Disclaimer: Not. Mine.

It landed with a very sound TWUMP, at the end of his bed.

Opening his eyes, trying to allow them to adjust to the darkness, he reached over and grabbed his glasses from the side of the table. Setting them on his nose, he flipped the lamp on, and looked around, searching for the thing that had woken him from his frightening yet interesting dream. When he finally noticed what it was, he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. It was...

A Book.

But that wasn't just any book, and Harry knew it. It was The Book. The Book that had just seen in his dream.

" What the hell?" He muttered to himself as he scooted closer, knocking his sheets aside.

He studied it for a moment, taking everything in. It was about the size of his Charms Book, and obviously very very old. He actually hesitated to touch it, wondering if it might fall to dust in his hands. Slowly, carefully, he brushed his hand against it. It was a leather of some type... maybe dragon. It was black, but after you looked at it for a little longer, you could just barley see traces of a green shimmering about the surface. There were words on it as well, an inscription.

Pro Tantum Qui Can Animadverto Vacuus Illic Eyes

May Vestri Iter itineris Exsisto Tutus

Softly, he spoke the words to himself, not knowing what they meant. There was something so familiar about them, though he had no idea were he could of heard them before.

A strong part of him wanted to open the book, but another part of him wanted nothing more than to through it across the room and burrow under his sheets and drown himself. Why? He wasn't sure. There was just this.. this certain something about it. Something that spoke as clearly as day that if he opened that book, looked upon it's pages, nothing would ever be the same.

He wasn't quite sure he could deal with that. Not now.

He had just come home to Privet Drive from his fifth year at Hogwarts, and his emotions were... mixed.

He was angry, angry at himself for being stupid. Angry that he had led all of his friends into danger. And angry at Dumbledor for keeping the Prophecy a secret from him. But that was another matter all together.

Even more then the anger he felt was loss. His godfather was dead. Dead dead dead. And he was never coming back. It was all Harry's fault. And he knew it.

Not even a few years ago, he could have never imagined feeling this way. His Aunt and Uncle hated him. The feeling was mutual. How would he have felt if they had died?

He'd probably feel slight sadness over them never having a relationship, but that was about it. He would have been fine without them, he could have moved on with very little ( if any ) trouble.

But Sirius...

Sirius was different. Sirius had cared about Harry. He had taken time to talk with him, get to know what went on inside his head. For the first time since he had entered the wizarding world, he had felt like someone wanted to get to know him, not because he was the Boy-Who-Lived, but because they wanted to.

But now he was gone. All because Harry played the hero, and didn't really work on his Occlemancy.

He had been stupid, and he had cost himself the one person he considered a father.

With a loud sigh, Harry hoisted himself out of bed. Tilting his neck, he heard a very satisfying crack. Moving quietly, he sat at his desk, slouching slightly. What am I going to do? He looked once more at the book on his bed, thinking hard. Why am I even acting like this, it's just a book. He leaned back, closing his eyes slightly, and thought about everything that was happening around him. Were had the book come from? Why was he dreaming about far off places and vampires of all creatures? Who had sent him the book? Why him?

He groaned, rubbing his tired eyes over and over with his palms, and decided to get some work done.

He set off to writing the letter the Order had asked him to send every three days." Fat lot of goo that did me. " He thought, viciously in his mind.

Vernon Dursley had never been a kind man. For as long as Harry could remember the fat Dursley pig had hated his guts. Somewhere between the cupboard and the thrashings for doing anything wrong, Harry had come to understand this. He didn't have to like it though.

Not taking the threat from the wizards very well, he had threatened Harry, point blank, that he would write nothing bad about the muggle family, or suffer the consequence's. Felling rather daring, Harry had asked what the consequence's would be if he did. All he got in response was a good slap across the head and a promise of real pain.

So all letters were read and okay'd by Vernon, and he watched Harry attach the letter to Hedwigs leg.

Harry hadn't even been getting mail from his friends, no doubt due to the esteemed Headmasters prompting.

All in all, the summer was turning into one of the worst so far. He was alone in a muggle house, his godfather was dead, and none of his friends saw fit to try to write to him.

Harry leaned back in his chair, moving his shoulders around, trying to get rid of the slight crick in his back. He looked down at what he had written.

Dear Order,

Everything is going fine. The Dursleys are treating me well. Say hello to everyone for me.

Harry

It was short, but it served it's purpose. He tilted his head, checking the clock. 4:45.

Harry sat his chair down on all fours, muttering in disgust. He knew he'd never get back to bed now.

Wrenching himself out of his chair he went back and sat on his bed, looking at the book again. It was quite beautiful. He moved his hand over it again, tracing the words with his fingers.

" What am I going to do?" He thought staring at it. " Why am I even acting like this? It cant be so bad can it?"

Tracing the words over and over, he found himself starting to nod off...

OPEN THE BOOK!

" Wha- what?" Harry looked around, trying to find the source of the noise. There was nothing there. Slowly, Harry looked down. The books letters were glowing, a faint, pulsing green. Without thinking, Harry through the book as hard and as far away as he could. Hid hit the wall with a loud BANG, and fell open. Harry, who had tensed at the loud banging noise, slowly stood. Walking cautiously over to the book, he bent down, having every intention of just slamming the book shut and waiting for a good time to burn it. Just as he was reaching out to touch it, the pages started turning of their own accord. Pulling his hand back quickly, he stared at the book with suspicion. The wise words Mr. Weasley ran through his mind. Never trust anything when you don't know were it keeps its brain. That particular incident had involved a book as well.

Harry was just considering leaving the book were it was and getting help from the Order ( no matter how much he loathed the idea ) when the book flashed once, twice, three times, and Harry felt the tell tail sign of a pull behind his navel before all went black.

And thus began Harry Potters journey

A/N

Why didn't anyone review? I'm sorta hurt, is anyone even reading this?

Well if you are, I hope you'll review this time... sheesh. LOL

I wont hold it against you.

Is there anyone who wants to beta this story out there?

It would help!

Anyway... Until next time!

REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Please?