Notes: Yes, Bellatrix Lestrange. I need to get a bad guy (or in this case girl) from somewhere.

Would Harry be Harry if he weren't extremely angst all of the time?

I've been asked by several people (on here and elsewhere) to tell them what happened between my last story and this one. Sorry but you'll have to wait. If it's important it'll be in the story.

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At the end of a road named Godric's Hollow is a small hill, and on this hill is a graveyard. Somewhere near the top of the hill are two graves with an open space nearby. One says James Potter; the other Lily Potter.

Harry sometimes went there when he wanted to be alone. No one really knew it was there (at least no one that liked to visit often). He never told anyone where he was going when he went there, not even Ginny.

The open space nearby he had already reserved for himself.

Harry lied there, looking up at the clouds. He hoped that, maybe, if he closed his eyes, he would wake up and anything he had read in the Prophet would no longer exist. But he knew that would never happen.

Everything had been going the wrong way recently. He had been having problems with school. Ron and Hermione were too into each other to notice him much. 'Mark' had diverted much of Mandi's attention for the last few weeks. Ginny would much rather be with her friends than with him. And now, Bellatrix just had to stick herself in as well.

Honestly, he wasn't very worried about her or any other Death Eater. The article had just surprised him, that's all. They couldn't do much to him. What was the worst they could do? Kill him? I'd probably be happier dead, he thought. No, the worst would be if they took Ginny. But then he'd go get her back. If they killed her, death would definitely be happier for him. Either way I end up dead.

Well, it's really not that bad, he told himself. It's been worse. And it'll get better. It always does.

He had been there for hours. If the people on the street below could see him, they probably thought he was a body they forgot to burry, or someone who really liked dead people. They weren't of any concern to him. He didn't even know who they were.

He felt something wet hit his face. It was starting to rain. Harry figured he should get up – someone might be wondering where he went. He was a bit muddy from the already moist ground, but by the time he reached the bottom of the hill all the mud had been washed off of him.

He popped to the end of Grimmauld Place and walked slowly toward the old house. The violent rain slammed into him, and the wind knocked him over various times, but he kept at his slow pace. By the time he entered the invisible house he was completely drenched.

"Hello?" he heard. Ginny came around the corner. "Harry! You're soaked! Where have you been? You didn't even tell me you were leaving."

"Now you know how it feels," he grumbled moodily, and went upstairs. He peeled the wet clothes off of himself and left them in the bathroom. Then he went into his room and put on dry clothes.

"Are you okay?" Ginny asked, coming into the room.

"Spectacular."

"Well, I made dinner, if you're interested in eating it."

"Sorry, I'm not very hungry." He grabbed a key off of his dresser and pushed past her.

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The highest room in the house, other than the attic, was always locked. No one could get in there without the key and the password. Harry slipped the key into the door and said the word, then went quietly into the room.

This was the most important part of the entire house. Inside was everything that Harry thought valuable (except Ginny). Everything that Dumbledore had left to him and some things of Sirius' that he had found around the house took up most of the space. There were shelves full of memories in bottles and a large pensive in one corner. On a shelf above the fireplace was a sword with the name Godric Gryffindor in it. Scattered throughout the space were various items that used to be horcruxes. And, in the far corner, was a very large mirror covered up with an old sheet.

Harry dropped to the floor and stretched out; listening to the rain hit the roof. He didn't know why he felt so depressed. He hadn't felt like that in a long time, not since…

Harry sighed. He could hear Ginny rustling around below him. He thought about how selfish he had been recently, especially toward Ginny. She deserves some time to herself, he told himself. She stuck by you through the whole Voldemort thing, and she took care of you when you were sick. And how have you repaid her?

I should apologize to her, he thought. He pushed himself off the floor. Then he caught sight of himself in a mirror on a table.

Harry stared at himself, not believing that he was seeing the same person. You really do look like a homeless person, he thought. His clothes were dirty. He hadn't shaved in forever (and looked like he hadn't bathed in forever either). Well, if you're going to say anything to Ginny, you'd better clean yourself up first.

After doing that, he found Ginny curled up in an arm chair, reading the paper. He sat down across from her. "Ginny?"

"Hmm?"

"How long have I been like this?"

"Like what?"

"You know what I'm talking about."

"I don't know how long. I haven't been keeping track."

Harry leaned forward and put his head in his hands. Ginny got up and sat next to him, putting her hand on his shoulder. "I don't know what's been wrong with me," he mumbled into his hands.

"Obviously you're depressed about something. I didn't know what was in the paper would upset you so much."

"That's not it. I knew there'd always be someone trying to kill me. I –" he sighed.

"Yes?"

"The reason I wanted to kill Voldemort was to get him back for all the people he's killed. Like I was revenging them… But Bellatrix is something different. As far as I'm concerned, she killed Sirius. And seeing her still going about killing other people is like… I don't know. I feel like… like…" he sighed again, "like I let him down."

"Don't be so hard on yourself," she said, rubbing his shoulder. "You could still kill her. She's not immortal."

"True. It just bothers me, is all."

"Don't let it bother you."

"I try not to. But everything is so frustrating."

"How?"

"I got used to the fact that I wasn't going to live long enough to have a future, so I gave up whatever I thought I could have. So now that I do have a future, I don't know what to do with it. I don't even want to be an auror anymore. I'm tired of chasing bad guys around and being the hero. So now what do I do? I don't know what I'm good at anymore, except killing people that make me mad."

"No wonder you're so depressed, if you keep telling yourself these things. I'll tell you what you're good at." She thought for a second. "Well, you're good at catching death eaters, but you already said that. And… you're good at magic."

"It's the same thing, Ginny."

"And you're good at being sarcastic and angry."

"Which isn't going to help me in any job market."

"And… you're good at quidditch."

"Which I can't play anymore. You see? No matter where I go I end up with something I can't use."

"Why can't you play quidditch anymore?"

"My knee. Plus I'd probably pass out if I went to fast. I can't even walk up stairs properly anymore."

"You don't need your legs to play quidditch."

"If I want to land I do. Unless I'm just going to fall off."

Ginny sighed. "Well it looks like you're screwed," she said sarcastically.

"I could have told you that ten minutes ago."

"I know what you need. Something to make you happy… hmmm… I know." She got up and went into the kitchen. He heard her rattle some things around, then she returned with a plate full of brownies. "These always make me feel better." She handed one to him. "Come on, eat it."

She picked one up for herself, while Harry just stared at the one in his hand. Then she took hers and shoved it into his face. Harry jumped back, the left side of his glasses smeared with chocolate. She laughed. He threw his brownie in her hair. A brownie war began, in which no piece of chocolate was left in one piece.