This is a fic is AU, starting out after Harry's 4th year. I've had this idea in my head for a long time and finally started writing it out and after digging about for some courage I decided to post it. I took some elements of the 5th book but most are my own ideas, I do include the prophecy because it explains why Voldemort is out for him, kind of. I am really sorry if it appears that I took an idea out of someone's story. I have had this in my head and written out for a long time and then I read a bunch of stories off this site, which might have influenced me. Please review, this is my first fic and I would like some feedback on, good and bad. *cough-lets hope for more good than bad-cough*

One For All

By Natural Anthem

When one looked at the neighborhood of Privet Drive one could not find anything out of the ordinary. Each garden was meticulously trimmed and the shrubs along the walls of the houses were pruned to fine detail. Not a single paint chip fell from the sides of the houses and the windows sparkled cleanly in the moonlight. It was annoyingly normal.

Even the people of Privet Drive were normal to extremes. All the female residents spent their days sticking their heads out their windows in hope of catching some gossip. The husbands of the neighborhood went off to their offices and factories each weekday and the children played in the sun during the day or took refuge in front of the televisions.

Number 4 Privet Drive, home to the Dursleys, was no different than its neighbors. Petunia was just as nosey as anyone on the block, constantly sticking her horse-like neck out the window. Vernon headed off to Grunnings Drills each weekday to bring home the family's money and Dudley "played" with his friends out side in the hot summer heat or lounged indoors. The only exception was the secret that the Dursley family tried to hide the best they could from the neighbors. This secret is the existence of one Harry James Potter.

Why would anyone want to keep a boy a secret? Ah, well the said 14, nearly 15 year old, is the contradiction of the Dursleys lives. Harry Potter is a wizard, a very famous and powerful one at that, although his power had not yet begun to show their real strength. The idea of magic to the Dursley family is horrible. Something so "freakish" does not belong in their lives.

In solution to this problem, they kept Harry locked in his bedroom when at all possible, although they sent him off to work everyday and gave him lists of chores to make up for all the 'charity' the Dursley family had shown him. Previously they had kept him locked in a cupboard. They had only moved him into Dudley's second bedroom four years ago. Yes, the Catholic Church will be calling them up any day to reward them with sainthood for this selfless charity. Or so they believed.

Harry was currently looking out the bedroom window of said room. His emerald eyes were reflecting the moonlight. His piercing eyes only brought him more attention. They drew eyes to his face, which lead to eyes staring at his lightening bolt scar along with messy raven black hair.

He sighed looking up at the moon. He found that the bars on the window did not add to the room's dŽcor very well, but there was nothing he could do about it. Harry examined the craters visible from earth that littered the moon's surface thinking about the nightmare that had woken him up.

He had been at Hogwarts. He walked through the empty halls searching for someone, anyone. The castle seemed lifeless, even the portraits were empty. He came upon the huge doors that would give him entrance to the great hall and grasped the brass handle. A familiar tug of his navel made Harry feel as though he was swallowing his heart. He knew what was coming. He was definitely not a fan of portkeys.

He landed in the all too familiar graveyard. He was face to face with Voldemort once again, wand in hand. Instead of a duel starting immediately Voldemort just laughed. Being the pleasant sound that it was Harry took this chance to look around instead of look at Voldemort.

Death Eaters stood all around him. The white masks that covered their faces glowed in the moonlight. About 20 royal blue cloaked figures walked between the Death Eaters and stopped in a circle around him. They each lowered their hoods and Harry screamed.

Harry recognized each and every ghost that had lowered its hood. Ron was the first ghost to approach him. "How could you Harry. You let us ALL down."

Hermoine stood next to Ron and shouted, "I will never forgive you Harry. Never."

Tears had begun to gather in Harry's eyes as he chanted in his head 'It's only a dream. It's only a dream...'

Harry turned around to find Sirius giving him a death glare. "I wish I had never known you Harry. This all your fault."

Remus, James and Lily joined Sirius yelling, "You are the reason we are all dead!"

Harry stumbled backwards and came eye to eye with professor Dumbledore. Dumbledore did not speak, his eyes portrayed severe disappointment and hate. His eyes seemed to bore into Harry's soul.

Finally Cedric came to Harry. "You tricked me Harry. You are the reason I am dead and the reason all these people will die. You brought Voldemort back. The blood is on your hands." Cedric pointed to Harry's hands. Harry looked down and screamed. His hands were covered in deep red blood. The ghosts seem to begin to bleed. Harry shook his head fiercely and began to back up, out of the circle of hateful eyes and fell down on his backside.

Ron began to chant, "It's your fault Harry." Harry could barely see from all the tears coming down his face. Soon each of the ghosts had joined in including his classmates and teachers. His scar had begun to burn and he woke up sitting up straight in his bed.

His breathing was hard and ragged. All he could see was the faces of his fellow classmates who had not spoken, stuck in what appeared to be a silent scream. He could hear the accusations ringing in his ears and feel the hateful glares on his skin.

If only he had not make Cedric take the cup with him. Cedric could have at least been saved. If only he had not been in the tournament. Then Voldemort would not have been resurrected. If only he had been able to do something more than run from Voldemort. The if only's ran marathons through his brain. He shook his head. He could not do anything to change those things now. He would have to make sure they would never happen again.

He jumped. His hands were damp. Were they really covered in blood? He looked down and chided himself. He was only sweaty. He couldn't let dreams take him over like that. They were only dreams after all.

He knew they were only dreams, although each time he woke up from one he felt miserable. He smiled to himself. As terrible as they made him feel they were becoming awfully clichŽ. The people in his dreams rarely changed what they said to him.

He swung his feet out of the small bed that rested against the beige wall. He set the thin blanket at the base of the bed and went to stand at the window, where we were when we first found Harry.

As he stared at the moon he wondered if any of his friends could see the moon he could. How were they? Their letters were probably written how Harry's were. Just to reassure each other that everything was "fine."

Ron seemed be having a good summer as he usually did. In his last letter he had talked about playing a lot of Quidditch with Ginny, Fred and George. He had mentioned Fred and George's Weasley Wizarding Wheezes. Apparently Ron had to closely monitor his food now after being turned into to an array of creatures from canary to a striped dog. Ron had expressed his great unhappiness with being a pink and blue striped dog especially. Harry had smiled when he read this. He was glad the twins were putting the tournament money to good use. Ron had also mentioned something called the Order of the Phoenix. Harry couldn't tell what it was exactly but gathered that it must be some anti-Voldemort group.

Hermione had gone on and on in her last letter about being in Russia with her parents. She had listed off countless facts about Russia. She had become worried sounding near the end of the letter and badgered him on how he was doing, if he was eating, if he was having nightmares. He had written her back with reassuring statements; he didn't want to ruin anyone's summer. Well, anyone's besides the Dursleys. That was inevitable. Although the Dursleys still announced that he was doing so each day.

Harry frowned, slightly worried. He hadn't heard from Sirius since the third task. He heard Dumbledore's orders for Sirius resounding in his head. Round up the old crowd.

Ah. Who ever the old crowd was was still a mystery to him. But it must be taking Sirius a while to round them up. He would have been notified if something had happened. Hopefully. There was nothing he could do if something did happen. He couldn't write to Sirius. He might give Sirius away to anyone watching him. Hedwig, being bright pure white, was a little noticeable.

His attention was drawn from his thoughts to the aforementioned white owl flying towards his window. Hedwig hovered in font of the window looking at the bars.

"I'm sorry girl, I still don't know how to let you in." He looked at her, she looked so tired. He reached out the window and put his hands on the bars. Suddenly two of the bars he was touching parted. "What the..."

Harry had felt frustrated that he couldn't help Hedwig then he felt a tingle of magic leave his fingers and the bars had parted. All he could think was that he was going to get quite the letter from the Ministry of Magic about his unauthorized underage magic.

Hedwig flew in the window and landed on the desk next to her food dish. Harry quickly filled it with food for her and untied the letter on her leg. He unrolled it and read. Speak of the devil.

Dear Harry, I'm sorry I haven't been writing you since the third task but Remus and I have been busy. Still going on Dumbledore's orders you heard in the infirmary and occasionally looking for a certain rat. I'm sorry I can't tell you more but this letter could be intercepted. How are you doing these days? Has your scar been hurting? If it has either write Dumbledore or me. How are those Dursleys treating you? You can always threaten them with me again. Petunia might remember me. If not, well I still have that murderer thing going. Actually, in the wizarding world I no longer have that murderer thing going for me. Dumbledore managed to get pictures of Pettigrew that he showed the press. He told the press the whole story. Got Fudge in some hot water. Fudge ended up announcing a pardon for me. Within a few minutes of the announcement I turned up and scared Fudge witless. I have to be going. I hope to see you soon. Stay safe and remember to write if your scar is hurting. Love Sirius

Harry put down the letter, ecstatic. Sirius was free! He would really have to start reading the Daily Prophet again, he had missed the news of Sirius being free because he had decided to burn each Daily Prophet for the last week. He wasn't too fond of the Prophet anymore, what with them implying or outright saying he was crazy in nearly every article. Of course Sirius was probably too busy to be able to come and get Harry from the Dursleys. He calmed his emotions and went to check on Hedwig. His owl was settling herself into sleep as he smoothed her feathers. He took out a quill and parchment and sat down at the desk. He tapped the feathered end of the quill to his lips, trying to decide what to write.

Dear Sirius, Its wonderful to hear you're free! I am so happy for you. I hope I get to see you sometime over the summer, after all, I haven't seen you free yet. I am doing all right. The Dursleys are being their usual selves so things are pretty normal. My scar hasn't been hurting much. Any time it does Dumbledore says it is just a strong emotion that Voldemort is emitting. He seems to be happy a lot this week. I'm not quite sure what that means but it's probably not good for us. Me stay safe? I do, but trouble always comes to me anyway. A better deal would be you promising to stay safe. Much more accomplishable. Harry

Satisfied with his response, he rolled up the parchment and set it on the desk. He would send Hedwig out with it when she was rested. He got up and stretched his neck to the sides and decided to try to get a couple more hours of sleep. He immediately regretted stretching his neck. He had been very achy since June and had pulled his neck muscles into more discomfort. He lay down on the bed and soon fell asleep.

In Harry's opinion his dream had no adjectives to explain it besides weird. Really weird. He would really need to invest in a thesaurus. It might just come in handy in times like these.

He was standing in a courtyard, looking up at a large metallic light blue stone building. When he looked down he realized he was standing on what appeared to be a cloud. He jumped up and down a few times, probably not the most logical move, but he did anyway. He didn't really want to find out if he would fall through the cloud if he moved, but staying in the same place for the whole dream would be rather uneventful.

He walked past a fountain of a blue and gold phoenix and walked up the steps to the big silver front doors.

He pushed them open and walked into a yellow room. Bright bright yellow. He looked around and saw that there were pictures hanging on the walls, each in a black frame. Large black curvy writing on the wall declared that this was the room of Helga Hufflepuff. He looked at each of the pictures from Helga's down to a girl who died in 1915. This must be the hall of her heirs. He glanced around. He had brilliant deduction skills really.

In the center of the room stood a black and yellow marble pedestal. On top of it floating magically was a metal shield with Hufflepuff designs on it. It glimmered in the light that came down on it from the ceiling.

Underneath the shield it said "To protect all who need help. None shall be shunned from the help of a Hufflepuff."

He found the next door and walked into a green room with silver trim. Harry groaned. It didn't take a genius to figure out whose room this was. Silver writing clued those who were dumb as bricks in to the fact that it was Salazar Slytherin's room. Harry walked over to the picture of the last heir that was hanging up. It was Voldemort.

"Of course," Harry said, then spotted the next to last heir, Gindelwald. "Messy hair runs in the Potter line, world dominating evil runs in this one."

The green marble pedestal in the center of the room held up a black sword with snakes all around the handle. Harry walked closer to it. Under it it said, "An heir of Salazar who wields this sword will receive ultimate power."

"Well hopefully Voldemort doesn't know about this little development. Wait I am in a dream. Of course he doesn't. I seriously must be going crazy. Well, crazier than I thought I was."

He walked into the next room, it was royal blue. Rowena Ravenclaw sat proudly in her frame, as did each of her heirs. The last heir, Harry saw with a smile, was Nicholas Flamel. The pedestal in this room held an old wooden staff; Harry guessed it would work similar to a wand, but maybe with more power.

Writing by the staff proclaimed "Knowledge and power can create an unbreakable force."

Harry walked through the door once again and entered a deep red room. "Ah. Good be back in Gryffindor."

He walked over to the last heir picture. It was Dumbledore. "Well that makes sense I guess." His attention was drawn to the pedestal in the center of the room. It had nothing on it but a bird's perch and a sheath for a sword. "Fawkes! Fawkes must be the heirloom of Gryffindor." Harry said out loud. He looked at the sheath. "Ah, the sword I pulled out of the hat maybe. Perhaps why it was called the Sword of Gryffindor."

Harry looked and saw another door appear. 'There were only four founders, where else could this place go? Hmm, perhaps if you go through this door genius you will find out," Harry said to himself. Harry walked through it into a purple room.

"Merlin," He said simply when he looked around. Only one portrait was hung on the wall. In the center of the room sat a necklace with purple stones. Another door appeared. "Ok. I can't think of anyone else really powerful who would have a room here. Then again I never did pay attention in History of Magic. I could have missed about 500 years of really powerful people or something."

He walked through it into a completely white room with a woman standing calmly in it.

"Hello Harry," she said. Harry jumped.

"How do you know my name?"

"I am one of the keepers of these halls, this room in particular. Of course I know your name, this is your room."

"Whoa, what?" Harry asked, looking around, there was only one silver frame hanging on the wall, with no picture. The pedestal in the center of the room held a white and silver woven leather tie bracelet.

"This is your room Harry. You are destined to come into great power, more powerful then any of the founders of Hogwarts and more than Merlin."

"Subtle I must say. Lets just skip the greetings and get right to business apparently. I think you have the wrong kid, I had trouble with the summoning charm last year, no way am I more powerful than any of those people."

"When you were hit with the killing curse as a baby it also did damage to you. It caused your powers to recede, making you only a normal wizard. Upon your fifteenth birthday you are to begin to regain your power." Harry still looked at her doubtfully.

"How?"

The woman walked and picked up the bracelet. She instructed Harry to pull up his sleeve. She tied it to his wrist. Harry looked down; it felt as though it belonged there.

"The bracelet will never be removed now. It is yours and it cannot be stolen. It will release the power that you should have back into you, if we did it all at once it would kill you. Everyday you may notice new powers and abilities that you have. If you use a larger amount of magic it will glow silver. Do not worry, it is normal."

"Stylin'. Wait. You said on my birthday. Its not my birthday yet."

"We have looked into the future to see that you will need some of this great power shortly before your birthday, we decided to call you here early so you would not suffer great losses that would very much affect you and how you would carry out your future."

"You brought me here?"

"Yes. The keepers and I called you here during a dream to give you this information and the bracelet."

"Where is here exactly?" said Harry, looking around with an eyebrow raised.

"The Hall of The Phoenix. It is the place where we keep the records of all the great witches and wizards of time."

"How does someone get here, I mean if Voldemort got a hold of that sword things could get really bad."

"You can only come if called."

"You wont be calling Tom Riddle up here any time soon will you?"

"No. He has been called already. He abused the Hall of the Phoenix and was forced to leave without the sword of his ancestors."

"Well I guess that it a little bit of a relief. Except the whole part where you keep talking about my destiny. What aren't I being told?"

"You will be told soon, by the last heir of Gryffindor. I believe you know him."

Things began to get a little blurry. He was waking up.

"Wait. What was your name?"

"Lena, You will be seeing me in the future I believe." She waved to him as the Hall of the Phoenix disappeared and his room at Privet Drive appeared.

Back at the Hall of the Phoenix Lena watched, sadly, as a picture appeared in the silver frame and the words Harry James Potter appeared below it. That boy would carry the weight of the world on his shoulders. She hoped he would find the family to help him with his burden.

Harry shook his head. That had to be the weirdest dream he had ever had. His eyes looked around the room. He froze. He wasn't wearing his glasses and his vision was perfect. He looked around again. His eyes opened wide and he stood stock-still. He could feel power inside him that had not been there before. The bracelet was still on his wrist. The whole 'Just a Dream' thing he had going pretty much crashed and burned.