I'm so sorry this fanfic is taking me so long to write each chapter. This is my first actual story, apart from writing 300 word chapters in a mini ff. So, please bear with me in this learning curve of mine and I hope I can take you on a wild, exciting ride

Harry had taken to sitting at the back of every class. It's best to be forgotten' he figured - and for the most part, he was forgotten. Sometimes he wondered if people could actually see him as he silently walked through the halls and slipped quietly into his seat in each class. Hermione would glance nervously at him sometimes, questions in her eyes, but Harry would turn away pretending to be fine or at night as they sat together in their common room, he would feign to be tired and turn in early. Hermione would look hopelessly at Ron then, and he would steer her attention off of Harry, good friend that he was.
One night as Harry lay in his new bed staring at the ceiling, he wondered what was causing such an odd feeling. What exactly was the feeling? Hopelessness? Not really. Sadness? Not quite. Defeat? Maybe a little…. Or maybe a lot. 'I can't be fixed,' He whispered to himself. 'Not even Dumbledore can fix me.' A tear slid slowly down his cheek. 'If he can't fix me then no one can.' He sat bolt upright, the magic building inside of him. 'No,' he cried loudly, scrambling out of his bed. 'I cannot do this again.' He ran to the window almost on instinct and threw open the curtains. The air invaded the room, seeming to wrap its cold fingers around Harry. A bird flew past his window and as Harry watched it, it flew a couple lazy circles, then flapped up to his eye level and hovered there, watching and chirping at him. The magic inside of Harry seemed to fall like water out his fingertips, silent and unseen, leaving him feeling like the shell of a wizard. Feeling empty and vulnerable, he crossed his arms on the windowsill and stared back at the little creacher as his senses began to finally feel the cold.
He stood there shivering in the night air, his emotions raw and open, when his bedroom door opened.
He glanced over his shoulder and saw Dumbledore step into his room, then turned back to the window, ashamed of the tears on his cheeks. He heard a sound behind him almost like... moving bricks?
He wiped his eyes and turned around to see Dumbledore pointing his wand at the wall opposite Harry's bed. Harry watched as the bricks reassembled themselves until he was staring at a fireplace in the center of the wall.
Dumbledore flicked his wand and a lively fire bloomed in the fireplace. He pocketed his wand and took a seat on the end of Harry's bed. 'A new addition is always nice,' he explained cheerfully as Harry continued to stare at him quizzically.
'Did you… need something?' Harry asked, taking a step away from the window.
'Just thought I'd drop in to see if you are okay.' Dumbledore said, rearranging his robes.
'Oh,' Harry said lamely. 'Did I wake you?'
'Oh no, dear boy,' Dumbledore smiled. 'I was already awake, working on my knitting. Isn't it curious what the muggles can come up with? Knitting! How creative!'
Harry continued to stare. 'Were you really serious? You're checking on me?'
Dumbledore nodded and patted the space beside him on the bed. 'Come sit,' he said. 'And tell me about it.'
Harry stepped over to the bed and sat down on the indicated place and bit his lip. 'It wasn't a nightmare,' he said slowly, his voice just above a whisper. 'What if there's no hope for me?'
'There's always hope,' Dumbledore said. 'Even when you think there isn't.'
'We tried to contain it a few days ago, but I nearly blew up your office.'
Dumbledore placed a hand on Harry's knee. 'Do you remember what I said that day before the lesson?'
Harry shook his head.
'It was a lot of …' he let his voice trail off.
'A lot of …' Harry repeated. 'Time and patience?'
Dumbledore nodded, smiling. 'It might take weeks. Or even months. The key is to be patient and keep practicing. One day it will work, you'll see.'
'But, what happened the other day when my magic did … that?' Harry questioned.
'You lost control,' Dumbledore patted Harry's knee sympathetically. 'It's to be expected the first couple times we try. But, the more you practice the better you will become.'
'I know,' Harry sighed. 'Practice makes perfect. But it's the road to being perfect that's the hard part.'
'Have you finished your homework for the week?' Dumbledore asked quietly.
Harry shook his head. 'No, not quite.'
'Do that tomorrow, then I'll give you another lesson. We'll take it slower this time. I think your magic was overwhelmed last time.'
Harry nodded and stood from his seat on the bed. 'What's our plan of action tomorrow?' He asked as he stepped over to the window.
Dumbledore sat for a moment, bony fingers drumming a rhythm on his own knee. 'I think I'll start from a different angle.' He said as Harry closed the curtain over the window.
'Occlumency.'
'Occlumency??' Harry repeated dumbly. 'Isn't that the art of-'
'Closing one's mind to the invasion and influence of a legilimens?' Dumbledore finished. 'Yes, Harry. I think it will help you immensely.'
The sun shone merrily into Harry's room the next morning, much to Harry's disgust. 'Gonna need a thicker curtain,' he grumbled as he pulled the covers firmly over his head. After what seemed like a few minutes, he heard a voice call, 'rise and shine, dear boy.' Harry threw the covers from his head and peered around with sleepy eyes. The sun was much higher in the sky than before, proving it had been longer than just a few minutes. He kicked his way out from under the covers, crawled from his bed and dug his toes into the soft, thick carpet as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes.
He blearily dressed himself in a sweater and dark trousers, then tried to flatten his hair with his hands. But, every time he'd take his hands away, his hair would spring up again, refusing to stay down. Sighing, he slipped his shoes on and stepped out of his room, glancing around Dumbledore's as he passed through. As he closed the door to Dumbledore's room behind him he spotted the headmaster at his desk.
'Good morning, sir,' he greeted, tucking a hand in his pocket.
'Harry!' Dumbledore smiled as he looked up from his work. 'Good morning! I hope you slept well after last night.' At Harry's shy nod he motioned toward a plate of steaming food on the end of his desk. 'Since you slept through breakfast I had Winky warm a plate up for you.'
Harry gratefully accepted the plate and finding himself a seat, began to dig in heartily. When he finished, his plate disappeared with a pop. He stood, rubbing his stomach. 'Ok,' he said. 'Now I'm going to go-' he started.
'Finish your homework?' Dumbledore finished for him. 'That's great!'
'Well, that's not what I was going to say…' Harry said.
Another desk appeared beside Dumbledore's with parchment, a quill and ink laid neatly on top. Dumbledore flicked his wand again and a stack of study books materialized beside the parchment. Dumbledore motioned toward the chair that was now in front of the desk. 'To work, please,' he said. Harry knew an order when he heard it, no matter how gentle it was presented.
He finally nodded and walked over to the chair and seated himself in it. He was immediately grateful for Dumbledore's taste. The chair had a straight back, but also had a couple cushions that Harry almost seemed to lose himself in. He turned his attention to the stack of books waiting for him on the desktop, plucked the top book off the stack and looked at it. Transfiguration. He let out his breath in a rush and opened the book to the correct page.
The students around him chattered and laughed together as they filed into the DADA classroom, they're voices seeming to carry and grow louder with each second. Harry walked in after them, his shoulders hunched, and selected a seat in the back. Ron slouched in the chair next to Harry's and Hermione sat on the other side of Harry, posture perfect, eyes focused on the front of the classroom. Harry drew out his DADA book and slapped it on his desk, causing Hermione to jump and direct a scowl at him. He smirked at her and opened his book as Umbridge stepped into the room. The class immediately quieted down and ducked their heads, pulling out books, parchment, and quills.
Harry began reading the chapter silently to himself as Umbridge began the lesson with her sickenly cheerful voice and was reminded once again of how her teaching was not about defense at all, but more about dark objects and the behaviors of certain dangerous species. Harry yawned widely and rested his head on his hand, eyes wandering away from his book. Hermione reached over and smacked his arm so hard he nearly jumped out of his chair. He trained an offended look on her and she motioned toward the front of the room, where Umbridge was waiting impatiently. He jerked upright and stared back at her. 'Yes, professor?' He asked.
Umbridge tsked and walked around the classroom toward Harry's desk. Every step she made in her pink heels echoed around the room in the growing silence. Harry swallowed and gripped the edge of his desk, forcing himself to keep eye contact. She stopped beside his desk. 'That will be ten points from Gryffindor for daydreaming in my class, Mr. Potter,' she said cheerfully. Harry could feel his blood begin to boil as she repeated the question slowly, tapping one of her pink nails on his desk as she talked. 'What is the correct response when you see a vampire bat?'
He stared at her blankly. She tsked again and a frown formed between her eyebrows. 'You didn't read the book did you, Mr. Potter?'
He shook his head, gritting his teeth.
'What a shame,' she shook her head feigning sadness. 'I'm afraid that I'll have to take ten more points from Gryffindor, Mr. Potter, for neglecting to finish your homework that was assigned.
He dug his fingernails into the underside of his desk and bit his tongue in order to keep himself from blowing up at her.
'And next time you will remember to read the assigned material,' Umbridge said as she turned and headed back to the front of the room.
He let himself relax a little as she walked away, silently congratulating himself for holding his tongue. Then she turned around and held his gaze.
'Has anyone else done the homework? Or has Mr. Potter led the perfect example of being the class troll?'
Hermione's hand shot into the air.
'Yes, Miss Granger?'
Hermione lowered her hand and took a deep breath. 'Leave it alone. It is more likely to feed off of another animal than a human, but if it is feeling threatened it will bite. The bite itself isn't particularly dangerous, but most bats carry various diseases that can be dangerous to humans.'
'That is correct!' Umbridge nearly squealed.
Harry slumped back in his seat and stared gloomily ahead of himself as the class continued.
'Harry has proof!' Harry snapped awake again and looked around at the voice. Hermione was sitting straight as a lamp post in her seat and glared daggers at Umbridge, jaw clamped shut. He could actually see a muscle jumping in her jaw, she was gritting her teeth so hard. Harry's attention travelled to the front of the classroom, where Umbridge stood looking as angry as Hermione. Her usual fake smile was gone, replaced by such a frown Harry was sure that the only place he'd ever seen it was on a toad. In fact she looked as though she'd flick out her tongue at any minute and gobble one of the students up. The way she was looking at Hermione, she was going first.
Harry had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from giggling. As it was, he couldn't keep back his shaking shoulders. Hermione turned her furious gaze toward him and when he looked again, so had Umbridge. He turned suddenly somber as he realized he was now the center of attention.
'Did you have something to say, Mr. Potter?' Umbridge asked.
'I'm sorry, professor,' Harry said. 'I just found your, well, your appearance kinda … funny.'
Her eyes narrowed. 'How so?' She asked, tone dangerous.
He licked his lips, mouth suddenly dry. 'Well, usually you look so jovial. Now, well, you … don't. I guess I just found the drastic change kinda humorous.'
Umbridge seemed to inflate with anger, her glare intensifying, nostrils flaring. 'Detention, Mr. Potter!' She exclaimed, pointing an accusing pink nail at him.
Harry nodded weakly, all humour of the situation completely diffused. 'Yes, Professor.'
Umbridge turned away, chest rising and falling rapidly. Harry stole a glance at Hermione. She was still glaring at him, but now with a furrowed brow. Harry bit his lip and pretended to read his book, but he could still feel her eyes boring into the side of his head. He suddenly wanted to hurl something at her. A breeze blew through the room, ruffling the pages of his book. He flipped back to the correct page as casually as he could, trying to control his anger. But, it continued to boil within him. The more he tried to put a lid on it, the more it bubbled over. Until finally he gave up. The book was ripped from his grasp and hurtled above his head where it met with the rest of the books in the class. As he watched, the burst into flame and flew toward the front of the classroom. Umbridge shrieked and ran, but the books flew past her and slammed against the wall behind her where they were pinned by conjured shards of glass. For a moment it was quiet, except for the crackling of flames as they ate away at the books. Then a thick dark liquid began gushing from the books and dripping down the wall, gathering in a puddle on the floor. The rest of the class jumped to its feet in one accord, and rushed for the door, students trying to push through the narrow frame all at once. Harry still sat at his desk, staring at the mess across the room while Ron and Hermione stared at him in equal shock. Hermione gathered here bearings first, much to his chagrin.
'What. Was. That??!' She snapped at him.
'She … pushed me too far,' Harry tried to explain lamely.
'She pushed you too far??' Hermione exclaimed. 'What do you mean by that, Harry? What aren't you sharing with us?'
'Well-' Harry took a deep breath and explained to her what Dumbledore had told him.
'So he just … beat the power right out of you?' Ron asked, finally coming back to his senses. 'How does that work?'
Harry swiveled in his chair to face Ron, then shrugged. 'He said that the power has been there my whole life. It was just buried. It needed a push, I guess?'
Hermione frowned. 'We should research it in the library after school.'
Harry turned to face her. 'I can't,' he said. 'Dumbledore wants to teach me Occlumency. He thinks it might help with controlling my magic.'
'Occlumency, Harry?' Hermione's eyes lit up. 'Oh, I'm so glad you have him to teach you! If anyone can help you, it's him.' She sat there, beaming. Harry looked back at her, unimpressed.
'What?' She said. 'Dumbledore is the strongest wizard in …' she gestured with her hands as she tried to rearrange her thoughts. 'He's stronger than You Know Who! Stronger than Grindelwald! He can help you, Harry!'
'But what if he can't?' Harry responded, hating the hint of a whine that resounded in his ears.
'But what if he can?' Ron said, stepping into Harry's field of vision.
Harry sighed, defeated. 'Then that would be awesome. But what if it causes more harm than good? I don't know anything about the mind. Isn't it fragile though? What if-'
Hermione held up both hands, causing Harry to stop abruptly. 'This is Dumbledore we're talking about, Harry. 'He knows what he's doing and he would not hurt you. You can trust him.'
She was right. Of course she was right. After all, they were referring to Dumbledore of all people. Why couldn't he trust him?
'Okay,' he said at last. 'I will try. And I do trust Dumbledore. I guess I just don't have enough trust in myself.'
Both of his friends beamed at him. 'It'll all work out,' Ron said. 'You'll see.'