71. This is worse
"Thank you Hedwig," Harry directed towards his owl. He pulled the letter he had written to Sirius. It was getting a touch worrying. For the past couple days, Harry had been unable to reach Sirius.
The figure of Headmaster Dumbledore came into view. He carried an unusual air of sedation. "Harry," he paused seemingly at a loss before standing straighter, "I require your presence in my office. It is urgent."
Harry frowned, "Should I get Ron and Hermione?"
The headmaster shook his head, "That will be unnecessary. I am quite sure that they will be told of the news. Let us be on our way."
So Harry followed the headmaster. The pair walked through the halls of the school. An atypically stern Dumbledore shooed wayward students as they marched to his office.
Harry could feel the tension building inside him as they entered said office and sat down.
Dumbledore removed his rather comfy cap and laid it bare on his table. "Harry I am sorry to inform you that Sirius has met an unfortunate end."
Harry's mind abruptly blanked. He saw the headmaster's lips move, but nothing was getting to him. A loop of the phrase 'unfortunate end' grew louder and louder. His heart began beating rapidly and his chest felt too tight.
Memories of the past flooded his mind. Each interaction with Sirius played like a film and he could not accept the words booming in his mind. Harry chocked out, "how?"
"It was on a mission on behalf of the Order. Riddle had his eyes on some of the research within the Ministry of Mysteries. I had Sirius and a number of the Order's members at standby. There was a confrontation with Death Eaters and Sirius was pushed through a structure known as the Veil of Death. Poor Sirius is now lost to us." Dumbledore gazed at Harry as he finished his explanation. There were the obvious signs of sympathy, but there was age old wariness about the man. It was as though Harry was a terrifying thing.
Harry eyes grew brighter as he lost himself in his thoughts. He could hardly recall any kind of missions being carried out by the Order, but that was little comfort to Harry. Unlike his schoolmates, when he was rebuffed enough times about the Order's actions, he lost interest. He chose to dismiss the Order as he had felt dismissed. He knew nothing about the dangers Sirius could've been facing and treated the Order's issues as independent to his own life. Harry had once again given up on people.
"I-I need some air," Harry paid no attention to Dumbledore as he stumbled out of the office. Unsteady feet carried him into the depths of the castle into a rarely used classroom as his mind fell into turmoil. He fell to his knees as he began to sob uncontrollably.
Sirius, the last of his family, was gone. Tom Riddle had taken him away, just like all of his other family. His mother, father, and now godfather were casualties to this war. "Curse you Tom. Curse you Tom!" Harry screamed to the ceiling in between his ugly sobs.
Harry had never felt such anger in his life. His very mind felt in a haze, so Harry turned to what he found the most comfort. Magic thickened around Harry's body and it was nearly visible. Harry roughly pulled his wand from within his robe and clutched it so firmly that it was a wonder it hadn't shattered in his grip. It pulsated from the siphoning of the magic coursing through his body.
Incensed, Harry knocked over an old desk and pointed his wand towards hit. "Incendio," he commanded of his wand. An angry stream of flames poured from his wand. The flames fluttered and nearly scrapped against the wand itself. Heat irritated his face as the desk was consumed by the flames.
It wasn't enough for him. Harry nearly flung his wand as he pointed at the empty wall and roared, "Bombarda Maxima!" A violent explosion decimated the wall as the sheer force pushed him to the ground.
He erratically stumbled up and actually growled. The greens of his eyes shined as brightly as any light and his vicious grip on his wand continued. He wanted it all gone. His hand trembled in power and rage.
Before the next spell was spoken, an aged, soft but firm hand held his wrist. Harry's head whipped to the hand's owner.
It was an incredibly saddened Dumbledore. "I believe that is enough, Mr. Potter." He turned to the obliterated room with no little sadness, "What are you to gain from this?"
Harry struggled before pulling his wrist from Dumbledore, "Leave me alone. I-I"ll figure something out. I always do."
Dumbledore surveyed Harry before responding, "Forgive my bluntness, but I disagree. You do not always figure something else. Your first instinct is to isolate yourself in disgust at the faults of others and drown yourself in magic. Believe you me; Mr. Potter that way leads to madness and poor decisions. You are now applying increasingly dangerous spells in an enclosed environment without anyone's knowledge."
Dumbledore walked closer to Harry and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, "You perhaps feel, rather justly, that the world is against you. Rather it be my poor choice to leave you with your relatives, or the multiple experiences with Riddle, and now tragedy of Sirius' demise, you have dealt with burdens. But you cannot make an enemy of the world. I have witnessed what that mindset can wrought. There is temporary relief with this, but once you are of clear mind you will regret the decisions you make for the rest of your life. Today it is simply a broken room, but we know not what tomorrow will bring."
"What am I supposed to do?" Harry whispered to himself.
Dumbledore pulled him into a hug, "You rest, you mourn, you heal. You speak to those closest to you and hopefully you learn to bare this new weight. I have faith that you can."
Harry could only continue to weep.
Dumbledore could only continue to comfort.
