Harry was beginning to get a true understanding of just how massive the library was. He had went to a random shelf and started looking through various books, but he soon realized that most of the books were rather useless for his purposes. They were all crammed full of spells and theories, but due to the completeness of the library he was having trouble finding the sorts of advanced spells that he needed. Some of the books were dedicated entirely to a single spell or theory that gave him all sorts of nice trivia, but nothing that would help him in a battle with Voldemort.
As he looked down the row he noticed that most of the books were unworn, as if they'd never been used much. Hit with inspiration he began swiftly moving down the shelves searching for books that had been battered with use. Each time he reached such a book he pulled it down and carried it to the main table where he soon amassed a rather intimidating pile. He reluctantly pulled down all the most heavily worn curse books, more to keep them from being thrown out by Tonks than because he wanted to read them. He flipped through them one at a time and realized that most of the magic contained therein was easily beyond N.E.W.T level. He finally found a book entitled "The Premier Practitioner's Pocketbook for Advanced Spells," that he decided would be good for him to start with. It seemed to contain a few chapters on all the major types of spells such as charms, transfiguration, hexes, jinxes, curse breaking, and even a tiny potions segment.
He lugged the books back to his room as quietly as possible and stacked them orderly in his trunk before shoving the lot back under his bed. It wouldn't do to have Tonks or Moody discover his stash of library highlights.
The light spilling through the window told Harry that he had awoken at a more reasonable time than the previous day. He took a quick bath before tossing on his battered muggle clothes and hurrying off down to breakfast. He gave Ron a shake before he left since he knew that his friend would be disappointed if he missed the start of a meal. Hermione and Remus were already sitting at the table with Molly who had finished loading up the table with breakfast. They exchanged greetings as Harry loaded up his plate and sat down.
"How come there haven't been many people around lately?" he asked.
"Most of the people in the Order have other jobs and activities that they usually do," Remus explained, "So it would raise suspicions to have them disappearing to some unknown place to do unknown things very often."
Harry started to say that this was good thinking, but before he could get anything out Ron entered the room and began loading up a plate.
"Where is Ginny anyway?" he asked, "I've not seen her much in a few days."
"Well, we've been busy," Hermione said evasively. Something in her voice must have triggered Ron's interest because he didn't let it drop.
"We're not busy right now, what's so important to miss breakfast?" he asked.
"I think she was writing something when I left," Hermione said noncommittally.
Ron looked at her suspiciously, but was apparently satisfied enough to go back to his meal. Hermione rolled her eyes at Harry and mouthed the words "Dean Thomas" to him. Harry grinned, no wonder Hermione hadn't wanted to say anything. The last time anyone mentioned Dean poor Ron nearly burst a vessel. "Harry, can I look at your books that Dumbledore sent you?" Hermione asked.
"Sure, I've already read through them," Harry replied.
Ron looked at them like they were mental. Harry caught his stare and smiled.
"You're welcome to borrow them too Ron," he said
"Mental," Ron said.
Harry and Hermione excused themselves and went up to Harry's room to retrieve the books. Harry grabbed his copy of the Practitioner's Pocketbook and they headed for the study. They had only just started reading when Ron came in complaining about being bored since there was very little cleaning left to do in the house and almost no interesting creatures to dislodge. He soon quieted down when Hermione pestered him to get ahead in his studies for the next term and settled for reading his magazine some more.
"Harry, what are you doing," Hermione said sharply.
Harry looked up at her quizzical expression before realizing that she was talking about his wand. He had been unconsciously tracing spell patterns in the air as he read his Pocketbook.
"Oh, well, since we can't do magic I thought it might be a good idea to at least practice the wand movements as I memorize the spells," he said sheepishly.
"Wow, that's a brilliant idea Harry," Hermione said as she whipped her own wand out. Ron raised an eyebrow as he watched the two of them reading and jabbing the air with their wands.
Eventually Ron attempted to study, but he wasn't able to concentrate for very long. After a while he began to mope from one room to another looking for interesting things to do. Remus came into the study after lunch and discussed spell theory with them as they continued to pour over their books. Harry had managed to memorize several complex spells, but he would have no way of testing his ability to use them until school started.
"It's about time to check on the potion," Hermione said as the day started to grow dark.
Harry moved to get up and go with her, but she stopped him.
"There's no point in you coming Harry," she said, "it'll just be more suspicious if Ginny or Tonks come around and there isn't anything for you to do. I'll just change the flame and stir it a little."
Harry nodded, then watched as she cautiously left the room, making sure no one would notice her as she made her way down to the dungeon. Harry closed the door behind her before going over to a window to look outside. Remus got up and joined him. His face looked worn and Harry realized that there would be a full moon soon.
"Are you going to be ok?" Harry asked lamely.
"Yes, I'm just starting to tire from combating my wolfish instincts," Remus said.
Thoughts of Sirius welled up in Harry's heart as he stood there with Remus looking out into the moonlit night. He remembered all the good times that he had spent with Sirius, even when they were at a distance exchanging owls. Sirius had always been there for him, even when it was at the risk to his own life. He had helped him during the Triwizard Tournament, given him his Firebolt, and just talked when he needed it.
"I miss him too Harry," Remus said softly as if he were reading Harry's mind.
Harry tried to blink back unshed tears before he responded. "I--I, He was so good to me Remus," Harry said with a voice between a squeak and a sob, "I never even got to tell him just how much he meant to me."
"Harry," Remus said kindly, "Sirius knew how much you cared for him, and he cared for you just as much. I remember how happy it made him when you wanted to come live with him. He kept telling me about it for days."
"Yeah, and now I'll never get to," Harry said bitterly.
"Harry, you know that Sirius will always be with you in spirit," Remus said, trying to change track.
"I suppose so," Harry said.
Remus looked at the gaunt haunted expression on Harry's face and knew that there was more bothering him than simple loneliness for his godfather. Remus was shocked that Harry had managed to bury his emotions like this, but now that his façade was crumbling it looked like something was eating him from the inside out.
"Harry, what else is it, what's bothering you?" he asked gently.
"Its, its that I," Harry paused, grief and anger filling his voice, as he continued in a whisper, "Remus, its my fault that he's gone."
"No, Harry, you can't believe that," Remus said forcefully, "Sirius chose to go to the Department of Mysteries. You thought that he was being tortured, there was no way to know that Voldemort could feed you false memories. After all, you had already seen Mr. Weasley get bitten so you had every reason to believe that this dream was real too."
"No, there wasn't anyway to know that the dream was a trap," Harry said, "but being tricked isn't why it's my fault."
"Wh-What do you mean?" Remus asked shakily as he watched Harry's expression darken. Through the mask of rage that had settled on Harry he could see a dim gleam in his eye that betrayed a raw power that Remus had only seen in one other person: Dumbledore.
"It was my fault because for the last five years I've wasted too much time doing things that aren't important," Harry spat out angrily, "I've spent too many hours playing quiddich, or games, or just sitting around idly. Hermione begged me every year to study harder but I still put things off and when I did do something I'd do it sloppily so I could go have fun doing something pointless."
"Harry," Remus began, but Harry was just starting to wind up.
"No, I've been a fool," Harry said, his voice rising, "I've known since first year that Voldemort was out there waiting to hurt me and those close to me. If I had of applied myself to learning magic like I should have then maybe I would have been able to save Sirius or maybe I would have developed enough skill in Occlumency so that Voldemort would have never had the opportunity to trick me."
"Harry, you can't second guess everything you've ever done," Remus said.
"No, I can't change it now, but I can change the future. I'll become the most powerful wizard I can; I won't slack off anymore. Then at least I can face myself in the mirror every morning knowing that when something awful happens there really was nothing more I could have done." Harry said with steely resolve.
"Harry, don't be too hard on yourself," Remus said.
"I can't be any harder on myself than it already is," Harry whispered, "I see them Remus, every night I see them die."
"Them?" Remus asked hesitantly. Surely Harry wasn't trying to blame himself for his parents too.
"Sirius and Hermione," Harry said, "Every night Sirius gets sucked into the horrible veil and then that beast Dolohov burns Hermione down with his foul curse."
"Harry," Remus sighed, "I know that Sirius wouldn't blame you for what happened. Burdens have been thrust upon you that even an adult shouldn't have to bear. You can't blame yourself for wanting to enjoy life. I think Hermione would say the same thing. Maybe its time you talked to her about what you're feeling."
"I don't want to put my problems onto someone else," Harry said. "I have a feeling she would want to be troubled by this Harry. She's your friend and I can tell she cares for you as deeply as you care for her," Remus said hopefully.
Harry glanced at him sharply but he didn't respond.
"All I'm saying is that you can't let guilt and vengeance come between you and your friends," Remus added hastily.
"I can't allow death to come between us either," Harry said defiantly and Remus had no response. He moved close to Harry and wrapped his arm around his shoulders.
"Besides," Harry thought grimly, "I don't have a choice. The prophecy says I'll have vengeance or die."
"Harry, I want to say just one more thing. Sirius and your parents suffered many things to keep you safe and as I've already told you they would want you to enjoy the time their sacrifice has given you. Realize this though, they would have suffered and struggled against Voldemort even if you had never been born. We all fought Voldemort for years because it was the right thing to do and we all lost friends, but we didn't let their passing be in vain by allowing sorrow to turn us into living dead."
Harry looked up at Remus and felt tears finally break free. He tightened his grip on the kindly werewolf and nodded his head before looking away. They stood there for a while longer before Hermione returned from the dungeon. Harry stammered something about being tired and hurried out of the room, unsure of his voice. He was too emotionally drained to face Hermione or anyone else right now. His beaten appearance and the stains on his cheeks startled Hermione, but when she tried to go after him Remus called her back. The last thing Harry saw as he left was Remus motioning Hermione to come join him next to the window.
By the time Harry arrived back at his room he was already feeling guilty for running away from them. Remus' words echoed in his mind over and over again as he tried to make sense of everything that had been said. He felt strangely guilty for not speaking to Hermione. Remus had said that he should discuss what he was feeling to her, but it had almost felt like Remus was telling him something else that his words didn't convey.
Harry flopped down onto his bed and furrowed his brow as he tried to unravel what he was feeling. He thought back to the Department of Mysteries, the pain that he had felt at the moment when he comprehended Sirius' death. Before that though, his nightmares dwelled on Hermione being injured, the sense of pain and loss and…terror? Harry's stomach gave a weak lurch as he imagined what he would have felt like if Hermione had of died instead of Sirius. Could it have been even worse? A lump rose in Harry's throat as he thought about the possibility of Hermione dying. She had been his friend for nearly five years now, his best friend, and his most faithful friend. Even when Ron had doubted him after his name came out of the Goblet of Fire, Hermione had never questioned his story. All last year Hermione had stood up to his foolish whims, berated him to study Occlumency, helped him get through each day as he suffered under Umbridge's heel. Harry felt his face burn in shame as he remembered how unhinged he had been. Hermione had been there for him though, even when no one else was. His stomach gave another flop and he realized that if anything happened to Hermione he would be utterly devastated, lost. Harry pretended to be asleep when Ron came in, but he lay awake into the early hours of the morning wrestling with the feelings that washed over him like a sudden summer thunderstorm.