DISCLAMER: I own nothing, so you can't sue me any lawyers who might just be happening to read this.

A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed this: Vesper Lunen (you are so more evil than me), Whiteriver, Babyirish06 and Katydidn't and anyone else who I've forgotten. You all make me so happy. By the way I am not very good at dialogue so this chapter might be bad. Please review.

Harry was falling through a never-ending darkness, colour swirled past his eyes. He wondered vaguely if this was what it was like to be dead for he remembered, Voldemort had killed him. He couldn't feel his body at all; he tried to lift his arms to his chest to feel the stump of the knife. He felt extraordinarily tired, and wished that this sinking would end. His head slumped forward and he drifted into what felt like a dreamless sleep but was most likely what it was like to die, he thought. He didn't really believe in all that heaven and hell stuff.

* * *

Everything was out of focus, blurred images swimming in front of him and voices. The voices were familiar but he couldn't place them, he didn't bother to listen, he felt exhausted, they just washed over him soothingly. Gradually what he could see began to sharpen and he could see where he was, Ron's bedroom.

"Harry...Harry," it was the cheerful voice of Mrs Weasley, "You're awake at last," she patted the bed-covers. Harry shook his head in confusion, how could he be at the Burrow, he was dead.

"No, don't try to move," she said comfortingly, "You're staying here for the rest of the summer." Harry tried to get up but she pushed him down gently, "You must sleep, Harry. Save your questions till later." Harry found that he was actually incredibly sleepy and soon he was back in the dreamless slumber of before.

He went like this for several days, asleep for most of the time and just waking for a little time to have soup dribbled between his lips but he did begin to recover and gradually he was awake for longer. He didn't keep much track of time during this but he guessed it was about five days before Mrs Weasley allowed anyone else to come and see him. The first visitor was Dumbledore, to Harry's surprise.

"Professor," Harry gasped.

"Hello Harry," Dumbledore smiled, "Are you feeling better?"

"Yes, thanks, but..." Harry began, "I...I should be dead, Voldemort killed me. He was in the fire and he pulled out a knife and put it straight through my heart." Dumbledore shook his head wearily.

"Ah...we guessed it could be something like this," Dumbledore sighed, "Voldemort must be gaining more power than we thought if he can afford to lose magic by travelling like that. You see, when you travel by fire power it takes up a bit of magic but it normally can be regenerated if you're a fully-powered witch or wizard."

"But..shouldn't I be dead," Harry asked.

"Didn't you wonder why he didn't just kill you by magic?"

"Well, I was more worried about the fact he had a knife at my throat," muttered Harry under his breath.

"When, you travel by fire, you don't actually go there, it's like an image of you," Dumbledore explained, "This picture of Voldemort couldn't hurt you because it is not real. I don't know why he did it though, it seems pointless."

"He took my blood, he put it in a bottle, it was real blood," Harry whispered, he was scared about what Dumbledore had said, if Voldemort was that powerful how long would it be before he killed him for real, "Dumbledore, couldn't he have just apparated there and killed me."

"I put a spell on your Aunt and Uncle's house, Voldemort can't come anywhere near it, but I suppose he could by fire as it isn't really him. About the blood, well, when you travel by fire the image can take things back, and as getting the blood wouldn't kill you it did really happen but the rest...it's like an illusion. I don't know why he took the blood though, I suppose it could be to do with making himself immortal. He's just trying to play with your mind," Dumbledore's eyes looked sadly round, "I'll have to tell the ministry about this. Though that Cornelius Fudge, well..never mind. Goodbye Harry." Dumbledore vanished as he apparated.

Harry tried to take this information in, at first he was relieved that Voldemort hadn't killed him and couldn't at the Dursleys but then he remembered the conversation that he had heard and had nearly forgotten after what had happened. He'd meant to ask Dumbledore about that. Then Mrs Weasley bustled in with some food.

"We'll have to build your energy up, Harry," she beamed at him.

"Mrs Weasley, can I see Ron," asked Harry, he'd really missed Ron and Hermione over the summer. Then he realised something strange, this was Ron's room and Ron wasn't sleeping here, a chill ran down his spine before Mrs Weasley even opened her mouth.

"He..he's not here. He's in hospital," Mrs Weasley replied, her eyes looked troubled. Harry sat up quickly.

"In hospital...why?" he gasped, there was one thought in his mind, please don't let it be Voldemort.

"He was having lunch on Saturday and well..it was like a fit but his eyes, they were purple," she whispered sitting on the bed, "They don't know what it was, they're bringing him home tomorrow."

Suddenly Harry had a horrible thought, lunchtime on Saturday, wasn't that when Voldemort had come through the fire. What if Ron was something to do with that?

"And Harry...it happened to Hermione too, her mother rang, very worried she was," Mrs Weasley told him sadly. Harry's heart sank, he didn't know what had happened, but he had a feeling it was something to do with Voldemort.

"Mrs Weasley..I'm staying here for the rest of the holidays, aren't I?" Harry asked quickly, thinking of the Dursley's conversation he had overheard.

"Yes, Harry, Dumbledore sorted it all out. The ministry brought you here, they have special watches on you," she laughed, "I guess you don't like it much with those muggles."

"They..they're trying to kill me," Harry whispered, "I heard them talking about it."

"Harry, are you okay," asked Mrs Weasley anxiously, "Dumbledore wouldn't have left you with your muggle aunt and uncle if they were trying to kill you. It must have been a nightmare, dear," she touched his forehead worriedly, "Oh, Harry I found these in your pocket, they're muggle pictures."

She handed over the packet of pictures, Harry looked at them, there was the one of his mum running but it was completely still. He looked at the next one, it was his mum and dad and two other people that he didn't know. Mrs Weasley slipped out and as soon as she had gone the picture began to burn white glowing light just as before.