Prologue
The summer was nearly over, and for the first time, Harry didn't want to go back to Hogwarts. But who could blame him. Sirius was dead. He had been part father, part brother to Harry. Now it seemed as though he had no one.
But, you're probably wondering, what about Ron, and Hermione, and the Order? Didn't they take care of him? Though it is true that they watched over him, they wouldn't talk about Sirius's death. He had been holding in all these emotions about his childhood, Cedric's death, Sirius's death, he hadn't even told them about the prophecy. Everyone thought it would be better to not discus topics such as these, but now Harry knew how Cho felt. True, he wasn't going about sobbing like a broken fire hydrant, and didn't mean to, but he did want to cry.
Only a day remained before it was time to once again board the train, and everyone was busy packing and running around collecting items. Harry had been packed for weeks. This was quite unlike him, but he had been unlike himself for quite a while. Ever since… Sirius's death. "Why are all my thoughts in someway linked to that- that… event? Why won't anyone talk about…" his thoughts were interrupted as Ron came into the room. "Hey mate, what's up?" Harry didn't know how to reply. "Er- nothing." Was all he said before he walked out of the room, leaving Ron standing there. "What's the matter with him? Wonder if Hermione knows. Best go find her" and with that, the tall red-haired boy left the room to talk to his other best friend.
