Harry Potter lay on his back in the smallest room of Number 4, Privet Drive, staring at the ceiling. This year had been the worst Harry could remember. His Godfather, one Sirius Black, was killed just weeks earlier in the department of Mysteries, and with him died the only chance Harry had at a normal life filled with love. To add to that, Harry’s esteemed Headmaster, the meddling old coot, Albus Dumbeldore, told him of a prophecy, a prophecy that stated "neither can live while the other survives", meaning either he must kill Voldemort or die trying.
As Harry thought about the prophecy, his thoughts quickly moved back to Sirius, tears came to his eyes, but he fought them back. Harry knew that Sirius’ death wasn’t his fault, No matter what everyone else thought, he knew and he didn’t blame himself. He blamed three people for Sirius’ death, Albus Dumbledore, for locking Sirius away, Voldermort, for sending the false vision in the first place, and Sirius himself, for fooling around when he should have been taking things seriously. Some people may wonder why Harry didn’t blame Bellatrix Lestrange for Sirius’ death when she was the one who knocked Sirius through the Veil in the first place, causing the end of his life. The fact was that Harry saw the spell she fired, it was red in colour, it was a stunner. Harry realized that Bellatrix did not want Sirius dead, just out of the battle. Therefore, Harry couldn't blame her.
Most people, Harry’s friends included, thought that Albus Dumbledore was all knowing, and all powerful. However, this was not the case. While Dumbledore was powerful, he wasn’t a great person in general. He manipulated everyone around him, Harry most of all, so that Harry would see him as a hero saving him from the Dursleys every year. However Harry didn’t know this…yet. But what Harry did know was that he would fight and win this war on his own terms. “I’ll win Sirius, I’ll win for you. For my parents, and for all the people that have lost their lives because of this war. I’ll win!” Harry said to himself before he drifted to sleep.
From her cage by the windowsill, Harry's beautiful, snowy owl, Hedwig, hooted softly, almost as if agreement.