Numbness; that was all that Harry Potter felt. He had screamed and shouted, he had ranted and raved but now, that all seemed rather pointless and even a little foolish to the teen as he stood and regained control over his breathing, that had become heavy and labored in his fit of rage.
Numbness felt strange to Harry who, by his own admission, was always an open book when it came to his emotions which had always been prominent, regardless of what mood he was in. But as the final delicate trinket belonging to Dumbledore simply exploded in his hand from the anger he felt, something within him broke along with it.
Immediately the sadness, the anger and the complete sense of despair had evaporated, leaving him hollow and feeling nothing. He was very much aware that he had not lost his ability to feel but he seemed to have gained a way to control it, even detach himself from it and swallow it into the nothingness, burying it deep within him.
He shook his head that had been pounding since Tom had invaded his mind leaving him rather light-headed and in a considerable amount of pain.
"Are you ok Harry?" Dumbledore asked in concern.
"Fine" Harry answered casually. "But I would like to go to bed now, I need time to absorb everything" he explained.
"Of course my boy" Dumbledore agreed quietly.
The old man watched as Harry left the office feeling a slight chill creep up his back.
"I fear that what happened tonight may have affected him more than I would have expected" he spoke sadly to Fawkes. The bird trilled mournfully, he himself could feel that the boy had changed somehow, though he couldn't be sure if it was a good thing or not.
Dumbledore sighed and began stroking the bird's chest absentmindedly.
"Perhaps he needs some space" he mumbled. "Though the order will have to keep an eye on him still, it is important that he is kept safe" he concluded, popping a sherbet lemon into his mouth with another sigh.
(BREAK)
Harry made his way to Gryffindor Tower and to his room, meeting no one on the way, something he was very grateful for as he didn't much feel like exchanging pleasantries with anyone.
He undressed and climbed into his bed, drawing the curtains as he did so to ensure his privacy, sealing them with sticking charm as an added measure, though it took a couple of attempts get right due to his obvious tired state.
He began massaging his temples in an attempt to alleviate the throbbing that was plaguing him and began reflecting back on the night he had just had, realising several things as he played it through from the moment he had left his history of magic exam.
Firstly, he had been tricked, there was no excusing that fact. He felt a stab of anger at his own naivety but swallowed it down, something he wouldn't usually do.
He would instead remain angry at himself and blame himself for being rash and acting stupidly in the heat of the moment. After swallowing the anger he thought more logically about what had happened.
Of course he had been tricked, he was only a rather ignorant fifteen year old after all and Voldemort was much older and more experienced than he was.
"Never again", he vowed to himself in a mutter.
He knew that he needed to think more clearly, even when the situation appeared to be dire. Acting rashly had only ever almost got him killed on several occasions and that led him to his next thought.
"We got very lucky," he admitted to himself.
He knew that he and his friends had indeed gotten very lucky. They had gone against some of the very best that Voldemort had and escaped only injured. He was very aware of the fact that they should have all been killed and should consider themselves very fortunate that they hadn't been.
He began questioning why they had gotten as lucky as they had and could come up with no reason to why, it only served to worsen his already pounding head so he abandoned those thoughts.
His musings turned towards his friends that had accompanied him. They had been hurt by going along with him but the expected stab of guilt never came to the young man, causing him to frown and think on it further.
"I told them not to come, they came by their own accord" he mumbled in realisation.
Although he knew he probably should feel a little guilty at least, he couldn't bring himself to. He hadn't asked them to come and he hadn't forced them in any way. He was sorry that they had gotten hurt but he wouldn't shoulder the blame. He didn't personally curse them after all.
That was another thing that started to play on his mind; the differences in the magic that the order and the Death Eater's used.
The Death Eater's were aiming to kill or maim and the order fired nothing worse than stunners. Harry shook his head exasperatedly.
Even he, a naïve fifteen year old, knew that a war would not be won with stunners and taking prisoners, they had already broken out of Azkaban after all.
"I need to learn better magic for fighting" he declared knowingly.
He surmised that Dumbledore would not like that but it was Harry that Voldemort was coming after and he was very much aware he was not even a fraction of the wizard that he was, again making him realise how lucky he had been in all of their encounters thus far.
He would be making a trip to the library at the earliest possible opportunity, he had a tonne of catching up to do.
He didn't allow his thoughts to dwell on his Godfather, that was a lump of sadness he was not ready to swallow. He did and would miss the man but he wouldn't face that pain yet knowing full well he was not up to it. But that wouldn't stop him thinking of the prophecy, something he should have known about and been prepared for, something that Dumbledore was clearly not keen on doing.
In a way Harry did understand the headmaster's reasoning for keeping it away from him and his reasons would have been well and good had Harry actually had even had a semblance of a childhood but the simple fact was, he hadn't.
It struck Harry odd that he felt nothing towards the headmaster, he had expected at least a stab of anger at the man but it didn't come. Dumbledore had lost much of the respect he had earned from Harry and now, the great man that he had always been seen as by the teen was now simply inconsequential. Harry neither liked nor disliked him, he couldn't even be sure if he looked up to him the same way anymore after the revelations of this evening.