/AUTHOR NOTE/ Hm. This is a oneshot song-fic. It's to the song "Wake Me Up When September Ends." By Green Day. If you haven't heard it, which I highly doubt, you can hear it here: (Number 11 On the 'American Idiot' album.) I tried to experiment with Harry's emotions while writing this…not sure how I did…but it was fun. Oh yeah, and I don't own any of the characters of Harry Potter, or the song, or the band. If I did, I would be rich. And I'm not. Enjoy. -SG

Harry lay on his bed, staring at, yet not really seeing, the walls of the dark room around him. The covers were tangled around his ankles and he was curled up into a ball, his knees digging into his chest. He did not know how long he had been lying there, but however long it was, was long enough to make both his legs cramp painfully. But Harry did not move. Pain didn't bother him anymore. He had experienced so much of it lately, not only physical but mental, that he had become accustomed to it. Which is why he did not so much as flinch when he rolled over and banged his head hard against the window. He merely blinked and looked up, out the window.

Far off in the distance, something caught his eye. It was a black spot high up in the sky. Harry was mesmerized by it as it weaved in and out of the clouds, illuminated by the setting sun. He continued watching it as it came closer…and closer…and closer...and then he was able to make out two wings. A head. Talons. Harry's stomach lurched and his heart began pounding as the owl landed swiftly on his windowsill.

He eyed the dark eagle-owl warily as it pecked the window impatiently and shook its foot, which a letter was tied to. Although he had never seen the owl before, Harry threw caution to the wind and thrust open the window enough for the owl to stick its leg through. As he began untying the letter half-heartedly, he caught the dark brown owl staring longingly into the room. It was eyeing Hedwig's cage, which Harry had not cleaned since his leaving Hogwarts and now stank to high heaven.

As he dropped the letter on his bed and made to close the window, the owl tried to get into the room, but Harry snapped harshly, "NO!" and slammed the window shut. With a low hoot and one last look at Harry, the owl took off back into the night, leaving Harry to his misery.

Although he did not want to admit it, Harry was mildly curious about the letter. Could it possibly be from one of his friends…did they want to know how he was? Perhaps an invitation to stay at the Burrow for the remainder of the summer…? But Harry shook his head, not wanting to get his hopes up. Why would Ron, Hermione, or anyone else for that matter, want to invite him into their home, especially after the way he had acted at the end of last term? He had been so moody that even he couldn't believe it. He couldn't remember all that had happened, but he knew he had definitely gotten into a couple of shouting matches with Ron, and vividly recalled Hermione staring at him as tears of despair spilled from her eyes. It was a strange feeling for Harry, to be so angry and bitter to people that wanted to help him. He had wanted to stop, wanted to sit down and apologize to them, go to Hogsmeade and drink butter beers and go swimming in the lake, but every time he would catch one of their faces staring at him in that frightened way he would lose it again. They just didn't understand what he was going through. Not one bit.

As Harry turned the letter over, his heart sank right down to his toes. The Hogwarts seal. Of course. It was the usual list of school supplies that he would need for his coming year at Hogwarts, and a reminder to catch the Hogwarts Express form Platform 9 ¾ on September 1st. But Harry wasn't going back to Hogwarts…was he? He had to find the other 4 horcruxes…find Voldemort…kill him.

And…wait a second. Weren't these back-to-school supply letters supposed to come at the end of August? Harry didn't know the date, he hadn't known it for weeks. But surely it couldn't be past July…He sat up halfway in bed, looking around the room for…for what? A calendar? Harry hadn't seen a calendar since his first day back from school. He glanced downwards; at the letter in his hands. As much as he didn't want to, Harry was forced by curiosity to open the envelope.

His hand shook as he held up the letter and read the date in the top right hand corner: August 17. He blinked rapidly. Where had the time gone?

Summer has come and passed

As his eyes traveled farther down the paper, he saw the familiar letterhead:

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY Headmistress: Minerva McGonagall…Harry stopped reading as his breath caught in his throat. Of course. Dumbledore was no longer the headmaster. How could he be? Dumbledore was…gone.

The innocent can never last

Harry closed his eyes and fell backwards onto his bed, his head hitting the pillow with a soft poof.

Wake me up when September ends.

As Harry relaxed his mind and let his memories overcome him, he thought of the people in his life that he could no longer turn to for guidance in a situation like this. His dad. Sirius. Dumbledore.

Like my fathers come to pass

It seemed like just yesterday he had started Hogwarts, saved the Philosopher's Stone, with Ron and Hermione by his side. Was he really going into his last year?

Seven years has gone so fast

Wake me up when September ends.

Harry opened his eyes briefly and looked out the window. The trees were rustling in the late night breeze and a cold chill swept through his room as the wind picked up. There were a few looming thunder clouds in the distance that were barely catching the sun's last, blood-red rays.

Here comes the rain again

Falling from the stars.

Harry blinked rapidly. He would not allow himself to cry. He was stronger than this. But he could not contain his emotions. He flung himself off of the bed and stood in the middle of the room with his fists clenched. Breathing hard, he reached out and grasped the closest thing to him – a framed photo of his parents. And then with one more surge of anger, Harry threw the photo to the ground. The sound of breaking glass was calming to him, but as he glanced downwards and saw his mother's face torn in half by a piece of glass, he had a horrible sensation in his stomach. As he stared into his mother's green eyes, which were reflected by his, he felt something salty on the corner of his mouth. He slowly brought his hand to his face and realized that he was in fact crying. Why was he crying? Harry was not supposed to cry. He had to be tougher than this. If he wanted to defeat Voldemort, he couldn't have any weaknesses. None. And crying was most definitely a weakness. He tried to brush the tears away, but they kept coming.

Angry with himself, Harry made to get back in bed, but as he stepped forward his foot came down on something slippery and he was falling to the ground. Instinctively, he put his hands out to break his fall – and they landed on shards of glass scattered about the floor from the photo he had just smashed. Taking shallow breaths of air, Harry sat on the floor, leaning against the bed, and weakly held his hands up in front of his face. Both hands were cut in many places, and there were streams of blood running down both his palms. The sight only made Harry cry more. He pressed his bleeding hands to his face and cried, as red tears fell to the floor around him.

Drenched in my pain again

Becoming who we are.

The bleeding and the tears eventually subsided and after a while the only evidence of Harry's breakdown was the dried blood on his face and the cuts on his hands. Harry leaned his head back against his mattress and breathed deeply. He had gone from feeling heavy with emotions to very empty in the span of twenty minutes. His mind had become very sluggish, and all the thoughts that had been previously flitting around inside his head were gone.

As my memory rests

Besides feeling empty, though, he also felt extremely tired. The last time he had felt this tired was…the last time he had felt this tired, Dumbledore was alive. He was with him. They were together. They were on a mission against Voldemort. Dumbledore's last attempt to fulfill what he had been working at for so long: defeating Voldemort.

But never forgets what I lost

Wake me up when September ends.

But he didn't survive. Just like everything else in Harry's life. His parent's, his godfather, his mentor, his relationship with his friends, his relationship with Ginny… Harry squeezed his eyes tight shut as Ginny filled his mind. He could picture her fiery orange hair bouncing as she ran to hug him… the sparkle in her eyes as he took her hand in his…the way her body fit against his perfectly when he cuddled with her…the way her laughter rang out so beautifully for all the world to hear…

Ring out the bells again

Like we did when Spring began

Wake me up when September ends.

But Ginny was gone. Because of him. He had told her it was over because he hadn't want her to get hurt, but instead ended up hurting himself. But that's what life's all about, isn't it? Harry thought to himself. Self sacrifice. Trying to make others happy, even if it means making it hard for yourself. But Harry had made it hard for himself as well as his friends. Was that self sacrifice…or self destruction?

Summer has come and passed
The innocent can never last
wake me up when September ends.