~ Prologue ~
Two lone figures stand in the darkness bathed in a pool of near-blinding
light. Their faces are in shadows, yet their grim expressions were clear.
Both gripped wicked looking blades and were slowly circling each other like
vultures over a carcass. Then, as if a light were turned on, the darkness
beyond was illuminated to show death, destruction and chaos. It was as if
Hell's gates had been thrown open and every demon and all sorts of other
nasties were pouring out into the world. This new light also illuminated
one of the figure's faces. It was Harry. Harry and someone else were stuck
in the middle of a battle. They were alone and faced the hoards that rushed
towards them. They had stopped circling one another and stood back-to-back
facing the onslaught. There was the clash of metal as the battle began.
Harry took down demon after demon with his blade and the mysterious
stranger did the same. They were fighting for their lives and fighting with
everything they had. Harry looked in horror as more and more demons began
to swamp him and his ally. There was no way out. They were both caught by
the demons. The world begins to swirl as the demons begin ripping and
tearing at him. The swirling intensified and increased until the whole
world was one big blur except for the center, where both Harry and the
mysterious stranger were being torn apart. Then an ear-piercing scream
shook the world.
Harry jolted up in a cold sweat. He sat up in his bed and stared blankly at
the wall in front of him. This dream was becoming an ever more frequent
visitor. Harry didn't know what to make of it. The one thing Harry did know
was that the dream meant bad news. He had had strange dreams before, and
they had always turned into some evil omen. He squinted at the watch on the
nightstand. It was 3:34 in the morning. Harry considered getting up and
writing to Sirus about the dream, but remembered with a pang. Sirius wasn't
here anymore. There was no Sirius to write to. Hot tears filled eyes that
have seen far too much suffering for someone his age. Brushing the tears
aside and telling himself that crying wouldn't really help anything, Harry
thought of school and Dumbledore. That almost cheered Harry up. He was
going back to Hogwarts in two days and he could get Dumbledore's advice on
the dream.
*~*~*~*~*~*
Draco paced across his bedchamber. The dream had awakened him. Again.
This was the thousandth time he had had that dream this summer, and Draco
was beginning to become VERY brassed off. It was only a stupid dream after
all. Bollocks to the battle, the swirling or the mysterious figure fighting
next to him. A glance at the clock told him that it was 3:34. Running a
hand through his sleep-tousled hair, Draco stopped pacing and wearily
decided to climb back into bed. It was one of the last nights he would
spend in his own chamber for a long while and he wanted to savor the
moment. In a few days, Draco would be returning to Hogwarts for his 6th
year. Lying in his bed, Draco fell back into a fitful slumber.
*~*~*~*~*~*