Author's Note: This story is based on J.K Rowling's Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. I have taken inspiration from the chapter called The Lost Prophecy and have used some of her basic ideas to write this story. It is my perception of Harry Potter's reaction to Sirius Black's death in his confrontation with Albus Dumbledore.

This is my very first fan fiction story. PLEASE review after reading my story. I appreciate any constructive feedback, provided that it is not unkind or demeaning. However, Flamers will not be tolerated.

Disclaimer: Ido not own Harry Potter, Albus Dumbledore or Sirius Black. Those characters are entirely the property of JK Rowling. I am not intending to make financial profit from this story.

To Not Show Weakness

Harry gazed dully around Dumbledore's office, watching the portraits uninterestedly. He had already tried the door but it was locked as he had expected. He had cursed inwardly at this and had scolded himself for even raising his hopes about leaving without seeing Dumbledore. There was no way he would be allowed to escape Dumbledore's empty words of comfort. He would have to endure Dumbledore's unjust explanations for all his actions, and would be forced to relive the events of that night and this was the last thing that Harry wanted to do. He didn't want to think about it; he wanted to pretend it was all a horrible nightmare and when he awoke everything would be fine. Harry wanted to avoid the moment when he would think about Sirius. It hurt too much to think about right now.

Harry wandered idly along the walls of the office, lost in his thoughts. A loud whooshing noise snapped him out of his thoughts and he stopped and turned around. Albus Dumbledore was climbing out of the fireplace, brushing ashes from his robes onto the carpet. Silently, he walked to the perch beside the door and placed Fawkes gently on it. Harry did not look at him; he turned away and looked out of the nearest window where he had a view of the Quidditch pitch. It was raining heavily outside, but he could just make out the stands and the hoops at either end of the pitch. It was somewhat soothing; he had to admit to himself, looking out onto the pitch. Quidditch was like that, he supposed. It always made him forget his worries.

'Harry,' said Dumbledore gently. Harry was startled and turned around sharply. He had momentarily forgotten Dumbledore had returned. Dumbledore stared at him intently for a couple of minutes and Harry avoided his gaze by looking determinedly down at the carpet. He was going to be all right; if he could just control his emotions for a little while longer, he could get away from this office without cracking and showing weakness to Dumbledore.

'Harry, please look at me,' requested Dumbledore. Harry glanced briefly at Dumbledore and then resumed his original staring position. He knew he was being rude, but he found he didn't care anymore. He just wanted to leave this office. That was what he wanted more than anything right now.

'I know how you're feeling Harry. I'm deeply sorry about Sirius,' continued Dumbledore quietly. Harry fumed inwardly. Dumbledore was sorry, was he? What was he sorry for? Sorry that he had imprisoned Sirius inside Grimmauld Place? Sorry that Harry had now lost his godfather in addition to his mother and father? Sorry that his neglect of Harry over the past year had most likely caused the death of Sirius? As for knowing about his feelings, did Dumbledore even know how to feel? Harry turned back to the window, not wishing to encourage the continuation of this conversation.

Dumbledore sighed. He hadn't expected it to be easy. He walked slowly across to Harry and laid his hand gently on his shoulder, 'Harry, please talk to me,' he whispered. Harry spun around and took a step backwards, shaking off Dumbledore's hand. After everything that Dumbledore had done to him that year, from ignoring him and refusing to look at him, he now wanted Harry to talk to him. It was quite ironic actually, Harry thought bitterly. Where was Dumbledore when Harry had last wanted to talk? Unable to control himself, 'I DON'T WANT TO TALK TO YOU RIGHT NOW!' he yelled. 'YOU IGNORED ME THE ENTIRE YEAR! I DON'T HAVE ANYTHING TO SAY!'

Dumbledore smiled sadly. 'You may not have anything to say, Harry. But I need to provide you with an explanation for my actions throughout this year –' he could not finish the rest of his sentence because Harry had seized one of the many delicate silver ornaments in his room and had hurtled it across the room, his face contorted with fury. 'I DON'T WANT TO HEAR YOUR EXPLANATIONS!' he roared. 'THERE IS NO JUSTIFICATION FOR WHAT YOU DID TO ME THIS YEAR! YOU JUST DON'T WANT TO BE GUILTY!'

Ignoring the gasps and disapproving expressions from the portraits behind him, Harry strode quickly across the room, past Fawkes, to the door, forgetting that it was locked. He just wanted to get out of the office before he did something he would later regret. He wrenched at the handle and was confused for a fraction of a second when the door refused to open. Fuming, he whipped out his wand and pointed it at the door. 'Alohomora!' he said firmly. It still did not open.

Harry spun on his heel and glared at Dumbledore who was watching him intently, not seeming to be disturbed that Harry had just broken one of his most valuable objects. 'Are you happy? You've made me a prisoner in your office! But that's to be expected – especially after last summer,' he spat. He was shaking with anger. Trying to calm his ragged breathing, he leaned against the door for a few moments. 'Let me out,' he said after a pause. Dumbledore said nothing, but continued to watch him. 'Didn't you hear what I said? Open the door and let me out!' Dumbledore rubbed his hands over his eyes tiredly and said kindly, but firmly, 'I am afraid I cannot do that, Harry. You are not in a state to go back to Gryffindor Tower. In addition, as I mentioned earlier, there are a lot of things that I need to talk to you about.'

'I DON'T WANT TO HEAR WHAT YOU HAVE TO SAY!' shouted Harry furiously. 'I just want to leave your office and grieve for my dead Godfather alone! I don't want to stay here and listen to your explanations, delayed as they are,' he spat. Harry pointed his wand at Dumbledore, too angry to know what he was doing. He saw a momentary look of shock flit across Dumbledore's tired face and then resignation. 'You are going to attack me, Harry?' he asked, sadly. Harry froze and looked down at his arm; it was raised in mid air and his wand was still positioned directly at Dumbledore. Shocked, he let his arm fall to his side hastily but then laughed bitterly. Of course he wouldn't attack Dumbledore, regardless of how much he deserved it, after all, he was Dumbledore's good little boy...and where had that got him? Sirius had died...all because of not questioning Dumbledore's actions all year. 'JUST LET ME OUT OF HERE!' he screamed. 'YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO KEEP ME IN HERE!'

Dumbledore sighed. 'Harry, I am not going to let you out. It would be very foolish to send you out right now. You will stay here, until I say otherwise. The things I need to discuss with you this evening are very important. I will wait until you are ready.' Dumbledore walked around his desk and sat down calmly.

'I WANT TO BE ALONE! I NEED TO BE ALONE!' shouted Harry angrily. Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. 'Precisely,' he said. 'You want to be alone because you fear you will shatter and lose control, and you do not wish to reveal weakness to anyone.'

'Well, you're wrong as usual! Wrong!' Harry said vehemently. To his horror, he could feel a peculiar burning sensation near the corners of his eyes. He turned away hastily, and stared at the door until his vision cleared.

'It is okay to cry, Harry,' said Dumbledore softly. Harry whirled around. 'I AM NOT CRYING!' he yelled. He could feel his face getting hot. His cheeks were flushed and his breathing was coming in shallow gasps. He couldn't take this anymore. One more second in this room, and he was going to crack. Harry decided to try another strategy. Taking a deep breath, and controlling the anger in his voice, he said 'Professor, please let me out now. I will return whenever you wish. I will listen to all of your explanations, but not today-' he trailed off when he saw Dumbledore hold up his hand.

'Harry, I have already said this. I will not allow you to leave this room until you have heard everything I need to say. How long you wish to remain here is up to you. I have nothing else to say in this matter.' Harry glared furiously at Dumbledore, aware of the waves of anger threatening to wash over him again. He balled his hands into fists and struggled to keep his temper in check. He had the vague feeling that Dumbledore knew exactly of his internal struggle and it irritated him.

'Please, Harry. I am sorry about this,' said Dumbledore quietly. Harry observed a slight tremor in his voice. Behind Harry, Fawkes uttered a long, low cry that was heart rending, yet beautiful in melody. To Harry's intense embarrassment, he suddenly felt on the verge of tears and found himself thinking about Sirius again. Sirius had died...it had been less than two hours and yet he felt a part of himself was missing. He still couldn't understand why he was feeling he had simply misplaced that part; that he would soon retrieve it. Sirius was gone...forever.

'I made many mistakes this year, Harry. I am sorry and I only hope you will forgive me,' said Dumbledore softly. His voice shook with emotion. Harry, who had been watching Sirius fall back into the veil in his mind, nearly missed out on what Dumbledore had said. Dumbledore admitted he had made a mistake? Harry stood stock still, feeling the hollowness inside him more than ever. Fawkes made a cooing noise and Harry turned his face towards the door, suddenly aware of an uncomfortable wetness on his cheeks. 'Harry, crying does not indicate weakness,' said Dumbledore mildly and continued when Harry did not turn on him in fury. 'Rather, it helps eliminate the intense sorrow you are feeling.'

He walked over to where Harry stood slowly, encouraged that Harry did not prevent him from coming nearer. When he was only a foot or so away from Harry, he cautiously extended his arm and laid it on Harry's shoulder. Harry did not shake it off; it somehow felt mildly comforting. He stiffened slightly when Dumbledore laid his other hand on his other shoulder and turned his body to face him. Harry lowered his eyes which were still bright with tears, unable to look at Dumbledore, whose eyes were filled with compassion and affection. 'I'm truly sorry that I was a cause of the loss of your Godfather,' he said sadly. 'Before more innocent lives can be lost and more mistakes can be made on my part, I will tell you everything. Please come with me, Harry,' and with that, he patted Harry gently on the shoulder and walked over to his desk. Harry hesitated slightly, then wiped his face and walked across the office avoiding the fallen, broken objects and seated himself opposite Dumbledore. It was time to discover the truth behind the secrets Dumbledore had kept from him all these years and the justifications and explanations of Dumbledore's actions that year.

Author's Note 2: Please review! As I have mentioned before, this is my first attempt at a fan fiction story. Any feedback will be gladly accepted, provided that it is not unkind. Thanks!