Prologue

Though it was the middle of the night, the green-eyed boy couldn't sleep. Instead he sat in the common room staring at the fire. He just had it out with that Mudblood hours before and he still ached from her hex. He was still offended that she even had a wand, she was a muggleborn, she had no right to carry the tool of a wizard.

Harry sighed as he ran his fingers through his black hair as he watched the fire. He was in his seventh and final year at Hogwarts. He couldn't wait to graduate and escape London. He grew tired of hearing of the Dark Lord rising again, and refused to join his side.

Sure Harry was bitter, angry, and downright vain, but he never forgot why he spent most his summers at his friends manor, or why he had no parents to enjoy the holiday with. The Dark Lord took his parents, and Harry would never serve him. It upset his best friend, and his parents, but Harry wouldn't budge. Draco and his family made their choice, and he made his. Lucius often encouraged Harry to join, saying the Dark Lord had plans for Harry, special plans. Harry didn't see why though. He was just a boy, there was no need for the Dark Lord to want him above others.

He sighed. He knew he ought to be in bed, yet he couldn't sleep. He had classes in the morning, but he just stopped caring. In his years at this school, he had grown bored. He was tired of the same old and decided to start picking fights with other students. That was how he got in a duel with Mudblood Granger. He told her she deserved to rot in the Chamber Of Secrets with that red-headed wench, Weasley. Her kind were only good for one thing, dying. He hadn't expected Hermione to take lightly to that, and he was right. As soon as the words left his mouth, she had her wand out and hexed him. For a disgusting muggle born, she could certainly hex.

Finally deciding it was time to head up to his dorm and try to sleep, the boy stood up. As he headed up the stairs and to the dorm he shared with four others he heard loud snoring. He groaned and placed a pillow over Blaize Zabini's head. The dark boy rolled over, and once again started snoring. Harry wondered how he hadn't gone insane yet.

He laid in bed, and like every night his mind wondered. He had noticed a change the end of last year as Dumbledore, the cooky headmaser died. It seemed as if all eyes were always on him, as if all mouths spoke encouragement to join the dark side, and as if all ears were always listening. He wasn't sure what it was all about, but he disliked it. He was Harry James Potter, Slytherin chaser and prefect. He was on occasion romantically involved with Ayesha Cobbergerden, a pretty sixth year Ravenclaw. He was good at potions, charms, and transfiguration. He was best friends with Draco Malfoy. He was a lot of things, but he was not a Death Eater. That was something he refused to become.

Lately he'd been having nightmares. He hated them. He often dreamt of war, death and misery. Each and every night he'd dream of a war, and pain and misery in his life. He never saw much, but he knew enough. He knew repetitive dreams were like a glance into the future. He now knew there would be misery and pain in his life. He wanted anything but that. He wanted things to be simple and peaceful once he escaped Voldemort. Yet, with each passing night the hope of peace seemed like a distant light.

He yawned once before rolling over, his green eyes closed. It only took seconds for him to fall into a deep slumber.

AN:

Sorry for the shortness. Chapter One will be longer.

This is my new fic. More or less, Harry is a Slytherin. Bella helped me with it. She's my muse for this story. I love her dearly for this idea. Review please? LOL. Till next time.

Love, Steff.