CHAPTER TWO - TURMOIL AND TEST RESULTS

Before Harry could completely reorient himself from the spinning flames he was besieged by two very familiar voices. "HARRY!" Ron and Hermione yelled as they ran at him looking extremely pleased to see him. Hermione hugged Harry warmly then held him at arms-length looking at him critically as Ron smiled and said, "It's great to see you, mate...."

"Harry," Hermione interrupted, "are you quite all right? You look kind of peaky," she said sounding concerned and somewhat motherly, as Crookshanks rubbed against Harry's ankles.

"I'm better now, actually," Harry said, attempting to lift a convincing grin to his face. Hermione narrowed her eyes at him, but apparently decided to let it drop.

"Hermione relax. He's back with us now," Ron stated soothingly. "Come back here, mate. Mum's been on pins and needles waiting for you to get back," Ron said, leading Harry to the dining room that also served as meeting room for the Order.

As they walked along the hallway, Harry thought something seemed different and then it hit him. Sirius' mother's portrait was gone, as were all the other screeching portraits of the Black family that had once lined the entire entryway. Kreacher the house-elf was nowhere to been seen, either. Harry felt a stab of hot anger at the very thought of him. Kreacher had purposefully lied about Sirius being at headquarters the night that he had died, and Harry was not really sure that he would be able to keep himself from doing something very destructive to the evil little house-elf if he ever saw him again. Harry quickly felt his anger melt away, however. He simply did not have the energy at the moment to fuel the emotion. Instead, Harry focused on the faded bare wall in front of him, touching the place where Mrs. Black's portrait had once been.

"How did you get them all down?" Harry asked. "I thought they had permanent-sticking charms on them."

"Well, Dumbledore and Hagrid managed after a couple of hours of repelling charms," Hermione said.

"That," Ron interjected, "and Hagrid reaching behind the frame and ripping it off the wall at the same time. That evil hag screamed the whole bloody time." Ron finished, grimacing.

As they walked through the kitchen doors to the dining room, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and Ginny ran up to them.

"Oh Harry dear, it's so wonderful to see you again," Mrs. Weasley gushed as she hugged Harry tightly. Mr. Weasley shook his hand and clapped him on the back while Ginny asked forthrightly, "Did the Muggles treat you right this summer, Harry?"

"Oh, it was a bit better, sure," Harry said evasively.

Harry felt suddenly awkward as he looked at all the concerned faces peering at him in the dim light. Harry appreciated everyone's kindness, but he had mostly avoided being around people since arriving on Privet Drive and he found himself longing to be alone again. Lupin had been behind Harry, Ron, and Hermione during this exchange and seemed to sense Harry's trepidation.

"Let's get your things up to your room, Harry," Lupin said firmly, steering Harry away from the others. When Ron and Hermione made to follow, Lupin diplomatically asked, "Could you two set the table and save Harry a seat? We'll be right back down."

"Oh .... of course," Hermione said hesitantly. Ron glanced at Harry but when Harry did not completely meet his eyes, Ron shrugged. "Sure," he said, and took Hermione's arm as he turned towards the silverware and plates.

Lupin led Harry to the same bedroom he and Ron had shared last summer and laid Harry's trunk at the foot of his bed. "I thought you might want a few minutes away from all the hustle and bustle," Lupin said, smiling gently at him.

"Thanks," Harry said, as he put Hedwig's empty cage on the nearby dresser.

"Look, Harry," Lupin began anxiously, "if you need to talk or anything...."

Harry glanced at Lupin. Lupin's robes were patched and frayed worse than ever and his face looked taut and tired, almost haunted. "He looks like he's just lost his best friend," Harry thought, without thinking. The hard lump rose sharply in Harry's throat again as he caught himself.

"Er ... thanks," Harry croaked rather gruffly, as he sat down on the bed and blinking, looked quickly away. Lupin had turned as though leaving, but then he came back crouching down in front of Harry and looking up at him. Harry met Lupin's eyes. He was shocked to see that they were brimming with unshed tears.

"I know better than anyone how you feel right now, Harry. I know how difficult it is to be in this house without him here ...." Lupin's voice broke. Lupin paused then, staring down at the floor. Suddenly he cleared his throat and stood up again heading for the door. As Lupin stopped at the threshold, he looked back at Harry painfully, his eyes slightly red. Lupin then took a deep breath and left, heading back downstairs.

Harry looked quickly around the room. Everything looked much as it did last summer. The blank canvas bearing the portrait of Phineas Nigellus appeared to be genuinely empty; Harry could not hear any snickering. The lump in his throat had now also turned into a burning behind his eyes and nose. Seeing the deep grief evident in Lupin's tired face had set off a chain reaction in his heart. Harry sat shaking, trying to stave off the horrible torrent of emotion that was now threatening to engulf him.

Harry got up attempting to distract himself by unpacking his trunk when his eyes alighted upon two items in quick succession. Somehow during his spinning journey here, Sirius' broken mirror had gotten shuffled next to the photo album of Harry's parents. The album had bounced open once again to reveal the wedding picture of Lily and James. Next to them as always was the young handsome Sirius, laughing joyfully in eternal but empty happiness.

Harry froze in misery, as his breath caught painfully in his throat. He then found himself on his hands and knees clutching the album and the mirror's remnants almost angrily in his shaking hands. His vision was blurred as the mirror slipped from Harry's grip. Why had this happened? Why hadn't he been able to see through Voldemort's deception? Why did Sirius have to die just when he needed him most.

Harry threw the photo album across the room as the tears slid uncontrollably down his cheeks. Harry could not stand to be here without Sirius. He somehow made it to his bed and sat rocking back and forth unable to keep himself from sobbing disconsolately, his anger dissolving into sorrow. Harry had felt so much terror on the night that Sirius had died, but still he had been unable to save him. All the misery, horror, and guilt he had tried to hold back broke through him as if it were an angry tide. Images from his life were flashing unceasingly through his mind; Dudley's stupid gang cruelly chasing him - his parents in the Mirror of Erised, unreachable - fearing he might be the heir of Slytherin - fighting the Basilisk and Riddle - hearing his parents panicked cries as they tried unsuccessfully to protect him right before they were murdered - the icy cold terror as a hundred dementors charged towards him - Cedric's blank eyes as he lay dead upon the ground - the excruciating pain and humiliation of being tortured by Voldemort as the Death Eaters laughed at him in the graveyard - entering the Department of Mysteries to realize that he may have just led his friends to their doom for no reason at all, and then Sirius - Sirius dueling, then Sirius falling - slipping through that veil of black darkness, gone forever.

Time seemed to have stopped to Harry as the overwhelming despair seized him; he was not aware of anyone or anything else around him. Harry did not feel capable of handling this kind of intense emotional pain, it was simply too much. Sirius had been the closest thing Harry had had to a father, to family - but now Harry felt horribly alone. The torrential agony he had mostly tried to deny gave way completely to heartbreak. The sad pale form of a very grief-stricken Harry Potter now lay atop of the covers of his bed, releasing wave after wave of deep unyielding sadness. After a long time, thoroughly distraught and exhausted, Harry gratefully fell into a deep sleep.

A few moments after Harry's mind had finally drifted into a blissful slumber, two bedraggled forms appeared in the doorway. They had been on their way to see why he had not come down to dinner when they had heard Harry's anguished sobs through the door. They had grimly waited outside the room until Harry had fallen silent. Now as Ron and Hermione stood in the doorway, they looked at their sleeping friend in helpless dismay. They slowly turned towards one another. Hermione's eyes were full as she looked up into Ron's sad face. Ron hugged her to him and held her for a moment. Slowly, he gently released her as they separated and headed dejectedly to bed.

The next morning Harry woke to find a still sleeping Ron in the other bed. Hedwig was also now in her cage, Harry thought she must have arrived sometime after he had fallen asleep last night. Harry pushed his glasses onto his puffy face and left to go to the bathroom, hoping to go unnoticed. Once there, Harry got into the shower and let the warm jets of water wash over him. The horrible hollow ache in Harry's chest had subsided a little after last night. His mind now felt a bit clearer. Harry's mind drifted to the memory of Lupin's sorrow-filled face from the night before and Harry realized, really for the first time, that he was not alone in his grief. Now that he thought about it, Lupin's lot in life was certainly comparable to his own, being a werewolf was a never-ending struggle. Sadly, too, Lupin's best friends were now no longer with him. The first had died almost fifteen years before, the second betrayed him and everyone else, and the third had disappeared through the veil only weeks ago.

As Harry dried off to get dressed he tried to imagine what Lupin must be feeling right now. Harry wondered very briefly, "what if I lost Ron and Hermione," but he changed that train of thought quite quickly as this had brought the lump back to his throat and the stinging sensation back to his eyes. Harry's paused painfully, the thought was simply too unbearable. Harry threw cold water on his face as he abruptly dismissed it. "Get a hold of yourself," he told himself sternly, as he left the bathroom.

By the time Harry got to the kitchen everyone was already up. Harry encountered Lupin first. Lupin gave him a slight smile, which Harry was careful to return. A sort of unspoken understanding had sprung up between them. As Harry looked around, he was surprised at who he saw. "Professor Dumbledore," Harry blurted. Harry had not forgotten how Dumbledore had avoided him all year last year, even looking away from Harry if they were in the same room together. Dumbledore was looking at Harry now, however, his calm blue eyes focusing directly on Harry's bright green ones.

"Good morning, Harry," Dumbledore said serenely, as if the last year had not happened at all.

"Er ... morning, sir," Harry said slowly.

Dumbledore gave Harry an appraising look as he continued. "I come with tidings I'm sure you, Ron, and Hermione will want." Dumbledore carefully reached inside his robes and pulled out three small rolls of parchment, each bearing the Hogwart's coat of arms. Harry went to sit down by Ron and Hermione who had saved a seat for him at the table.

Mrs. Weasley passed a flagon of pumpkin juice down the table as Dumbledore handed Harry, Ron, and Hermione each a roll of parchment. "Well, open them then," Mrs. Weasley said smiling, "maybe it's good news." Harry tapped his wand on the sealed parchment to open it as Ron and Hermione did the same. What he saw made his heart beat more quickly.

Dear Mr. Potter,

This notice is to inform you of the results of your Ordinary Wizarding Level tests you took last June. Thank you for your participation.

You have received passing grades in the following subjects:

Astronomy

Care of Magical Creatures

Charms

Defense Against the Dark Arts

Herbology

Potions

Transfiguration

This includes OUTSTANDING O.W.L.s in:

Care of Magical Creatures

Defense Against the Dark Arts

Herbology

Transfiguration

You failed to pass the following classes listed below:

Divination

History of Magic

Congratulations on your completion of your O.W.L.s. See you next term.

Sincerely,

Minerva M. McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Harry looked up to see Ron and Hermione's beaming faces. Hermione had received "Outstanding" in all of her written theory and practical O.W.L.s, just as Harry knew she would. Ron was also quite excited. He had actually managed to get more passing grades than Harry did for his O.W.L.s. - they had both failed Divination - but Harry was unperturbed by that news. "I can't believe I passed Potions," Harry thought to himself. The important thing was that Harry now had attained the right O.W.L.s in the right subjects to try to be an Auror; if he could past his N.E.W.T.s next year, that is. This was far better news than he had expected and he was actually able to produce some genuine smiles for the first time in weeks.

Dumbledore smiled at them all letting his gaze linger on Harry for a few moments longer than anyone else. Later Dumbledore left, telling them all that he would be back that evening to celebrate with them. Dumbledore did come that evening with Professor McGonagall right behind him. Professor McGonagall was unable to linger much past the cake cutting, but she winked discreetly at Harry before leaving. Harry gave her a faint smile. It was she who had promised to help Harry to become an Auror if that's what he really wanted; not to mention that she had also made sure to declare this loudly right in front of Dolores Umbridge during his career consultation a couple of months ago.

As the night wore on, however, Harry found his feelings were running rather bittersweet. When he had initially found out he had passed everything he'd wanted to pass, he had been genuinely pleased, but now he couldn't help but notice the conspicuous absence of his godfather from the proceedings. Everywhere he looked reminded him of Sirius; the table where they had sat together awaiting news when Mr. Weasley was attacked by that snake, the pantry where Sirius had tried to allay Harry's fears of becoming possessed by Voldemort, even the drawing room they had all decontaminated reminded him of Sirius. It was as if every memory of Sirius was a fresh reminder, reopening the same old wound.

How Harry made it through the next couple of weeks he didn't know, the days all seemed to slide together. July 31st, though, Harry's sixteenth birthday, brought an abrupt end to any monotony. A few people from the Order had gathered at headquarters for the occasion. Dumbledore was once again making an appearance at headquarters. Initially, Harry had mixed feelings at having his headmaster's attention on him again. He had felt so angry and hurt when Dumbledore had ignored him last year, and even though he now knew why, he still felt a bit battered over the whole situation.

Ron, Hermione, and Mrs. Weasley were busy lighting the candles on Harry's birthday cake while Lupin, Mr. Weasley, Tonks, Shacklebolt and Ginny set the table and put up decorations. Mrs. Weasley seemed unwilling to let Tonks near the candles. Dumbledore was talking to Harry off to the side when Harry suddenly cried out as his scar gave a terrific throb. It hurt so badly that Harry dropped the bottle of butterbeer he had been holding and it splattered all over the floor. It felt as though someone had taken a freshly sharpened hatchet and threw it into his forehead.

Harry found himself slumping on the carpet hands over his face while everyone rushed over to him, terrified. When Harry slowly removed his shaking hands from his now sweaty face he saw that Dumbledore and Lupin both had a hold of him. Lupin looked worried; Dumbledore extremely grave.

"What is it, Harry?" Lupin asked.

"This can't be good ... he's very, very happy," Harry gasped, cringing.

"Who," asked Lupin, startled, he had never seen Harry like this. But it was Dumbledore who answered.

"Voldemort," he said calmly.

As the pain slowly began to recede from his scar, Harry looked up at his circle of onlookers. What had been smiling faces were now very pale and tense. Dumbledore's face appeared to be set.

"Can you tell us anything more, Harry?" Dumbledore asked, gently, after a moment.

Harry looked into those calm blue eyes and even though his reaction to them only a month before had been one of anger and even violence, for some reason they now had the opposite effect. Taking a deep steadying breath, Harry said quietly, "I think more people have returned to him ... he seems absolutely ecstatic," he continued slowly, "I wouldn't bet on those Death Eaters being in Azkaban anymore."

Once again Harry could not say how he knew this; he just did. It was similar to the flashes he had experienced last year; suddenly and with no warning, Harry knew what Voldemort was thinking and feeling. It was not a pleasant experience. It was because of these horrible flashes that Voldemort had realized that he could use Harry for his own devices. The pain in Harry's scar was still stinging angrily. It had not hurt like this in a month, not since Voldemort had viciously possessed him in the Ministry of Magic. One thing was different, however. The pain was considerably worse than before. The flashes Harry had had last year had been painful, yes, but now ....

Harry had not been able to stop himself from crying out or falling to the floor, dropping what he had been holding. Harry felt weak, clammy, nauseous. He felt a horrible pang that had nothing to do with his forehead as he realized he had just been thinking he should tell Sirius about this, then stopped in his tracks a second later when he remembered that he could not.

"I just want to lie down," Harry muttered.

"We'll take him," both Ron and Hermione volunteered, but then Dumbledore turned to Harry and kneeled next to him on the floor.

"May I have a quick word, Harry," he asked.

"Yes, sir," Harry answered, surprised.

"Harry, I want you to begin Occlumency lessons again," Dumbledore said.

"But, Professor ...." Harry began, thinking of Snape.

"I will be your teacher, Harry," Dumbledore interrupted.

"Oh ... okay Professor. When?"

"As soon as term begins. I am afraid I will not be able to be here with you often enough now if Voldemort and his followers are becoming active once more, but once we're all back at school I will have more time. This is still of great importance for you, Harry. Meet me in my office after your classes our first day back. And Harry," Dumbledore continued, "I want to know if this happens again."

As Dumbledore left, Ron and Hermione hauled Harry to his feet and steered him upstairs. Everyone looked on anxiously as the three of them slowly disappeared up the staircase. Ginny in particular seemed troubled as she got up to embrace her mother. Once in his and Ron's bedroom, Harry lay weakly on his bed closing his eyes. The pain was less blinding than before but still there. Ron and Hermione sat on either side of him. Harry felt vaguely aware of their presence in the room. After a moment, he suddenly realized that he had been shutting Ron and Hermione out ever since he had been back with them. Harry also realized that they were trying to understand what he was going through, even if they would never really know what it was like. Hermione spoke first.

"Harry .... "she began, then paused helplessly, looking over at Ron.

"Look ... I'm sorry I haven't been, well ... myself lately," Harry answered, opening his eyes again. For a few minutes all that they could hear was the occasional bump downstairs or the soft creaking of floorboards. Everyone was silent for a moment. Hedwig and Pigwidgeon were both asleep in their cages. The pain in Harry's scar was now a dull ache.

"I'm sorry I've been avoiding you two since I got back. I just ..." Harry trailed off.

"It's all right, mate," Ron spoke.

"We understand, Harry," Hermione agreed.

"BUT YOU DON'T," Harry said, much more loudly than he had intended. He sat up and sighed, calming himself. "I haven't been completely honest with you." Ron and Hermione simply waited, looking at Harry. Harry did not know that they had heard him grieving in his room that first night back. "There's something I have to tell you ...." Harry whispered. Harry knew the time had come to tell his two best friends about the prophecy.