Harry Potter's Worries

The moon shone through the window, dimly lighting the wall of Harry Potter's room.

A small, hand-made calendar was hanging there, and it magically put an X mark as 12 o'clock approached. Harry looked at the blurry edges of the moon, sighed and put on his glasses.

He walked silently to his dresser's mirror. "Happy birthday!" he whispered to his reflection as he put on a nervous smile. There was nothing to be happy about, he knew it, last term's events had been so painful it started affecting his sleep. Harry was able to escape Lord Voldemort's cluthches, but at a great loss.

Voldemort killed his godfather. Harry wiped his eyes as he remembered the way Sirius laughed, his movements, his voice.

It was all painful, but the shock of Sirius' death was not enough to keep him from thinking of Dumbledore's revealation.

Harry's true purpose had presented itself, he now knew why his parents were killed, why he was hunted.

Harry mulled these things over in his thoughts as he went to the window and stared at the moon's cratered face.

Hedwig was out at the moment, delivering letters to Ron Weasly and Hermione Granger. Owl Post was no longer a risky medium for communicating about the recent events. The Ministry of Magic finally admitted its blunder, taking in to full responsibility the informing of all witches and wizards that Voldemort was back. A screech and hoot told Harry that his snowy owl had arrived. He opened the window and let Hedwig flutter to his bed. "Great work Hedwig," he said as he smiled at the owl, he then proceeded to untie her load. Hedwig hooted softly and went to her cage to sleep. She carried quite a lot, Harry thought, he beamed at the parcels Hedwig had brought. At least something would distract him from all his worries--for now...

Five letters, four boxes. He couldn't imagine how Hedwig was able to carry it all. He looked over the letters, one with neat writing, Hermione, loopy scrawl, Ron, BIG handwriting, must be Hagrid, an official Hogwarts letter. The fifth letter had the same loopy writing as the note when he first received his father's Invisibility cloak. Dumbledore had written to him. "It's about time,"he said. Harry tore the letter open and read some more of the loopy handwriting:

Dear Harry,

    You are now fully aware of your true mission, I hope this burden will not prevent you from being yourself.

I cannot guarantee that you will not face greater dangers or more losses, I am truly sorry for my lack of power for this.

The prophecy has told us what Voldemort does not know, that you posses a power that will be able to surpass his. I am sure that he will know about this sooner or later but the current situation gives us the upper hand. We have enough time to prepare, you Harry, will be trained in other fields of magic with your friends. And let me inform you, I am making the DA an official club at Hogwarts. Right now, the only advice a wheezing old man can tell you is this: Be yourself, trust in the power that you and those around you posses.

                         Goodluck,

                         Albus Dumbledore

                             PS,

                             A very Happy Birthday to you!

Maybe I'm supposed to lose my head more often? Harry kidded himself. The letter invigorated him for a while and he highly suspected that there was a cheering charm in it. Hogwarts, he missed it so much eventhough it holds many painful events.