A/N: Well I'm glad at least some people are still reading. Thanks to all that reviewed and to Voxenking for sticking with my story! I'm going to try shorter and more frequent chapters this time around to see how it goes.

Chapter 7: The Monster Within

Harry awoke the next morning at around 10 o'clock. He looked at his surroundings for a moment before the events of the night came back to him. He shuddered and then looked over at the pulled curtains around what was left of Bellatrix. Then he remembered his hand. He looked at his heavily bandaged stub. How helpless he felt without his hand! He could not remember another time when he had felt so alone.

Nobody else was in the room so he called for Mme. Pomfrey. She came bustling into the room and asked what he needed.

"I was, er, wondering," he seemed to know the answer before he even asked it, "Will I be able to get my- my hand back?" he swallowed.

Mme. Pomfrey's face fell, "No, I'm afraid no magic at this time can grow back lost limbs. If your hand would have been severed then I could have put it back then but seeing as it was incinerated…"

Harry flung off his bed sheets and swung his legs violently out of his bed. He strode to the door, nearly pushing over Mme. Pomfrey and continued walking down the hallway to the Gryffindor common room. All the other students were in classes and he encountered no one. He went straight to the room of requirement.

As he entered he found a chair in a small room facing a fireplace. He sat himself down in it and promptly started to cry. He couldn't believe that he'd been crying so much lately. He thought it childish but he knew that there was not help for it. He didn't know how long he sat there, contemplating different things.

He though of Sirius and his death. He though that he'd gotten over it but he realized that he still hadn't fully gotten over it.

He thought of Bellatrix. Sure he had wanted her dead but did he really want he mangled and dismembered beyond recognition. He'd beaten her to a pulp, and beyond. What kind of monster was hidden within him? Did he really even want to have all that power if it meant turning into the savage brute that he had become?

He though too of his hand, or his stub as he would have to learn to call it. Why did he have to loose his hand? Fortunately it had been his right hand. He both held his wand and wrote with his left hand. Fortunate? What was he talking about? He'd lost his hand!

But oddly enough the loss of his hand was not the forerunner of his thoughts. They were still in the hospital wing where he knew Bellatrix's body lay mangled. He didn't even care that it was Bellatrix. He was a murderer. He never wanted to become a murderer, especially after he found out that he would either kill or be killed by Voldemort.

And yet here he was, scarcely two months later and he'd already killed someone. And 'killed' didn't even begin to do what Harry had done justice.

Harry hadn't studied the room carefully and if he had he would have seen a pensive on the table beside him. He noticed it now. He'd always wanted one of these since starting occlumency with Snape and he didn't want to have the memory of his savagery any longer. He kept replaying the battle in his mind watching Bellatrix become less and less distinguishable.

He pointed his wand to his temple and concentrated on the memory. He then extracted a silvery strand from his head and placed it in the pensive. He'd never done it before and never really gave much though to what he was doing. That eased his mind immensely and he gathered up his Gryffindor courage and headed back to the common room to face his friends. Since Mme. Pomfrey had applied a healing salve to Harry's stub his skin had already grown around where his hand had been severed. Other than the fact that his hand had gone missing he looked normal.

He had been in the room of requirement for most of the day and classes had ended half an hour ago. He walked up dreadingly to the portrait of the fat lady and said the password and she swung aside to let him past.

The common room was fairly full and everyone was engulfed in friendly chatter. But the moment Harry stepped in the room fell silent. He'd made sure to walk in left hand first in case anyone was looking. Now what? He saw no other way around it and stepped fully into the room revealing what Ginny obviously had told no one.

Gasps filled the room as everyone saw what had happened to Harry, several of the younger girls fainted. Harry wasn't about to stand around and let himself become a freak show.

Head high, eyes challenging anyone who dared to say something to him, he walked across the room to the boy's dormitory stairs. All eyes were on him. He walked up to where his room was and entered, making sure to close the door behind him. He had assumed the room empty but was shocked to discover otherwise.

"Neville?" Harry asked the boy, who was shaking worse than Harry had ever seen him do, "Are you okay?"

"Harry," said Neville tentatively, "I- you- I took your hand from you."

Harry saw the logic in what Neville was saying. Even though he would have died if he had acted he was still loyal to Harry. But on the other hand, hang on, thanks to that kid I've lost my hand, there is no other hand and he shall suffer! Yes, I'll finish him worse than that Bellatrix I slaughtered the other night! He deserves it after what he did to me!

Neville did not like the grin that was spreading across Harry's face. Without warning the green fire flared into existence and Harry's eyes had once again gone steely.

"Harry! Please! Stop!" attempted Neville desperately.

Harry grinned wider; he would have put Malfoy to shame with the sinister grin now planted on his mouth. Harry gathered his two hands together and was about to throw a flame ball when suddenly the door flung open.

"Harry, stop!" cried Ginny as she saw the situation at hand.

Now how would I like to finish off the one who had cost me my hand? Perhaps a fireball, that seems fitting. And extra painful one at that. Harry clasped his hands in the other and nearly had it off when he heard it, distant and far away. "Harry, stop!"

He recognized that voice and found himself being drawn towards it until he was in his room at Hogwarts. The steely glaze was gone. He was 'good' Harry once more.

"Ginny?" he asked, Ginny looked like she was about ready to break down and flung herself away from Harry as he moved to hug her. She ran rapidly down the stairs.

Neville who was at the far side of the room has worked his way silently to the door and followed Ginny out. Harry couldn't believe he'd lost it again. He needed to explain things to Ginny.

He waited several minutes then grabbed his pensive and headed downstairs to see if she was around. He ignored the stares that the others were sending his way and looked for Ginny. He did not see her in the common room so he headed up the stairs to find Ginny in her room. It never occurred to him that the stairs let him up.

He knocked on the door and when nobody answered he entered, nobody was there. He walked over to Ginny's bed, the one with GW embroidered onto the blankets, and sat down with his head in his hands. He looked at her night side table and found several pictures of all her brothers, Hermione and even Luna. Harry was disappointed to discover no picture of his own.

Until he saw some scraps on the floor. After a quick 'reparo' he saw that the picture was indeed of him. Ginny, obviously in 1st or 2nd year at the time had drawn a heart with the letters HP + GW in the middle, on the back of the photo. He repaired the frame as well and took the picture to his room.

Again he did not notice that the stairs let him up or more importantly that he had left his pensive on Ginny's bedside table.

Ginny had run straight to her room after Harry had nearly killed Neville. She couldn't believe it! He would have been a murderer. She had comforted him earlier that summer about having to kill Voldemort, she sickened at the though. Why would he want to harm his friend Neville? He wasn't the boy she'd though he was. She tore his picture to shreds and ran to the prefect's bathroom where she closed the door and locked it.

It wasn't until the rest of the castle was asleep that she finally emerged from the bathroom and wandered back up too her room. It was evident when she walked in that someone had left something that didn't belong. She noticed the pensive right away and looked at it. Having never seen a pensive herself she didn't know what to make of it.

But when she looked in she saw some shimmering silver liquid. She couldn't resist the temptation to lean in close enough to touch it. Then she felt herself being pulled into the pensive.

She was in the hospital wing. Suddenly she, Ginny, came in the door to warn Harry about the death eater attack. She watched the entire scene unfold, from him knocking her unconscious, Harry's savage attack on Bellatrix, his fight with Neville and finally the loss of his hand.

When she withdrew she had no doubt in her mind that she never wanted to speak to Harry ever again. Sure Bellatrix was a death eater but to disfigure someone like that. She didn't even want to think about it.

She stayed up most the night until she finally cried herself to sleep.

The next day proved to be Harry's hardest day ever. The entire school knew he had done something to merit the loss of 100 points and a month's worth of detention. The only thing Harry was glad of was that the headmaster had kept everything quiet and it seemed that not even the rest of the staff knew what happened. Just him, Dumbledore and Neville. Or so he thought.

Ginny was quiet the entire day as well although nobody really seemed to notice her. She still wasn't over seeing Harry in 'monster mode' and she wasn't sure she ever would be.

Harry was scheduled for transfiguration that morning but Dumbledore came over to Gryffindor table to inform Harry that he requested his presence in his office during first class.

Harry wouldn't talk to anyone, even the ever persistently prying Hermione. Ron and Hermione soon gave up and hurried off to transfiguration before McGonagall got angry.

Harry walked slowly to the headmaster's office. He had a feeling that he wasn't going to enjoy this discussion very much. As he approached the gargoyle guarding the headmaster's office it jumped aside for him. Apparently Dumbledore had been expecting him.

As he walked in the first thing he noticed that the chair in front of Dumbledore's desk had leather straps all over it to restrain people. The second was that Dumbledore was sitting across the table from the chair. There was no joy in his disposition.

"Please, take a seat Harry. I will explain the restraint devices in a moment." He said.

Harry reluctantly took the spot across from Dumbledore.

"Now, there are several things I want to talk about. First of which is your Apparation license. You will need to wait until your 17th birthday to receive it now. I have decided that until a current problem is resolved you will be unfit for it. And also, there is no need for you to become an implantant any more since you have displayed that you can do wandless magic anyways."

"The Second thing I wanted to talk about was your aunt. She is being forced to learn magic and is advancing rapidly and will soon be at the level that you were at the end of your first year. When she reaches 7th year level then she will be sent back to her home with her apparation license. Since she is after all, magical."

"The third thing, one moment please," he flicked his wand as the chair Harry was sitting in and it bound him tightly, "Is your power. You recall the prophecy as well as I. "But he will have power that the dark lord knows not." At first I believed this to be the well of power that you had recently broken into that day in Diagon Alley. But it would seem that I am wrong." Said Dumbledore sadly.

He paused, and Harry squirmed uncomfortably. The chair wasn't getting any softer and the leather bindings were starting to hurt.

"For upon closer examination I realized that he will have power that the dark lord knows not. And yet he had seen you that day in Diagon Alley, how then could he not know these powers? And then I realized it, the power that the dark lord knows not isn't power at all, it is a power. The power of love." He paused, whether it was to think or for dramatic effect Harry did not know.

"The power of love. Voldemort does in fact, not know the power of love so I find it highly likely that this is the power of with the prophecy speaks, not your newfound well of power. In fact I have a theory about the power you have found."

"Sir," interjected Harry, "Um, do you think you could take these off? They're getting kind of tight."

"No Harry," replied Dumbledore, "You will keep them on until I am finished speaking to you."

Who did he think he was? Talking to he, Harry Potter like that. It was he that that Longbottom fool had protected before he had had his hand removed! He would suffer.

Harry's green fire burst outwards but just as quickly died, flickered, died, flickered, then went out for good. And it left Harry drained of all energy.

"What just happened sir?" asked Harry, shocked, "I feel all tired!"

"That was your 'power' kicking in. It is for that reason that you are wearing the leather restraints around your wrists during this meeting. Otherwise you may have dealt me a serious or perhaps even fatal blow. I'm sorry but it was necessary." Said Dumbledore informatively.

"Yeah, sure, no problem. You were saying?" asked Harry as though nothing had happened.

"Well, my theory is this; when you are angry then your power comes to life. But I think that this power is more of a curse than a blessing. When Voldemort first cast the killing curse on you he transferred some of his powers and characteristics on to you. The second time he hit you he transferred more of his powers and characteristics to you. But they only seem to come to life when you are angry."

"I see, that makes sense since when I am in 'monster mode' I feel the same way as when I am seeing what Voldemort is seeing, like in a vision like last year. So what am I going to do about it, I can't just attack random people whenever I get angry." Said Harry.

"There are two possible solutions." Said Dumbledore, "Don't get angry or wear these leather restraints everywhere you go. If we can train these powers to be used at will and controllably then you will be a very fine wizard indeed! But until then…" finished Dumbledore as he handed Harry four leather bracelets, "Wear these around your wrists and ankles.

Harry snatched them from him and turned and exited the room without a backward glance earning a few 'Really!' 'I say!' and other similar comments from the previous headmasters' portraits.

Harry was in a foul mood and the rest of the school was giving him his distance and nobody questioned his wearing the leather bracelets. Everyone that is except Malfoy who would bump into him on a regular basis in-between classes. Which left Harry constantly drained since his anger would flare up and then the bracelets would sap his strength.

Finally come Friday he found that he was able to not loose control once that day and was feeling pretty good about himself. Sure his friends hadn't been talking to him lately and he was doing miserably in all his classes. But nonetheless he found himself looking forward to the next day's quidditch captain tryouts.

Saturday also passed for the most part uneventfully. Harry spent most of his time working on his homework assignments. Although he had moved on from being Snape's enemy didn't change the way he was picked on in class. Harry had lost already 155 points for Gryffindor including his 100 points. Hermione would glare at him when he answered a question incorrectly but other than that she stayed clear of him.

He had nearly finished his last essay for McGonagall when the clock ticked around to 6 o'clock and it was time to head down to the quidditch pitch. He grabbed his trusty firebolt and took to the pitch.

There was an average sized crowd assembled for the tryouts. Harry counted around 25. He spotted Ron and Ginny amongst the crowd but kept to himself. Cho was also present. Most of the other students were in their later years but there were the odd 2nd or 3rd year student looking extremely intimidated.

Harry didn't have to wait long before Mme. Hooch walked out of the official's tent and onto the field.

"Glad to see so many of you out here today," she beamed at them, "First order of business, team managers. There will be, as you know, six teams and each team will have one team manager or more specifically, teacher. So not only will you be judged on your flying abilities but you will also have a short interview with each of the six managers, who have already been selected. They are Professors McGonagall, Snape, Sprout, Flitwick, Dumbledore and myself."

Harry decided if he had a choice he'd like to play for McGonagall or Dumbledore.

"I will be rating," continued Mme. Hooch, "On your flying abilities and strategy in a skirmish. 14 of you will stay to play while the others will go for interviews then we will switch up after all the interviews are completed. Any questions?"

The interviews were not really all that difficult for Harry. When it was his turn with Snape, neither uttered a word. Harry knew that he would as soon nominate Harry a quidditch captain as streak the international quidditch cup match. It was his turn with Dumbledore next.

Once he was seated Dumbledore began the interview.

"Tell me Harry," He said, "Why should I pick you to be a captain?"

"Well sir," said Harry, trying his best to sound formal, "I have never yet failed to catch the snitch not counting the one time the dementors attacked the pitch and I've proven to be a very dedicated member of the Gryffindor quidditch team since my first year."

"Yes, all very impressive but if you've never missed the snitch yet then you must have a miss waiting for you quite soon. And you can't tell me that your catch when you caught it in your mouth was pure skill can you?"

Harry wanted to hurt him again; he could feel himself loosing control. No! He couldn't loose control; he wouldn't have any energy for the practical part of the tryout. He breathed outwards deeply.

"Very good Harry, it seems that you are learning to control your emotions." You will have my vote, "Move along now."

And finally the interviews were over and it was time for the on-broom part of the tryout. Harry played seeker and was facing off against a gangly 5th year boy from Hufflepuff that he did not recognize.

"Here's how things are going to work," started Mme. Hooch, "I'm going to release the balls and then the game will begin, I will officiate as well at watch your skills, if the snitch is caught then the catching seeker will release it and wait 4 minutes before resuming the search."

The game went fairly fast paced seeing as these were all the people trying out for captain. Harry caught the snitch twice and the other boy had surprised Harry with a good feint before catching it once himself.

About 1-½ hours into the game Mme. Hooch called out that the next snitch catch would end the match. It was about ten minutes before Harry finally saw it. He started for it but the Hufflepuff was beside him in an instant and he had the better angle since he had seen which way Harry had been looking.

'He's a sneaky one!' Harry though. Not that he wasn't sneakier though. He started off to the right, away from the snitch until he was going straight away from the snitch. He smiled to himself, he almost felt sorry for the 5th year, almost. He'd been thinking of quidditch all day and this was the perfect opportunity to use a new move he had though of.

Suddenly Harry jumped full off his broom and swung his leg sideways, kicking his broom into a 180° turn and landed again on his broom, backwards but going the right way and doing it in such a fashion he was able to maintain his high speed.

He leaned over backwards so he could see forwards. He was in luck; the ball was hovering just 6 feet above the ground. He launched himself off of his broom again into a back flip snatching up the snitch in midair. He smiled; he had forgotten how good it felt to fly.

They were back in the common room several minutes later. Ron, who had been playing keeper at the time, came over to congratulate him and all was quickly forgiven between the two. They headed back to the common room for a good night's sleep.

The next morning at breakfast, many people were present early, despite the fact that there were no classes that day. Once the hall was nearly filled Dumbledore stood.

"I would like to take this time to announce this year's quidditch captains and their team managers. The player's were selected based on their interviews and their interviews alone but were ranked on their on-pitch skills. The first ranked player will get first choice of their first teammate. The first ranked captain, team manager being Professor McGonagall is Harry Potter."

The hall, minus Slytherin erupted into cheers but died down quickly in anticipation of the next captain.

"Followed by Draco Malfoy whose manager will be Professor Snape. Next we have Justin Finch-Fletchly whose manager will be Professor Sprout. Then Abigail Harrison whose manager will be Professor Flitwick. Next is Jennifer Thompson, managed by myself and lastly Jeffery Remington managed by Mme. Hooch. It will be up to the tryouts for the various positions will be held next Saturday once again at 7 o'clock."

The hall filled with excited chatter. Two Gyrffindors had made captain. Jennifer Thompson was a fourth year Gryffindor. His peers congratulated Harry from all sides, some, those who had tried for captain, only half-heartedly so. Harry was glad that everyone was treating him the same as before now. None of them knew what had happened that day in the hospital wing.

Except Ginny. Who had still kept to herself ever since she had seen the vision in the pensive. She had returned it to his room the next day so that he didn't get suspicious. But she was almost repulsed by Harry, how could he be so cruel?

Harry was for the most part enjoying being congratulated by his friends but he was somewhat saddened by that fact that Ginny hadn't come to do so as well. In fact she hadn't been talking to him for a while. He decided to talk to her later and to enjoy himself for the moment.

He spent the rest of the day researching amputations in the library. As much as he was pleased with himself he was still very lost. Looking down at his wrist and seeing no hand sent shivers up his spine every time. He just couldn't go on like this! He felt so empty. But he found from his research that nobody had ever replaced a hand that was destroyed, even in the magical world.

When he was leaving he saw Ginny sitting in the corner of the room doing her homework by herself so he decided that now was a good a time as any to talk with her.

"Hey Ginny." He greeted her, "What are you working on? I know that OWL year can be a lot of work."

"Oh, just some defense work, buy I don't need any help, you can go do whatever you were going to do."

"What if what I was going to do was help you out with your homework?" he replied casually.

"Then you can leave, I don't need any help." She said.

"Why don't you want my help?" he asked.

Ginny sighed. She may as well tell him what she'd seen, she was miserable lately; "Because you're a bloodthirsty brutal murderer!" she said it all in a whisper giving it a very dramatic effect.

Harry was shocked. How could she know about that? Sure she had seen him flare up on Neville but all the same, he hadn't actually done anything.

"What?" was all Harry could manage.

"You heard me," said Ginny firmly, "I don't know how it got there but I found your pensive in my room."

Ginny slammed her book shut and left the room in a fury. And left Harry sitting there with his hands in his head.

'That would explain it,' he though, 'that would explain it.'