Title: A Prophesy of a Peculiar Sort

Summary: Through his dreams, Harry finds out he is destined to lead a peculiar life. Post-Voldemort. SLASH!!! I'm not revealing the couples yet, so if you have any objection to non-book pairings, don't read. R&R if you're interested, though

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. So ha! On with the show!!!!!

Chapter 1: The Dream

Harry was dreaming.

He had figured out he was dreaming very quickly by the fact that he was looking at himself from another person's point of view. His dream self seemed to know the script, so Harry tagged along, wondering what was going on. They walked down a familiar yet strange Hogwarts corridor side by side.

The dreaming Harry was just starting to wonder where Hermione and Ron were when a long-fingered hand grabbed the shoulder of the other Harry and roughly wheeled him around to face the owner of said hand. The dreaming Harry stopped and turned to see –

"Harry! Wake up, rise and shine, whatever; just get your lazy arse out of bed!" Ron bellowed in Harry's ear. Harry awoke with a start, sending his friend a dirty look.

"What, am I late?" Harry asked with a yawn, placing his black rimmed glasses neatly on his nose.

"No." Ron said, and with that, he walked out of the room in the direction of breakfast. Harry groaned, but knew it was too late to try to get more sleep. He stifled another yawn and got dressed quickly in order to get to breakfast. He made his way to the Gryffindor table and sat next to his friends Ron and Hermione. Harry buttered himself a piece of toast before turning to Hermione.

"Morning, Hermione." He said. She smiled warmly at him.

"Hello, Harry. Did you have that dream last night?" She asked. Harry could practically feel all the Gryffindor eyes on him. He smiled back and nodded.

"Yeah, but it stopped where it did last time. Right before I see whose hand it is." He said, and the eyes turned back to their breakfasts. The truth was, Harry had been having this same dream for a couple weeks, and almost everyone wanted to know who this elusive long-finger-handed person was. Hermione shrugged.

"Maybe next time." She said encouragingly. Then she stood up, shouldered her bag, and went off in the direction of her first class. Harry sighed.

"Maybe I might have seen it if someone hadn't bellowed in my ear this morning." Harry said, turning a suggestive eye to Ron.

"Step off." He said and Harry chuckled before heading to his class.

The day went by as almost every day had gone by for the past few weeks. He went to his classes, he got homework, he got questioned about his dream, and he went to his common room for the night. The Slytherins snickered at him, the Ravenclaws turned a nose at him, except for Luna, of course, the Hufflepuffs fled from him, and his fellow Gryffindors were nice to him, but Harry had been feeling a little like a person on the outside looking in. He really didn't have a purpose to life anymore, now that Voldemort was dead, except to find out who the person with the long-fingered hand was. He knew that, pretty soon, the attention he was gaining from his strange dream would run out and, as much as he hated himself for it, he was desperate to keep the suspense going. Maybe Snape, rest his soul, had been right about him. Maybe he was an attention-seeking, arrogant teenage boy with nothing to shoot for. But maybe that was all about to change with one night where the dream went beyond the hand…

To be continued…

A/N: Sorry for the cliffy!!! But the next chap is already up, so you're fine