The Awakening Power

Epilogue

The Awakening Power

by Sib

Epilogue

Harry walked around his room at the Dursleys, feeling an overwhelming sense of joy at finally being able to leave. It was a week before his birthday, and he was due to be picked up by the Weasleys in about an hour.

Dumbledore had said this was to be the last time he was to stay at the Dursleys, and he fully planned on holding him to his word. Harry was about to turn seventeen, an adult in the wizarding world, and he didn't care what type of protection he got from being in the Dursley's house. Whatever it was, it wasn't worth it, and he was never coming back. He was packing to leave forever.

Not that there's much to pack, he thought musingly. Harry had surprisingly few possessions from living there for sixteen years, as though he had only been a weekend hotel guest. And maybe that wasn't far from the truth.

He picked up a picture of himself, Ron and Hermione, taken in his third year. It was one of his favorites; it never failed to make him laugh. Ron and Hermione wore angry expressions as they exchanged some words, and then would suddenly turn away from each other huffily. Harry in the picture would roll his eyes occasionally at the two of them, as they continued their eternal argument. But every so often, if you watched the picture long enough, Ron and Hermione would give each other a glance and smile shyly at each other.

Harry gently placed the picture into his trunk, and began packing his other pictures as well.

It had been an odd summer, somehow. Harry had been released from St. Mungo's two weeks before the end of term, just in time for his final exams. All the extra time in bed had actually paid off, academically speaking. He hadn't had much to do, so had been concentrating on his schoolwork.

Riding the Hogwarts Express back to King's Cross, he had felt a lot different about things. Finally meeting Voldemort and facing him wizard-to-wizard had put his life into a strange perspective. Suddenly, Voldemort wasn't a mysterious force out in the ozone; he was a man, just like him. A very powerful man, a man who had made radical changes to himself, an evil man, but still a man.

The feelings carried into the summer... a sense that he was part of an elaborate dance; one of two central performers surrounded by many other players, and the end of the dance was approaching. Harry didn't know how the dance was to conclude, only that a conclusion was inevitably coming soon.

The Dursleys had been their usual snide selves picking him up. In past years, he was angry, fearful, lonely... a host of emotions. This year, he simply felt muted, resigned to the fact that it had to be done. Uncle Vernon berated him all the way home, trying to get a rise out of him, but Harry had simply stared out the window of the car. Somehow after meeting all the challenges that had been thrown at him this year, his aunt, uncle and Dudley just didn't seem all that important anymore.

Not that he didn't miss his friends terribly, of course. Harry had been writing numerous letters to Ginny, Ron and Hermione. He and Ginny kept a running letter going back and forth; Harry wondered when Hedwig was going to rebel at all the travel, but she seemed to be pleased that Harry was communicating so much this summer.

Harry pulled all his clothes out of his drawers and packed them into his trunk. He sighed, wishing it was another week later, and he'd be able to legally do magic. If he could do that, he'd have a little personal ritual and burn every ill-fitting hand-me-down that had ever been given to him. He'd thought about just leaving the clothes, but he decided to bring them with him and burn them later.

As he packed his clothes, Harry reflected on the thinking he'd been doing over the summer. With his feelings came a sense that it was time to take some control over his life. He had to trust that Dumbledore had a plan for everything, but Harry had some goals of his own.