A/N: OK, so I died. NOW I'M ALIVE! All is going somewhat good, if YOU WOULD ALL (classmates, you evil friends… wait….) STOP LAUGHING AT ME AND NICK! YUUUUUUUURGH! OK, making myself happy now, on to the fic!

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"Haaaaaaaarrrrrryyyyyyyyyy…."

A voice spoke softly in Harry's ear.

"Haaaaaaaarrrrrryyyyyyyyyy…. THE EVIL GREEN BLOBS ARE AFTER YOU!"

Harry jumped.

"RON! That was loud,"

"I know," said Ron, proudly.

"What do you want, it's four in the morning."

"I want you to help me go poke Percy in the bum with a spoon."

"What?"

"You heard me!"

"No, Ron, why would we poke Percy in the bum with a spoon?"

"I dunno, sudden inspiration?"

"Inspiration? From where?"

"The kitchen."

"And you're my best friend. All right, we'll poke Percy in the bum with a spoon." Harry clambered out of bed. Ron was all ready fully dressed, so he pulled his pants on and put a sweater over his pajama shirt. They crept down into the kitchen, only to find Percy eating a piece of cake.

"Perce, you're supposed to be in your room!"

Percy gave Ron a quizzical look. "Why?" he said through the mashed up cake in his mouth.

"Because," said Harry "He was going to poke you in the bum with a spoon."

"Right," said Percy, and he walked out the door and sat down in the pigpen.

"He's in the mud, isn't he?" said a yawning Ginny from behind them.

"Yup," said Harry "Were we too loud? Did we wake you up?"

"Well, the 'evil green blobs' did."

"Sorry Ginny." Ron muttered.

As Harry stared at Percy, petting a pig in the mist, his scar began to twitch. Soon, his head was spinning. He could faintly make out Ron and Ginny arguing about quiet time in the house and how rude the other was. He clutched his forehead, massaging it gently.

It didn't work.

Harry's scar burst out in a sudden pain. He fell to the floor, unaware of Ron and Ginny's surprise.

"Harry!" Ginny yelled, putting her hand on his arm.

At this, Harry screamed and shook her off. Ron put a hand on his shoulder, but even more pain broke out at this, too. By now, Percy had run in, mud trailing from his feet. He stretched a hand toward Harry. But Ron put out his hand and stopped him.

"Don't touch him," he muttered, "Something's really wrong."

Harry could faintly make out someone's arms around him. He felt so small, so innocent, so weak, and so vulnerable. He felt hurt, not only physically, but emotionally damaged. He began to remember something, something horrible.

He was crying, crying with all his might. The green glow whirled all around him as he fell to the floor. His mother's arms were no longer around him. He felt so insecure, and he could feel his vulnerability.

A hooded figured approached. He held out a stick, that Harry immediately was interested in and tried to grab hold of.

The figure muttered something that the baby could not understand. The green light returned, and Harry cried louder. He could see the hooded figure disappear into the green, as he cried on and on.

He thought he would never be found. He would never learn how to speak, to walk, or his heritage. He felt so alone. A baby boy, left to die with his dead mother. But just as he began to cry louder, a figure came into the room.

She was weeping. Harry felt that this woman could help, for they were both crying, both sad.

The woman saw Harry on the floor. She looked at him, and turned away, her hair sweeping the ground. But as Harry let out a whimper, she turned around. She gave Harry a pained and sympathetic look. As she came closer to Harry, he felt something different. He felt a sort of warmth inside of him.

The woman picked him up gently. She rocked him in her arms, her eyes closed and flowing with tears.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she muttered to Harry. He stopped crying, and listened to her voice. She held him out and looked at his face. She gave a pained look at the cut on his forehead.

She slowly moved her hand up to the baby's face and onto the cut. She touched it gently, and made a wish for this baby boy to live long and never remember this night.

"Little one,

I know you've been wronged,

But please forgive me,

Little one.

Little one,

Oh please live long,

And please forgive me,

Little one.

Little one,

Be happy forever,

And please forget me,

Little one."

She sang softly to Harry, and that warm feeling grew stronger, until the cut burst out in pain and Harry began to cry again.

The woman tried to comfort and calm Harry, but the baby could only concentrate on the pain. Sirens were heard, and the woman could hear people walking and talking.

She put Harry down next to his mother, and kissed him on the forehead.

The pain in his cut stopped abruptly, and Harry watched the woman take a knife from the kitchen, and disappear.

"HARRY!" Percy yelled. Harry jumped.

He was on the Weasley's floor, with the whole family around him. He was breathing hard, but his scar no longer hurt.

"Harry, are you all right?" asked Ron.

"Yeah," said Harry, "I just had some sort of a vision or something. It was really strange."

"Well, what was it?" asked Fred.

"It was the night my mum died. There was a woman in the house, and she was holding me. I was crying. But, her touch made me stop. She was saying that she was sorry, but I don't know what about. She sang a song to me, before leaving."

Harry looked up to the ceiling.

"Little one,

I know you've been wronged,

But please forgive me,

Little one.

Little one,

Oh please live long,

And please forgive me,

Little one.

Little one,

Be happy forever,

And please forget me,

Little one."

Harry muttered the song to himself.

"You all right?" asked Ron.

"Yeah," said Harry, "Just fine…."

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A/N: OK, that's all. I'll try to write ASAP, but don't expect a quick chapter four! AND THIS NEEDS A NEW NAME, HELP ME THINK OF ONE!