Year 6 has begun. Harry returns to Hogwarts, hurt and alone from the loss of his godfather...
"Harry! Harry!"
Harry turned. Coming down the corridor towards him, long black hair waving behind her, was Cho Chang.
"Harry! How are you?" asked Cho, her ears turning red. Harry was suddenly reminded of Ron when he got embarrassed, and smiled to himself. Cho thought Harry was smiling at her, and grinned back.
"So…how was your summer?" Cho asked. How was my summer? Harry thought. Harry was plagued almost every night with the same dream, a reliving of Sirius' death, except they always ended with Harry leaping through the veil after his godfather and falling…falling through inky blackness until he awoke. Harry spent the first two weeks at the Dursleys sulking in his room, to the Dursley's happiness. After that, he was invited to stay at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, which brought back more memories of Sirius (not to mention Mrs. Black's portrait screaming at regular intervals, "cursed, no-good son of mine, disgraced the Black name by getting himself killed"). Voldemort seemed to have gone into hiding once again, probably rounding up more allies to fight the war. The Order of the Phoenix was having a hard time figuring out Voldemort's whereabouts and actions. They had worked hard during the summer, but had found no leads.
"Erm…Harry?" Harry had become very quiet while dwelling on all this, and Cho had become very confused. "I asked you how your summer was."
"Fine," lied Harry. "I have to go. I'll – talk to you later." Harry turned and walked away, leaving Cho behind, frowning. Harry didn't care. Nothing mattered anymore, his godfather was gone. Mrs. Weasley had told him, "It's going to be all right, Harry. We're here for you." Harry was grateful Mrs. Weasley was being so nice to him, but it still didn't help how he felt. It was true the Weasleys were his favourite wizard family, and they always welcomed him whenever he visited, but he had hoped to live with Sirius at number twelve, Grimmauld Place during summer breaks.
Harry approached the entrance to the Gryffindor common room. "Sir Cadogan smells," said Harry, giving the Fat Lady the password.
"Yes he does, that annoying git, call me a bad singer, how could he…" cried the Fat Lady in response, and swung her portrait open so Harry could enter the common room. Ron and Hermione were sitting quite close together near the fireplace, talking softly. Harry sighed loudly and sat down beside them, causing the two to jump in surprise and cough nervously.
"Harry, we didn't hear you coming, mate," Ron said, his ears turning red. "Where have you been?" He shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
"In the library," grumbled Harry. It was one of the only places Harry could go and just be by himself. It seemed he wanted to be alone quite a bit, since Sirius…Harry could feel tears beginning to well up in his eyes. He blinked them away and looked down at his hands.
"Are you all right, Harry?" asked Hermione, looking concerned.
"I'm fine!" snapped Harry, letting out his frustration. "Why do people keep asking me that?" He was tired of all the attention, of all the people looking at him in the hallways, on the streets, of all the people asking him if he was all right, telling him it's ok, don't worry…
"It's just…we're worried about you, mate," said Ron, "you know, with what happened last June…did you want to talk about it?"
Ron instantly knew he made a mistake. Harry exploded. "No, I don't want to talk about it! If I did, I would talk about it! I'm fine, there's nothing wrong!" Harry stood up suddenly, his bag falling out of his lap and the contents spilling onto the floor. "I'm going to bed!" Harry marched up the stairs to his dormitory and slammed the door.
Harry quickly dressed and got into bed. He felt only a little regret for yelling at Ron and Hermione, for his mind was occupied with other thoughts. He didn't want to sleep, because he knew what he would dream, but he was so tired…