"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies..."
They were at the ministry, in the death chamber of the Department of Mysteries. A jet of red light and a laugh, Sirius' laugh.
"Come on, you can do better than that!" He had yelled.
Harry saw the next jet of light hit him squarely on the chest. Laughter was still on his face, his eyes widened. Harry had let go of Neville and had jumped down the steps towards his Godfather, pulling out his wand. He watched as Sirius fell, looking over at him with fear and surprise. He fell through the Veil of Death quietly and disappeared.
She had screamed happily, but Harry wasn't sure why. Sirius would just fall on his ass on the other side, right? He hadn't...
"Sirius!" He heard his own screams, but they sounded so far away and he couldn't breath as he ran towards the veil intending to pull Sirius back out.
He felt someone grab him around his chest, stopping him.
"There's nothing you can do Harry-" Remus had said.
"Get him, save him, he has only just gone through!" Harry had yelled.
"It's too late Harry."
"We can still reach him," Harry felt Remus' arms around him, refusing to let him go help Sirius.
"There's nothing you can do Harry," Remus tried not to break down himself, "nothing, he's gone."
"He hasn't gone!" Harry screamed.
Harry hadn't believed it, couldn't believe it and he remembered fighting against Remus because he hadn't known what the veil actually did just that he had heard people behind it earlier in the fight.
He screamed Sirius' name over and over, calling him to return to him.
"He can't come back Harry, he can't come back because he's d-"
"HE-IS-NOT-DEAD!" Harry continued screaming his name.
Harry heard the spells around him, but didn't care about anything. Anything, but getting Sirius back, but it occurred to him that Sirius would have already returned with the way he was yelling. Sirius wouldn't leave him screaming like this. Sirius had always been there when he needed him, no matter the stakes.
'No! He can't be gone,' Harry thought, ' he can't have left me alone...'
He remembered all of it; the flash of red light, Sirius' voice and laughter, his face as his laughter slowly died, his body falling through the Veil, Bellatrix' scream of delight, how he couldn't breath, Remus grabbing him and pulling him back, his own screaming and crying, the meaningless curses around him, and the pain. The pain of realizing that he had lost the closest thing to a parent he had ever had, the pain of realizing that he had lost the only family he had left.
Harry had chased after Bellatrix, Sirius' cousin and the one that had murdered him. Harry had tried to use the Cruciatus curse, but he hadn't been able to do it completely because his anger was righteous. He had to actually want to hurt her, he had to enjoy it, but he couldn't because he wasn't like her. He wasn't a monster like her and Voldemort.
Voldemort had come to the ministry and had possessed Harry, but despite Sirius' death Harry had fought back and had won because he knew that Voldemort was wrong about love. Love didn't make him weak or vulnerable, it made him strong because he had his friends who had followed him and had saved him.
While Voldemort fed him memories of pain Harry remembered memories of joy. Blurry memories of his parents voices, and Sirius' laughter, the day he had met Ron and Hermione, when he had seen Sirius in the stands, the celebrations at the end of first and second year, seeing Hermione after she had been petrified in second year. The day he and Ron had saved her from the troll which made them friends for life. The Quidditch World Cup before it went all crazy; he had laughed and played with the others, he had thought Hermione had looked so pretty that day and he found himself holding her hand during the game, the way he had held her hand during the full moon the night he had met Sirius. They had held hands as they ran around the forest terrified out of their minds, but feeling safe together, he had stood in between her and a werewolf that night because he cared about her so much.
He remembered memories of this year too; kissing Cho, Dumbledore's Army and when his classmates started believing in him again and he had begun to believe that maybe everything would be okay, until Dumbledore was almost arrested. Voldemort tried reminding him about all the terrible things that had happened this year; getting attacked by a dementor, being almost expelled for protecting himself, being called a liar, being abused by Umbridge, being ignored by Dumbledore, Cho getting mad about his relationship with Hermione and then betraying him... Hermione... spending the rest of that Valentine's Day with Hermione was wonderful despite what they had done. Being with Hermione was always wonderful, he remembered when she had hugged him before the first and third task, and after the second, he remembered how beautiful she had looked during the Yule Ball...
Despite all of the memories that Voldemort was forcing Harry to remember, even the one's of just a few moments ago, Harry was stronger than him. Stronger because he knew what friendship and love was and the people that loved him were there for him.
The pain that Voldemort put him through that night was excruciating. He had even wanted Dumbledore to follow Voldemort's instructions and kill him, but he had broken free of the pain and the connection between himself and Voldemort because he had a power Voldemort couldn't understand; love.
Harry Potter woke up with a start; he screamed aloud, but stopped himself quickly to avoid his Aunt and Uncle and cousin from hearing him. He covered his mouth with his hands and bit down hard, trying to stop the tears that were threatening to fall. His bed was covered in his own sweat from his thrashing around. He had had another nightmare, but unlike his nightmares from last year these were all from his own mind. These were memories, he had had the same nightmare every night for the last three weeks since that dreadful night.
After fighting off the tears Harry stood up and quietly tiptoed to the bathroom. He splashed water on his face, looking at his face in the mirror. He ran his fingers through his messy black hair before reaching down to take off his soaked shirt. Putting it in the hamper of clothing that he had to wash tomorrow he went back to his room and pulled on some sweatpants and a clean t-shirt. Then he quietly went downstairs, got a bottle of water from the fridge and left the house.
Harry ran for quite a while, not even noticing the auror that was following him and struggling to keep up with the teenagers sprint. After Harry couldn't run anymore he stopped, poured some water on his head, bent down with his hands on his knees and breathed deeply trying to regain his breath. He felt like he hadn't gotten a chance to really breath since Sirius' death.
'As if you deserve to,' a nasty voice in his head said.
Harry shook his head, the voice wasn't that of Voldemort's, but a voice from his traumatized mind. He pushed it away, the way he always had and turned around jogging slowly home.
"Where were you?" Asked his Aunt Petunia as soon as he walked in the door.
"I went out for a run," was his short reply.
"I don't believe you, you haven't been home every morning since you got back from that freak school," his Aunt shrilled, "you're hiding something from me and I demand to know what it is! No freaky things will be going on under my roof!"
Harry rolled his eyes and turned around, he had put his bottle of water back in the fridge and had been heading back down the hallway to his room.
"Why don't you tell me what it is so I can go back to sleep? I didn't get any sleep last night."
"What about Vernon and Dudley's breakfast?!"
"You have two hands, make it yourself."
"Why you lazy, ungrateful little brat-!"
"What's going on? What are you doing now Potter?" Harry's Uncle had just thumped his way downstairs.
"Nothing, I just told my dear Aunt that I believe she can make her husband and son breakfast herself," Harry replied with a fake polite tone and smile, "after all, she had been doing it all year while I was at school."
Vernon's face went red with anger and he advanced on Harry, grabbing the collar of his shirt, but Harry only glared at his oversized Uncle, "do you think what you're about to do would be wise?"
"Are you threatening me?!" His Uncle roared in his face.
"No, I'm just stating that Moody may consider it maltreatment, and you remember what he said, don't you?"
Moody, Arthur, Tonks and Remus had had a few words with Harry's Aunt and Uncle at the end of the year about how he was treated at their place. They had told them that if they found out Harry was mistreated in anyway that they would have them, especially Moody to answer to.
"Do you really want to have to answer to Moody?" Harry asked innocently.
Vernon let go of his shirt and Harry smiled, "I didn't think so."
Harry pushed past his Uncle and ran upstairs to his room, slamming the door angrily behind him before collapsing on his bed. If he had to spend the rest of the Summer here he felt like he was at a high risk of hurting himself, like he hadn't already thought about it...
He laid on his bed and fell asleep for a few hours. When he woke up he found that he was still exhausted and felt more alone and depressed than ever. He had no idea how many people cared about him and wanted to help him, but he'd soon find out.
That evening there had been an Order meeting at Grimmauld Place; Albus Dumbledore sat at the head of the table and he was the one that had spoken first.
"We're here to listen to the progress of getting more members for the Order, and of course, any news about Voldemort's actions since last month-" almost everyone at the table flinched, "but first and more importantly, I'd like to know how Harry's doing."
Albus turned to three members of the Order, two of which were aurors; Tonks and Moody. The third was Mundungus Fletcher, a shady man who was only a part of the Order because he was loyal to Dumbledore.
"You three have been on guard duty this week, what has the boy been doing around Little Whinging?"
"Actually, Harry hasn't been leaving his home at all," Tonks said with an anxious tone, "he only leaves to go on long runs in the mornings, and then he goes back into the house for the rest of the day. I don't even think he leaves his room, apart from leaving for his morning run."
Albus nodded, and sounded very concerned when he asked, "have none of you spoken to him?"
"No, he doesn't even look at us when he leaves the house for his runs," Tonks answered, "it's like he doesn't even noticed we're there, like he's so immersed in his own thoughts to notice anything around him-"
She trailed off as she saw everyone get more anxious and concerned for the young man.
"I understand, I'm afraid that Harry may be bottling up his feelings and may be trying to become reclusive as to not have to deal with those feelings. He has been through a lot as you all know, not only last month, but over the last several years. I'm afraid that I never truly got Harry the help he obviously needed to cope with all the trauma he has been through."
Albus took a breath before continuing, "it was my fault that Harry fell into such a depression during the events of last year. He blamed himself for Cedric Diggory's death and for the return of Voldemort."
Molly cut in, "he can't possibly believe it's his fault! He didn't do a damn thing wrong!"
Everybody looked at the mother of seven with surprise, "he can't blame himself! He mustn't!"
Albus nodded, "I know he didn't do anything wrong Molly, but Harry blames himself immensely, especially since last month."
"He blames himself for what happened to Sirius?" Molly asked.
"Yes, he blames himself a great deal for what happened at the ministry, especially Sirius' death. You all need to understand something-" Albus paused, trying to find the words as everyone sat up straight and leaned in to catch every word.
"Harry's greatest strength is that he feels pain, I know that may sound strange, but listen. He has a habit of shutting down and shutting people out because he feels everything so deeply. He feels pain, love, compassion and happiness… he has the courage to feel everything, but last year that courage got put out. It was my fault, I'm ashamed to admit. I ignored him, isolated him more than he was already being isolated because I was trying to protect him, but I only hurt him more. Throughout his years he has shown bravery beyond any of us here today, even Moody and myself. He has fought battles that even grown men would have folded in the face of, but he has never faltered. Never once has he been seduced by the dark side, his heart is still as pure as it was when he was eleven years old and walked through the Hogwarts doors the first time. Last year, Voldemort tormented Harry through a connection in their minds, violating him all year, playing on his emotions and trauma and tried to turn Harry into someone he isn't, him. At the ministry Voldemort got so desperate that he tried to possess Harry-"
Everyone at the table was shocked, even Moody because none of them knew what happened after Harry ran after Bellatrix and Voldemort showed up.
Albus continued, "only he couldn't because Harry is so filled with love that an unloving heart like Voldemort's can't hope to destroy a heart like Harry's."
Arthur was shaken, "he tried to possess Harry?"
Molly felt like crying for the boy that she loved like a son.
"Yes, but as I said he was unsuccessful because Harry's stronger than him," Albus smiled, "mind, heart and soul. Now Harry's suffering, trying to cope with everything he has been through, but he believes he has to do it alone. We must shown him that he's not alone, that losing Sirius and everything else that has happened to him isn't his fault and that we're here for him."
Every Order member, even the one's who didn't know the boy personally nodded eagerly.
This was Harry Potter; The Boy Who Lived, The Chosen One, the boy who risked his life to stop The Dark Lord from returning when he was only eleven years old, the boy who ran into The Chamber of Secrets to save his best friend's sister, the boy who saved is Godfather from thousands of dementors and fought The Dark Lord in the flesh again at only fourteen years old. He had tried to save Sirius and had come of the Battle at the Department of Mysteries, at least physically unscathed.
The boy was a hero whether he knew it or not, and every Order member was willing to put down their lives for him. Each Order member wanted to help this incredible young man come back to himself.
Harry couldn't be more wrong about being alone. He wasn't; He was loved.
