He was walking down a street he both did and didn't know.
Several people were with him.
Suddenly there were flashes of light and loud screams.
Dark hooded figures materialized out of nowhere.
They shouldn't be here!
Then he was struck from behind...

"Harry! Harry, wake up!" Someone was shaking him. He opened his eyes blearily and saw Ron bent over him, half-dressed.

"Wuzzgoinon?"

"You were dreaming, mate," Ron said, as he finished getting dressed. "That's the third time this week. You'd better get dressed, we're leaving soon." He left the room to get some breakfast. Harry put his head in his hands and tried to remember his dream. All summer he had been having strange dreams that didn't seem to be his, and they all had strong emotions like anger or joy. Or terror, like last night's.

"Harry, hurry up, Mum says breakfast's ready!" Ron called from downstairs, and Harry groaned, got up, and started looking for socks.

When Harry got downstairs, he saw that he was the last one there. All nine Weasleys, plus Hermione, were already in the kitchen. "Hurry up and eat, dear, you have to leave soon," Mrs. Weasley said, putting a plate of pancakes, bacon, and eggs in front of him, but Harry just took a piece of toast. He wasn't hungry. Hermione noticed and frowned.

"Is everyone ready? Then let's go," Mr. Weasley said, and everyone got up and waited by the door for Mrs. Weasley to say goodbye.

"Have a lovely time, dears," she said, hugging them all. As they set off, Hermione and Ron slowed to walk next to Harry at the back.

"Ron says you dreamed again last night," Hermione said, looking worried. "Can you remember anything?"

Harry thought hard. "No, noth- wait! I was in a city that I had never seen before and yet it was familiar, with people I both did and didn't know. But mostly I remember the terror."

Hermione looked happy. "That's great, Harry! That's more than you've ever remembered before!"

"Yes," Harry said slowly. "The trouble is, they're not my memories. It's like I'm in someone else's mind. And I'm pretty sure it's a girl."

"Why a girl?" Ron asked, nearly tripping because he was looking at Harry.

"I dunno... girls think differently than guys."

"You bet we do," Hermione broke in, rolling her eyes. "But that's not the point. The point is that Harry's remembered more than he ever has before. If he keeps having them, he might remember all of it soon." Harry didn't say anything. But what if I don't want to remember? True, he was curious about who the person was, but at the same time, they were someone else's memories, and he didn't want to pry.

"Come on, you three!" Mr. Weasley called from up ahead. "Let's get a move on, shall we? We've got a long way to go before we reach the Quidditch World Cup!"

The Quidditch World Cup was like nothing Harry had ever seen before. Witches and wizards were everywhere, zooming by on brooms, calling greetings to each other, and generally having a great time. When Mr. Weasley needed someone to go get water, Harry volunteered quickly, wanting to see more of the camp. As he walked along, he looked around for people he knew.

"Ow!" He said as someone collided with him, knocking him down. He rolled over and saw a tall, slim girl with long black hair and bright green eyes standing above him.

"Sorry about that," she said, giving him a hand up. "Though thanks for breaking my fall, it would have hurt a lot if I had hit the ground." She smiled, showing dimples. "I got knocked off my broom."

"Don't worry about it," Harry said, liking this girl immediately. "It's happened to me many times."

The girl suddenly shot him a startled look. "You're Harry Potter." It was not a question.

Harry sighed. "Yes, I am."

The girl smiled. "That's great! My name's Rennati Forester, Renna to my friends." She held out her hand. Harry shook it.

"Obviously you already know who I am, so I don't have to introduce myself. Do you go to Hogwarts? I've never seen you before, but you speak English very well."

"No, I don't; I go to Beauxbatons Academy of Magic, in France. My parents are English though, which is why I speak it so well."

"Do you like to fly?" Harry asked, looking at her broom. It was a Firebolt, one of the best brooms in the world. Renna laughed.

"That's an understatement. Though that reminds me, I have to pay back that brother of mine for knocking me off."

"Ha!" A voice shouted, and Harry looked up to see a boy a few years older than himself hovering overhead. He called something in French to Renna, who laughed and took off. She circled overhead.

"It was nice talking to you, Harry Potter!" She called, before streaking after her brother, yelling something in French. Harry watched them go, then remembered that he was supposed to be getting water for tea.