The summer passed without consequence. Harry, still angry to be cooped up at Grimmauld Place, was gloomy and rude to everyone who passed through. He didn't want to be in a cramped place with a dozen people visiting every day. He wanted to be left alone. He wanted to spend time by himself, without anyone asking him if he was alright. Sometimes he would take out his father's old invisibility cloak and stand in front of the front door, trying to stop himself from just opening the door and running into the warm sunlight. He would then walk silently back up the stairs and sit down in Sirius' room, staring out the window. The sky was always grey and dark above him.

He tried to tell himself every day that he would beat Voldemort. He studied books and spoke to wizards around the house, collecting spells that he would teach himself when he got back to Hogwarts and was allowed to do magic. But no matter how hard he tried, he could not shake the image in his head of Voldemort killing him. He could not help but believe that there was nothing left. His scar prickled almost daily, though it had stopped for a time. Voldemort was steadily gaining power. But what could Harry do?

He had this image in his head of Voldemort killing him, he had his scar burning in his skull telling him how powerful Voldemort was, he had people around him constantly telling him he could not even step outside for fear of Voldemort. How was Harry supposed to defeat him?

Hermione and Ron were sick of him by the time they were ready to go back to school. They did not say it, but Harry knew it was true. They often did not search for him when he was hidden under his cloak, and they did leave the house willingly, though only once, to Diagon Alley to buy their school things, and they spent an entire day there.

Harry knew they were glad that they had to sit in the prefect car.

Harry sat in an empty car, leaning against the window, his arms crossed across his chest. The station was the first public place Harry had been since he left the Dursleys. He hadn't even gotten to go outside to get there. He, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny had been given a portkey to get them to the station. Now that the Ministry believed that Voldemort was back (though they didn't quite admit it straight out to the public) they could use portkeys and floo powder with less risk; though they still preferred safer modes of transportation.

Mr. Weasley had not left Harry's side until he was on the train. Now, as Harry sat in the corner of an empty compartment of the train, thoughts were flowing through his head as he looked out the opposite window, past the hallway. He thought about death. How his father had died. How his mother had died. How Sirius had died. How he, too, would soon die. He didn't let any of the tears that were all too common now fall, just in case Malfoy or anyone else came by.

No one came. Malfoy did, stopping only to taunt Harry for being alone, but left when Harry threatened to do worse than he and his friends had done to Malfoy the year before.

Harry realized then that he was surprised that the Order had not insisted on a guard even on the train. They had had one watching Harry the entire year previously, and Harry no longer trusted their belief that he was safe at Hogwarts.

They arrived at the school after dark, as they always did. Ron and Hermione caught up with him finally as he climbed into a carriage.

"Evening, Harry!" Ron said, grinning. Harry smiled back. The three friends joked on the short ride to the castle as if they had been doing it all day. Harry was glad he was still capable of enjoying himself.

They had barely sat down at the Gryffindor table when Professor McGonagall strode in, followed by a stream of first years. Harry looked at how frightened they looked, just worrying about what house they would be in. It doesn't matter, Harry thought. It won't matter any more, after Voldemort comes back. He wondered why he was even there. School wasn't going to help him. He had no chance.

The entire hall went quiet as she placed the Sorting Hat on the stool. It sang a song of sorrow and regret for the actions of wizards in recent years. Harry understood what it was saying, and listened attentively.

This year won't pass without event,

Evil must still be sent

The world must be protected

Before evil has been perfected

Only after it is defeated

Shall Hogwarts be completed

Be wary of all, but do not fear

This shall be an amazing year.

Harry repeated the last lines of the song. He understood. He was being ridiculous. He had spent his entire summer grieving for himself, convinced that he was going to die a horrible death before he graduated. But maybe he wasn't. Maybe he could survive it, if only he tried. Maybe now, now that he was out of hiding, into the world like he was supposed to be – he could fight back.

Maybe he wouldn't die.

Besides, what good would he be if he didn't at least try? If he didn't enjoy life first? He vowed to himself he would not think about Voldemort all the time – he knew that he was being silly; he would never stop thinking about Voldemort, he would just not worry about him as much.

As Professor McGonagall stepped up with the list of names, no one clapped for the hat. It's words were as haunting as they were the year before, and while they may not have said as much to the other students, they made all the difference to Harry.

Dumbledore stood up after all of the first years had been sorted. "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts. These past years have been difficult for the wizarding world, and I am sure that the years to come will be equally difficult. We cannot afford to feud within our walls. The houses must unite, and the students must work together. Any students caught fighting will be given detention, no questions asked." He glanced at Harry quickly, then began to speak again. Harry quickly understood what he was going to say, and instantly thought, no. He can't, I- but Dumbledore continued. "This especially includes certain students who must seriously concentrate on their studies, as you all do anyway. You know who I am talking about, and I ask you to leave him alone. Of course, you would leave him alone anyway, wouldn't you."

A few heads turned towards Harry and he heard snickers from the Slytherin table. Harry closed his eyes and groaned. That would not be helpful. Didn't Dumbledore know better than that? He may not have named Harry personally, but everyone knew what Harry had done the year before; what he had said. No one was soon to forget any of that year.

"The Forbidden Forest is off limits to all students, as it has always been. You all know the rules. Now fill your bellies with the wonderful food before you!"

The plates filled with food, and everyone quickly forgot about everything Dumbledore had said. Hermione and Ron looked at Harry. "What was that?" Ron asked. "Why did he do that?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Harry needs to concentrate on his studies, Ron. He can't be worrying about other students bothering him." She sighed. "That seems sort of silly to me. If he tells the students not to bother Harry, they will bother him more than ever before."

Harry nodded. "He knows that." He said. "I didn't notice it before. He wants me to have to work. If it comes easy to me, then I'm going to end up not trying. He wants my life to be difficult."

"Why?"

Harry shook his head. He wanted to tell them everything that Dumbledore had told him, but he hadn't been able to bear it since he had learned it. He had told them briefly, but had not gone into detail. He knew if he told them now he would probably start crying again, and he certainly did not want that to happen in the middle of the Great Hall. "Later." He said.

He picked at his food quietly while Ron and Hermione talked with all of their other friends whom they had not seen since school ended in June. Harry greeted everyone and joined in the conversations a bit, but mostly stayed to himself.

Harry excused himself from the table, and, though Hermione insisted that she and Ron join him, proceeded up to the Gryffindor common room by himself. He climbed the spiral staircase to the boys dormitory and collapsed on his bed. He had never had such a horrible first day of school, not even when he and Ron had almost been expelled in their second year. Now that he was upstairs, his stomach was growling. He had spent the day alone, and alone he would stay. His classmates were scared of him again, for no reason, as always, and he was not ready to face the world.

He knew Ron and Hermione would face it with him, but he still couldn't do it. He knew he was pushing himself away from them. He knew that they would never give up on him, but he wanted them to forget about him. When he faced Voldemort, he would face him alone.

If he couldn't face the world alone, what good was he?

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Ok, this chapter wasn't terribly long… but I stretched a page in my notebook into 1300 words. I think that is pretty good!

Well, there are no reviews, because I just updated five minutes ago. Oh well!

"If you ever fall off the Sears Tower, just go real limp, because maybe you'll look like a dummy and people will try to catch you because, hey, free dummy."

-unolimbo