Harry woke up late, and went and sat at his desk, looking out his window at the murky grey English sky, feeling that it reflected his current mood perfectly. He was fed up. He wanted to get back to school and get so buried in his work he wouldn't have time to think about Sirius. As he mused, a small, fluffy spherical object zoomed through the small gap of his open window. He opened his window and plucked the animal from the air, as it was still zooming happily around the room

"C'mon Pig." He put Pig in Hedwigs' cage, and the small owl began to drink rapidly, spraying Hedwig, who turned her beak up to him, seemingly appalled.

Harry went back to his desk and sat down. He ran his fingertips over the edges of the envelope, and then, almost reluctantly, opened it. Gazing at it, he recognised the neat handwriting as Hermiones'.

Harry,

Why haven't you replied to any of our letters? Are you okay? We're both really worried about you; this summer can't have been easy. I'm staying at the Burrow at the moment, and Ron and I are going to come pick you up tomorrow. Will you please write back and tell us how you are? I can't wait to see you; I've missed you so much.

Your friends,

Hermione and Ron

It was the first letter he had opened from them all summer, and whilst he felt a little bit guilty that he hadn't opened any of the others, he didn't think it was fair of them to expect him to write much at all this summer. What could he say? I've just lost my only living relative and the Dursleys are just being themselves? And what was all this 'we' stuff?

However, seeing as they were coming to pick him up tomorrow to spend the last days of summer at the Burrow, he thought he'd better respond. He found parchment and ink and scrawled a quick note.

Hi you two,

I'm fine; I just needed to be alone, but if it's all the same, I've missed both of you too. I'll see you tomorrow, and say thanks to Mrs. Weasley for me, I'm sure she encouraged this.

Harry

With that he attached the note to Hedwigs' leg, (she needed to stretch her wings, as she had been cooped up in his room all summer, no thanks to Uncle Vernon). Opening the window, he grabbed Pig and threw him out the window, and watched as the small bird began to rise into the sky. Hedwig landed softly on his shoulder, and gave his shoulder a slight squeeze. He felt almost sad as Hedwigs' weight vanished from his shoulder the next second, and watched longingly as the two became tiny specks against the grey sky.

He decided to pack his trunk, and spent the next few hours finding all his various belongings. He didn't feel much like dinner, and so he went to be early. Lying down on his back, hand resting on his stomach, he gazed at the ceiling. His eyes started to droop and he soon fell into a deep sleep.

He was walking down a small path, surrounded by dense forest on either side. He had his wand in front of him, shining light ahead for him to follow. He heard a rustling and spun round, but got caught on a tree root and fell face down to the ground. He spat the dirt from his mouth and as he stood up, he noticed a small figure moving steadily towards him. As it came closer, Harry raised his wand, ready for attack. Poised like a cat ready to pounce, Harry found himself shout an incantation at the figure, in a voice unlike his own, high pitched and merciless. As he felt himself produce the words, he thought it most unlike himself to ever use them, but sure enough his mouth formed them:

"Avada Kedavra!"

He watched as blinding green light flew out from his wand and hit the figure square in the chest. In this second, the light illuminated the figures face. It's tennis-ball sized eyes rolled in it's head as fell. Moving up to the unstirring creature, Harry discovered its identity. It was Dobby. Appalled at what he had done, he ran from the spot, crashing blindly through the trees. He tripped and fell again, and as he fell, the forest began to disappear…

Harry woke with a start the next morning. He looked outside to find the sun high in the sky. It had to be at least noon. He got up and went to the bathroom, shutting the door as after him. As he did so, the dream started to replay itself in his mind. Why had he done it? Had he actually done it? Or was Voldemort making him do it? Why had it been Dobby? As questions raced through his mind, he turned on the shower and undressed. Stepping into the warmth, he let the water run down his back. After a few minutes he was finished, and stepped out. The dream still fresh in his mind, he dried himself off and wrapped a towel around himself. When in his room, he pulled on a clean pair of clothes and sat down on his bed to think. He got up every now and then to put something he had forgotten into his trunk, but he constantly tried to think of a possible meaning for his dream. Soon enough, he heard a crack, and a figure appeared a metre away from him. Mr Weasley smiled at Harry and Harry smiled back, weakly.

"Let's be off Harry, I don't want to disturb your umm… relatives."

"How are Ron and Hermione?" Harry asked.

"They're er… well, you'll see in time." Mr Weasley replied quickly.

Within a few minutes Harry had closed his trunk and taken a last look at his room, not in a sad way, but in an 'I-hope-I don't-see-you-again-for-a-while' way. Mr Weasley had brought a portkey for him and Harry to use, and it turned out to be an umbrella. Grabbing onto the hooked end of the umbrella with one hand, and grabbing one handle from his trunk with the other, Harry felt the familiar jerk and was suddenly moving fast, and before he knew it, his feet hit solid ground.

Gazing upon a familiar site, Harry smiled as he remembered the good times he had spent at the Burrow. He turned, taking in the Burrow's lopsided kitchen, smiling. He immediately dropped his trunk and went upstairs to Ron's room, suddenly feeling like he couldn't wait another second to speak with him, even though he hadn't been that bothered during the summer. Opening the door, he saw Ron sitting on his bed, and Hermione reading a book entitled Spells for the Gifted. They were so… close. Hermione was leaning into Ron and Ron's arms were wrapped around Hermione's lower back/waist. Hermione was giggling softly, Ron was tickling the small stretch of skin visible on Hermione's hips. Feeling awkward, Harry made to back away, and instead of a quiet exit, his foot found a creaky floorboard. Immediately, Hermione disentangled herself from Ron, and before he could register it, he was wrapped into a tight embrace, and soft brown curls that smelt of honey and vanilla were under his nose. Overpowered, he subconsciously lowered his arms so they rested on her hips… Snapping to his senses he pulled away, a little to suddenly maybe, and looked Hermione in the face.

"Good to see you too Hermione."

"Harry why didn't you write?"

" I did," Harry replied, a little too quickly. "…last night."

Ron was standing next to Hermione, and he moved towards Harry, patting him on the back in a manly kind of way.

"How've you been mate?"

Harry hoped Ron hadn't meant anything about Sirius, so instead he found himself saying, "I missed you guys. Heaps"

"We missed you too Harry," Hermione replied, throwing her arms around his neck and pulling him into another tight embrace.

"Careful Hermione, you're going to strangle him." Ron sounded funny.

"Oh shush Ron!"

And at that moment, as Hermione pulled away from Harry, an awkward tension invaded the air, silence overcame them.

"Um, Harry?" Hermione said in a small voice most unlike her own.

"Yes?"

"Well, you see…" she paused. "the thing is…" she paused again. "Ron and I are…"

"Together?" Harry finished for her.

"Yes, we are."

"Finally, you two!" he clapped Ron on the back, and Ron then began to turn furiously red.

Harry felt himself say that he was glad they finally got together, as he was getting sick of Ron complaining. But inside, he found it to be a different story. He was jealous. Baffled by his confusion, Harry just looked at the floor, unable to met their eyes.

"Harry, is there a problem?" Ron posed.

"No, no I'm fine… just… just tired." Harry found himself answer quickly.

Almost to Harry's relief, Mrs. Weasley called Ron (how dare he suggest making guests help with dinner?) down to help her in the kitchen, and this left Harry alone with Hermione. The awkward tension seemed to build as Ron shut the door roughly behind him. Harry cleared his throat, and then walked slowly towards a bed, which must have been meant for him, as there were fresh sheets on it and it looked like it had been recently made. He sat down.

"So Hermione, how've you been?"

"I'm great Harry, just great, I haven't been this happy in a while."

"That's great." Said Harry, not even bothering to try and sound sincere.

"Oh Harry, I mean of course I haven't been great, no, of course, it's been tough… I can't imagine what it would have been like for you."

Harry just looked down at his hands. Suddenly, he found Hermione's face looking up at him beside his hands. She had crouched down, and was looking up at him. Startled, he started to sit up, but stopped when her warm hands were placed over his cold ones.

Hermione looked up at him, her face full of concern, but Harry couldn't look at her. He pulled away from her touch, turning to face his back to her. He found himself mumbling to Hermione.

"You shouldn't do that Hermione, if Ron sees us… you know what he's like."

"Harry, just because Ron and I are together doesn't mean I don't care about you anymore."

"But-"

"Harry, relax.." She looked at him, concern etched on her face. "You know you can talk to me about anything right? I know Sirius meant so much to you…"

Harry didn't hear her next words; he had gone numb with grief. Tears slipped slowly, silently and unwillingly down his face, Harry couldn't stop himself. He tried to hide his tears from Hermione, the tears he had been suppressing all summer.

"Harry, don't hide them, this is a natural reaction."

"Hermione, it was my fault…"

"No, Harry, don't you dare blame yourself for this…"

Harry couldn't suppress an audible gasp as Hermione took him in her arms.

Harry leaned into Hermione's' embrace and began to cry with a little less restraint. All the pain he had felt since Sirius' death was surging in his mind. He felt himself shudder, tears now falling freely. Hermione remained holding him, rubbing his back softly, feeling his chest rise and fall sharply as he wept. Hermione couldn't imagine what the past summer had been like for him, and absent-mindedly noted with worry that he had gotten slimmer. Harry suddenly came to himself and hastily drew away.

"Hermione, I've got to go."

"Go where?" she asked desperately.

But Harry was wiping his eyes and trying to make it look like he hadn't been crying. He turned away from her. He was still sitting near her on the bed, but now with his back to her, so she couldn't see his face.

"I don't want to come between you two." Said Harry suddenly; surprised he had voiced that thought aloud so freely.

"Harry, I want to help you. You can't get through this alone, you need someone to help you."

"I don't want anyone to help me! I don't deserve it! I killed Sirius, I shouldn't have taken that dream so seriously! And now he's dead, and I'm alone, and there's no-one to blame but me!" he yelled, now realising that he was standing, but feeling suddenly faint.

"Harry it wasn't your fault."

Hermione watched, shocked, as Harry passed out and fell suddenly to the ground, but was relieved when he regained consciousness after about a minute.

Harry awoke and found his head in Hermione's lap, Hermione was sitting under him, her fingers were playing with his hair, tucking it gently behind his ear, or otherwise softly entangling themselves in the thick hair on the back of his head. He looked up at her face, and was shocked to see her crying. Clearly she hadn't noticed he'd woken up. He met her eyes, and she immediately began to blubber.

"Harry, you can't expect to deal with this by yourself. You can't shut me out!"

"I'm sorry, Hermione."

"Just let me help you Harry, please."

Harry began to sit up, awkwardly, as he still felt a little woozy.

"Thanks Hermione, I needed that."

Hermione was hastily trying to compose herself; she obviously didn't like Harry to see her cry. Harry got up with a little help from Hermione as he was still swaying a little, but once he was on his feet he felt better. He turned to Hermione, and saw her splotchy, teary face. He gently wiped a tear from her left eye with his thumb, and then walked out of the room to find Ron...