People once believed that when someone dies, a crow carries their soul to the land of the dead. But sometimes, something so bad happens that a terrible sadness is carried with it and the soul can't rest. Then sometimes, just sometimes, the crow can bring that soul back to put the wrong things right.
Harry's life had never been that great. From the beginning he was destined to misery. He was just leaving the Hogwarts Express after his fifth year. His godfather Sirius Black had been killed by his deranged cousin Bellatrix. And as if that wasn't enough just hours afterwards Dumbledore had told him that it was his destiny to face Voldemort whether he wanted to or not. To top things off his uncle hadn't even come to pick him up. He was forced to take the Knight Bus. Little did they know that Stan Shunpike would be the last person to see him alive.
He arrived soaking wet. He had asked Ernie if he could just drop him off at the end of the street so as not to make the Dursleys look 'out of the ordinary'. Unfortunately it was raining so hard it was mere second before he was soaked. He should have noticed the omen and normally would have had his mind not been focused on Sirius. Though had he been aware of the things around him he would have noticed Vernon standing in the doorway with the frying pan. He would have noticed when he raised it. And he would have run when he realized what was happening. Unfortunately he didn't and Vernon though obviously drunk didn't miss. The last thing that Harry saw was a bright flash before he passed out both from the blow and the pain it caused.
When Harry woke up he was tied to something. We wasn't sure what it was mainly because someone had taken his glasses. He tried to think back to what had happened to land him in this spot. The last thing that he remembered was his uncle standing in the doorway. Thats when it hit him. Both literally and figuratively. His uncle was the cause for all this. He knew that the man was capable of a lot but this was a little much even for him. But there was no doubting the evidence around him. Just then the door opened and as he feared his uncle was standing there.
"It's all your fault boy. It has to be." he could hear and smell the alcohol on his breath. This was bad. He knew his uncle and from the way that he was talking it looked like he had lost it. "She left me and it was all your fault. She said that she couldn't handle the abuse anymore and left. Took Dudders with her. But I know the truth. You used yourFreak craft on her didn't you." Vernon was standing over him now holding what could have only been a knife of some sorts. It was at this point that Harry knew that he was going to die. Not at the hands of some psycho Death eater. Not at the hands of Voldemort. No he would die at the hands of the man that Dumbledore trusted with his safety for the past 14 years.
His uncle raised the knife above his head. Holding it with both hands Harry could make out the smile of satisfaction on his face. "This isn't how I was suppose to die. What about the prophecy. What about all the people that are willing to give their lives to make sure that I finish my destiny. I have to protect them. I have to avenge Sirius. I can't die..." the rest of Harry's frantic whispers were masked as blood pooled into his lungs. He began to cough and wretch trying to clear a path so that he might be able to breath but it was useless. He was dead and he knew it. He had let everyone down. As the last of his power left his body a crow cawed outside his window as if it were waiting for this to happen.
