~* Chapter One *~

~* The Girl in the White Dress *~

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It was late August, again. The windless, dry summer of London was drawing to a close. The eternal days of dreaded boredom were too, coming to an end for Harry Potter. As a 16 year-old boy, Harry was a little on the thin side with the same old dark, untidy hair combed in a way so that his scar was safely hidden. However, over this summer holiday, his face was starting to grow into one of a young man's and his eyes had gotten greener than ever, making him look significantly different.

Maybe it was the fact that he had been locked up in Privet Drive Number Four again, that his temper (which had turned horribly quick during his fifth year in Hogwarts), wasn't getting any better. Once every few days, he would neglect feeding Hegwig, throw books against the wall when he couldn't swallow down his frustration (devination books mostly) and stub his toe on the four corners of his school trunk which were quickly wearing out.

"I don't want to hear any noise coming from up there again, boy! Or else I'm going to kick you out of this house! I will not allow this kind of behavior in my house! You wait and see!" Uncle Vernon would yell from downstairs on such occasions.

"Careful, Vernon!" Aunt Petunia would then squeak, tea from her cup toppling onto the carpet.

But tonight, he was getting away from all this, fuss. He had decided to take a walk, purposely retracing the path he had trodden on so often one year ago. The path on which two dementors, escaped from Azkaban, had attacked Harry and his cousin. What happened that night was still so vivid in his mind, far from forgotten and it swam into his thoughts as Harry stepped out into the fresh air, closing the heavy mahogany door behind him.

Everything had happened so quickly last year that it confuses Harry sometimes. But as he cut across the lawn and stepped out onto the street, those nights of dark corridors, pens scratching onto his skin, the whispering and talking behind his back were all swimming inside his head, along with other horrible memories.

Harry's shoes crunched loudly on the cement road, echoing on the quiet street as he remembered those dark, hooded figures gliding smoothly towards him with no feet, no face. He could remember the smell of their putrid, death-cold breath and those icy fingers closing on his throat, forcing him to bow to death.

Harry walked on and into Magnolia Crescent when another thought washed over him. He had walked along that corridor many times during the night. It wasn't a nightmare, it wasn't a vision, it was an image. It had seemed so real, but it was all a dark joke, wasn't it? A little prank Voldemort had decided to play with Harry when he discovered that he could enter Harry's mind as Harry could enter his. It was all such a good idea and it succeeded. All those nights jogging and running through those corridors, all those nights wondering what was behind that door and all the other entrances, were part of the Dark Lord's scheme to murder his enemy. Yet, it wasn't Harry who died, was it?

"Sirius," Harry muttered angrily. "I killed Sirius." Guilt washed all over him, but as much as he wanted to deny it, Harry knew his Godfather's death was all his fault. He felt stupid of falling into such an obvious trap. Maybe, Hermione was right, that he has got a bit of a saving-people-thing. But the guilt didn't stay for long, thoughts of anger were spitting out of no where.

- I did save Mr. Weasley, didn't I? So it was good that I had those images, wasn't it? - Harry tried to force those words back out as he felt ashamed of them coming from him again (did he not have the same thoughts a night, one year ago?) but his anger was far too great this time. - Those people I saved wouldn't be alive now, would they (?) if it wasn't for me - A mushroom cloud of anger rose up in him, tearing at every emotion he had bottled up inside. Sweat was pouring profusely down every part of his body, from every pore. He wanted so much at that moment to yell at Dumbledore for putting him under this pressure; He had defeated the Voldemort, and what did he get? NOTHING!

"You're not the only one who can defeat him."

Harry hesitated awoken from his thoughts. His surroundings were unfamiliar to him. Here, there were no houses, the big, square brick houses were gone. All that surrounded him were clusters and clusters of trees. For a moment, Harry thought he had somehow crossed the boundary of the muggle world and into the Forbidden Forest but this thought was soon dismissed. Unlike those in the Forbidden Forest, the trees here were not thin and leaveless but positively blooming with flowers. Except one, directly infront of Harry. And from behind that one flowerless tree, stepped out a girl.

She was wearing a white dress two sizes small for her. The bow supposedly tied around the waist, was wrapped around just below her chest, untied. The hem of the dress came up to her thighs, blowing backwards in an non-existing wind. Her arms, legs and face were so pale against the growing darkness, that it almost looked transparent. To Harry, this girl who had just stepped out of the only non-blooming tree in this beautiful forest, looked odd but even the most stubborn would agree that her face was nice. Her eyes were a fascinating dark fiery red under a thick dark curtain of eyelashes. Her nose was dainty but strong and well-structured in the middle of her face, and her lips were generous but in a peculiar shade of light purple. Yet, her voice was dark and menacing when she spoke.

"You're not the only one who can defeat Voldemort. You're not the only one he wants to kill."

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A/N: Sorry, I've only done one chapter at the moment but I'll hurry up with the next one if you'll kindly review??