Disclaimer: I didn't make HP and I don't take credit for it.
Chapter One: Feeling the Guilt
Harry Potter sat up with a jolt. A cold sweat covered him and he could feel his clothes sticking to his chest, but that wasn't what he was thinking about. His scar was searing. It made his eyes water and he bit his tongue in an effort to dismiss the pain.
The little clock in his room cast its red light through the numbers that were now in the shape of the numbers: 415. 4:15 in the morning. He hadn't gotten much sleep at all; yet he knew, tired as he was, that he could not go back to bed. He could not and would not allow himself to have such dreams again. To relive that terrible moment again.
The Dursely's would awake soon. The sound of Aunt Petunia's slippered feet shuffling down the carpet to the bathroom, the grunts of Uncle Vernon as he slammed his fist on the screeching alarm clock, and the complaining and whimpering of Dudley as Aunt Petunia set to wake him, would soon be heard. The house would awake, and Harry would have to face yet another day with the loss of Sirius.
Most days he found himself gazing out the window, dreaming of places far away from everyone and everything. He pictured himself sitting happily alone on an island with the sun smiling down upon his face. All the cares of the world, the loss of Sirius, all gone. He struggled every moment with guilt. He fought every thought that it was all his fault. That if he had only listened to Hermione or went back to the castle to find Snape…Sirius would still be alive….He sighed aloud and peered out his bedroom window. The sun was just awakening. Its bright eyes were just beginning to open their heavy lids and show its wonderful pink and purple irises.
Harry couldn't remember the last time he was happy. The last time he had set foot outside of his room, besides for the need of food and bathroom. The Dursley's had taken the threat made by Mad-Eye and the rest some-what seriously and acted as though he wasn't there. Harry was more than grateful for this. He didn't think he could handle their harsh words right now.
Abruptly he walked over to his closet and pulled out some clothes. He would go out today. To where, he didn't know. He would let his feet do the walking. But one thing was for sure: he could not stay in this house. He could not remain cramped in this room. It was killing him, dragging him down.
Harry Potter threw on his clothes and shuffled out of his room. It would be just another long, pained day, or so he thought.
Author's note: Sorry it took so long everyone. A lot of things have been going on lately. The Prom. Soccer. Publications. School. Friends. And being sick for a while. It was hard to update. I will try to write more often now. And I'm very bad at grammar, so bear with me please.