Pleasant Dreams

Harry woke up at 7:00 a.m. Upon hearing his alarm clock he immediately turned it off while putting his glasses on from off the nightstand beside his bed. Ruffling his hair from an untidy sleep, he noticed something odd as he scanned his bedroom. It wasn't his bedroom. At least not the one he slept in at the Dursleys: The first thing odd.

Harry Potter, now seventeen, was frequently staying at the Dursleys until next school year: Dumbledore's orders. His birthday had passed a few days ago, and he hadn't got one card or present. Not one. Not even his friends mailed him one. But it's not like he can blame them. Actually he couldn't. At the end of the last semester, Voldemort made a surprise attack on Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and no one was prepared. Dumbledore had been called on a business meeting during the attack, which in fact had been a set-up from a 'right hand' Death Eater. Many lives were taken that fateful morning when teachers and students alike fought. And sadly enough, Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger, Harry's best friends, his family, and many others had been taken away from Harry's life. The Weasleys had no more consolation in there life for Harry. They blamed him for Ron's death, and Mr. And Mrs. Granger were so angered by there daughter's death, they destroyed every magical thing Hermione had own and tried to begin a group of people that knew about the magical would, but despised it. But nobody believed them or didn't want to. People even stopped coming to Mr. Granger as their dentist because of this; they thought he was going insane. Harry knew if he ever the Dursleys this they'd be the first ones on the cult list. But even thinking about his friends' families made heat rise from behind his eyes. Harry tried every day to put them in the back of his head and try to forget. He didn't even want to go back to Hogwarts the next semester. He knew it was his fault even though most tried to tell him it wasn't. But, he thought he did, and that was the only thing that mattered to him. He brought it upon himself.

Harry walked through a recognizable hall, and then down some recognizable stairs, but not the Dursleys stairs. This was getting weird for Harry. He was just about to go upstairs, when he smelled something good coming from what he could only assume was the kitchen. Following the food-filling scent, he started walking towards a kitchen door and opened it, only to reveal a place he could only recall in memories. Harry thought for a moment. Then it hit him. He was at Grimauld Place.

A/N: I hope you like it. Please review. If I can get five reviews I will update the next chapter. If you really like it, tell a friend about it.