Disclaimer: I don't not own any Harry Potter characters they are all owned and created by the Wonderful, inspiring, intelligent J.K Rowling.

A/N: Hey, This is my new Harry potter Fan Fiction, my other one was taken off, for reasons not needed to discuss, but hopefully everyone will like this new story. I'm trying to make it as Original as possible, please forgive me, if a bit of someone else's story seeps through, it's only a compliment to the writer, for it was probably a brilliant idea. Oh, and thanks to my umm… I don't know what to call him…I'll just call him my idea maker…Lol… anyways…Yah thanks for helping me create this story…I hope you all enjoy it.

Xx Harry Potter and the Unforgettable Destiny xX

I tried to be perfect but nothing was worth it, I don't believe it makes me real. I thought it'd be easy, but no one believes me, I'm not all the things I said. If you believe it's in my soul, I said all the words that I know, just to see if it would show, that I'm trying to let you know, that I'm better off on my own – Pieces by Sum 41

Chapter 1

Xx Awake xX

In a house on Privet Drive there was a young man almost 16. He was severely thin, and he had grown a few more inches. His raven black hair had grown down just past his ears, no matter what he did to it; he never could seem to tame his hair. He had Emerald green eyes, but you couldn't see because he was sleeping. There were days when he was weak that the emerald green of his eyes almost disappear, it would be replaced with a fierce black, or shy red. This young man always hated the summer holidays; he couldn't wait to get back to school, normally. He was a wizard, but this time he just wished he didn't exist, all he wanted was to be forgotten, and to be normal. But he knew he would never get that luxury, he was the Boy-Who-Lived, and that was all he would ever be.

Harry opened his eyes to a bright flash of light seeping through his slightly parted windows. Groaning he sat up and walked over to the window. He looked out through the parting in his curtains, and he noticed there was a moving truck just down the road, curious he watched the people moving in for almost an hour till he heard his Aunts shrill voice call up the stairs.

"Harry Potter, you get down here this instant and make breakfast!" Aunt Petunia called up the stairs. Sighing once again, Harry pulled on a pair of Jeans over his boxers and went down stairs. In the kitchen Harry wasn't surprised to see so many presents piled on the kitchen table, it was Dudley's birthday today. His Aunt Petunia was glowing with pride as Dudley walked into the room. She looked at Harry "Make sure you don't burn the food" then she turned to her son and steered him over to the table.

Dudley looked at all the presents and counted every single one of them, once he was satisfied that he had more then last year he took a seat at the table. Harry rolled his eyes, he quickly grabbed a strip of bacon and ate it, and then he served everyone else. Once he was done he went back up to his room and collapsed on to his bed. His mind was somewhere else; on days like this he tended to go back to the time in the Department of Mysteries where he lost his godfather. Harry felt the tears stinging his eyes, he quickly wiped them away. Sitting up, he glanced at his parent's moving picture, he wished they were still alive, and then he would at least have family to talk to. He couldn't tell his Aunt and Uncle what happened; they wouldn't care let alone understand.

Harry pulled out his notebook, he started to keep a small Journal, that way he could put some of his thoughts down, kind of like a pensive but a lot more work. Today he was writing about a dream he had, one that he had almost every night. It started off at the Department of Mysteries, then it lead to the Veil, and then it led to some underground dungeon in a far off Mansion. The last part of the dream was what puzzled Harry the most. He had never seen it before, but there it was every night, he was locked in the dungeon, the smell of blood and vomit lingered in the air. He heard strange choking and growling noises through the thick grimy walls. He heard a clanging noise and then the bars to the dungeon opened, and a tray of some strange substance was placed on the floor, the bars were shut again, and the guard stared down at him, a mask over his face. "You better eat your food, you don't want the master to get angry…" was the cold bitter response. Then Harry woke up. He remembered it vividly every night waking up in a cold sweat, shivering in the summer heat. His scar always seemed to hurt slightly before it faded.

Harry put his notebook away and moved over to his window, the light streamed in and covered him in a warm glow. He watched as a bird swooped low in the distance; as he continued to watch, the bird began flying straight for him, he put his hand on the window ready to slam it shut, when he noticed the snow white wings of his owl. He quickly moved out of the way as Hedwig glided through the windows and landed on her perch at the side of Harry's room. Harry shut the window and turned to look at his Snowy white owl. Hedwig hooted softy at him, her white feathers rustled slightly. Harry was slightly shocked that Hedwig was flying around during the day but he shrugged it off and walked over to her. He smoothed her feathers out as he stroked her back. Harry looked down and noticed that Hedwig had stuck her leg out, and on her leg there was a note attached. Harry carefully untied the letter, and then tossed Hedwig an Owl treat. "Good girl Hedwig, now you go get some rest." He opened the letter, and quickly scanned the contents of it. He blinked back a few tears that were threatening to slide down his cheek.

Dear Harry

This is a letter that I've written quite a while ago, and if your getting it now then, obviously people have read my Will and this was sent to you, telling you that I'm dead. Hopefully I died fighting for the good side, since it was the opposite side that killed my best friends, and your parents. Over the few months that I got to know you, I've realized how much you're like your father, and me. But you have made me proud so many times, if I was to wish for anything, it would be to spend just a few more moments with you, so I could tell you how much I love you, and how proud I was to be your Godfather. Just promise me one last thing, Go after Voldemort, and get your revenge and save the wizarding world, but do not do it without training and Wisdom from your friends and teachers. I hope you understand what I'm asking you to do. I want you to live; I want you to be strong. Don't take my death as a curse; take it as another bit of strength that will help you finally kills that bastard once and for all. This is your chance, I won't think anything less of you, but I want you to know, I'm hanging out with James up here, and we're rooting for you. Keep up the strength kid.

Love your Godfather

Sirius

Harry sighed placing the letter on his nightstand, he moved his hand slightly over and it landed on his wand. He grabbed his wand and gripped it tightly. The contents of the letter were running through his mind. He wants me to promise to kill Voldemort, that's a promise I will keep. With so much determination in his eyes, he decided to get down to work.

Harry rummaged through his trunk and found some old defense books that Hermione had bought him for his birthday. He flipped through some pages and began to study. Harry heard Uncle Vernon getting ready to leave for work, sighing he laid down on his bed, and began to read the different spells that could be used in a duel. Half an hour later, Harry fell asleep the book opened on his lap to a page about shields. Aunt Petunia made her way upstairs as she cleaned her house. She knocked on Harry's door but he didn't answer, she cracked it open slightly and peeked in. What she saw was a boy of 16 sleeping with a school book opened on his lap, a small smile played across her bony face. She didn't feel any hostility towards her sister's son. He wasn't causing her trouble; she just thought it was easier to blame him then anyone else. She moved further in the room, and walking over to the bed, she took the book as gently as possible and marked it, then placed it on the side table. Grabbing the blanket that was about to fall of the bed, she covered Harry and hoped that he didn't wish harm upon them for the way that they treated him. It wasn't there fault, they were told to keep him safe and to not pamper him but make him stronger. That was the only way they could think of, not let him know who he was, and to not let him know that they really did care about him. It worked so far, he hasn't been hurt from any witch or Wizard whenever he was here.

Harry slept fitfully that day, after Aunt Petunia left, Harry started to groan and kick at the covers. He was in the Dungeon again, this time it was a lot different.

Harry let the tears fall as he looked out through the cold bars. He felt weak and gross from all the blood and dirt that covered his body. He was still shocked that he hadn't thrown up yet. It would fit in so well with the way he felt right about now. He pushed himself off the bars and looked down at the food tray that was pushed into this hell hole three times a day. He always refused to eat it, but he knew he couldn't keep it up for long. He was getting weaker and sicker everyday; there was nothing he could do. Everything that was left in him told him to not eat the food, so he didn't. The guards watched him, sneered at him, laughed at him, Harry felt so helpless and weak. He noticed that the guards changed there post every hour and that there was only one guard who wouldn't look at him. He noticed the balding hair when he took his hood off, and he noticed the height compared to the other guards, he was much shorter and fatter then the rest. Harry recognized him, it was Wormtail. So Harry started to make a plan, he needed to find a way out for the next hour. Harry began to make plans in his head until everything around him dissolved. He was standing in front of a high backed chair, the back of which was facing him. The man in the chair was staring at the fire, Harry couldn't see him. There was a snake that continued to crawl around the legs of the chair. It would look up at Harry every time it faced him and hiss in his direction. A death eater put there hands on Harry's shoulders and steered him towards the chair and the man with his back to him. Harry had a feeling of dread to see the man in that chair, but also bits of curiosity too see what would happen. He felt the heat from the fire, when he was close enough to the man. Looking up he saw the red eyes of Voldemort staring back at him, his hand flew to his scar as she felt it explode.

Harry woke up screaming, his hand was clamped around his scar. It was burning strongly and when he pulled his hand away, there was a small trace of blood, the scar had opened up. Harry climbed out of bed, and stumbled to the bathroom, he washed his face, letting the blood disappear down the drain. Harry looked at himself in the mirror and noticed how pale his skin had gotten. He ran over to the toilet just before he up chucked everything that was in his stomache (which wasn't much). Wiping his mouth on the back of his hand he walked back over to the sink and let the warm water run over his hands before he collected it in his hands and splashed it on his face. When he was on his way back to his room, Aunt Petunia walked out of her room, and one glance at him, told her everything. She quickly ushered him downstairs and began to cook him some foods that would be able to settle in his stomache. Then while she let it cook, she grabbed a damp cloth and started to dab at his face. Harry was too shocked and too tired to even refuse her help.

Aunt Petunia continued to fuss over Harry. She knew that it wasn't natural for her to show she cared, but she couldn't just stand by while her nephew slowly died, being consumed by dreams and horrid memories. Once she cleaned up the blood that was coming from his scar, she dished out his food, and watched him eat until she was satisfied that he was fed to his full capacity without being sick again, she steered him back up the stairs and put him straight back to bed, she made sure he was well covered. She went to the bathroom, and going through the Medicine cabinet she found some medication that might help him get some proper sleep, she rushed back into the room, and gave him a spoon full. Then without saying anything she turned around and left the room, closing the door behind her. She went down stairs and busied herself with cleaning the house once more.

Harry watched his Aunt leave, still slightly shocked at her caring manner. Once the medicine kicked in, Harry began to drift in and out of consciousness.