{--AUTHOR'S NOTE-----------------------------}

So. I have wanted to write a Harry Potter fanfiction for a long time, but the question always is, about what? Where do I start? I'm sitting here right now typing off the top of my head, and have nothing but a vague idea of where this story is heading - but then again, I pretty much go about life with only a vague idea of where I'm heading. . I don't want to write about an alternate universe, I don't want to write about the characters being grown-up... so, since Rowling doesn't seem to be popping out another book any time soon, I'm going to take matters into my own hands! I'm going to start at the sixth year. And judging by my inability to write short stories, this will probably become another long fanfiction that I will forget, loose interest in, be distracted from, discontinue, find a year later and start up again. Sorry! That's how I am, and I hate it, but I guess I'm incorrigible. All the same, don't let my sad perserverance (and/or attention span) deter you from reading the fic.

-Kirei

P.S. still sitting; mind blank .... this may take a while.

{--CHAPTER ONE----------------------------------}

Harry lay back on his bed, gazing blankly at the ceiling. Under any normal circumstances (if anything about his life could be considered "normal"), this would probably have been the best summer of his life. The Dursleys avoided him as much as possible, he recieved weekly letters from Ron and Hermione - even Dumbledore had gone so far as to occasionally inform him of the Order's "goings on".

But these were not normal circumstances. Sirius was dead. And despite what Dumbledore had told him at the end of last school year, Harry couldn't help but get the sickening feeling that it was all his fault. If only he hadn't been so gullible... if only he'd listened to Hermione... at that thought a pang of anger stirred in his heart. Hermione! Why hadn't she stopped him?! ...She tried, he reminded himself. She did try; it's your fault, there's no use getting mad at her. It was because of him that Sirius was gone, and was never coming back. But wait... what was it that Luna had said, last year, about her mom? "It's not like I'll never see her again." Harry shook his head. Luna believed in a lot of weird things. But she'd been right about the thestrels, hadn't she? Maybe he would see Sirius again... yes, he decided, he would. And that was that. He hopped off the bed and strode over to Hedwig's empty cage, still feeling the horrible loss of his godfather, but his heart was somewhat lightened.

This was all too typical of Harry these days. His emotions shot up and down like a roller coaster, and being shut up in his room with no one but himself to argue with didn't help him much. Whenever he did get the urge to slip downstairs for meals or to watch the news, his pent-up feelings usually got let out at Dudley, to which Uncle Vernon would turn a violent shade of purple, but say nothing. He had not forgotten Mad-eye Moody's threat at the beginning of the summer.

Harry arrived at the cage and was just about to refill Hedwig's empty water trough when the gorgeous snowy owl swooped in through the window and landed lightly atop his mop of black hair. She stuck out her leg elegantly, waiting for him to untie the letter attatched to it.

"'Lo, Hedwig." Harry said as carefully removed the letter. She cooed in response, then settled into her cage. Harry opened the letter. It was a return one from Ron.

Listen Harry, I know you really want to come to The Burrow, and Mum's real eager to have you, but Dumbledore won't allow it. He says you're safer with your aunt and uncle. And don't be thinking I've been having regular little chats with him, because I havent; in fact I haven't seen him all summer. I'm just passing along the message, so quit nagging me about it! Don't worry, soon we'll both be together on the Hogwarts Express - Fred and George have sent me a load of free candies from their shop, and I think you'll like 'em. Don't know how those two got so bloody clever... Oh, Hermione wants to know how you did on your O.W.L.s. She got excellent grades on all of hers, of course, and I only pretty much got Acceptables (except in Potions...), but thanks to you I did great in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Sorry for the long letter. Can't wait to see you; don't kill yourself in the week that's left. -Ron
Harry folded up the letter with a sigh and flopped back down on his bed. His grades were pretty much the same as Ron's; miraculously he had mangaged to scrape by every O.W.L. with a passing grade - maybe less than a scrape with Potions. Still, it satisfied him to think about the look on Snape's face when he realized that Harry had passed his class. Thoughts of tests, classes, and his future swam around in his head as the sky outside his window grew steadily darker. The thoughts transformed into the usual nightmares he had every night... the voices behind the veil... Sirius falling in slow motion... every inch of Harry's being wanting to somehow reach out and grab him... to save him... but everything ending up in nothing but despairing darkness...

The last week of summer crawled along at a snail's pace, but Harry managed to get through it. Soon he found himself stuck to the seat of Uncle Vernon's leather-upholstered BMW, the hot sun sending unbearable blasts of heat through the window onto the side of his head.

"Ruddy air conditioner must be broken," Vernon muttered under his breath while jabbing the AC button with a pudgy purple finger. Dudley sat opposite Harry leaning agianst the window, in an effort to keep his immense bulk as far away from the young wizard as possible. Aunt Petunia sat ramrod straight in the passenger seat, wringing her bony hands nervously.

"So, you - you're sure that it's safe at that school, are you?" Pentunia stammered uncomfortably. Quickly, she added, "Because if I recieve one more of those - those talking letters-"

"Howlers," Harry supplied.

"-If I recieve another one, I don't care what it says - you're out of the house for good!" She looked absolutely horrified at the thought of what result might come to her for such a banishment.

Harry stared curiously at his aunt. Her voice was hard and cold enough, but somehow, maybe because of the way her eyes kept darting to her lap, he didn't think she really meant what she said. He remembered the look on her face after she recieved the Howler last summer, and the difinitiveness of her voice when she said that he would stay...

The Dursleys were quiet for the rest of the drive, and Harry, not wishing to disturb the pleasant silence, amused himself by looking out the car window. A curious sight caught his eye. A large black bird sat on a branch of one of the trees lining the streets, completely oblivious to the busy babble of pedestrian passerby below. The bird looked rather out of place among the myriads of pidgeons that fluttered about London. As the car drove past the tree, the bird took flight and settled on the branch of another tree further up the road. Harry caught a glimmer of something shiny on it's leg. When they passed the bird again, he noticed that a small golden circlet dangled from one of the bird's legs like an anklet. To his further surprise, the bird took off once again and landed in another tree ahead of them. So it seemed to follow them for the rest of the journey, and when the trees eventually subsided it took to hopping from lamp post to lamp post.

Harry sat back in his seat, puzzled. He knew this was no ordinary bird. He wondered if it was trying to get a letter to him, as if it were an owl. But he hadn't seen any letters attatched to its leg, only that odd circlet... Come to think of it, the poor thing didn't even fly normally - it only made short bursts of flight and quickley landed on something. It looked rather tired. Maybe its wings are clipped, he thought. But as the fowl took flew up again, he knew that it was not so; it's majestic black wings spread out regally, though in a spasmodic fashion. Maybe its hurt, Harry pondered, or maybe that circlet is weighing it down... but before he got a chance to observe the bird's leg closer, they arrived at King's Cross Station and it swooped out of sight.

"We're here," Uncle Vernon barked, disengaging the keys and opening his door with a huff. He stalked around to the back of the car and unloaded Harry's trunk while Harry struggled out of the car with Hedwig's cage. He set it beside his things and went to get a trolley. Uncle Vernon helped him load his stuff onto it without a word, then turned about, stuffed himself back into his car, and started up the engine. Harry gave a polite little wave, but all his uncle did was nod curtly before driving off.

With a sigh and a squawking Headwig, Harry rolled his trolley noisily toward the large brick pillar between platforms nine and ten. His fowl-filled thoughts were interrupted by a shout and a squeal behind him, and soon he found himself in the embrace of an excited, bushy-haired person.

"Oh, Harrry, I'm so glad you're alright!" Hermione said breathlessly, releasing Harry from her hug and holding him at arm's length for examination. Behind her, Ron shrugged helplessly. She continued, "I know that Dumbledore said the safest place is with your aunt and uncle, but Ron and I were worried about you just the same, weren't we, Ron?"

"So you two've been have fun together, I take it," Harry said in an unintentionally sardonic tone.

"Wha-? No," Hermione stammered, "Well yes, I've been at Ron's place for the past couple of weeks, but we were spending too much time trying to get them to let you come that we didn't have time for fun. We really were worried about you Harry, especially because of what happened last yea-"

Harry turned away as his friend's sentence fell. He had just managed to stop thinking about Sirius for a while, and he didn't need to be reminded of it again. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Hermione hang her head. "I'm sorry," she said softly.

Ron cut in, "But she's right, you know, we didn't have much fun. We didn't even get to go anywhere except Diagon Alley - speaking of which, Mum got your books for you, as promised." He reached over to his trolley and picked up a stack of books tied neatly together with a piece of twine, complete with a little sack of coins on top. "She picked up some money for you at Gringotts. She still hasn't found out about the money you gave to Fred and George, though," he said with a ruefull grin, "they refuse to tell her where their funds came from."

Harry smiled and remembered the mischievious Weasley twins. It just donned on him that they would not be attending Hogwarts this year. Ron seemed to have realized the same thing, and slumped his shoulders a bit. "I guess this year is going to be a bit duller without them, huh?"

Hermione interrupted, "Listen, I'm sorry to break up a sentimental moment, but if we don't hurry, we'll miss the train."

Harry and Ron nodded. Wordlessley, the trio of friends directed their trolleys at the big brick pillar, and walked toward it with a quick, determined pace. Soon they reached it and with a woosh, they disappeared among a crowd of disgruntled travelers.