Key:

"……" speech

…stuff…: thoughts or mental monologues

# Parseltongue or beast speech#

Stuff…written stuff

Show time!

"What A Hero Needs"

Chapter #2: Awaking

It was a stormy night. Lightning crackled in the dark sky and thunder rumbled. Rain poured down heavily and the ground was so muddy it looked like it would be impossible to walk through it. Animals, both magical and non-magical, hurried to find shelter from the rain. But it was not only the storm that caused the forest creatures to hide. There was something that stank of an evil so thick it could be felt in the air.

This evil feeling could be tracked to the only human structure in the vast wilderness of the forest. Said structure was a fortress built with stone so black it would be invisible in the darkness of the night had it not been for an odd reddish light that could be seen when lightning lit the sky. As one walked closer and closer to the fortress, one discovered that the reddish tint wasn't the stone's colour.

It was blood… crimson blood that had been splashed as decoration by someone who took sick pleasure in doing it.

The aforementioned 'someone' sat on a throne made of bones and skulls. His appearance was much like that of a demon. His pale skin looked unnaturally so, he was so thin it stretched tightly around his bones. Spidery fingers wrapped themselves around the throne's armrests. But none of these features was as terrifying as his eyes. His snake-like blood-red eyes shone with sick glee in the darkness. This creature, for he was so evil he simply could not be called a man, was Tom Marvolo Riddle a. k. a. Lord Voldemort, self-proclaimed Dark Lord.

Around him, his most trusted Death Eaters waited. This included the Lestranges, Nott Senior, Crabbe and Goyle senior, and Rosewood. The rest were in Askaban Prison. A short balding man was at his feet, shaking and panting in pain. Voldemort laughed as he finished his servant's punishment. Wormtail trembled in fear, that high-pitched laugh was so cold it caused even the bravest men to flee for their lives. The Dark Lord had been in such a rage at his Death Eaters' failure at the Department of Mysteries he had tortured every single one of them for over a week. But it suddenly stopped, which could only mean something…It meant he was planning something. Seeing as not even his Inner Circle knew what it was that he was planning, it was something big, really big. After two weeks of silence, he was now celebrating by torturing his servants once again.

"My faithful followers, for a long time I've been planning on our next move," he said with a smirk, "I have been experimenting with the most… entertaining forms of magic"- here all the Death Eaters laughed, 'entertaining' really meant 'painful, dark and illegal' "- It seems that our little boy-who-lived has no protection left at his hiding place." Everyone's ears perked up at this.

"Yes, my dear friends, I have found a way to take care of Harry Potter right under that Muggle-loving fool…" At this, cheers rose, Harry Potter, the thorn at their Lord's side, was going down for once and forever… and the Order would only be able to watch as their hero died at their Lord's hand…

Harry woke with a start, his clothes sticking to his trembling body, wet in cold sweat. His scar throbbed with dull pain and he was gasping for breath. This dream had not been like the dreams he had had before, it had felt so real… almost too real to be a dream. I knew that four dreamless nights were too good to be true. He turned to his bedside table. The alarm clock he had repaired read four o'clock in the morning. He sighed, he knew there was no way he would be able to go back to sleep so he switched the light on and sat up on his bed. At least he had his books to entertain himself. After a week of sleeping less than four hours a day, Harry had gotten so bored he decided to do his homework and finished it in record time.

Harry crouched and pushed his secret compartment underneath the loose planks, (where he kept his wand, invisibility cloak, album…) picked up the book and began to read as he remembered the day he had found it…

Flashback:

Harry had been sitting around ('wallowing in self pity' as he later told his friends) his small room when it happened. After having finished his summer homework in three nights and a half (which just had to be a record), he was bored, bored and restless. Not a good combination when you are locked up in a room for all summer. It was not a good combination at all.

Finally, Harry couldn't stand it anymore and kicked his trunk (which he had sworn not to touch ever again) open. He just hadn't been able bear to even see the pieces of the accursed shattered mirror Sirius had given him. But desperate times call for desperate measures and he had had enough of this restlessness, so he opened his trunk and proceeded to grab every book he had in there.

Then he saw it. It was a thick handsome looking leather-bound book with no title. It was an almost golden-brown colour with strange patterns engraved in gold across the cover and it looked really old. It even looked ancient. 'In fact' he had thought, 'it feels ancient'. Curious as to how that strange book had ended up among his schoolbooks, Harry opened the book and began reading. It turned out to be about the subject Harry now realized he needed the most to keep going. It was about Occlumency…

As he read the first chapter of the mysterious tome, Harry found some information that changed his whole perspective towards the trip to the Department of Mysteries and his beloved godfather's death. It read:

'Occlumency is the art of hiding one's true thoughts and feelings behind a 'wall' or 'barrier' in order to keep secrets, emotions, knowledge and memories safe from intruders, such as Mind-Readers, Empaths and Legimens.

Before you keep reading, dear reader, I must warn you that very, VERY few wizards have a mind strong enough to survive a mental attack from an experienced Legimens, least of all a mental possession, unscathed. In fact, many have ended up insane or dead. As such, I have placed a very powerful spell on the contents of this book so that ONLY those with the strength of mind required to master this art will be able to read it.

This means that seeing as you are able to read this book with no problems you are most probably going to be able to become a Master Occlumens. As such, there is nothing else left for me to say except that I wish you the best of luck in your mastering.'

After reading some more, Harry growled. "It seems that certain overgrown-greasy-haired-hooked-nosed-sniveling-good-for-nothing-git of a Potions Master didn't teach me anything regarding the subject… anything at all. In fact, the only thing he did was weakening me even more!"

By the end of his rant, Harry was fuming. He vowed to himself that he would stand no more of whatever Snape threw at him this coming year. If he wants me to act as an arrogant git like James Potter, he'll get what he wants… multiplied by ten.

An evil looking smile crossed Harry's features as his eyes started shining mischievously. This year was could turn out to be quite interesting.

"…And the Marauders shall wreck havoc once again…

Watch out Hogwarts, here I come!"

End of flashback

That had been two weeks ago. Since then, Harry had decided to practice the techniques that helped him master Occlumency twice everyday for one hour. One of these techniques was meditation.

'Meditation is a way to focus one's mind; it can also help in dealing with deep stress. To reach the meditative 'deep phase', you relax you body by sitting in a comfortable position and concentrating solely on your breathing or heartbeat. One must learn how to reach this last phase almost immediately before trying to force their selves to build any kind of barriers or walls around their mind…'

After many attempts, Harry found that he could reach the stage where he was aware of everything around him. The sound of birds singing outside, the feel of the gentle wind that came through his open window and the smell of his aunt's cooking. He swore he had once been able to feel the presence of one of his 'babysitters' as they shuffled their feet and tripped. It had probably been Tonks. He also found that with each re-reading of any of his books while in this stage, he understood the theory behind every spell, hex, charm, and jinx he had ever studied at school in a way he had never done before. He even understood those which he had always had trouble with even in his fifth year. He was sure he could perform every one of them perfectly but he didn't want to risk going through another trial.

He noticed he had become more careful, not to the point of being paranoid but he was always on his guard. My Slytherin side is coming out… Maybe it's not so bad after all.

Harry had been having a strange feeling since his godfather's so-called 'memorial'. He felt like something deep inside him had snapped, though he hadn't cared about it at first, since he had thought that it had been his anger at Dumbledore for having kept him in the dark. But now, Harry noticed, it felt more like a barrier he had never known was there had suddenly been broken. He frowned thoughtfully. Maybe, just maybe…

Harry closed his eyes and tried to reach his magical core while in meditative state. According to the book, once he reached the 'deep' phase, he had to do it just as what he sensed was the right way to do it. He wanted to know what the thing that had snapped inside him that day was, so he followed his instincts. He looked deep inside himself and once he found himself floating in the familiar black void, he set to finding his core.

What he saw left him speechless.

There, deep within what he believed was his core, was a blindingly white light that appeared to be flowing out of a sickly green sphere that had previously contained it. Harry instinctively knew that the sickly green sphere was the Killing Curse he had survived so many years ago. As he approached, he felt the white light, his own magic, react to his presence and float gently towards him.

As the light bathed him in warmth, Harry felt complete. In fact, he felt as if something that was missing had finally been returned to him.

He opened his eyes and smiled, really smiled for the first time in quite a long time. I think I now know why I had such a hard time at school with some of the basic charms and spells. The Killing Curse must have blocked me from reaching my true potential…But now I feel restless… I should find an activity other than studying for the rest of the summer…Hmmm...Maybe I should try to talk with my uncle…. He snorted mirthlessly… That is, if I can say anything before he starts his sadistic games with me. I think Aunt Petunia might be a better choice…'

As he planned, Harry realized he had finally pulled himself together and that neither Cedric's nor Sirius's deaths nor the prophesy hurt as much as they did all of a sudden. It was as if he were starting to learn how to cope with his burdens, and he felt a bit proud at the fact that he had done it without anyone's help. Well, except, maybe the book, but it wasn't as if it was a living being, was it? Harry chuckled as he stood. The sun had come up, it was a new day and he had some letters to read and reply to. He sighed. This was not going to be easy, being stuck in the middle of the impending war, but he had to start somewhere and see how things turned out from there.

Little did he know that, just as he set to work, a group of black-hooded figured had begun to appear in his relative's front lawn. Neither did he know that his whole life was about to twist and turn up-side down.

A/N: I know this chapter is short but I hope you people like it. PLEASE REVIEW!