Privet Drive was silent. A single light was on, halfway down the road. The light belonged to a boy, about 17 years of age.
Books were scattered across the room, on every available surface. Harry James Potter sat in the middle, holding his fourth year charms book. This coming year he would take his NEWTs, and as much as he hated taking a Hermione approach to it, he wanted to be ready for them.
The small clock on his nightstand rang out quietly, signalling the approach of midnight. Harry scooped up all the books that he could and placed them messily in his trunk. Letting out a sharp, silent gasp, he pulled his finger out to see it bleeding. Sticking it in his mouth, he used the other hand to pull out the object in offense. It was a shard of a mirror, in which he could see a single brown eye- wait, brown? He blinked and watched as the eye blinked back moments after he did.
Sitting on his trunk, he stroked the mirror shard, smearing it with blood. "Who are-" A hook-like feeling appeared behind his navel and he was swept away.
