Working on A Better Title...


Harry Potter lay in bed staring blankly at the ceiling. His bed covers were strewn at his feet due to the abnormal heat wave that had hit his part of Britain. The supposedly central air conditioner seemed to not work very well on the second floor of Number Four Privit Drive. Through the wall Harry could hear the window unit whirring on full blast in Dudley's bedroom. Harry longed for the Arctic cool that flooded the rest of the house to engulf his sticky, sweaty body and relieve him from the never-ending heat.
A warm breeze blew through Harry's open window. The wind caused his hair to prickle and stand on end. Harry sighed, pushing the thought of air conditioner from his mind. He had been trying desperately for the past 2 and a half hours to clear his mind. The electronic clock next to him now flashed 3:14 in big, bright red numerals. Of course, Harry had discovered, clearing your mind was incredibly hard. Once he stopped thinking one thought another popped in until finally all he could think was don't think of anything. Stop thinking. Stop thinking. Stop thinking. Harry groaned in frustration and sat up. He couldn't sleep and he certainly couldn't clear his mind.
Harry ran his fingers through his hair, shoving away the pieces that had fallen into his eyes. He was determined to master Occlumency. Harry had been attempting to clear his mind every night for the past month but every time he fell asleep the haunting image of a black, swirling hole appeared in his mind. Harry didn't really want to be thinking of anything anyway. Everything reminded him of Sirius––even Dudley's awful snore (Harry was certain that Sirius had been the type who snored and now he would never snore again). Sirius was gone and never coming back. Harry knew it was all his fault. If only he hadn't been so stupid and hadn't wanted to play the hero. If only he had tried harder to clear his mind. If only he hadn't been so selfish. Harry blinked. Tears began to form in his eyes but he brushed them away. He was not about to cry now. He had to clear his mind.
Harry lay back down. He closed his eyes and for a split second achieved nothingness. But soon came the thought Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out. It really was hopeless. Hearing a soft hoot Harry opened his eyes. Hedwig was hovering above him awkwardly trying to keep afloat with a huge package tied to both her legs. Harry quickly untied the package, which was surprisingly lightweight. Hedwig hooted her thanks and flew to her open cage. Exhausted she tucked her head beneath her wing and prepared herself for sleep.
Harry stared at the brown-paper package in his hands. Scrawled on top in shimmering silver letters was Happy Birthday Harry! Harry almost laughed at himself. He completely forgot today was his birthday. He was 16-years-old, alone and miserable, but at least he had not been forgotten. Harry tore at the packaging revealing a neon green shoebox. Harry opened the lid. Inside was a large bag of Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans (Must be from Ron, thought Harry) and what looked like a very delicious chocolate birthday cake. Harry picked up the piece of parchment that had been neatly folded and tucked beside the bag of jellybeans.

Dear Harry
Happy Birthday! I hope all is well and that you are enjoying your summer. I know that it has been hard for you Harry. This summer has been hard on all of us. Molly and the rest (including Percy!) are doing fine. We have all been very busy around here. Enjoy the cake. Molly made it so it should taste very good. We weren't allowed near it. I think Molly was afraid Fred and George would curse it somehow to as they put it cheer you up some. Eat with caution, they may have gotten through the protection spell she put on it. Best of luck with the coming school year Harry and Happy Birthday again.
Love from,
Arthur, Molly, Ron, Ginny, Fred, George, Bill, Charlie and Percy Weasley

Ron had written him earlier that summer to tell him Percy and his parents had reconciled their differences as Ron put it. Harry assumed it was Percy's term. Harry dipped his finger in the rich chocolate icing and took a small lick. He scrunched his eyes tight for a second but nothing happened. The cake was perfectly fine and was in fact very very good. He removed the cake and jellybeans from the box, deciding he'd eat the cake tomorrow after he'd had lunch. He set his gifts in the corner of his room and was about to go back to bed when he noticed a silver handle sticking out from the bottom of the box and a note that said Lift.
Harry pulled out the bottom and discovered three books. The box must have been magically expanded, reminding Harry of Moody's magic trunk from his fourth year. Harry shuddered remembering the image of Moody's real body in the last compartment having been hidden there by an imposter. Harry opened the piece of parchment and read the neat handwriting.

Dear Harry,
Happy Birthday. I can hardly believe that we are all 16. I hope you enjoy you present. They are fast read, a little below our level actually. They are funny Muggle books about magic. I rather enjoyed them when I was younger, before I found out about Hogwarts. They way Muggle authors depict magic is quite ludicrous really. You may have read them before but I figured your aunt and uncle wouldn't allow books about magic in their home. Wouldn't want to taint little Dudleykins or give you any ideas, right?
Ron, Ginny and I have been kept very busy. More cleaning. I have also included copies of my essays for school in case you needed a little help but please try not to copy them verbatim. Ron already tried. The git thought I'd actually allow it. And Harry I hope you are all right. We've all been very worried about you. I've been reading up some on grief management and

Harry threw the letter aside. He knew what it was about to say. Hermione had no idea what he was going through. You can't read a book about grief and know how it feels. Harry distracted himself with the books: old copies of A Wrinkle in Time by Madeline L'Engle and Half Magic by Edward Eager, and a newer looking book called So You Want to Be a Wizard by a woman named Diane Duane. It was just like Hermione to send him books. Beneath the books was another handle. Harry went through the entire box, which in all included 7 levels. He had received another book from Tonks–– Flying for Fun: The Simple Joys of Quiditch by Agatha Humptrunk; a whizzing, whirling Sneakoscope from Moody, a box of chocolate and a book of defense spells (incase you need to start up Dumbledore's Army) from Lupin, and a very lopsided cake from Hagrid (although Harry decided to eat Mrs. Weasley's instead). The last level contained a normal looking Muggle videotape and a note that read:

Dear Harry,
Happy Birthday. I meant to give you this tape years ago, but I felt that your 16th birthday was appropriate. It seems I have a nasty habit of waiting to long to share things with you Harry. This is a videotape of your first birthday. Your mother had quite an obsession with the Muggle video camera. I'm afraid this is the only tape I could spare from your house in Godric's Hollow. I have watched it many times and I feel it is a more accurate description of your parents. You must realize that 15-year-old boys can be rather pig-headed and their actions do not always depict what people they are to become, and your father, though you may sometimes have you doubts, was truly a great man. I know these past months have been unbearable Harry but please try to understand that this is the way things have to be. Try to be strong Harry. We are all going to need out strength for the battle that steadily approaches. Try to enjoy things while you can.
God be with you,
Albus Dumbledore

A videotape of his parents? Harry could hardly believe it. The Dursleys were taking a trip to London tomorrow to take Dudley shopping. He would watch the tape then. He didn't care if he wasn't allowed to touch the TV while they were out. What they didn't know wouldn't hurt them. He smiled and pushed his remaining presents towards corner where the Weasley's cake and the bag of jellybeans sat. The tape he kept close by, tucked safely underneath his mattress. The Dursleys were not taking this from him. For the first time all summer Harry felt happy.
Harry climbed back into bed. He tried once again to clear his mind but soon gave up. He couldn't stop thinking of his parents. Tomorrow he would see his parents' smiling faces, hear their happy voices. At 4:19 a.m. his breathing slowed and it wasn't long before he fell asleep...

There was a black, swirling pit at his feet. Every inch of his body ached with longing and then he was falling and falling and felt nothing at all.


A/N: Sorry for the title, which is absolutely awful. I'm working on it. Hope you enjoyed the first chapter. It was surprisingly easy to write. It's really surprising what you can come up with when you are trying to sleep. And by the way, I have decided it is absolutely impossible to purposefully think of nothing. I've tried...Anyway review review review review....