Hello everyone! This is my first fanfiction. I hope you like it and please do leave your comments or reviews. I would really like to hear your thoughts on my story. Happy reading!

When a Lion Cries, A Harry Potter Fanfiction

"AVADA KEDAVRA," uttered Severus Snape, and a flash of green light appeared right before Harry Potter's eyes. In the blink of an eye, Hogwarts headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, fell from the top of the Astronomy Tower. Harry couldn't do anything but watch, as his beloved professor took his final breath.

"Harry? Harry?", those words suddenly brought him back to reality. Quickly opening his eyes, he realized he was too much lost in thought. He was in the Gryffindor common room, not in the Astronomy Tower, how stupid of me, he thought.

"Harry, are you alright? You've been closing your eyes for too long, we thought you must've fallen asleep!" He looked beside him and realized that it was Hermione Granger's voice that woke him. Looking around, he saw the look of worry on everyone's faces, Ron Weasley, Ginny Weasley, the infamous Weasley twins, and Neville Longbottom. They all sat there worried about him, after all, they knew he was there during the headmaster's final moments.

"I'm fine, Hermione. Just thinking."

"Are you sure, mate? You've been too quiet, for Merlin's sake," Ron said.

"No, seriously-

"Harry, if you need to talk-

"I said, I'm fine, Hermione!"

They all jumped at his sudden outburst, but he didn't care.

"I just need some air." He stood up and left the room. He walked as fast as he could, away from the common room. He was having none of it, he didn't need their sympathy. There was nothing to be sympathetic for. Dumbledore's death was his fault. His and only his. If only he had stopped that slimy git Snape from casting the spell, maybe Dumbledore would be making his farewell speech to all the students in the end of year feast right now. The school wouldn't be deadly silent.

He just needed to be someplace where he could feel Dumbledore's presence, he couldn't bear this silence. As he was walking, a blonde girl with rather bizarre clothing, skipping along the halls, approached him. It was Luna Lovegood. Of course it was Luna.

"Hello Harry! Where are you headed?"

"Hello, Luna. Just taking a walk."

"Would you like me to come with you?"

"Oh, no thank you. I'm quite fine on my own."

"Okay, now if you don't mind, I need to find my possessions. I believe I have already told you that people usually hide them around Hogwarts. Have a nice walk!"

And with that, she continued skipping merrily around the school. He wanted to offer some help, but for some reason, he couldn't bring himself to. Not right now, anyways. He started walking again, then running. Running because he was desperate to feel him. Some part of him. At last, he reached the gargoyles, "lemon drop," he said. And they instantly sprung apart to let him in.

He entered the room where he would always find his headmaster, in his office. The room was now silent, even Fawkes, Dumbledore's phoenix, has departed the office. Harry slowly walked around the room and caught sight of his headmaster, asleep in a portrait above his desk. He felt his eyes sting and rapidly blinked back tears threatening to form. He looked around the office, seeing the Sorting Hat that once considered putting him into Slytherin. The house that created Severus Snape, and Draco Malfoy, who would've been the one who killed Dumbledore had it not been for Snape. He saw Dumbledore's wand, sitting, unused, on his desk. Picking it up cautiously, he felt it with his hands, and felt a surge of anger towards Snape.

"Beautiful wand, isn't it, Mr. Potter?"

He jumped in surprise and almost dropped the wand. His Head of House, Professor McGonagall was standing there. When did she come in? How long was she watching? He put the wand back slowly and took one last look on it. It was embarrassing to see him in Dumbledore's office, let alone holding his wand.

"I must say, Albus looks rather peaceful in that portrait up there."

All Harry could do was nod. He wanted to go back to the common room and leave McGonagall in his office by herself now. He didn't need another sympathetic face. He walked rather quickly to the door, but,

"I believe we need to talk, Mr. Potter."

Oh for heaven's sake! The last thing he needed was for one of his professors to have a chat with him. Why can't people just leave him alone?

"Professor, if you don't mind, I would rather just head back to the common room."

"I am your Head of House, Potter. Do not disobey me. Come with me to my office. I insist that we have a little chat"

He couldn't disobey her, of course. So they walked out of the office and along the silent halls. The silence was quite awkward, as he was alone walking with his Head of House to her office. Thankfully, there was no one there to see them. At last, they had reached her office. She said the password, and they entered. McGonagall motioned for him to sit on the chair in front of her desk, as she sits behind her desk.

She blames me for his death, he thought. She's going to reprimand me and send me somewhere I belong, like Azkaban.

"Potter, first of all, I would like to start by saying that Albus' death was not in any way your fault. No one blames you, especially not me."

"But you should, Professor! If only I intervened, then maybe, maybe… he'd still be here."

Tears started forming in his eyes, but he instantly blinked them away.

"You couldn't do anything. If you had intervened, you might have been the one who was killed. Albus wouldn't like that, and especially those two friends of yours, Granger and Weasley."

He couldn't say anything. If she was making him feel better, it surely wasn't working. He would rather be the one killed than Dumbledore. He can't take people dying for his sake anymore. He was tired of it. Sick of it, even. He just turned to staring at his shoes.

"A lot of people care for you, you know. Miss Granger has reported that you've barely been eating or talking since his funeral 3 days ago."

Harry stayed silent. How could they care for me? He wanted to yell at her. Make her understand that it was his fault he died. His fault.

"Albus certainly would not enjoy seeing you in this state."

"Please, professor. I'm fine. There's nothing wrong."

"Oh, there's a lot of wrong! Potter, I cannot have you bottling up all your emotions and turn into some miserable psychopath who doesn't know what to do with his life. Talk to me, Harry."

"It all happened so fast." When had the words started? Now that he begun, he couldn't stop. He looked up to see McGonagall's face. It was not sympathy, but rather, pleading. As if she was asking him to talk about it.

"Dumbledore asked me to stay quiet. Malfoy was there, I think he was supposed to kill Dumbledore."

McGonagall let out a small gasp.

"Then Snape came. Dumbledore pleaded with him. Then Snape cast the spell, and…" Tears started to form in his eyes, he looked down. McGonagall should not see him cry. He didn't deserve to, after all.

"Then he fell from the Astronomy Tower." He choked on the last word. I can't cry, he thought. "I couldn't do anything, I just stood there and watched Snape and Malfoy and the Death Eaters leaving, I just… stood there. I didn't do anything."

Harry closed his eyes and a lone tear fell down his cheek. He quickly wiped it away, embarrassed. He took a deep, shaky breath. He couldn't look at McGonagall.

"It's ok to cry, Harry. It isn't a weakness, it never was. It only shows how much you cared for him. How much you loved him."

At the Dursleys, he was never allowed to cry. It was a weakness, showing one's emotions. Especially crying. And in front of his professor. McGonagall stood up and moved to the chair beside Harry, she sat and told him, "It was not your fault, do you hear me? You couldn't do anything to stop it."

Harry took another deep breath but instead, it came out as a sob. He started crying quietly, staring at the floor, letting his tears fall freely. At this, McGonagall hugged him, letting him cry on her shoulder, and rubbing soothing circles on his back. He now cried as hard as he could. Not caring the stream of tears down his face anymore.

"Oh, dear child," McGonagall muttered. It broke her heart to see the boy break down in tears. He wasn't one to cry or even, show any emotion. But after all, the boy had lost so much in his life and deserved to let it out. Seeing someone you love die right before your eyes would be too much for Minerva. Let alone for a 16-year-old boy!

"Let it out, Harry, very good, let it out, it's alright." She was glad that he did cry, because once she even stressed why he wasn't crying after all that he's been through. They stayed like that for a few minutes then Harry's sobs turned into quiet crying. McGonagall let go of Harry and looked into his face, still with very few quiet tears streaming down it.

"Better?" Harry took a deep breath, nodded, and forced a smile.

"Thanks, professor."

"No need to thank me, Harry. I daresay you aren't the first one who has soaked my clothes wet." She laughed a little at her own sentence. McGonagall conjured a handkerchief and wiped the boy's tear-stained face.

"Now, I think you must go back to the common room. Your friends will be looking for you soon."

Harry smiled at her and McGonagall walked him to the door. She didn't close it for a while, she watched the boy walk away. She was glad that Harry finally let his feelings out. He needed to, after all, she couldn't just let the boy keep it all in.

"Mission accomplished," she whispered. Albus would be proud, she thought.

I hope you liked this story! Would appreciate the feedback as well.