Welcome! This story is inspired by, well most unfortunately, a personal ah, situation I'm going through. But at the same time I'm sure lots of stories have all been written along similar lines and whatnot…just trying to put my own little emotional twist into it. So...apologies if this sounds similar to any stories out there! I'm not trying to steal anything! And of course the recognizeable characters and the whole freaking magical world and everything that comes with it (also the muggle world…well, sorta. I mean…she didn't exactly invent the world…she's a goddess of writing...but yea...) of Rowling herself are not mine, clearly. Don't sure me for the love of god, I'm a poor university student who already owes heaps of money. I'm writing this disclaimer once, so…yea. Story is set in 5th year, it really doesn't follow the books much at all…e.g. Ministry isn't interfering at Hogwarts/Umbridge the devil woman isn't teaching. It might follow some parallels but for the most part nah. Haven't decided whether the horocruxes will be key later on...I plan on having this story contine on for a bit. I'm going to try to update often, but I do get busy with all this…learning…and social activities of the university life so don't be hatin'! There'll probably be OCC since I doubt I can write the characters right lol and ye! We shall see where this takes us shall we:)

A fifteen year old boy with tousled jet back hair and a curiously shaped lightning bolt scar on his forehead tossed and turned as nightmares of the past and future merged together in his head trapping him with no escape.

He was standing in a forest. In the distance he heard the sounds of a battle raging, the screams of the innocent, the laughter of the damned, the bellows of curses as voices overlapped and overwhelmed him from where he stood miles away.

He had to go, had to find the battle and help.
He began to run.
Trees blurred by him as he ran, desperately trying to get to the front lines and help. He stopped for a moment, and looked around at the clearing he came to. No…it couldn't be…he shook his head in a daze and took off again through the forest heading in a different direction this time.
Thirty seconds later or so he hit another clearing. This time he stopped and looked around, confusion evident on his face. It looked like the same clearing he started in…and…the same one that he just came from…but that couldn't be right, it didn't make sense! He felt an anxious sort of fear rise up in him….he had to get to the battle but he couldn't seem to. No matter what direction he ran he always came back to this place.
"Coward. It's so typical of you to be running away from a battle you're suppose to be in."
He spun around, looking for the source of the voice. It seemed familiar but…it didn't make sense…not that anything was making much sense at the moment.
"Always letting others die in your place eh? James, Lily, Cedric, Seamus, Sirius, Remus, Dumbledore, Ron, Myself… I suppose others must die so that you may live your pathetic excuse of a life…is that right?"
He gripped his wand tighter to stop his trembling hand. "Show yourself!" He yelled. His gaze widened as they did.
"No…" he whispered as the bloodied faces of Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger emerged from the dark, staring stonily at him. "I didn't mean for it…I didn't…I tried...I…" he stuttered.
Their glares cut him deep.
"You should have stayed away from us so that we might have had a chance to live too, murderer," they said in unison, their voices quiet but sure. He visibly flinched at their words and tone.
"I don't understand," he whispered. "Why…what…it wasn't my fault…you guys know that…please, I need you…I need you…"
"Then prove your worth and sacrifice yourself to make up for the blood being shed in your honour," Ron said, sneering at the word 'honour'.
"But I can't…I tried…I can't find the battle…I'm trying! I'M TRYING!" He yelled, his eyes wide, searching desperately for understanding in their gazes. He found none.
"Just like you 'tried' to save us?" Hermione asked. The moonlight shone on her face and reflected off with a crimson glow. "The trying has to stop sometime and the doing has to start. Surely you know that."
The forest began to darken as the screams grew louder. He sank to his knees in the middle of the clearing.
"I tried. I tried. I tried. I tried. I tried to save you. I tried to save you all...I couldn't I...I..." he babbled, tears forming in his eyes but never falling.
"You would start to cry, that's right, go ahead…cry…because that's going to bring everybody back isn't it?" Ron spat at him.
The dark that surrounded the outlines of Ron and Hermione grew more defined as they walked towards him. The dark began enveloping the whole clearing.
"Nobody cares Harry Potter. You failed us, you have failed them, and you have failed the world. You are nothing." Hermione spoke slowly, putting a deliberate emphasis on each word as she walked closer.
"Nooo…" He murmured to himself, curling up in a ball trying to shield himself from their verbal onslaught. He grew cold as the dark swirled closer. All he could see were the bloody faces of his former best friends. The screams grew louder; a wind picked up and began howling and swirling around the solitary figure huddled on the ground. He felt himself becoming consumed. At first he fought it, but as the words "you are nothing" rippled through his head…he gave up, wanting the dark to take him.
The sounds and dark overwhelmed him. He was almost completely gone…but then a single voice called out of the dark…"Harry…"
 He ignored it.
"Harry…Harry!"
He convinced himself it was a figure of his already fucked imagination…he had already given his hope to the dark…he had nothing left in him...he was nothing…
"Grab it Harry, grab my hand…"
He shook his head and curled up even tighter.
"Come on Harry, I know you can do it."
He began rocking back and forth, the voices of a red head and bushy haired girl echoing in his mind…nothing…nothing…nothing…
"HARRY JAMES POTTER YOU ARE NOT NOTHING! DON'T YOU EVER GIVE UP! HOLD ONTO MY HAND AND NEVER LET GO!"
A blinding light suddenly enveloped him causing his eyes to snap open and stare at the hand in front of his face…

Harry Potter awoke with a start gasping for breath. He fumbled blindly in the darkness for his glasses. After finding them, he surveyed the room he was in and calmed down. He was "home".
He couldn't turn on the light since his cousin Dudley Dursley and his gang thought it would be funny to steal all the lightbulbs in the house and throw them at passing cars. Not that his Aunt Petunia or Uncle Vernon knew it was their precious "Diddykins" who was the ringleader of the vandalism that had been steadily growing all summer long, but whatever.
Harry was exhausted. He was no stranger to nightmares, but this one was particularly unsettling. Since arriving at number four Privet Drive for his yearly summer torture Harry had been having the same dream over and over. Sometimes it varied with other people he loved blaming him for everything, but the worst was when it was Ron and Hermione, his two best friends. The dreams always had him in a forest trying to run to a battle that he could never find. It would then switch to verbal abuse from loved ones and an angel (it was the only description he could really use) would show up, offer his or her hand and he would wake up. Not as terrifying as the nightmares he had also been having of the incident during last years school year of Cedric Diggory, a classmate, being killed at the hands of the recently re-born Dark Lord, these dreams still seemed to have put a huge weight in his chest. It was like watching his deepest fears come true every night.
Harry spent his days in a constant debate with himself. Sometimes the logic thinking part of him, the…well, a friend did die last year and you survived, surely you're a threat to your friends safety now…it's only plausible that they would walk away from you to keep themselves out of harm… would win, resulting in Harry feeling horribly alone and scared for the remainder of the day. Other times, the logical "heart" part of him would counter…your friends aren't that daft. They're true friends who've stuck with you through a lot these last 4 years, you have no need to worry about them leaving now… and he'd feel more at peace.
Harry knew his friends. They would never drop him even if there was danger involved. But he had been so wound up by the nightmares that he had been writing weekly letters to them to settle his unease about how they might feel about him. He figured if they took the time to respond they clearly weren't upset with him. And they did. From what Harry could judge by their informative and enthusiastic responses, everything was normal as always. For that, Harry was grateful.
Still sitting up in his bed, he grabbed a small flashlight from under his bed that he managed to steal from his fat cousins room and did what had become a nightly routine for him. Reaching beside him, Harry grabbed a stack of parchment and one by one, using the light of the flashlight, he read through his friends letters while telling himself that they did care, that they weren't mad at him, that his dreams were predicting nothing, and that everything was still going to be okay.