Insomnia

I lay awake on a mattress that no decent human being should be forced to sleep on at 3:34 a.m. I am probably the only person in all of Little Whinging, Surrey that is awake as well, and I don't care. I am a bespectacled boy that happens to turn 16 in a mere two weeks, on July 31st. I haven't slept for more than three hours since I came back from Hogwarts. I find writing keeps my mind off my exhaustion and helps get my head sorted. I've been trying to clear my mind by writing everything I can think of down. Sometimes it helps, others, I dream of Sirius, Cedric, Voldemort. I really don't know what to do. My emerald green eyes seem to glow more than ever before, or so I'm told.

"Potter, I know you're up to something I can see those eyes glowing more

than ever before. I swear if you are lying about how we are treating you

there will be hell to pay!!"

"I hate you Vernon." He said in the barest of whispers.

My jet black hair is as messy as ever and my bloodshot eyes are not the only sign that all is not well with me, or so I'm told.

"BOY, what is wrong with you? Look how messy your hair is, and can't

you fix your eyes. I don't want 'those' people to think we are at fault. You

better fix it or I will have a talk with your Uncle."

"You too, Petunia." Quietly, more to himself than anything.

I have rings under my eyes that marvel the markings of a racoon, there seems to be a dark aura surrounding me, or so I'm told.

"What Potter, did Cedric beat you up. Looks like you have to black eyes.

Why does it look like you have shadows following you around, huh?

Some kind of special dark aura you learned from freak school?

"Yeah, Yeah Dudley, too bad I can't blame you completely. That would be to easy." He knew Dudley might not have been as bad if not for Vernon and Petunia. He also knew that Dudley could have been his own person as well. Especially after the Dementor incident, but no. Dudley, like the rest of the family, had let it be known that it was Harry's fault and not even a thank-you was said.

I am underfed and overworked. Period. Nobody has to tell me anymore. They know I'm close to losing it. Everyone can sense it. Even in the three word letters I send. I know I'm becoming deathly pale. What am I supposed to do? Somebody tell me, I don't have a clue.

I am known as, the-boy-who-lived to all of the Wizarding world. But have I really? When have I even had the chance to live? I am the saviour of the Wizarding world. But who alone can save the saviour? I am Harry Potter. Killer of my godfather and endangerer of all of my friends. I have no saviour because I can't have a saviour. Some would say that I am at a crossroads in my life. Some would say I have to make a choice between what is easy and what is right. And what do I say? DUH!! I've been at a crossroads ever since I opened that letter on my eleventh birthday.

I am a wizard and not just any wizard, but the one prophesized to go against the Dark Lord, Voldemort. Voldemort is so terrible that almost none in the wizarding world will dare even speak his name. He only fears one man and has only been stopped numerous times by one other. The first is Albus Dumbledore, who many regard as the greatest wizard of this age. Headmaster of Hogwarts and a bunch of other important stuff. Who saved my arse one more time last year. Too bad he didn't save Sirius and let me die. Or he could have just told me of that damn prophesy at the beginning of the year. Yeah, me the one who is on it with Voldemort. The only one who has stopped him numerous times. Me, the one who is at a crossroads in his life.

"What am I going to do?" The voice Harry used sounded foreign to him. He had only spoke in whispers since he had arrived back. He had barely eaten something. His aunt did send food up to his room three times a day. Although it was very meager and not horrible, he couldn't finish any of it. His voice was ragged and low, more of a croak than anything else. He just sat there trying to decide a way out of this hellhole. He was so lost, he didn't think anything could help him, let alone anyone.

Harry had lived at Number Four Privet Drive his whole life, but this year had been worse than ever. The Dursleys just ignored him and he would do the same in response. He was more tetchy than ever. One minute he would be happy and the next he would feel like a Dementor was around. He thought of contacting the order or Dumbledore, but he didn't trust any of them. He people he did trust he wouldn't put this burden on, Ron and Hermione. He probably trusted all of the Weasleys except Percy. This was his battle and he needed to deal with his own demons. Their was one major thing the potpourri of emotions had caused.. Harry had been having more bouts of accidental magic. His emotions had changed so drastically and quickly that usually something unexpected happened. At first he was afraid of facing the Wizengamot again, but nothing happened. So either they can't really scan for accidental magic, or wandless, or they don't care anymore. Maybe Dumbledore had a talk with them?

He had started studying more now that he rarely slept, and he was happy to acknowledge that he could probably give Hermione a run for her money. He had gotten letters form her but he hadn't replied yet. He hadn't replied to anyone actually. He didn't want to hear their pity and he didn't want to be reminded of Sirius' death more than his dreams already did. His scar was in a constant tingling and every now and then it would increase to a strong ache. He didn't care if Dumbledore would like to know. This was his battle, this was his war. He was going to learn everything that he could. So he continued reading the all of his school books. He usually drifted off in the middle of reading and that is what he had done this night.

"Sirius, I'm sorry. Please don't fall." Harry was back in the atrium again. He could catch him this time. He ran and ran. He saw Bellatrix laugh. "NOOOO!!!" He couldn't get there and once again. He watched as he was grabbed by Lupin again. He was having trouble. He knew he was going to come out this time. "This can't be happening, not like this, not again"

Lupin then spoke to him. "Harry it's all your fault. First you kill your parents, then your godfather. Who's next? Ron and Hermione? No wonder nobody has gotten you out of this house. Nobody even cares. That's what's in the letters. They are telling you never to speak to them again"

Neville came up to him next. "Harry, ib's all dour fault. Dou almost keeled all ub us. Ib's dour fault my barents are bed. IB'S ALL DOUR FAULT!! IB'S ALL DOUR FAULT BY BARENTS ARE BED!!!" He was yelling as loud as someone with a broken nose could.

Then everything changed.

Ron stepped up next and said probably the worst thing that Harry had ever heard. "You're worse than Voldemort. Everyone knows he's evil. Everyone knows he doesn't care. But you, you. You act like you care so much, you act like you need us. But the only thing you are doing is killing us off one by one. Right after we get over the pain of one, it's another. I mean my family took you in for the summer. You stayed at our house, and what did you do? You tore us apart. Percy hates us and the same thing almost happened with Fred and George because you gave them that money. You're insufferable."

Harry was no longer in the Ministry of Magic he was in a small suburban town. He was in front of a very nice house. It was a lighter color, and in an older Victorian style. It had three floors and all of the windows had green shutters. The front door was big and oak. It had a mail box right next to the steps leading to the sidewalk. In the driveway was a newer car outside of a garage. He felt hatred looking around, especially at the cars and the lights. He could tell this was a Muggle area and that someone was in trouble. Harry then looked at the mailbox a little more closely. He could barely make out the letters. As soon as he was able to get a good look at it, his view shifted.

He began talking to someone in a Death Eater uniform. Once he saw the glint of silver from the man's arm Harry knew who it was.

"Wormtail, I have given you a full year. These recruits better be able to take down the wards and destroy the house. You have seven minutes. I will grant you the favor of taking down Dumbledore's anti-apparition ward. Remember you and your recruits have seven minutes. I want the Grangers dead and I don't want them to wake up. If you fail you will wish you had never been born. I will be back. Let it be known what will happen to anyone who befriends Harry Potter. He is going to be the immediate death of so many people that I would have usually over looked."

Harry woke with a start drenched in a cold sweat and mind racing. He had to save Hermione. He had been in Voldemort's head again, and if this vision was true, then one of his best friends was going to die.