The Awakening Power

Chapter 1: Solitary Thoughts

The Awakening Power

by Sib

Chapter 1: Solitary Thoughts

A/N: Harry sixth year, after OotP. H/G, R/Hr, PG-13 rating.

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Harry Potter was angry.

He was lying on his bed at the Dursleys', staring at the ceiling. He wasn't exactly certain why he was angry, but his mood was reflected by the dim shadows created by the gray sunlight seeping through his window. A summer storm had swept through the town, and was only now beginning to wane as the sun set.

Harry spent a lot of his time away from the Dursleys', aimlessly walking through the town, or sitting in the park reading his Defense Against the Dark Arts books. The latter had become an obsession to him, a distraction to the torments of thinking about the events of the previous year. At the beginning of summer, he had owled Professor Dumbledore and asked to borrow some N.E.W.T. level textbooks. The Professor had graciously sent him a variety of books.

He would sit for hours reviewing spells and planning lessons for his D.A. classes, which he intended to resume once the new school year started. He was certain Dumbledore would give permission for the D.A. to continue, and he wanted to be prepared.

He also wanted to prepare himself. The fact of the matter was that while he performed better in the battle last year than he had done in his fourth year, there was still a lot of luck involved. It was a miracle that no one else had been killed. That thought led inevitably to the one casualty of the battle: his godfather, Sirius.

Harry swung his legs over the bed, and got up, frustrated. He began pacing the room, trying to work off his excess energy.

He felt alternately numb and angry. At first, he simply couldn't believe Sirius was really gone. Having spent so little time with him, it almost seemed like he was away somewhere, as usual. Sirius represented a link to his parents, and now yet another link was severed just when Harry was getting used to the idea of having him in his life. He didn't open himself up easily, and it cut him very deeply for someone to leave him so suddenly.

Not only had he led everyone into a trap, but he also felt useless in the battle once he was there. He felt he should have been better prepared. I must learn more, he thought determinedly. The thought had sustained him through the summer, becoming a mantra for him. He knew he would never be the bookworm that Hermione was, and he would never have her breadth of knowledge. But he knew that in this one area, he could do well.

I have to do well, he thought desperately.

He had paced for several minutes when the loud voice of his uncle shouted up the stairs, "Boy! Up there! Cease that infernal noise!" The warnings of the Aurors at the end of last year had made the Dursleys much more tolerable, but not any more friendly.

Harry sighed, and threw himself into a chair at his desk. He guiltily looked over to the large stack of unanswered letters from Ron and Hermione. They appeared to be trying to make up for last year, as they made a supreme effort to tell him as much as possible about what was going on. The letters helped him to feel in contact with the wizard world, but it wasn't the same as being there.

He drew a sheet of parchment, intending to write a letter. His head was filled with thoughts, but nothing seemed to flow from his brain through his hand and onto the paper. He'd tried to write back, but his rare letters tended to be short and to the point. He simply didn't have much to write about, and, even if he had the words, he didn't want to talk about what he was feeling.