I've never really tried my hand at writing before but my english teacher said i have a sort
of knack for it, I suppose it is worth a shot, after all i do like to write.

DISCLAIMER: All except for a few caracters in this story belong to JK. Rowling, no money is being made off of this story, it is soley for the entertainment of the author and the
readers

Harry was walking along a long, dark corridor in a dark dank dungeon. He expected a door or some type of chamber to apperr but none did. After about a quarter of an hour of more
walking, to no avial, He spotted a small opening in the wall at ground level, big enough for a rodent to fit through but nothing bigger. He dissmised this and began to walk agian.the deeper he walked into the dungeon the more holes he saw, he was now seeing one of these small holes almost every fifteen feet.

He continued walking, as he had no way of investigating these holes even if he wanted
to (he had thougt breifly of sticking his hand in but judged agianst it.) He heard two men
talking and saw shadowy outline of who they might be, one of them was rather short and the
other was under a cloak. He had gotten used to seeing Voldemort in his dreams long before
this but decided he would rather Voldemort diddnt see him. He searched franticaly for a way
out and tripped over what he thougt to be a rock but upon further inspection he revealed it
to be a handle for a heavy brass trap door. He pulled on it with all his might and actually
managed to heave it open. He tried to step down ito the hole but found to to have some sort
of shoot in it, he took his chances and slid down it. He fell out of the ceiling on the floor
below and took a look aroundthe room. A familiar sight met his eyee as he turned around and saw that he was standing just infront of the veil that had caused his godfathers untimley demise.

Harry Potter awoke with a start, several miles away from where he thougt he just was
he was sitting in his bed at number four Privet Drive drenched in ice cold sweat, his scar
searing with pain, threatining to split his head in two. He couldn't quite remember what he
had dreamt, all he could recall was a small hole in a wall and something having to do with
Sirius. After the agonising pain subsided he walked over to his desk and took out a quill and
a roll of parchment and began writing a letter to sirius to tell him about his scar. He had
only just remembered that Sirius was gone, his vision became blurred as his eyes filled with
tears at the thougt of his godfather.

Harry knew he had to tell somebody. His first thougt was Dumbledore but as he thougt
this he was consumed with ander at the old man. He had still not forgiven Dumledore for
being there and not saving Sirius. Harry had always thougt Dumbledore to be unflawed
and to have the ability to put everything back the right way no matter how bad the cituation
seemed to be. As he had found out the hard way though this was most definitly not the case.
He sat there for about ten minutes enraged at the man thinking "how, how could you have let him die? How could you being there not have been able to save him or stop it ever happening, you
are supposed to know these things but now I see you dont know everything you only know whatpeople are about to tell you because you know legelemincy. You act as if you know everything..anyone can do that if they took the ime to learn, and you made me beleive in you, I WILL NEVERSPEAK TO YOU AGIAN!"

After he snapped out of this paralysing anger he started to writ to the closest thing
to Sirius he had, Remus.

Dear Remus,

I can't tell you much here incase this gets intercepted. Basically the Dursleys have been thereusual old selves despite the talk we had with them and there is something very important i need to talk to you about. I expect the you know what would be interested in it as well.
Harry