A/N : English not good. If you see mistake, you'll realize that I'm a human that doesn't

use English very much.

Disclaimer : Me own nothin'

*~*A Change of Mind*~*

Chapter 1

Voldemort

This story takes place during Harry's 7th year. Harry and Hermione were staying at 'The Burrow' since the start of the school holidays. Now, Harry has to go back to the Dursleys for a day because Professor Dumbledore wanted Remus Lupin to personally take Harry to King Cross Station but Harry doesn't know about that. Is everything cleared up? Okay, the story begins…

~*Scene outside 4 Privet Drive*~

"Well Harry. We'll be seeing ya," said Ron, patting Harry's back. Harry, on the other hand, gave him a small smile.

"Don't worry, Harry. Lord Voldemort won't be after you as long as you staying with your relatives. I'm sure of it," said Hermione.

Ron gasped when he heard her saying You-Know-Who's name.

"Hermione! I never thought you, of all people, would say his name."

Hermione frowned at this.

"Stop it, Ron. You would think that hanging around Harry for almost 7 years now, he would influence me in saying his name," replied Hermione, as Harry smiled at her when he heard that.

Harry just laughed at Ron's expression. Ron was still shock that Hermione said Voldemort's name. Harry let out a sigh at Ron's behaviour. Harry then felt upset that he had to go back to the Dursleys'.

"There you go," said Ron, putting the trunk on the pavement.

"Cheer up, Harry. We promise that we'll send you lots of owl," said Hermione, smiling. Harry smile back.

"I don't know Herm. It's just that… I have this weird feeling that Voldemort could attack me even though I'm with the Dursleys," said Harry, managed to look over Hermione's left shoulder and saw that Uncle Vernon was looking sharply at them.

"Voldemort can't come near you, Harry. Just trust Dumbledore," said Hermione, placing her right hand on Harry's left shoulder.

"Will both of you stop calling him by that name!" winced Ron, hearing You-Know-Who's name being spoken out loud.

Harry and Hermione just looked at their pathetic friend and then resumed talking.

"You're right. Lord Voldemort won't try anything dumb," said Harry, totally ignoring Ron's reaction. "Well, I better be off or Dudley will be eating my dinner for me. Send my thanks again to your mom, Ron, for letting me stay at your house."

After he hugged Hermione and gave Ron a 'high-five', he dragged his trunk with Hedwig's empty cage, wobbling on top, towards the awaiting Uncle Vernon.

"We'll be seeing you in three days' time, Harry!" yelled Ron, before he got back into the ministry's car.

They had managed to get the car to send Harry off. Harry waved back to Hermione and Ron as he saw them drive to the bend and disappear when the coast was clear.

~*Inside*~

Harry struggled as he tried to pull his trunk up to his room with Hedwig's cage, now under his right arm. He wanted to use magic to help him but he knew better. The Dursleys hates anything that has anything to do with the word 'magic'. As a result, hating him as well. Not that he cared if he used it on the Dursleys. Unfortunately he knew that if he had used his magic there, he would be in big trouble. This was because doing magic around muggles (non-magic folk) would cause confusion and trouble. Not to mention it is against the law lay down by the Ministry of Magic. There are exceptions to this law though. He could use it to protect himself if Voldemort should attack him.

Halfway up the stairs, Harry heard Dudley's voice from the top of the stairs. He looked back. He could see that Dudley, his (unfortunately to say) cousin, had not lost any weight over the years. Then again, looked like had gained some weight instead.

'Seems that the diet is obviously useless,' thought Harry, looking at his cousin. 'Maybe he would soon be as big as Hagrid, even though he's not a half giant'.

"You will never get that thing upstairs," he laughed. Harry, feeling a little mischievous, thought of doing some pretend magic like he always does if Dudley started to annoy him. He placed the cage onto the floor, leaving his right hand free.

"Hocus…Pocus!" said Harry, pointing his finger towards Dudley, sending him running off screaming into his bedroom.

Harry chuckled to himself. To think that Dudley still thinks witches and wizard do things like that on the 'Sabrina, the teenage witch' show still manages to make Harry wonder how gullible his cousin can be.

'We have so nothing in common!' Harry thought to himself as he picked up the cage and continued to struggle with his trunk.

After about 10 minutes of hard labour of tugging, he finally got his trunk and Hedwig's cage up into his bedroom. He let out a long sigh of relief as he threw himself onto the bed, his arms out-stretched across his bed and lying on his back.

'Why? Oh, why do I have to be here when I could stay over at The Burrow until the term starts? It's only three days. Why does Professor Dumbledore think I should come here instead of just staying there until 1st of September?' he thought.

Harry stared sadly at the empty birdcage. Hedwig left just before he had left from 'The Burrow'.

'I guess even Hedwig knows better than to be living here,' thought Harry again, this time he even laughed softly to himself.

He glanced at the watch that he got fixed a few years back, no thanks to the Dursleys. It was actually with Mr. Weasley's help that he got his watch fixed. Though it was actually his curiosity on how a muggle-watch worked that made him repair Harry's watch. Mr. Weasley is a wizard who works in a department in the Ministry of Magic, Misuse of Muggle Artifacts. Though he would lose his job if the ministry found out that he secretly disassembles and bewitches muggle things. He can't help being curious and fascinated by them. His watch now showed that it was almost dinnertime. Harry groaned as he heard Aunt Petunia shouting for him downstairs. He knew what that meant.

Harry slowly made his way down to the kitchen and the first thing he saw was Aunt Petunia's ugly face.

"Look after the chicken and don't let it burn or I'll sent you up to your room faster than you can say the word 'dinner'!" barked Aunt Petunia.

To think that she would realize that he is nearly seventeen and that she could stop treating him as she did when he was eleven. Too tired to argue, he took over cooking the chicken without any complains. After about ten to twenty minutes, dinner was finally ready.

Nothing interesting happened during dinnertime that night. Maybe it was partly because Harry was too tired to even care that his dinner was just a small piece of chicken and some salad. All he knew was that he wanted to get this lousy dinner over with and get back upstairs so that he could get some sleep. Dinner was a blur to Harry. The last thing he remembered before climbing up the stairs was Aunt Petunia babbling something about him and the plates. He wasn't really sure. All he remembered before he fell asleep was that he was in bed, not caring if the Dursleys were still eating dinner or had died. It was no concern of his because he knew that the Dursleys wouldn't care about him either.

~*Harry's dream *~

Harry looked around him. He had been to this place before, he was sure of it but he just couldn't put his finger on it. He was in a corridor. All he could see was that there was light coming from the room in front to him. He walked into the room. The room was medium sized with a roaring fire in its fireplace. There was an armchair in the middle of the room and also a small, weak figure standing next to it, shivering in fear. There was also a snake but it was on the left side of the armchair. Then he could hear voices speaking.

"The boy is out of Dumbledore's protection, master," said the weak figure.

'Hmm… I know that voice. It's…' thought Harry.

"Good. Now there is no one to save him. Do what you have to do, Wormtail. I must have my duel!" roared the other voice, whom Harry just realised was coming from the armchair.

Harry stood silently and petrified in fear.

"As you wish, master," replied the weak figure, bowing towards the person in the chair and then turned to exit the room.

Harry gasped as he saw that Wormtail looking at his direction. His lips curved into a devilish smile. This frightened Harry because he assumed that Wormtail knew that he was there. To his relief, Wormtail just walked past him and only then did Harry realised that Wormtail had no clue that he was there.

"Yes, Nagini. We will have our revenge very soon..." the second voice, whose laugh boomed in the room.

The laugh was so loud and so evil that Harry's lightning bolt scar began to burn and burn. The pain soon grew so intense that he clutched his forehead and his vision was then a blur. When the swirling mist before his eyes began to disperse, Harry woke up and found that he had his hand on his scar and sweating profusely.

Harry looked around him, and then remembered that he was safe in his bedroom at the Dursleys'. The nightmare he had felt so real that he could've sworn that he was right there with Wormtail and Voldemort, where they were talking. He didn't want to admit it but he knew that deep down inside him it had really happened. After all, it had happen to him more than once before and it began during the start of his fourth year, before he was in Hogwarts. That year, after many experiences, had taught him not to be secretive with Professor Dumbledore. So, after waiting a few minutes, the burning sensation of his scar slowly reduced and he took out a piece of parchment, his bottle of green ink and his eagle-feathered quill. He then sat himself down at the table and got down to writing a letter to Professor Dumbledore.

'Now the problem is… what am I going to write?' he thought, now his scar just stinging.

He taps his fingers on the table and twirling his quill, thinking how to best put it in words on what he had just heard. He kept glancing at his watch, for some reason, as though he was expecting someone. 6.50 a.m. Harry kept tapping the table with his fingers. 7.45 a.m. 'The Dursleys would be up and around by now.' 8.10 a.m. Harry sighed as he scribbled the first few words that he could think of. Finally, by 8.50 am, he finished this letter and was now reading it again to see if it sounded right.

Dear Professor Dumbledore,

How are you doing? I hope you're all right. I'm sorry to bother you because I know that even a professor needs their rest. Even if I've experienced this before, I thought it would be best to tell you what had happened. You see, I had a dream about Lord Voldemort. It was just a short dream but a terrible one. It seems that Voldemort thinks that I am out of your protection and that it's the best time to attack. I just thought that I should tell you since 'Snuffles' reminded me a few times before to inform you if the dream thingy happens again. What should I do?

Harry

Harry looked over and over again at the letter that he had wrote. It's not his best work but at least it gets the information over. Harry folded the letter and placed it on the table so that Hedwig could deliver it when she comes back. Just as he had finished folding it, Aunt Petunia was knocking on his door and shouting orders that weren't even muffled by the door.

~*Table… During Breakfast*~

"Mommy! I want more bacon!" Dudley whined; banging his hands on the table, which made it shake badly.

It shook so badly that Uncle Vernon, who was at the table, had to keep the things on the table from falling off. Harry, who was also at the table, was struggling with himself to keep him from laughing out loud and getting him in trouble again. Aunt Petunia was at the refrigerator, about to take some fruits out to cut and eat.

"I'm sorry, dearie but you are on a diet. You can't have anymore," said Aunt Petunia, sympathy in her voice.

Dudley kept on wailing and banging the table until Aunt Petunia couldn't stand it and burst into tears.

"Oh munchkins. Mommy's sorry but you can't. C'mon, mommy and daddy will take you out later, okay?" she replied, trying to comfort her poor 'little' Dudley.

Dudley stopped his wailing almost at once when he heard that.

"Okay… but I don't want him to come!" said Dudley, pointing at Harry.

"Of course he won't come sweetie. Will he, Vernon?" asked Aunt Petunia, both Dudley and herself looking at Uncle Vernon.

"He won't. We'll just leave him with Mrs. Figg again," said Uncle Vernon, now reading the papers.

"But I…" Harry began but Uncle Vernon had cut him off.

"No buts!!! Since when did you learn to say otherwise, you ungrateful little brat? You will go and stay at Mrs. Figg's and that's final!" Mr. Dudley boomed, getting up from his chair and his face now red with rage.

"I just want to say…" said Harry, trying to defend himself.

"I will not tolerate this behaviour anymore! Go up to your room now!" he yelled again.

Harry could see that Dudley was smiling, no doubt enjoying every moment of it very much. Uncle Vernon's face was so red that Harry felt that it would actually emit heat. Aunt Petunia was just there, doing nothing to make it better or worse.

"But…" said Harry.

"Now!!!" he yelled, if possible, louder while pointing towards the stairs.

Harry finally gave up. He was about to climb the stairs when his scar burned really badly. Harry yelled as he held his right hand over the scar and left hand on the railing so he wouldn't collapse onto the floor, as the pain was unbearable. It hurt like hell and the only time he remembered that it hurt this much was when Voldemort was near.

"Now, boy, before I plan to gave you a punishment worse than it is already!" Uncle Vernon yells again, unaware that Harry was in pain and of the trouble he and his family were going to face.

Suddenly, sound of the living room door falling could be heard from the dining room. Uncle Vernon immediately scrabbled to his feet and made his way to the living room. Harry, Dudley and Aunt Petunia followed suit. They saw dust flying everywhere in the living room that it could be mistaken as a fog and that the living room door was laying on the ground. They all noticed that there were two figures standing at the doorway as the dust slowly cleared. Uncle Vernon was in shock that he didn't care about Harry's punishment anymore.

"Who are you? Get out of my house!" Uncle Vernon yelled some more, this time at the two strangers.

"Should I kill him, master?" asked the smaller stranger.

"No… He might be of some use to me in future. It's the boy I want," replied the taller stranger.

"NO! Don't take my little Duddie! Don't take my angel!" cried Aunt Petunia, hugging Dudley while Dudley was now shaking in fear.

"Foolish creature. Why would I want that boy? He's worthless! It's him that I want!!" said the taller stranger again, pointing to Harry whose scar burned more intensely than it did after the strangers came in; or should I say blasted in.

"Who are you?" Uncle Vernon asked.

It was Harry who answered.

"Voldemort and Wormtail…" Harry managed to say through his gritted teeth.