Harry stepped out of the door and down the hall.
The house felt cold, almost dead. Dead in some type of cosmic circumstance Harry could not explain. But it was a feeling he had been all too familiar with. It was the feeling of emptiness, the feeling of guilt, the feeling of loss.
His thoughts were broken by loud voices coming from another room.
"What do you think the prophecy was? "Harry heard a female voice ask. It was Ginny.
"How should I know?" Ron shouted testy.  Testy... not such a good word here. Maybe 'crossly' or 'impatiently'?
"I'm going to ask him," she mumbled.
"No you won't!"
"You can't tell me what to do!"
"I'm your brother! And I'm his best friend!"
"If we ask him, we can help him," Hermione cut in. "I mean, he's been through a lot.
"He's my friend!" he shouted.
"Well he's my friend, too!" Hermione's voice turned deep and Harry heard(?) moaning; she was obviously holding back tears.
"WELL YOU DON'T HAVE TO CRY!"
"Why are you always so insensitive, Ron?"
"I'M NOT BEING INSENSITIVE!"
"Yes you are!" Ginny and Hermione said in unison.
"AM NOT!"
"Are too!" Ginny repeated.
"AM NOT!"
"ARE TOO!"
"Would you guys be quiet?" Hermione interrupted. "Friends help friends...we can't help Harry unless we know what's wrong...do you see the logic in this?"
"I-I-" Ron stuttered. He obviously knew Hermione was right, but had no interest in admitting it. "Well-YOU DON'T HAVE TOYELL!"
"Ron..." Hermione sighed. "I'm not the one yelling."
"ARE TOO!"
"Oh, not this again!"
What were they fighting for? It wasn't their problem! Harry was sixteen. He could take care of himself. With a grunt, Harry opened the bedroom door.
"HARRY!"
Within seconds, Hermione had her arms around Harry. She gave a long sigh of relief, as tears fell down her face.
CRACK, CRACK
"Oh how difficult is it T0 WALK TWO FEET?" Ron shouted. Fred and George had just Apparated into the room, carrying Harry's trunk and owl.
"Well," Fred smirked, "for your information, it was three feet! Aw, is idle Ronny is trying to impress her-I mean, his girlfriend?" Idle lazy... ickle?
"Who, Hermione?" he said. "That's just disgusting!"
"Aw Ron is afraid of girls?" George smiled.
"What the hell do you want, anyway?"
"Whoa." Fred snorted. "Deep breathes little bro, we're not here to talk to you! But Ginny, I did notice that a few things were taken from our room!"
"We just wanted to hear what Lupin had to say to Harry," Ginny said. She passed the ears to the twins, and gave a wide, innocent grin.
"So what NEWT classes are you going to take now?" Ron asked quickly. He wanted to change the subject, and for that, Harry was quite grateful.
"Defense Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Charms, Herbology, Care of Magical Creatures, and-"Harry paused, "-and potions."
"Everything you have but Potions...I love being stupid!" Ron laughed. "Obviously Hermione got an O in everything!"
Someone downstairs called up to them, informing them that it was time for dinner.
The five exited the room and walked down several flights of stairs. The table was already set and, to Harry's surprise, the only two people sitting at the table were Mrs. Weasley and Lupin.
"Oh, Harry!" Mrs. Weasley smiled gently, throwing her arms around him.
"Where's Dad?" Fred asked as everyone sat down.
Mrs. Weasley muttered something under her breath.
"What?"
"He didn't return from the battle... against Reckter. Neither did Moody, Bill or Kingsley." Mrs. Weasley gave a sound that was something like a whimper or a squawk.
Footsteps silenced Mrs. Weasley's whimpering and Mr. Weasley walked, with a limp, into the kitchen. He had a large black and blue bruise on his cheek and his torso was wrapped in cloth (?). Molly stood up to greet him and he fell in her arms. With a long sigh, she helped him to sit down.
"Oh, dear" she said. "Oh, dear! We need to get you to St. Margo's-"
"No- No I am just fine..." he interrupted, breathlessly. "Can't go to Margo's anyway-We'd have to explain what happened. Molly, if the Ministry gets a hint, even a hunch, of our existence, Patterson will put every last one of us on trial for treason!"
"What power does Patterson have to do that?" Harry frowned.
"He's Special Assistant to Susan Bones for the Department of Law Enforcement. I am sure he could figure something out!"
"Apparently, a few Muggles saw the flying black Mercedes leaving Harry's house," Mr. Weasley explained. "We're going to have to think up an alibi and quickly... Bones wants an inquiry with you tomorrow...it will just be in front of her, no one else."
"Alibi?" Fred exclaimed. "Alibi? Dad, what are we going to do? Simply say the muggles had mistaken a drunken, frozen monkey for a car?"
"Frankly, that's the best idea we've had so far."
Fred rolled his eyes.
"Yeah," Lupin mumbled. He seemed very intent on keeping his eyes set upon his shoes. "If you'll excuse me, Molly, I'm not very hungry."
"But you've barely touched your meal!" said Mrs. Weasley, shooting Lupin a concerned look.
"Not hungry," he mumbled slowly. He made his way out of the kitchen, and he was gone.
Harry took a deep breath. He thought Lupin would care about Sirius or at least help Harry. Instead, he continued to walk away. Was he just trying to avoid Harry? But this was Sirius' best friend, this was the last remaining Marauder on the planet, this was Harry's teacher, he was Harry's last connection to James and Lily Potter.
Actually, that reference to the Marauders' isn't true... Peter Pettigrew is still alive, right? Even if he's working for Voldemort... At least, I think he's still alive.
"I'm not hungry, either," Harry mumbled and, as if his feet had taken a mind of their own, they led him up the stairs, and into a bedroom.
He had never seen the room, but he felt as if he had spent half a lifetime in it. His eyes set upon a large black book that sat on a nightstand. He seized it and opened it. It was a photo album.
The first photo was taken at James and Lily's wedding. Harry had never noticed the gleam in Sirius' eye, the gleam he lost long before the shadow of death stole his soul.
The next photo was of the Order of the Phoenix. The next, James and Lily were dancing. The fourth was of a young Sirius, smiling over the crib of a sleeping infant – Harry.No, no... Sirius was dead. Dead, and there was nothing Harry could do. Harry wasn't going to think about it. He wasn't going to talk about it! He didn't kill Sirius!
THUMP! Harry threw the book at the wall rigidly.  rigidly strictly. Maybe 'heatedly' or 'irritably'?
"I DIDN'T KILL HIM!" he roared.
The door swung open and revealed Ron, his ears as red as his hair as he stared stupidly at Harry.
Harry glared. He knew he would let out a scream to the first person he saw, and instead of it being someone who truly deserved it, it was Ron.
"I wouldn't go downstairs," Ron said earnestly. . "Mum's crying. Apparently, Tonks is in St. Mungo's; she broke half the bones in her body. Thankfully she is clumsy and we can just say she fell off her broom, which is half the truth. Are-are you all right?"
"Oh, I don't know, Ron," Harry said coldly. "I've lost my parents and my godfather, I was kidnapped by lunatics, and now I am facing some stupid inquiry so Patterson and that Reckter guy can kill me...are you noticing a pattern here, Ron?"
"Hey mate, calm down!" Ron said, trying very hard to keep calm himself. "It's not like everything bad has happened to you-"
"OH SHUT UP, RON!" Harry roared (repeated word), his mouth seemed to be doing more of the talking than Harry's mind. "YOU'VE BEEN SITTING HERE ALL SUMMER! YOU STILL HAVE A FAMILY! YOU STILL HAVE A LIFE-"
"I am not sure if this surprises you, Harry," sneered Ron, "but you're not the only person who cared for Sirius! And I have done stuff!, I RISKED MY REPUTATION FOR YOU!"
"Reputation??" Harry exclaimed. He was on the verge of calming down but what did Ron mean by reputation? "Reputation?" Harry repeated. "Oh I guess your reputation is more important than our friendship, huh?
"I didn't mean it like that, and you know it!"
"Yeah well... you said it! I didn't make you walk into the Department of Mysteries, I didn't make you-"
"You don't need to fight You-Know-Who!" Ron mumbled (doesn't make sense... exclamation mark, yet he mumbled?). "I just don't want you to die, all right? You didn't have to get the Philosopher's Stone, you didn't have to kill Voldemort, you didn't have to- "
"What? You think I wanted to? YOU THINK I ENJOY THIS? YOU THINK I WAKE UP EVERY MORNING, AND PRAY THAT I GET TO SAVE THE WORLD ALL OVER AGAIN?"
"WHY IS IT YOUR RESPONSIBILITY TO KILL VOLDEMORT? DUMBLEDORE CAN DO IT! WHY YOU?"
"BECAUSE, RON..." Harry paused, and took a huge breath. "Because I am the only who can! And its not ego, it's the truth...the prophesy was never destroyed...I am the murdered, or the murderer!"
Ron opened his mouth three or four times, but nothing came out. His voice had been scared away.
Harry sighed, and paced quickly past Ron. And his feet paced forward, like they had taken it upon themselves to make sure Harry would not collapse in anger.
Then again, collapsing wouldn't be such a horrible thing, Harry thought...but no...he was better than this, he was stronger than this.
Harry's eyes set upon an Owl that had swept through the window with the "Daily Prophet". The owl dropped the paper on the table and flew out the window swiftly.
Slowly, Harry approached the table and stared down at the paper. It was a picture of Sirius. Harry had no need to read the headline.
But Harry didn't kill Sirius! It was Dumbledore, it was Bellatrix, it was Voldemort, it was Snape, but it was not his fault! But what if he had not trusted Kreacher? What if he had done what Snape had said and cleared his mind? But it was Snape who made Sirius feel like a coward, it was Dumbledore who did nothing, and it was Bellatrix who pushed Sirius into the veil! But a part of Harry knew it was his fault.
Harry pressed his face on top of the photo of his godfather and lifted it up. Black ink stuck to his forehead like ash that a Catholic would receive every Ash Wednesday as Penitence.
"Tough guys always stare at their shoes when they get choked up," said a voice from behind Harry.
Harry turned around. Standing before him was Lupin. Harry stared at him, confused.
"My shoes are getting very annoying," Lupin continued. "I've been staring at them for a very long time."
"Are you okay, sir?" Harry frowned.
"I know I have not exactly been the best person I could be to you....I am-you should be in bed, it's a big day tomorrow."
"Not tired," whispered Harry.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"Not really, sir."
"Well if you want to...you know where to find me..."
"Yes, sir."
Lupin walked away slowly, probably hoping Harry would call after him. But when the call never came, he left.
And Harry spent that hour... staring at his shoes.
N/A Well that's chapter 5! I tried my best to suggest more in this chapter rather than just give it away. I like symbolism...Please review!