Hello! This is my first ever fan fic. story – am well excited! Hopefully you will like it! Please leave your comments – good and bad are appreciated!

Thanks must go to my BETA and good friend AllylovesHarry – without her I so could not have done this! So go and read her story's quick (after this one of course!) they're amazing!

Harry Potter and the Mystery of What Is To Come

The dark night sky was spotted with crystal stars, blinking down on the earth. The moon glowed a bright white, leaving a luminous shadow down the streets and alleyways. Bugs chirped and played there night-time tunes as the late night settled in. A boy was restlessly awake, reliving things no one could even imagine living once through. Though, he lived through a lot of things many could never and would never live through. A thin lighting bolt shaped scar on his forehead proved that he was no ordinary sixteen year old boy.

Harry Potter stared out of his bedroom window down onto the well-kept blooming gardens of Number Four Privet Drive. The hedges were all neatly trimmed to perfection, the lawns freshly mowed into the lines Mr. Dursely had always made,– it all seemed too perfectly simple for Harry, he needed some untidiness, some chaos; he needed to be back at the Burrow. The place where his family was, and the place where he felt completely content. A place he could have other things to keep him occupied and busy other than his dreadful thoughts. Harry needed to get rid of the memories of last year, the memories of death and destruction, of distrust and horror.

It was two a.m., but Harry was wide awake sitting on his desk next to the window. Visions and memories kept flowing back into his mind. Insomnia had taken over ever since the battle, because he was not able to get out of his head the image of Sirius' body falling, backwards through the ragged veil hanging from the arch in the Department of Mysteries. A tear fell silently down his cheek, leaving a wet trail under his glasses and down to his soft hand lying on his lap. All of the emotions that he had acquired over the summer threatened to burst out, making it even more difficult to cope with it. However, a movement in the sky diverted his attention form the pain in his heart. His sparkling emerald green eyes stared intently into the darkness, seeking out the thing that had caught his attention.

As the thing, that he now knew was a creature, approached Harry, he just knew it was an owl. As it glided over a street lamp, the light illuminated its body and he recognised the familiar markings; it was none other than his owl, Hedwig. Harry hastened to open his bedroom window, letting his exhausted friend inside. Having no idea as to who would be writing to him, he stared at the envelope curiously. His best friends, Ron and Hermione, had just sent him lengthy letters the day before. Who else did he know that would send him a letter?

It could have been Remus...no he wouldn't be in the writing mood. Maybe Hagrid? Or maybe, just maybe it was Ginny? No of course not, don't be silly. We aren't that close. Harry told himself, cursing the thought ever coming in his head. Though, he couldn't help imagining Ginny writing to him. Her long scarlet hair draped over the parchment, shining all of its different shades as it caught the light. The little freckled nose scrunched up in concentration as she wrote...WAIT! What am I doing? He didn't think of Ginny in that way, in anyway for that matter. She was Ron's sister for goodness sake, it would be wrong...or would it be? How did he get on the subject of Ginny in the first place? Oh yes, the letter.

"Ow! Ruddy bird." Harry was jolted back into reality by Hedwig, who was impatiently digging her talons into his shoulder. Stroking her feathers tenderly, he made sure she wasn't mad or disgusted at him. After a thankful chirp, he unwound the crumpled piece of parchment from her leg. Desperate to know who was writing to him, he quickly unravelled it. Throwing the ribbon aside and throwing the paper in front of the light, he sat down in his chair. With a quick scan, not really reading the writing, his eyes were quickly drawn to the base of the letter. A loopy signature was scrawled carefully at the bottom. His eyes contracted in puzzlement, confusion and curiosity. Why would they be writing me? There has to be some kind of emergency for a letter from them? What could be happening now?

Turning away from the parchment, the hurt filled him once again. He wasn't sure he wanted to read this letter. It could bring even more pain and dread and he wasn't strong enough for that. Though, it also could bring good news. Pacing back and forth in his small dingy room, he sat on the sunken bed. Running both of his hands through his untidy raven black hair, he sighed in frustration. Deciding there was only one certain way to find what was written in the letter, he stood back up. Crossing the room slowly, he relentlessly sat back down at his desk chair.

"Here we go..."

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