A/N: Welcome to the first chapter of The Newest Titan. As you guys already know the main pairings from the summary, I'm going to need help deciding Beast Boy's and Cyborg's love interest. So feel free to drop a review on that. Also feel free to pm me or review if you have questions, complaints, or ideas. Thanks for reading and

Enjoy!

ps: The chapter has been revised, so please tell me what you think. Also I have a new poll for this story on my profile, so please feel free to vote.

Thanks!

New Abilities

June 10, 1996

2:58 am

Number 4 Privet Drive, Surry

It was happening yet again.

That tragic night in the Chamber of Death, the night he lost it all. He could see everything around him, as if he was just a spectator to the events. He could see Tonks losing the duel against Bellatrix Lestrange. He could see Sirius rushing in to rescue her.

He knew what would happen next. He's relived it too many times not to.

He watched as the duel began. The colorful spells flying to and fro. He watched as Sirius got a lucky shot and knocked Bellatrix to the ground. He saw the cocky smirk that stretched over his once handsome face. Then he heard the laughter; that laugh was the last sound he ever made.

Even though he knew what would happen next, he couldn't help but surge forward in an absurd belief that he could still save him. But as always, he was too slow. Bellatrix got to her feet and shot a crimson red spell at Sirius before he had a chance to react.

That face would forever be ingrained in his memory.

Sirius died with a smile on his face. His last laugh frozen on his features even as his eyes widened in shock. Then he fell backward, his body arcing gracefully as he fell into the veil. Just like all the other times, he couldn't help but try and run into the veil after his godfather. The pain just as apparent now as it was then, except this time there was no one stopping him from diving into the veil with Sirius. He could feel it in the depths of his soul that he could save him. He ran into the gently fluttering veil and saw nothing but darkness.

Then it came.

A pain so agonizing that it made the Cruciatus feel like a tickle in comparison. Even through the pain, he could feel a strange power fill him. The power filled him to the brim before the pain intensified. He felt as though he was being electrocuted in a pool of water. The current ran over his body scorching his skin until finally the scream he was just barely holding in was released.

Harry Potter woke screaming. Even though the dream was over, he could still feel the electrical current in his body; however, as his scream faded away, so did the pain. He sat there panting aware of a dull ache in his body. What was that all about? He's had that dream since… that night. He could feel his depression returning. The pain had only temporarily pushed last year's events to the back of his mind.

His sadness came back ten-fold, as he felt hot tears suddenly spring into his emerald green eyes. That night was always at the very edge of his awareness. Every second of every day, his mind would take him back to that terrible night. The night he lost the only father-figure he had. What pained him the most was not that he couldn't save him, (although he does feel guilty about that too), but that their time together was so brief—just beginning and cut tragically short.

He only got to talk to Sirius a few times over the years. Most of their conversations came in the form of letters; however that didn't stop him from loving Sirius like the father he wish he still had.

Harry decided to stop thinking about Sirius before the feelings of sadness totally engulfed him. Instead, he thought about the bombshell that Dumbledore had dropped on him right after Sirius was killed. If the existence of a super-powerful madman isn't bad enough, then being destined to fight said madman is infinitely worse. Even though he only heard it once, he could remember every word of the prophecy:

The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches ... born to those who have thrice defied him ... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not ... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives ... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies...

Those words became a constant mantra within his mind. He analyzed those words backwards and forward but could not find a way to take himself out of the equation. Each verse matched him in some way: born to parents who defied Voldemort three times before he was born (check), born at the end of July, which is the seventh month on most calendars (check), marked by Voldemort (check). As much as he wished it weren't so, how could the prophecy be about anyone but him?

Dumbledore told him that while he was able to love, all Voldemort could feel was hatred. Harry was also told that the power of love was the strongest power in the world. So in a way, he had a power that the Dark Lord didn't have and didn't know about (damn, another check). And since he also knew that Voldemort would never stop pursuing him, there is no way that either of them could live while the other survived (is there even any need to say it?).

Even the Daily Prophet somehow figured out some of what the prophecy foretold. All over the paper were headlines that depicted him as the Chosen One-the one destined to destroy the Dark Lord.

But why should he? The wizarding world never did him any favors. Just last year, the whole community turned on him because of Fudge's smear campaign. They all branded him a lunatic puppet and Dumbledore as some kind of evil puppet master. Why should he become their savior?

He clenched his fists as he continued to think about the magic population's capriciousness. They really think that he would just save their lives after all they did to him. He should just run away; there's nothing keeping him here. His friends probably hate him for endangering their lives and he wouldn't blame them if they did.

These thoughts did nothing for his temper and he clenched his fists to the point where his palms began to bleed. He began to feel something build up as his anger at the wizarding world increased.

Then something happened.

His hands began to tingle and he could hear sharp electrical pops coming from them. Looking down, he saw to his disbelief, his hands glowing in electrical energy. Trembling, he held his hands up and away from his body as though they were not his own. It happened so fast that he almost thought he imagined it.

A bolt of what looked like lightning burst from his hands and struck the bare wall of his room. It must have been a rather weak blast since the only damage it caused was a huge singe mark on the beige-colored wall. As far as Harry was concerned, it may as well have made a pinhole in the wall for all the outward reaction he displayed. This surprise was more than his already exhausted emotional arsenal could bear and thus the only emotion he had left was apathy. He looked at his now perfectly normal and familiar hands dispassionately and said his first words all week:

"That was new."

A/N: Like I said before, please feel free to let me know your thoughts. Thanks!