Disclaimer: The characters and world of Harry Potter belong to J.K. Rowling. I wrote this fan fiction as a complement to her. All fan fics are because if we weren't fans, we wouldn't be writing them!
Summary: Harry Potter is about to start his 7th year at Hogwarts, but he has a few surprises before he goes. First, is his birthday present. Then Ron needs help with a relationship. In addition, Harry meets the "new girl" at Hogwarts. She could be the best or worst thing to ever happen to him.
Chapter 1A cold, evil, high-pitched laugh filled his ears.
"Choose or the choice will be made."
He stared at the three people in front of him, all of their faces contorted with pain. The pain that they felt was nothing compared to the agony and despair that he was experiencing. His head felt as if was splitting in two. He looked down the line of people in front of him. His heart was aching for each of them. The first was a redheaded, freckled, and had big brown eyes. The second had brown eyes and long, bushy brown hair. The last had golden brown hair that fell to the shoulders and had the bluest eyes he had ever seen.
All of them were pleading with him, "You son of a… Harry you know what to do," "Be strong, Harry…" "Don't listen to him!" All of their voices echoed in his mind. He looked into each person's eyes. He had a strong connection to each of them. How could he possibly make a choice?
The cold, evil voice spoke again, "You have taken up too much time! Make your choice NOW!" A sense of hopelessness filled him as he looked at each person. He could not make a choice.
"No? Well then, I get to choose! Yes, I know. Her!" The cold voice indicated the girl with the blue eyes and honey hair.
"Say goodbye…"
"Harry, please!"
"Avada Kedavra!"
"No!"
Harry Potter woke up with a start, the words still echoing in his ears. He must have screamed them out-loud. He waited a while as his heart slowed to its normal rhythm and the pain in his head subsided. Harry tried to move, but he was tangled in his sheets. After several minutes of twisting and pulling, he was free.
Pushing his unruly, black hair out off his sweaty face and putting on his glasses, Harry walked over to the window and looked out at the early hints of the sun. The houses surrounding Number 4, Privet Drive were washed with the reddish orange of the dawn. Harry sat down and watched the sun as it rose in the sky. Hedwig, having just come in from her nightly hunt, perched down beside him, and Harry absentmindedly stroked her, while thinking about the dream. He had been having that dream ever since he returned from his sixth year at Hogwarts. One of the things he was most afraid of was someone close to him dying and that he could do nothing about it. This fear began after he had watched his godfather, Sirius die by the hands of a Death Eater in his fifth year. It escalated when Harry tried to save Hagrid, last year, but he couldn't get to him in time. The same death eater that killed Sirius killed his friend and mentor of six years. Every night there was a different group of people, all very close to him, but tonight's dream unsettled him up like none of the others had. He knew two of the three faces in tonight's dream, but the third was a mystery. The redhead with freckles was Ron Weasley. Ron was one of Harry's best friends and they had been that way ever since their first year train ride to Hogwarts. The girl with the long bushy brown hair and brown eyes was Hermione Granger, his other best friend. She had been Ron's and his friend since the middle of their first year. The girl with the blue eyes and honey hair was a mystery to him although when he had looked at her he felt the strongest link between them. It was a very different feeling, one he had never experienced before. One thing he did know was that if he had to watch one of them die, it would be the most painful thing. He didn't know if he could get over it. He was already depressed because Hagrid and Sirius, two of the people he had come to depend on, were gone. If Hermione, Ron, or the mystery girl died… He didn't want to dwell on it.
He knew to whom the cold, evil voice belonged. After six years of coming up against him, Harry should know who he was. Lord Voldemort had killed his parents when Harry was very young. His followers, the Death Eaters, had killed many people in his name. Harry's future depended on Lord Voldemort's future. He knew that one of them would have to die, but, Harry thought grimly, but determinedly, it won't be me. He knew this would happen because of a prophecy told to him by the headmaster of Hogwarts and a good friend of his parents, Professor Dumbledore. "… And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives…"
The sun was now a brilliant yellow-orange. Harry got up and started dressing for the day. He pushed his Hogwart's trunk out of the way and opened his dresser. He pulled on jeans that were becoming too short because he had finally grown; he was now 6'0". He was just putting on a shirt that was a little to snug (he had been preparing for his final Quidditch season by working out) when a loud, angry voice called from downstairs.
"POTTER! GET DOWN HERE! NOW!" yelled Harry's Uncle Vernon.
"What does he want? I didn't do anything," muttered Harry. He opened his bedroom door and walked down the stairs very slowly, just to make his uncle even angrier. He sauntered into the kitchen where his uncle, aunt, and cousin were huddled into a corner. They all had looks of angry fear etched across their faces.
"What?" asked Harry.
"SURPRISE!"
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~