Title: Letting Go

Author: RedWingsChica14 (and no, I'm not 14 years old... stop asking)

Rating: PG-13 (TV-14)

Spoilers: Book four for now, however just to be safe, I may spill some from all of them. Hey, what are you doing here if you haven't read the books?! Read those first!!

Disclaimer: Everyone in the world knows that a wonderful and beautiful woman by the name of J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter and all that is associated with such a name. I only borrow them in the chance that I may entertain a few for free, and enhance my creative abilities as a writer. You can't argue with that, now can ya? :)

Summary: Harry's having a hard summer after his fourth year. Can his best friend and a trip to America make him let go of his worries?

A/N: Alright. I can't guarantee how fast chapters for this fic will be up, however, my goal is at least one a week. I know chapter one is reallllly short, however chapter two is much longer, and just has to be final drafted, which shouldn't take longer than a day. This is my first REAL attempt at Harry Potter fanfic. I usually stick to original fiction and non-fiction, but I've just been emersed by Potterdom recently. I appreciate reviews, both good and bad. The bad will be laughed at unless it's constructive.

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Chapter 1 - The Dream
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Harry Potter was surrounded in the vast darkness of the forest. He stood there silently, in the pitch black, his wand armed in front of him. He could not see the thin stick of wood in front of his face, or the murky ground he stood on, or anything else for that matter.

A high pitched, malicious scream pierced the darkness. Harry's head snapped toward where the laugh echoed.His knuckles were stinging from the death grip he had on his wand. He sprung to his left. Jumped to his right.

"Lumos," he muttered, having found his voice at last.

Nothing happened.

"Lumos," he said in a more demanding tone, sweat pouring down his forehead despite the utter cold that was submerging him.

Still, nothing. Then, a scream.

It pierced the darkness like a knife. Unlike the laugh of before, this scream was not cold, not cruel like the laugh was. This scream came from a woman - an innocent woman. Then the scream came to an unnatrual and abrupt stop.

Harry did not know what was controlling him, but something inside told him to run. A primal instinct took over his body, and he ran. He stumbled now and then, but it did not stop his shoes from squashing against the damp grounds, desperately searching for the source of the scream. He had to help her!

Suddenly, his feet froze from under him, and he stumbled. Based on nothing more than instinct, he dropped to his knees and started to feel his way through the wet leaves and mucky floor of the forest, looking for something. Looking for someone.

His hand colided with a cold, clammy object. He continued to inspect, using his hands as a blind man would, until he suddenly stopped. He snatched his hand back quickly, horrified at the images his mind was producing. He didn't want to believe it, no, it couldn't be, his mind pleaded.

But it was.

On the ground, she lay there, cold as death.