a shudder.

"Anyway, Harry, we've got to leave," Hermione grumbled. "Madame Pomfrey only allowed us in to say hi and to see how you're doing." She sounded pretty pissed off that she didn't get to spend more time with her friend.

"It's okay, Hermione. I'll be fine. Though, I don't think I'll see any of you until we go back to Hogwarts."

"What?!" Ron blurted. "Why not?"

"Just a feeling I've got," Harry murmured and Ron looked thoroughly disgruntled.

"Everybody out!" shrieked a sudden voice. Everyone whirled around to look at Madam Pomfrey. "You've seen him! You've said hello! Now get out! He needs rest!"

Harry watched on with amusement as everyone muttered a quick goodbye and beat a hasty retreat out the door. Then Madam Pomfrey turned narrowed eyes upon Harry. "You! Go to sleep! And drink this!" Without asking, she stuffed a potion down his throat, and Harry felt himself becoming drowsy. A few seconds later, the darkness took him.