a/n Hello, it seams you have stumbled upon my little story. its a small start but with out some help i may not even continue .
Disclaimer: ahem... i own nothing and will never own nothing for i have nothing..
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Stars had shown brightly at the late hour at Privet Drive. The streets were dark and silent showing no active life outside the sounds of a stray animal or a car passing by. While all others were tucked in their beds, sleeping peacefully and thinking of their day that would be coming upon them, a boy was wide awake at number 4.
The young man, not reached his sixteenth birthday, was awake brooding over the strange and curious dream he had. Harry Potter was no stranger to curious dreams but for an odd reason, this one stung in his mind.
Over the summer holidays, Harry dreamed a number a terrifying dreams and nightmares. Nightmares that recounted the events of both Sirius and Cedric's deaths with amazing detail, playing the incident over and over again. Each time these dreams occurred, they left him with an almost unbearable amount of guilt. Other of his dreams had been pacifically based on Voldemort and his death eater gatherings, every time showing the dark lords steady growth of power.
But this dream had been different, he thought idly. He had never had a dream that seemed to touch something deep in his mind, like it was a memory. The dream had begun as strange as the dream its self. He had been floating in a mist, unable to see anything at all but the misty clouds that surrounded him. Then and force grabbed him seemingly by him mind, pulling him backward at tournedos speeds, but he had yet to move. Then the tugging stopped and another part of the dream started.
The mists began to change around him. Blurred shapes of people moving about. It like it was an old memory he was trying to recount. The colors and images swirled in front of him. The sounds were mumbled and he could not hear what a few of the blurry objects that he had identified as people. Just as the dream was starting to get clearer, he awoke with a start.
Harry gazed at the night sky was he recounted the dream He knew for a fact it wasn't a dream about Voldemort or sent by him. If it wasn't for the fact that there had been no pain from his scar, he just had a feeling. It was the same feeling that made him go agonist writing Ron, Hermione, or any of the order.
Harry moved to the edge of his bed, staring off at something only he could see. He didn't know what to do. He couldn't go back to sleep, although the dream wasn't an unpleasant one, he wasn't sure if it would stay that way. He walked over to his school trunk, deciding on doing some homework to pass the time.
The Dursley's this summer had taken this summer to letting Harry have his trunk in his room in obvious fear of the order and its members. Harry snickered at the memory of his uncle, purple in the face throwing his trunk in his room. After opening his trunk; he began to shift through his belongings looking for his book, parchment, and a quill after deciding on starting the last homework assailment he had...from potions. He grimaced at the assiment after he sat down at the small desk in him room and turning on a desk lamp.
As he started to write the essay, his mind kept wondering to the dream. Although it reminded and played through his mind like it was a long forgotten memory of his, he knew it wasn't his own memory. It was something different, something that come across as urgent.. and dark.
Harry shook his head and started to think of something to write for Snape's essay while wishing Hermione was here to copy off of hers. as it turned out, a few weeks after he arrived at Privet Drive his friends updated him on the going of their summer. He was not at all surprised to find that Hermione was finished with all of her homework, including extra credit, and Ron hadn't even started.
Harry was brought out of his thoughts at the sharp rapping at his door signaling it was time to start breakfast for his "family"
For the most part, the Dursley's barley acknowledged that he existed beside the list of chores he was given for the day or the glares they gave him when they thought he wasn't looking. The Dursley's were being that same as always and Harry was being invisible as they liked it.
As Harry set down his quill, noticing that he had spent most of his time thinking to himself and had only written a few sentences, he began to get ready for the day.
After pulling on one of Dudley's old shirts that came past his knees, he walked quickly down stairs to start breakfast, though it wouldn't be much just more cut up grapefruit. However when he reached downstairs, he was slightly surprised to see that the Dursley's had cut up their own grapefruit and were already sitting around the table eating their less then satisfying meal.
" Well its about bloody time your up you good for nothing" Uncle Vernon grumbled, glaring over his newspaper.
Harry ignored him and sat down eating his own" breakfast" and went over to counter to get the list of chores his aunt put out for him.
Uncle Vernon, after seeing he wasn't going to get another chance to give his nephew a yelling, gave his wife a kiss on the cheek and saying goodbye to Dudley and left for work, of course not before giving Harry one last glare telling him in a silent manner, 'no funny business '.
After his father left, Dudley told his mother, while making himself as seemingly innocent as he could to fool his mother, told her promptly that he would be taking a walk around the park and perhaps going to a friends house.
Harry snorted at his cousins antics and horrible, but almost gagged as his aunt believed it whole heartedly. He then looked at the short list of chores, all of which involved him remaining inside the house and out of sight from the neighbors.
After finishing with the chores (it didn't take long to clean an already spotless living room, wash already clean dishes. and freshen up the already freshened )Harry went back to solitude of his room. He rubbed his eyes tiredly, the lack of sleep from the night was getting to him as he settled down on his bed and closed his eyes....
///the muffles voices were slightly clearer than last time, as were the images. He could make out ,thought the blurry outlines, that he was wandering , rather, walking briskly through an empty corridor , as he could see the flames from the torches.
He could smell.
The abandoned corridor had an old musky smell, or rather an aura.
He didn't like this place. It was like it was made to make others not want to be here and probable had. He felt him self become more and more on edge. Wait, himself...?
He didn't know where he was but he seemed to know exactly where he was going. He stopped suddenly and noticed he was in front of a person. Who or what he couldn't tell, for his sight was still hazy. He felt himself saying something to the person ,a man form what he could tell , Suddenly a white hot light exploded into his head and a cold bone chilling laughter echoed into his brain...///
Harry jolted from his sleep with a start. Beads of sweat pores down his face and he could feel the sharp pain in his head. Oddly, he noted, the pain wasn't coming from his head, rather the back of it was numb and he noticed himself groping for his glasses.
something was odd about that dream, just like that one before. It called out to him and made him shiver. It wasn't his thoughts. It wasn't his action, heck he didn't even know where the corridor was that he had been wandering.
The dream struck him and left him curious and a bit frightened about what may come next. He only knew one thing...
There was no way in hell was he going back to sleep tonight.
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ok that's it.... If you like this story or have any comments what-so-ever please leave a review. No reviews means i wont keep this story going especially since i have a lot going on and I'm really not confident with the story so I need to feed back..... so review please.