A/N: Well after much consideration I decided I was going to do the story after all. Seeing as a couple of people where really looking forward to it, so I hope this makes them happy, and as for if you think my writing is childish and horrible, Don't say it, it'd rather prefer not to hear it because I am a learner. Not a million dollar novel writer, ok?

Right also there IS an own character in this, yet she may be a slightly big part, she's the only one keeping Danny sane during the whole story, sort of like his emotional rock. So please, don't complain about it, you can find information about her on my profile.

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"Tom!" The suffering mother watched as a death eater chased after her son, enjoying how much the terror of the boy was bringing. Her throat was torn from screaming, and she just couldn't last much longer, her body was going into intense shock from the searing pain she'd suffered under the crucio curse, but as much pain as she was in, she couldn't help but scream at her son to run, get out while he had the chance, but being so distracted with that, she hadn't noticed the creature until it was too late. She turned, after hearing the mumbling of an in holy voice, Only to be shot in the chest by a green blast, her body fell to the ground, lifeless.

Tom watched in horror, as the death eater stood over his dead mother, and he could just tell, under that horrible mask, the soulless follower was just grinning, loving the fact he could control life and death. He advanced forward, and all the other death eaters copied, cornering Tom, like school yard bullies and their innocent victim, except he knew what they where going to do. So he drew his wand, not getting on his knees and going like a coward.

"Get back!" He waved his wand like a mad man, which did nothing but entertain them. They simply backed off and allowed the dementor to enter, since they wanted to see him squirm.

Its cloak shifty moved with its actions, grabbing Tom by the neck in the blink of an eye, and pinned him up against the wall. The surrounding area was washed of the little happiness it still contained, as the dementor got to work. Tom tried to get free, moved his head, tried to get his fingers to move, but his body would just not respond. He closed his eyes as they started to blur, as he felt all his most treasured memories of happiness and love be stripped from his soul. Suddenly he dropped to the ground. He subconsciously wrapped his arms around his torso, looking up. Only to be smirked at by an inhuman Figure, his bony hands outstretched, showing he had his wand pointing directly at Tom. There was a flash of green, and his body was flung back against the wall, the eyes had dimmed, showing nothing but fear and sorrow;.

"Avada Kerdavra."

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Danny screamed slightly, waking up from his seemingly repeating nightmare, He sat up and tried to get his breathing back to normal, he clutched his chest. Trying to reduce the pain. His head raced in many thoughts, but his main one was either was that dream actually real? or just a figment of his imagination? As always, they where the two main questions that he wished he had answers for.

"Yeah, maybe it was...I mean who dreams of wizards? and all that..magic stuff. Only little kids have nightmares of that. It was probably all the ghost fighting lately. Making me more tired then usual.."

After many more minutes of his slightly insane conversation with himself as he did almost every night that week. he glanced at the cell phone sitting on his nightstand, the light on it glowing dimly in the dark. He reached over, grabbing it and flipped it open. Immediately looking over at the corner where the time was displayed.

04: 21 am.

After a few minutes of wondering, he decided to call her, maybe she wouldn't kill him.

He quickly dialled her number, waiting for a while before there was finally an answer,

"What?" Yup. Via was going to kill him for this.

"uh..Hi Via." He said, slightly nervous, he knew she was not in any way a morning person. She'd snap at anything.

"what is..it Danny?"

"Uh…um…" He starting stuttering, which just seemed to aggravate her more.

"Spit it out!"

He blinked, "Man… should of called Sam." He thought. "Uh..hi my loving sister who would never hurt me." He said that as if he was questioning it.

"What is it Danny for the third time?! What was so important that you couldn't wait…" She paused, so Danny was guessing she was looking over at the clock. "4:27 in the morning!?"

"look… Via. I had …the weird nightmare thing. Its confusing and I was wondering if you could help me."

"you woke me up for that thing again? Danny! We already talked about this, magic and all that stuff is not real, so please, stop phoning me during early hours and saying you had a dream about some old guy that kills everything!" She hung up. Making Danny sigh, great…now she was going to be ticked off later when she came over.

He lay back down, covering himself with the blanket once more and attempted to get back to sleep, but failed, miserably. The images of the dying family haunted his subconscious every time he closed his eyes, but after some effort. He managed to drift back to sleep.

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The elderly gardener sighed, moving around the small kitchen of his cottage. He grabbed the kettle, sliding it under the tap and filled it with water while he looked out the dirty window up the hill. He raised an eyebrow as he noticed the glimmering lights, and automatically thought it was the boy's had broken into the house again, and by the flicking of the light, he guessed they had started a fire.

Setting the kettle down gently, he hurried upstairs as fast as his stiff leg would allow, and soon returned to the kitchen, fully dressed, not like the simple nightclothes as he was wearing before. He removed the rusty old key from the hook on the door, and grabbed his walking stick, going up to the house to investigate.

After making it up the hill on nothing but a dirt path, fighting the tatted shrubbery and weeds that the gardener could just not tame anymore. He slowly walked around the house, looking for any sign that there was a break in. Yet, none. Even the front door of the riddle house bore no signs of being forced. He went around to the back, walking up to a door that was almost completely hidden by shrubbery, and stuck the rusted key into the lock, he turned it and pushed the door open with a creek. Due to not being oiled in a very long time.

Crossing the fresh hold, the elderly man glanced around the cavernous kitchen, which he had not entered for many years since the riddle's death, although it was dark, he could see no damage to it, so he continued on through his search of the house. He slipped out the door into the hall and stopped. His nostrils where hit with the horrible aroma of decay, that forced him to make a face. He glanced around the room, seeing as it was slightly lighter because of the moonlight, that could not of been seen at the back of the house. He went over to the stairs, slowly making his way up, thanking the cover of dust that disguised his footsteps and the tapping of the walking stick against the floor.

On the landing, he turned right, and saw at once where the intruders where. At the very end of the passage was a door that stood ajar, and the flickering light shone brightly through the gap, casting a long silver of gold across the black floor. He advanced closer slowly, grasping his walking stick firmly, as he was several feet from the door, he could see a narrow slice into the room before him, the fire. He now saw, had been lit in the grate. This surprised him. He stopped moving and listened to the voices he could almost clearly hear in the room, but still struggling, he turned his right ear towards the door, because he could hear better in that ear compared to his left ear.

"My lord, may I ask how long we are going to stay here?" a snivelled voice asked, with a slight hint of fear..or was that respect?

"A week," said the cold voice, "perhaps longer, the place is moderately comfortable, and the plan can not proceed yet, it would be foolish to act before the quidditich world cup is over."

The elderly man blinked, slightly, eye brows raised, he cleared his ear with his finger, wondering if he heard that right, what on earth was a "quidditch word cup"? like soccer?

"The quidditch world cup, my lord? The snivelled voice spoke again, "Forgive me, my lord…but I do not understand, why should we wait until the quidditch world cup is over?"

"Because, fool. At this very moment wizards are pouring into the country from all over the world, and every meddler from the ministry of magic will be on duty, on the watch for signs of unusual activity. Checking and double checking identities. They will be obsessed with security. Lest the muggles notice anything. So we wait."

The gardener tightened his grip on his walking stick, obviously confused. He had caught the words "ministry of magic", "wizards" and "muggles" plainly, and the only people he could think who spoke in that sort of code where spies and criminals.

"Your lordship is still determined, then?"

"Certainly I am determined, Wormtail." There was a note of menace in his cold voice now.

There was a long pause before this "Wormtail" spoke up again..

"It could be done without Harry Potter my lord…"

Another pause, more protracted, and then-

"Without Harry Potter?"

"My lord, I do not say this is out of concern for the boy!" Said Wormtail in a panicked voice, his voice adapting to a frightened squeak. "The boy is nothing to me, nothing at all! It is merely that if we were to use another witch or wizard- any wand- the thing could be done so much more quickly! If you allowed me to leave you for a short while- you know that I can disguise myself most effectively- I could be back here in as little as two days with a suitable person-"

"I could only use one other wizard." The other voice stated clearly.

"who? Who my lord? I will go and seek him for you. It makes sense, seeing as laying hands on Harry Potter would be so difficult, he is so well protected."

"the other one, I believe, is a boy who goes by the name of Daniel Fenton."

Out in the corridor, the gardener suddenly became aware that his hand that was gripping his walking stick was slippery with sweat. He knew what he had to do, he had to run to the police, report them and get them put away, before they caused too much damage, or even killed someone.

The talking started again,

"one more curse… my faithful servant at Hogwarts…Harry potter is as good as mine. Wormtail. It is decided, there will be no more argument. But quiet… I think I hear Nagini."

The gardener jumped at the next second, as a large, twelve feet snake slivered right past his ankles and into the room. The old man panicked, backing up.

"Nagini has interesting news, Wormtail."

"In-deed, my lord?"

"indeed yes," Said the voice." According to Nagini, there is an old muggle standing right outside this room, listening to everything word we say."

The next second, the door flung open. Showing a rather short, insane man who obviously did not care about personal hygiene, and a tall, cloaked figure, so frightening, that the gardener had backed into the wall, he was cornered. The taller man walked swiftly down the corridor, grabbing the wand from the short man as he passed him, and pointed it in the old mans face. The gardener looked up, only to meet cold, black eyes, almost haunting against the pure white skin, the creature seemed to smirk at him, before a green blast irrupted from the wand,

"Avada Kerdavra!"

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Well there you go, hope you like it, and also thanks to the reviewers who commented on the old version, I hope this rewritten version is better then the last. Don't worry, viola isn't nasty all the time, just the mornings, and she will be explained more during the next few chapters. Anyway, please review.