Author notes:

After reading far too many fanfics on one day I couldn't sleep and this story popped into my head and wouldn't leave me alone. I'm still not entirely sure where to it's heading and I probably shouldn't put this on the internet before I do, but I simply couldn't wait.

This is my very first story and will no doubt have a lot of mistakes, especially spelling and grammar mistakes as English is not my native language. So please, if you read this story, review! I really want to improve my writing but for that I need your opinion, and please don't just tell me it sucks but tell me why and how I can improve it.

Thanks!

I don't own Harry Potter, it belongs to J.K Rowling. I'm not making any profit, yada yada yada. This story is a continuation of the fifth book and disregards book six.

1. Nightmares and visions

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"Is that the best you can do?"

The man stood proud and defiantly while he mocked the woman in front of him. But his expression quickly changed to shock and confusion when the woman hurled another hex at him, slamming across his chest.

For a moment the world seemed to freeze as the man stumbled at the edge of dead.

Then he toppled backwards.

As in slow motion he fell through the sinister looking veil, eyes still wide and confused. His mouth seemed to form a strangled scream, before he disappeared forever.

"SIRIUS! NO! SIRIUS!"

"SHUT UP, YOU LITTLE FREAK! Decent people are trying to sleep here!"

Harry Potter sat up with a start as his uncle gave another loud "BANG!" on the door to make his point.

Harry's breath came out in short uneven gasps and he looked wildly around, as if expecting something to come leaping out of the shadows and attack him. He put his hands against his thumping heart and tried desperately to calm down. Tears were starting to prickle in his eyes and he quickly turned around and buried his head in his pillow.

He would not cry. He would not cry.

He punched his pillow as hard as possible, he would not cry, dammit!

Vaguely he heard his uncle go back to bed, muttering about ungrateful brats disrupting his much needed sleep.

It had been 4 days. 4 days since he last saw his friends. 4 days since his last decent meal.

4 days since his uncle had locked him up in his bedroom again, claiming it was for Harry's own safety.

Only 4 days from the long, long summer holiday had passed, and already he was losing his mind.

His desk was littered with sympathetic and concerned letters from his friends. He hadn't even bothered to read them yet, let alone reply, even though he knew he should. Not only to stop the Order of the Phoenix from sending someone to check up on him, but also to tell Dumbledore about the strange things he had been seeing lately.

Strange flashes of something that never made any sense and were steadily followed by an head splitting headache. It had happened three times now, at random moments of the day, each lasting a little bit longer. His scar didn't hurt afterwards but still Harry was pretty damn sure it had something to do with Voldemort.

There was a rustling sound coming from the window and when Harry looked up he saw his faithful owl Hedwig flying in gracefully.

"Hey girl," he whispered, "You've got another letter for me?"

Hedwig nipped his finger affectionately and dropped a crumpled piece of parchment on Harry's lap.

Harry sighed as he looked at the parchment, he knew he was being rather selfish, the least he could do was let them know he was alright. He owed that to his friends, especially after the mess he made in the department of mysteries.

He quickly unrolled the parchment before his thoughts would stray in that particular direction again.

The letter was short and to the point.

Harry James Potter!

If you won't respond to this letter right away,

I will find a way to come over to your place

and throttle you!

Love, Hermione

Harry smiled slightly at the threat, still it wasn't really something he expected Hermione to write, she must be really agitated.

Hedwig stared sternly at him with her big amber eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, I'll have to answer her."

He made his way over to his desk, but before he reached it his knees buckled and the room started to spin around and around with a sickening feeling of recognition.

Bright colors and dancing lights

A tree

A big tree, looming over him

It was green

Green with red

Red blood trickling down

A voice

A tender loving voice

Whispering

"You look good in red"

A child laughing

No

Not laughing

Crying

Crying in the cold

So so cold...

He was lying on the the floor.

When he tried to get up he was struck with such an intense headache he fell back down.

Groaning pitifully he curled up and buried his head in his hands. The pain seemed to worsen every time.

After a while the headache faded to just a dull throbbing pain and he managed to get up, using his desk as support. Blearily he grabbed a piece of parchment and managed to scribble something down before he collapsed on the bed. He knew it would take at least an hour before he would be able to move around normally again. These visions or whatever they were, always sapped all his energy.

"Can you bring that to Dumbledore?" He asked his owl, nodding in the direction of his desk, too worn out to even raise his arm and point.

At Hedwig's confirming hoot he finally allowed himself to fall in a deep sleep.