Sorry, I'm not a very good writer, feel free to critique! This is the prologue, I hope you guys stay tuned and watch for chapter 1!

It had started out as normal day.

Harry, as an auror, finished his work of getting rid of a few boggarts and trolls. He apparated into his house where he and Ginny lived.

As usual.

Harry greeted Ginny and sat down to eat dinner. As he waited, he thought about his work.

As usual.

But then, suddenly, a familiar pain that brought horrible memories came to him. His forehead hurt. Harry's lightning bolt shaped scar was throbbing yet again.

"What!" Harry thought, his hand over his forehead. "My scar hasn't hurt since ten years ago!"

Ginny, worried, asked Harry: "Are you alright, dear?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Harry replied. But he knew he wasn't fine. Why was his scar hurting? Voldemort had died. And even if he wasn't dead and was rising, the horcrux in Harry was destroyed, wasn't it?

Harry got up and said: "I'll eat dinner later" to Ginny's worried face. He then went upstairs to his room. That was where all his good thinking took place. Maybe he should talk with Hermione and Ron about this. Maybe they could figure out what was going on. "That's right, I should," Harry thought, taking out some paper and pen to send a letter. "If anyone has an idea of what's going on, it's them."

He started writing.

To Hermione and Ron,

I have bad news for you guys. The scar on my forehead is hurting again, and I don't know why. I don't know what's going on; can you guys please help me?

He paused, thought for a moment, and continued writing.

Has Voldemort returned? Even if he has, isn't the horcrux in me gone? I was thinking that maybe you guys would have some ideas.

Your friend,

Harry

Harry rolled up the letter and tied a ribbon around it. Holding the letter up in the air, he whistled loud and clear; loud enough for a good taxi driver to hear from Times Square to Central Park. An owl whooshed past and grabbed the letter, then flew out the window. "Send it to Ron and Hermione!" Harry shouted after him. The sight of the owl saddened him as it reminded him of the bad times when he lost Hedwig.

Harry sighed and plopped into a chair behind his desk. Was it just him, or was his head hurting even more now? He rubbed his head harder, hoping to extinguish the pain. All of the sudden, his scar hurt madly and Harry was thrown into a blackout before he could even register the pain.