Summary:




Sirius has died, and as Harry struggles with his guilt, new neighbors move in across the street. But this foreign family from the Middle East has a very beautiful daughter, and she's taken a liking to Harry. But just as Harry must hide his own true identity, so too are the secrets that run deep within the Darbinyan family... secrets of death, secrets of life, secrets that will unwittingly guide Harry to rebirth, and the ultimate discovery of how Voldemort must be defeated.


Chapter 1: Chapter 1 - A New Beginning

Harry Potter and the Burden of Becoming

Prologue


The golden candlelight flickered off the stone walls, walls built before the founding of Hogwarts, before the campaigns of Charlemagne, before the birth of Christ. These walls endured the battles of Pharaoh, and of Caesar, and saw the creation of magic in the earliest of days. The rhythmic chant of the sixteen, cloaked in black, resonated against the walls, which somehow knew what was to come.

A thin, toothless, smile creased her aged face, worn by years of waiting, but now... now the time, at last, had arrived. With the sacrifice set, she closed her eyes and nodded, and the sixteen thrust forth their daggers. She could taste the blood, and her smile broadened; the age of Pravus and Morgana had returned... a new age reborn... the age of Voldemort and...

"NO!" she screamed, sensing, too late, his presence.

Harry woke with a start, his sheets soaked with sweat, a mixture of the night's heat and the new nightmare. Her screams still ringing in his ears, he adjusted his pillow, flopped back down, and... smiled. For the first night all summer, he woke to a dream that had nothing to do about Sirius Black.


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Harry Potter and the Burden of Becoming

Chapter 1 - A New Beginning


The air was hot and humid as Harry lay on his back watching the clouds fly over Privet Drive. Droplets of sweat fell from his forehead making his hair wet. Under the shade of two large bushes he found himself again, as last year, outside the Dursley's open window hoping to hear some word of what was going on in the world, hoping to hear some sign that might give him a clue as to what Voldemort and his followers were up to.

He had received a few owls from Ron and Hermione, and one from Remus, each wishing him well, and reassuring him that all was quiet in the Wizarding world. Yet, Harry knew that Voldemort's greatest strength was stealth, an ability to move unseen and undetected. All might be quiet, but that didn't mean that nothing was happening. So he listened intently for the smallest of clues, the least story that was out of the ordinary, and in those moments during advert breaks, his mind mulled over the prophecy of his fate... a fate only known by Harry and Professor Dumbledore. One day, Harry and Voldemort would meet, and only one of them would survive.

The newscaster led the stories of the night with a five-car pile-up outside Bristol. A petrol tanker had caught fire and three people had died. "A drop in the bucket," thought Harry, "if he has his way." In a few minutes, the news turned to the weather. "Hot, hot and hotter!" chirped the weatherman. With this, Harry's mind wandered to the parchment Ron had sent him earlier that afternoon. He pulled it out of his pocket and read it again. It was the most newsworthy note he'd received all summer.

Harry,

Sorry to hear you're so miserable. I thought for sure you were going to be able to stay with us this summer, but things have taken a bit of a turn. Dad was appointed to direct the Ministry's efforts in the capture of You-Know-Who and his followers. Dumbledore says that the appointment has put our whole family on the Death Eater's hit list. We've had to leave the Burrow to live in the one place I don't think you'd want to come back to, at least not yet. It's not the same here as it was last Christmas, that's for sure. Mum says as soon as we get things straightened up you should come to stay. Be strong, Harry! It should only take a few weeks.

Be careful!

Ron


Harry knew, of course, it was his godfather's house, Sirius Black. They'd spent Christmas there last year. It was the happiest Harry had ever seen Sirius; the pleasant daydream swirled in Harry's mind, but then, as it always did, his mind shifted to the scene it had played all summer long. He saw himself yelling at Hermione, demanding that Sirius was in trouble. He saw himself lead his friends into danger. He saw Sirius coming to the rescue... Sirius battling Bellatrix... Sirius falling through the curtain. If Harry hadn't been so arrogant, his godfather would still be alive, and as much as everyone had tried to reassure him it wasn't, he knew it was his fault. He groaned just thinking about it again, the pain palpable in his heart. Had Sirius lived, Harry would be with him right now. The Ministry had cleared his name, and the Daily Prophet was declaring him a hero. Sirius Black, the closest thing Harry had to family, and he had led him to his death.