Author's note:

To wiam-s: I agree that they have the potential to be close, but that is after the initial hurdles have been overcome. She expects him to just join the Potters after he has been virtually ignored by his parents for years. The main reason he was accepting of Sirius instead of Rose is because Sirius wasn't trying to force him into a life he didn't want.

To Seros109: Dumbledore won't be up to any mind manipulation in this story. Additionally, Sirius genuinely saw a happy Harry when he was younger. There were no illusions or tricks at play. The explanation will be unveiled in the future. While your idea about it being a response to someone dying was interesting, I was planning on a more relationship based reason that will help him in his development of friendship and bonds.

To Joe-El: They have been in school for close to two months. There was a lot of escalation, but I skipped ahead because I wanted to pick up when Harry was more established at school. As for disciplinary action, that will be explained in the beginning of this chapter. Just to clarify, Harry knows Rose only got a concussion from the hit, so he isn't very worried. After all, what is a little brain damage between siblings?

To poly1: The Dumbledore guess is good, but I am planning on a different reason for this story. I like to see Dumbledore how I think he was originally intended, an old man with a lifetime of regrets and good intentions. The only way he ever messed with Harry is by accidentally saying that he had lost his magic as a baby. This means that Sirius saw a happy Harry in his childhood because that is how Harry genuinely was. Part of Harry's hidden backstory will involve the reason for this. Harry won't just become a part of the Potter family, but he will develop some ties to people like Sirius and Rose eventually. That being said, he already has his own family and is happy to live without the Potters.

--

Chapter 6: Talking and Trolls

(Sirius Black POV)

"What is this all about, Lily?" he asks as he sits in Dumbledore's office with the man himself and the agitated redhead. "We should be eating dinner, not meeting about whatever has got you riled up now. I need my food!"

"This is more important than food, Sirius," she scolds.

"I get that it is serious," he jokes reflexively until her glare shuts him up.

"It is about Harry," she says.

"Has something happened with the young Mr. Potter?" Dumbledore asks. "To my knowledge, he has been doing well ever since his most recent incident with Ms. Greengrass. Even then, I believe it was just how the children seem to be courting one another these days."

"This is not about his love life," Lily says as she is clearly trying to keep control of her temper. She takes a deep breath to calm herself before she continues. "This is about him hurting Rose. He gave her a concussion!"

He and Dumbledore exchange confused looks before they turn back to the redhead.

"Lily," he says.

"Mrs. Potter," Dumbledore joins in.

"It is just a concussion."

She looks at them in blatant confusion like she is struggling to understand what they mean. "Is this just a wizarding world thing?" she asks. "Do you both just not know what a concussion is?"

"Of course we know what a concussion is, Lily!" he exclaims. "It is where your brain hits your skull."

"That's bad!" she says slowly and loudly like she was talking to children. "Brain damage is serious! And I swear to God, I will kill you if you make that joke again."

"Lily," he says slowly and gently. "You seem to think brain damage is a lot more dangerous than it is. God, I can't remember how many time James and I gave each other concussions when we were messing around at Hogwarts."

"Some of my fondest memories with my brother, Aberforth, were when we fought," Dumbledore says wistfully. "We would always keep going until one of us was knocked out. Roughhousing is simply how siblings and friends show affection. Why, Ms. Greengrass is terrific friends with young Harry and has even set a new record for concussions given for a single trip to the infirmary. It was quite impressive. As for Rose, I would just take it as a good sign. If he is comfortable enough with her to give some minor brain damage, then that bodes well for reconciliation."

"But, brain damage," she says like she is still stuck on that point.

"It is just soft tissue," Dumbledore waves off. "I knew a man during the war against Grindelwald who had half of his brain destroyed by a curse. After some potions and a good night's sleep, he was right as rain! It would be another issue entirely if it was damage to her mind, but that is not a problem here."

"I am just going to ignore the idea that brain damage really is so trivial with magic," Lily mutters. "The other cause for concern is that Rose said he didn't even touch her. She just flew across the room and hit her head. She would have thought he used a spell, but he didn't have his wand out."

"Could he just be skilled with wandless magic?" he wonders. "It isn't the most common, but it wouldn't be out of the question."

"It wasn't wandless magic," Lily sighs tiredly. "I checked for spell residue on Rose. Whatever it was, it wasn't a spell, wandless or otherwise. I also talked with Rose herself. She didn't seem to think that he was doing anything consciously. It just seemed like he was angry and she got thrown."

"Uncontrolled magic?" Dumbledore muses. "That usually does not occur after a child enters their teenage years. I can speak with him myself. It might make him more comfortable to talk to a faculty member he is not related to."

"Neat!" he chimes in. "If that's all, there is some roast beef calling my name. See you both later."

With that final remark, he hops out of his chair and strolls out of the Headmaster's office. To be completely honest, he couldn't be happier to leave. It had been years since he was a student, but he still felt like he was in trouble whenever he was inside.

--

(Harry Potter POV)

I nurse a headache as Bella grins at me. "Can you not smile so loud?" I ask with a groan. "It is making my head hurt worse."

"How on Earth did you get injured this time?" she asks. "Steal a girl's underwear?"

"I have standards," I reply. "I hung a massive banner across the front of the castle saying 'Harry plus Daphne = Love' painted across it. She did not take kindly to it."

"How did I not see that?" she snickers. "Just checking, Daphne is not your girlfriend, right?"

"Nope," I say. "I just promised my actual girlfriend, Hailey, that I would find additional girls while at school. Since I actually like monogamy, I keep my efforts focused on Daphne. It's totally cool though. Daphne knows I am not actually trying to romance her. The only reason she beats me up is becuase I embarrass her in front of the whole school."

"A girl can get ideas if you keep trying to woo her, even if it is a joke," Bella nods sagely. "You should make sure she doesn't fall in love with you by accident."

With a smile like she had given some impressive wisdom, she triumphantly takes a drink of her tea. I wait for her to be almost ready to swallow when I reply.

"Yeah, I think her girlfriend, Tracey, might not agree," I say right as she begins to swallow.

Bella immediately reacts in surprise only to begin coughing as the tea tries to go down the wrong pipe. This leads to a coughing fit that carries on for the next minute and a half.

"You are such an asshole," she manages to say after it finally subsides.

"Yeah, Daphne tells me that all the time," I agree. "I think another reason she gets so pissed off is because I flirt with Tracey too. Tracey knows it is all in good fun and can't help teasing her girlfriend. Anything interesting happening with you?"

"Siri is getting on my nerves, but that is nothing new," she says with a sigh. "His antics cause some bad blood between me and the rest of my house. It defintely doesn't help when he and his friends keep picking on Snape. I don't really like the greasy git any more than they do, but they always take things too far."

"Sounds like a pain," I agree. "If you want to go that extreme, you should only do it on friends and family."

"I am glad someone understands me," Bella says with a sigh. "Sometimes I feel like you are my only friend, Harry."

I was about to respond when I see how she was looking at the floor and fiddling with the hem of her robes. Oh, this is Bella letting down her guard. She has never done this with me before. It was always the usual confident persona that she showed the rest of the world. I wonder how many people have ever seen her like this?

I just shift over and wrap my arm around her shoulders before pulling her in. She lets out a squeak in surprise as she finds herself leaning on me. Her eyes flicker up to me before dropping back down as her cheeks burn red.

"Sorry about doing this," I say. "It just seemed like you needed a hug."

Bella doesn't respond for a second until she wraps her arms around my chest and pulls me closer. She nuzzles her head in the crook of my neck and rests against me. "Thank you," she whispers as she clings to me.

I just rub her head with my free hand as I feel my grip on this place fading. The dream was ending and I was about to wake up back in my bed. Still, I hold her until it all goes dark for me. Even if this was just some kind of Force hallucination or memory imprint, I wanted to let her know that she wasn't alone as long as I was here.

All too soon, I bolt up in bed as the book falls to my lap from where it was resting on my chest. I was in my bedroom, not in the Slytherin common room with Bella. I don't know what it is about the diary, but the memories tied to it seem so vivid and real. Another odd quirk is that the events in the diary are prgressing faster than my own time at Hogwarts. That moment was close to Christmas break while it is still a few days before Halloween in real time.

With a heavy sigh, I can tell that I am not getting any more sleep tonight. At the very least, I can try to find that one weird bedroom that popped up in the hallway that one time. Part of me is curious to see if there is anything weird was left in there besides Bella's diary. If I wander around long enough, I should probably find it.

After half an hour, I have not found it.

I have somehow passed by the Ravenclaw dorm entrance, the Potions classroom, the Gryffindor dorm entrance, the Potions classroom again, the Great Hall, and the Potions classroom two more times.

I did not take a single stair.

How on Earth does this keep happening?! I walked down a straight corridor and I turn around only to see a deadend wall or a flight of stairs. What is going on?!

I eventually decide to take a breather in an empty classroom. I dump myself in a dusty seat and I close my eyes for a moment. Wait a second. There was a big object in the center of the room covered in a white sheet to keep the dust off. It was the only thing that stood out in the entire classroom.

Interest Activated!

With a yank, the cloth cover billows off with a cloud of dust that immediately makes me break out in coughing. I wave the dust away and my lungs eventually settle down.

The object turns out to be a mirror. It was set in an ornate stone frame and had an etched message above the glass. It looked like nonsense, but my brain nagged at me until I realized what was wrong with it. It was written in reverse like a mirror reflection. Ha, jokes on you mirror. A piece of glass and stone can't stand up to my genius level intellect.

"I show you not your face but your heart's desire," I whisper.

The mirror's surface seems to warp under my eyes until it starts to show me something other than my reflection. I was in a temple and older as I walked through its towering halls. Students and other Jedi waved as they passed by and I returned the greetings. Eventually, a series of people walk into frame and bring a smile to my reflection's face. There was Hailey, Carla, and Yoda, but other figures were there as well. Sirius, Draco, Daphne, and Tracey all had places as well. There was someone else, but their form was blurred and distorted. As I try and look closer, it was like the image actively fought against my attention and warped further to avoid identification. Despite this, I narrow my focus as my mind burns and the Force itself seemed to be warning me.

My attention was scattered when a hand lands on my shoulder and snaps me out of it. I blink for a moment and the mirror has reverted to a normal reflection of the old classroom. As I turn, I realize who surprised me.

"Mr. Dumbledore," I say. "I didn't expect to see you here this late at night."

"I always enjoy a good trip around the castle at this time of night," the old man says with a twinkle in his eyes. "It lets me feel like I have Hogwarts all to myself. So, I see you have found the Mirror of Erised."

"That's what it's called?" I ask. "It was not the best experience."

"There have been stories about men wasting away in front of the mirror as they find themselves entrapped by the visions it shows them," Dumbledore says. "Yet, I have never heard of someone getting a nosebleed after looking at it for a few minutes."

"Nosebleed?" I mutter in confusion before I reach to my nose and feel the skin beneath is wet. When I bring my hand up, I see that my fingers are coated in red. I take a moment to wipe up the excess blood with the sleeve of my robes and I make sure the blood has actually stopped. "I didn't realize that had happened."

"This mirror has a habit of trapping one's attention," Dumbledore remarks. "Many have fallen prey to it over the centuries."

"Why has not one destroyed it?" I ask. "It sounds like it might be better off broken."

"Most men do not have the heart to break it," he remarks. "Others see it as a test that should be allowed to exist. Legends say that if someone is truly happy with their life, then it will continue to show their genuine reflection. Also, it has quite the sturdy enchantments on it."

"What do you see?" I ask. "Sorry if that is too personal. If it is any consolation, I saw an older me making a cool magic temple and all of my friends were there."

"A fine desire," Dumbledore comments. "My own is quite boring in comparison. Everyone always gets me books for my birthdays and Christmas. My desire is to one day get some soft socks instead."

Some instinct that echoed through the Force guided my action in that moment. I reached out a hand and I placed it on Dumbledore's arm. With that connection established, I was able to channel his sight and see it for myself.

The mirror ripples before showing a Christmas morning around a tree. There were several wrapped presents under the pine needle laden branches and they waited patiently to be opened.

There were four people in the living room. Three of them were guys around eighteen while there was one girl who looked like she might have been twelve. The girl grabs one present and runs up to one of the boys.

"Here, Albus!" she calls out. "Open this one first! I made it for you while you were at Hogwarts!"

The boy, a young Dumbledore, opens the box and pulls out a pair of red woolen socks with poorly knitted white snoflakes on the sides. Only the sentiment was carried over since the symbols were almost unrecognizable.

"Do you like them?" the girl asks, her voice wavering with uncertainty as her hands clenched the hem of her shirt. "I tried really hard when I was knitting them. I know I am not as good as Mom, but I thought they turned out nice."

Despite the clear signs that they were made by a beginner, Albus' eyes light up with the twinkling that he would one day be famous for.

"Nice?" he asks in confusion. "These are incredible, Arianna! I have never seen a pair of socks that could equal them! Gellert, Aberforth! You both might as well just trash the rest of your presents because I know you aren't going to get anything as good as these."

"Oh, you lucky dog!" Gellert says. "I am going to need to put a pair of Arianna Dumbledore's awesome socks on my Christmas list for next year! I can't just let Albus be the only one wearing such neat socks!"

Aberforth just laughs as he lifts Arianna on his shoulders and spins her around. "Just when I think my little sister can't get any cooler, she goes and does it again," he says as she giggles.

The scene fades away as I let go of his arm. I glance at Dumbledore's face to see the wistful look in his eye. I wonder how long it has been since he was happy like that.

"We should probably get off to bed, Headmaster," I say. "We should probably keep those dreams for when we are asleep."

"Right you are, Mr. Potter," Dumbledore says as he turns away from the mirror. "Right you are."

With a flick of his wand, the cloth floats up before settling back down on the mirror and obscuring its surface from view once more.

"Before you go, I have an apology to make," Dumbledore says. "It was my fault you were separated from your family."

I freeze and feel my hand curl into a fist instinctively. I didn't know how I was supposed to react to such a blatant admission. "Why are you telling me this?" I ask.

"You have the right to know," he replies. "After all, you are the one that it hurt the most."

"What good does it do now besides easing your conscience?" I question.

"Nothing," Dumbledore admits. "I do not pretend that it will trigger some miracle in concerns to your own life. More than anything, I just wanted the opportunity to explain myself."

"Why did you do it then?" I ask. "If you want to talk so bad, then talk."

"I was the one who said that you had lost your magic," he explains. "After Voldemort attacked your family's home, I was one of the first people to arrive. Once I saw how your magic seemed to be virtually nonexistent, my only thought was that it was some effect of a twin bond. It was my guess that it cost you your magic while bolstering your brother enough to counter the Dark Lord. There have been records of such an occurence happening, even with fraternal twins like the two of you. In cases like that, the one who sacrificed their magic never recovers it. They are forever weakened magically, if they can even manage magic at all."

"You all act like magic is this all important thing," I say. "I have lived my entire life without magic. Almost the entire world can live without the stuff. I doubt magic has ever let wizards travel to the moon like science could."

"You are not wrong," Dumbledore admits. "This society of ours puts too great an emphasis on magical ability. It blinds them to the realization that there is a vast sea outside of our little pond. Yet, even those without magic have always longed for it. That is the fate that befalls almost every squib, a powerless child of magical parents. They cannot accept the piece that they feel is missing in them. Many become bitter and curse the world. Some turn to Dark Arts and try to obtain power of their own. A sad few cannot bear to live in a world where they see themselves as freaks and take their own lives. In my folly, I hoped to protect you from that."

"Kind of bullshit when I am standing here with magic," I scoff. "I guess you didn't check that carefully."

"You are not the first person I have hurt in my attempts to protect the 'Greater Good'," Dumbledore says with a rueful chuckle. As I watch, he seems to age a decade in an instant. "How many good men and women did I send on suicide missions against Voldemort because it would give us a better chance of succeeding? How many people died for me, thinking I was the savior who would rescue them before they perished? How many people cursed me in their final moments as they realized I was not a mythical hero, but a flawed human like the rest of us? What could I have done better?"

"You sound like this old man I know, Yoda," I say. "You remind me of him a lot to be honest. He always tried to do what was best for everyone, even if some people didn't agree or got hurt. It wasn't that he didn't care about them or their lives. It was just the fact that he was bound by the past and tried to keep the world spinning the only way he knew how. I think he had a lot of regrets, more than he ever told me at least. When everything fell apart for him, it broke his heart. He lost friends he had known for decades and people that he had trained himself. If he had a second chance, I think that he might have done things differently even if everything turned out okay in the end."

"He sounds like a kind fellow," Dumbledore says with a smile.

"No, he is a cranky old man with dreams of grandchildren and a habit of poking holes in condoms," I reply to Dumbledore's amusement. "He might be nice, but he has a mean streak too."

"If it is any consolation, you remind me of my little sister, Arianna," Dumbledore comments as he glances at the covered mirror. "She was one of the most honest souls I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. It didn't help that she could also be too blunt at times. I once saw her make a grown man cry without realizing that she was insulting him."

"She sounds like a riot," I chuckle.

"She was the light of our family," Dumbledore reminisces. "My brother and I adored her. If only we could have given her the life she deserved."

"What happened?" I ask.

"When she was eight, some of the neighborhood kids were picking on her," Dumbledore explains. "She always had a hard time keeping the wizarding world secret from muggles, so they saw her as the little witch girl. It was usually just name calling and other childish harassment, but that day they took it too far. They were pushing her around and she slipping on some loose gravel. Her head struck a rock and it damaged her brain."

"This wouldn't have been an issue under normal circumstances," he continues. "Wizards and witches are naturally more resilient than muggles, especially when it comes to our brains. You have firsthand experience with that fact from the injuries you receive from Ms. Greengrass. But Arianna, she wasn't so lucky. Her magic had always been more volatile than the average child. This meant it would react in odd ways, especially when she was in distress. In an attempt to heal the damage, it did an improper job of fixing the pathways in her brain. While her magic would have eventually settled and she would have become a powerful witch, her brain could no longer control her magic. We tried to take her to the hospital and have the issue fixed, but it had become ingrained in the structure of her brain. She could never attend Hogwarts and she would never be a witch."

"It is a sad story, but what does that have to do with me?" I ask.

"She didn't lose her magic," Dumbledore says. "She just lost her ability to control it. Whenever she got upset or distressed, her magic would violently react. Tables would be thrown against the walls. Windows would crack and shatter. The foundation of the house itself would buckle at times. My brother Aberforth had to drop out of Hogwarts to watch her full time before she passed away. Her magic would lash out in anger. That bears a similarity to the incident with your sister, does it not?"

"That was a mistake," I mutter. "She was hounding me for weeks. The only reason it happened is because she literally locked me in a room with her and wouldn't let me out."

"Family can be hardheaded at times," Dumbledore admits. "Nevertheless, you must still give them a chance."

"They left me alone for years," I growl. "Why should I give them a chance they never gave me?"

"You shouldn't blame children for sins of their parents," Dumbledore answers. "Can you truly say that she deserves your animosity? Is she not another innocent in this? You are the brother she never knew she had. To her, it doesn't make any sense why you wouldn't want to join the Potter family. Her wordly experience has not taught her enough to understand where you are coming from."

"So you want me to be happy go lucky with the Potters now?" I ask with distaste.

"Heavens no," Dumbledore says. "I just want you to give her a chance. It doesn't have to be anything grand. Just give her the chance to understand why you keep pushing her away. If you do her that one courtesy, I doubt she will keep pursuing you so zealously."

"Just once?" I question. "I guess I can stomach that much."

"That is all I ask," Dumbledore says. "You do not need to forgive them or ever be a part of their lives if you do not wish to. I simply advise you to allow yourself and them to move on from a version of you that does not exist. Also, I would please request you to not magically throw people in anger if you can manage it. You could not imagine how much your mother complained when it happened."

"No promises," I reply with a grin as I walk to leave the unused classroom before I stop. "Uh, Headmaster? Could you guide me back to the Slytherin common room? I don't like my chances of finding it."

The old man just chuckles. "Of course."

--

I hold a frozen steak up to my black eye in the hopes it helps with the throbbing pain.

"What the hell did you do this time?" Draco asks. "Did she curse you so that no healing magic would work?"

"No," I say. "Pomfrey said that she isn't going to heal me for minor stuff like this anymore. In her words, 'You break it, you heal it.' I think she was getting tired of healing me on a daily basis. As for Daphne, I made one joke about stealing her girlfriend all for myself. The next thing I know, I am laid out across the floor."

"Where did you even get that steak?" he inquires.

"House elves," I shrug.

Eventually, the Halloween feast meanders on until Professor Sinistra, our Astronomy teacher, bursts into the hall with a cut on her forehead pouring blood down her face and clutching an arm which is almost certainly broken.

"Troll!" she shouts. "A troll is in the dungeons!"

Everyone lost their collective minds and started freaking out while the professors tried to restore order. I wasn't really paying attention because of the stabbing pain that was tearing through my mind. It was overwhelming everything else as I struggled to not collapse from the sheer intensity of the feeling.

I could feel time itself seem to fracture. From this crack, two divergent timelines are formed, each one drastically different from the other. In one, I saw laughing, joy, and happiness. In the second, I saw death, pain, and loss. The one commonality between the two was Hermione Granger, a Gryffindor girl in my year. She was cute, smart, and kind of awkward. This meant she came across as a know it all when she tried to connect with others through school work. I hadn't really interacted with her much since I tended to hang out with my own friend group, but I had talked to her once or twice in the library. One strand had her and the other did not. Why would this all be focused on her?

My mind follows each of the paths back to the fissure seperating them in the flow of time. The only thing I can see about the point that caused the rift is a troll. Fuck, the troll!

I open my eyes as I feel people shaking me. I turn to see that it was Draco, Daphne, and Tracey looking at me with concern in their eyes. I was a little surprised about Daphne, but I knew she was still my friend. I doubt she has ever met anyone who cared enough about her to tease and taunt her on a daily basis like me.

"I need to go," I say as I push myself back from the table. "All of you, stay here."

"Whatever you need, we can help," Draco tries to say before I cut him off.

"Trust me," I say. "Let me do this. I just need you guys to be safe here."

Tracey tries to argue but Daphne stops her. "We will wait here then," the blond girl says before her gaze seems to soften the slightest touch. "Just come back here in one piece."

"What do you take me for, Greengrass?" I ask. "You should know how sturdy I am by now. After all, you love to have your wicked way with my body all the time."

"I take it back," she replies as her eyes become dead. "Please just die."

I just chuckle as I run out of the hall in a burst of speed. A few of the professors try to stop me, but I am already out before they realize I was even leaving.

As I run, I don't try and follow my own instincts. I just open myself to the Force and let it guide me. Each turn and staircase were steps on the path being laid out for me. I just needed to feel it. This eventually leads me to a girl's bathroom which I promptly rush into.

Hermione yelps as she jumps from the sound of the bathroom door slamming open. She was standing by the sinks and I rush over to check her for injuries. For all I know, she could have run away from the troll or something already.

"What are you doing?" Hermione squeaks as she slaps my hands away.

"Are you okay?" I ask. "No injuries? Have you seen a troll by any chance?"

"A troll?" she repeats. "Why on Earth would I see a troll in a school?"

I don't get the chance to respond because the Force warns me a second before it happens. I immediately grab Hermione and wrap my arms around her protectively as I turn away from the door. The wall explodes inward as something massive pushes inside of the bathroom. A chunk of stone slams into my ribs as I cover Hermione, definitely cracking one or two. If I wasn't strengthening my body with the Force, It would have probably caved in my chest instead. A normal person like Hermione would likely die. Still, we were thrown forward by the impact and slam into the far wall.

Hermione hit her head and was out like a light. Thankfully, it didn't seem too bad. This let me focus on the huge lumbering threat that had just appeared.

The troll was, for lack of a better word, disgusting. It was ten feet tall, covered in pond scum green skin, and was wearing only a soiled loincloth on its waist. The air around it reeked of sewage and rotting meat to the point I almost gagged. Its beady black eyes landed on me as it gripped its heavy wooden club.

I let my hand slowly move to my wand only to find it missing. I caught sight of it resting on the ground two feet to my side amongst the scattered debris. It must have slipped out of my pocket when I was hit by the stone.

As the troll steps forward and raises its club with a snarl, I can feel that I have only two paths right now. The first is that I can go for my wand and try to protect myself with magic. I had been reading ahead enough in the DADA textbook to learn the Shield Spell, Protego, but I had the feeling it would not be enough. No other spell I had would be up to snuff when it came to stopping a club that big with that much force behind it.

The second choice is to use the Force. I had to somehow tap into Force telekinesis when I have already learned that is a hopeless endeavor for me. No matter how hard I tried, no matter how at peace I became, it was always out of reach. However, I had the feeling that it was my only chance.

Every time I have ever managed to call on it, I was accidentally tapping into the Dark Side. Maybe that's why it was working. It's not that the Dark Side was giving me some power I was missing. The problem was probably coming from the Dark Side as well. There must be some blockage formed of pain and anger buried deep in my psyche. I couldn't face it. Maybe I didn't want to face it.

But now, I don't have a choice. My shit is putting an innocent girl in danger. I don't get the privilege of hiding from myself anymore. That time is over.

I reach deep into the clot of despair wedged deep in my soul. I push through the muck and darkness until I grasp a fragment of the power beneath. As I rip it out kicking and screaming, a flicker of something flashes through my mind.

I never want to see you again! I hate you!

I can barely hear the words, but they cut me deeper than I can understand. This must be what I was hiding from all of these years. With the faint memory comes a rush of hate that was bound up in the blockage. It burned hotter than anything I had ever felt. It made my anger at the Potters feel like a dying match in comparison.

The one thing was that it was all directed at me. I didn't hate someone else. I hated me.

I take this self loathing and I accept it. I don't hide from it anymore. I can't remember what I did to deserve it, but I take it all the same. As I purify myself in that small way, I feel the sliver of my power come to life. It was finally ready to do what I need.

I roar in defiance at the troll as I push with everything I have. The surge of Force meets the powerful blow of the club and stops it in its tracks. The beast growls and puts everything it has into the strike, but I match it for every ounce of power. The wood of the club itself begins to crack from the opposing forces straining it to the breaking point.

Even though I had nothing left to give, I manage to find some extra scrap of energy in my spirit. It might have been support from the Force. That is probably just wishful thinking though. All I know is that it gave me the strength to overcome the monster.

With a last push, I blast him back with a wave of the Force. It goes flying through the air before it crashes into the bathroom wall and its club follows close behind. It slams into the troll's head before crushing it deep into the stone of the wall.

My vision becomes blurry as the room starts spinning. I feel a wetness on my lip and brush it to see red on my hand.

"Heh, what is it with me and nosebleeds these day?" I chuckle before I collapse.

--

Author's note:

Bam! Another chapter completed! I am so awesome!

If any of you were wondering if the update was sped up in response to the reviews, then yes. I am entirely at the whim of my attention span and your positive reactions gave me all the fuel I needed to pump this bad boy out.

I hope this helped put to bed any theories about Dumbledore or anyone else playing mind games with Harry. His problems with the Force are all on his end.

As for Dumbledore, I hope I did a good job portraying him in my own way. It never felt quite right whenever writers just cast him as the evil manipulator. He always felt like someone just trying to do the right thing, but failing more times than they succeed.

Don't worry about more backstory and world building. I assure you it is coming soon. I just don't like to rush through it when I could use it for character development later.

Feel free to write me a review and let me know how I did. I am practically fueled by reviews, so don't be shy. I always make sure to take all reviews to heart and respond to any questions at the beginning of each chapter.

If you liked the story and want to keep up to date, favorite and follow to get notifications when new chapters are released.

If you are interested in my other work, you can find my stories through my profile.

A pleasure as always,

Titan900

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