Hello, everyone! I'm trying my hand at a Harry Potter fic. I hope it turns out well! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I own nothing of Harry Potter, although the Asuuv race were created by me and therefore belong to me. The quotes that I use also don't belong to me. I get them off of the very useful website: www . quotationspage . com.


—Chapter One

"It Begins"

"Dreams come true. Without that possibility, nature would not incite us to have them."

John Updike (1932-)


THE HOUSE was uncomfortably silent.

A seventeen year old boy with ruffled black hair and emerald green eyes sat on his small bed, arms wrapped around his knees lightly and a bored expression on his face. He wore baggy jeans that seemed way too big for him (it was held up by an old leather belt) as did his filthy grey shirt. A strange, lightning bolt shaped scar was set on his forehead.

The room was terribly small, holding only a small desk, a small dresser and his bed. On his desk sat a bronze cage that was rattled annoyingly by a beautiful white owl, a few pieces of parchment and quills and three books; one on potions, another on charms and the last on magical creatures.

The boy looked up at the cage drowsily, as if he'd just woken up from a short nap, and murmured, "You're right, Hedwig. The Dursleys are probably gone by now." He slowly stood up and searched under his bed for loose floorboards he hid his things under. Finding it, he reached for the familiar piece of wire that he used to open the owl's cage. Then setting the floorboard back neatly, he turned to the cage and skillfully picked the lock.

His Muggle uncle, Vernon, had locked the cage when Harry had returned from Hogwarts, the School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, so that he couldn't contact his friends by using the winged carrier. That didn't stop them from sending letters, though, and his friends did as often as they could. All the recent ones packed with news of the wizarding world were hidden under the loose floorboard.

With a quiet click, the lock popped open. Removing it from the bars, Harry opened the cage and set his arm out. The owl hopped onto the outstretched limb with a thankful hoot, fluttering her wings excitedly.

"You're lucky," he told the owl as he moved to the window, carefully opening it, "I wish I could just fly away from here." He adjusted one of the metal bars guarding his window that he'd filed down at the beginning of summer and watched his friend fly towards freedom. She hooted again as he replaced the bar and closed the window.

He did this as often as he could: letting Hedwig out for a fly, but the times were few since his aunt and uncle forbid it. So when they were out, as they were now, or to busy to notice he opened the cage and let her out. If he was caught he was punished, which was mostly being locked in his room and not being able to go down to dinner. Not that it really would've mattered, his cousin, Dudley ate most of his portion anyway. When he was punished they would shove a plate of cold and stale food through the flap at the bottom of the door for him to eat.

He, once again, was thankful for his friends. Sometimes when they sent information they sent food (although mostly sweets) that he was familiar with from his school: Chocolate Frogs, and all that. He never starved over the summer break.

However the only reliable source of food was at Hogwarts. He always looked forward to returning there, not just for the food but for his friends and equals. At least there he wasn't treated like a slug.

Well, that's not completely true, he thought smiling slightly. His arch enemy—no rival—was always there, plaguing him with insults and providing a form of entertainment and challenge in Quidditch matches. But although he loathed Draco Malfoy he couldn't help but look forward to their next trial of wits. He hated to admit it, but he actually enjoyed it.

On the other hand, returning to Hogwarts meant that he returned to being The Boy Who Lived, the one who'd defeated the Dark Lord, Voldemort, when he was only one year old. The boy who was famous and hated and loved by many people at the same time. The boy who was the world's only hope. His scar tingled even thinking about the evil bastard.

Harry sighed, collapsing onto his bed. Why'd he have to think of this now, during summer break? He'll have all the time in the world once he got back to school and talked with his friends. He actually wished they were here with him now. Life with the Dursleys was becoming unbearable with only Hedwig around.

When he returned at the end of his fifth year, they'd been absolutely terrified of him and his magic. Once they actually locked him up here for just looking at them 'with a malicious eye' as Uncle Vernon had told him. But his presence back in the household wouldn't halt their plans and they'd informed him that they were going out for a bit, all three of them, and that should they find anything broken and/or missing he was dead meat.

His response was a sigh and trouncing up the stairs into his room and hearing it lock a second later.

Now, an hour later, he moaned in irritation as he heard the front door open and footsteps in the room below him. "My loving family is home," he muttered sarcastically, sitting up as he heard footsteps ascending and nearing his door. A rustle was heard behind it before the lock clicked open and the door was swung wide.

The plump uncle stood in the doorway, scowling. Looking around the room, he noticed the empty cage and instantly turned on Harry. "Boy," he began furiously, "What is that bird doing out? I specifically told you that you'll not be plotting another escape with you're freaky friends this summer!"

"She was anxious and frustrated because she couldn't stretch her wings," the young wizard retorted. "She'd be hooting all summer if I didn't let her out once and a while!"

Vernon's eyes narrowed evilly. "True. However, I think I can fix that." As he spoke he reached for the cage and grabbed it.

Harry's eyes widened. "What are you doing!"

"If you won't follow our rules and can't shut that bird up," Vernon explained stiffly, exiting the room, "We'll just get rid of it. It was something we should've done years ago, anyway." Then he closed the door behind him and, with a faint click to show the door was locked, proceeded back down the stairs.

The young wizard ran to the door and began banging on it with his fists. "No!" he screamed angrily, tears of hopelessness threatening to fall. "No! You can't do this! Give her back! Give Hedwig back!" He continued pounding on the door, but received no reply. Slowly he sank to the floor and sobbed uncontrollably.

Now he was truly alone. No one to talk to (even though she couldn't talk back, he still felt that Hedwig understood him and listened), nothing to comfort him but worst of all, he lost his gift from his first ever friend, Hagrid, the kind half giant that lived at Hogwarts. Even if the owl was merely just a carrier (which she wasn't) he would've valued her as a treasure and as the first birthday gift he'd ever received.

"No." he croaked softly, "No this can't be happening. They can't do that. They can't, it's not fair…" He leaned back against the side wall, muttering to himself that this was just a dream. He fell asleep like that, murmuring words he could no longer comprehend as he descended into dreamland.


BURNING, EVERYTHING was burning. Terrifying screams. Murmured words falling from thin lips like venom. The killing curse brought forth: the fowl words of death. The sounds of a newborn wailing, crying out for its mother. Crying out for comfort that was suddenly beyond its grasp. Those horrible words again, those words of death, and the baby stopped weeping only to give a final cry before nothing else was heard.

The scene was repeated over and over again before Harry's widened eyes. The young wizard was shivering, reliving events of his past that had predetermined his future. Although he vaguely realized that the results of his attempted murder were altered, he couldn't help but shake and weep with a broken heart as he watched his own destruction.

"That is you're destiny, Harry Potter. Never forget that. You were born to die at my hands, nothing more!"

"You're wrong!" The young wizard shouted back at the hissing voice, the voice of his arch enemy, Voldemort. "My destiny is to stop you!"

The voice chuckled, but the laugh was void of all apparent humor. "You plan to try and stop me, the all powerful wizard Voldemort? The wizard that was so powerful that he battled against death and won? The wizard who's name makes every wizard quake in fear? I doubt it, Harry Potter, I doubt it! You can barely save yourself!" The taunting voice laughed as Harry held back sobs.

Suddenly, with a noise that sounded like shattering glass, the vision before him was torn and shattered, the tiny bits left absorbing into the unseen ground. Released from the tormenting voice, Harry fell to his knees, the tears continuing to fall.

"You should see yourself, Potter. You look like the weak, sniveling brat I label you as. 'Tis a pity, really. I expected better from you."

"Go away, Malfoy," the young wizard snapped half-heartedly, refusing to tear his eyes away from the shifting ground below him. "I'm not in the mood."

He heard footsteps behind him and could practically feel Draco's presence behind him. "Oh," he continued, his tone mocking, "You're giving up so soon? Are you that easily broken, Potter? I find it hard to believe that the fate of the wizarding world—of my life—depends on such a crybaby!"

There was no reply.

Draco sighed, running his hand through his pale hair. "Don't tell me that you actually listened to that evil bastard. You didn't, did you?" He looked at the back of his rival.

Again, there was no answer.

He sighed again and turned to leave.

"He was right, wasn't he?" Harry's voice stopped him in his tracks, the emotionless tone sending guilty shivers down his spine. "Voldemort. He was right. I can't even defend myself against the Dursleys, against Muggles. How did I ever think I could stand a chance against a full trained wizard like him?" He hung his head in shame as new sobs wracked his frame.

Because Harry wasn't facing the Slytherin, he didn't notice the soft look in Draco's features at that moment. "You're pitying yourself, Potter," he pointed out, walking forward again, "And it's pathetic. Why are you listening to the words of you're enemy? Of course it's not true, it never is because the filthy Mudblood—" he spat this word out "— is trying to defeat you before you even go into battle! It's the simplest and, judging by your reaction, most effective tactic that he can use."

Harry didn't reply.

Draco sighed again. "Oh come on! Give me some feed back here! I'm going out of my way to try and cheer you up and you just sit there like the world's just ended! Wake up, Potter, you've been in worse predicaments than this and you've gotten out of them easily! Why is this so different?"

"Because there's no one here to help me."

"Potter!" Draco roared angrily, pacing back and forth, agitated, "Have you listened to a word I've said! Do you even realize that I'm standing behind you! I'm doing my best to save you from this Venus Fly trap of a nightmare before you end up committing suicide over it! You're not alone, you're not weak, but you are fucking getting on my nerves!" By this time the Slytherin was breathing heavily. "Stop it with all this useless self pity! I've never seen you pity yourself in the five years I've been your rival, so don't start now, or do you want to give me another reason to taunt you at school!"

There was a long silence between the two, only Draco's ragged breathing breaking it now and then.

After a while, he gave an exasperated sigh, flinging his hands up in defeat and spinning on his heels. "This is shit. I'm wasting my time on a pathetic excuse for a savior. Why? Why did I have to shatter that nightmare? Why did I have to do this? Why did I have to waste my time?" He began to walk away.

"Wait!"

The Slytherin did so and turned to see the young wizard back on his feet with a curious expression. "What?" Draco asked.

"What do you mean by 'shattering the nightmare'?"

Draco sighed. "What do you think it means, Potter? I—shattered—the—nightmare. I stopped it, I snapped it in half; I broke it just as easily as it broke you. Understand now, or should I put it in more simple terms so that your feeble mind can comprehend my meaning?"

"Why?"

He rolled his eyes. "Does that really matter?"

"Yes."

"You're being difficult, Potter."

"And you're not answering my question, Malfoy."

"Alright, fine," the Slytherin snapped angrily, turning around completely so he could face his rival squarely. "I discovered I had some power in this place so I decided to test it out. You were merely in the right place at the right time, that's all!"

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Then why were you trying to snap me out of my self pity?"

At this Draco looked away. "You looked pathetic. It's not good for my reputation if I'm rivals with a weakling, you know."

The young wizard nodded, disappointed for some reason as he looked away.

"Anyways," the Slytherin continued, "what got you so worked up that you couldn't defend yourself against the mildest of taunts? I'm certain that if I'd said that to you, you'd be too busy laughing your head off to think of an answer!"

Keeping his gaze downward, Harry sat down. "Why do you want to know? Out of things to tease me about already?"

Draco shrugged. "I'm just trying to keep a civil conversation for once. And, no, I have not run out of things to tease you about. Besides," he commented, looking around. "If I said anything about this people would ask me 'Why were you in Potter's dream' and 'Why'd you help him' and all that. It'll destroy me more than it would you."

"How very vain of you."

The Slytherin smirked. "You still haven't answered my question."

Harry sighed, his mood worsening and kept his gaze anywhere except his rival's. "Hedwig was taken away from me. By the Dursleys."

Draco stepped forward, frowning thoughtfully. "You mean the family of Muggles you're living with?" At Harry's nod he continued, "So? Why does that bother you so much? You can always get a new owl."

Harry shook his head. "You don't understand. Hedwig is too precious to be replaced. Haven't you ever had something that you treasured above anything else? Something that could never be replaced by something else?"

The Slytherin thought for a moment before nodding.

"Well, that's how I feel about Hedwig."

There was a short silence before Draco sat next to him. "I see. But how did it bother you that much?"

Harry chuckled, staring blankly ahead. "The year before I started attending Hogwarts, my life was close to being hell. Dudley, my cousin—" Harry added, seeing the Slytherin's confusion "—used me as a daily punching bag and my aunt and uncle never ceased to make my life miserable. And they still don't. Anyway, Hagrid came and saved me; brought me to Diagon Alley and showed me the world I really belong to." He took a moment to smile as he basked in the memory. "Then we went shopping for my stuff. He bought me Hedwig as a belayed birthday present." His smile twitched suddenly into a frown. "She was pretty much my only connection to Ron and Hermione."

He was punched roughly in the shoulder and turned to see Draco scowling at him. "Don't start that again." He warned, then in a more friendly tone he continued, "You speak as if the Weasel doesn't have a connection to his own owl and that Mudblood—" he ignored Harry's glare "— isn't smart enough to find one. You should know that sheisby now. Besides, it's not like you'll die without some reassurance from them."

Harry looked at him strangely. "You don't know the horrors the Dursleys are able to unleash."

Draco shrugged again. "You're right. I probably don't, however—" he leaned forward so that his silver eyes could lock with Harry's emerald green ones "—if they can't do something close to what that nightmare did, I'll have to disagree." When Harry looked at him, he shrugged, said, "Everyone has their own personal hell" and left it at that.

They sat in the silence for awhile, enjoying the presence of the other and gathering their thoughts.

"Malfoy?"

"Yeah? What?"

Harry stood. "Thanks." Wow, he thought, ironically, I never thought I'd say that to Malfoy!

Draco stood, brushing off his baggy black jeans and replying, "Don't get used to this, Potter. This is a one-time thing." Then, noticing Harry's clothes, his lip curled up in disgust and he pointed to them. "What in the world are you wearing, Potter? They look like they were once home to slugs!"

Harry looked down at himself and chuckled. "These are the only clothes I got besides my robes for school. I get second hand stuff from Dudley, always have."

"And you put up with it? You don't mind?"

"Hell yeah! Of course I mind!"

"Then why do you do nothing about it?"

Harry stared at him before looking away. "Because there's nothing I can do anyways."

Suddenly something in the background was pounding and a woman was shrieking at him to get up. Harry sighed before he turned to his rival. "Aunt Petunia. Well, I gotta go." He paused as he turned to leave. "Nice talking with you?"

Draco smirked. "I guess. Don't let that banshee push you around, Potter. I want to have some fun later."

Harry grinned, catching the hidden meaning. "Don't bet on it. Thanks again." With that he turned and disappeared into the shadows. The last thing he heard surprised him:

"We should do this again, Potter."


HARRY GROANED as he felt himself wrenched from the comforting dream by the sound of his Aunt's shrieking voice. "Get up, boy! You're wasting the morning!" With a final rap, and unlocking 'click' she left and bounded back down the stairs.

He groaned again as he slowly rose to his feet, realizing that his body was overly stiff. I must've fallen off the bed, he thought, stretching. And what a strange dream: talking with Malfoy. He chuckled as he moved to his dresser, picking out a clean change of clothes, vaguely realizing that something was amiss.

After he switched into baggy jeans and a new dull yellow-ish T-shirt, he realized what it was. Hedwig was gone, as was her cage. Despair washed over him.

"Stop it with all this useless self pity! I've never seen you pity yourself in the five years I've been your enemy, so don't start now, or do you want to give me another reason to taunt you at school!"

The words from his dream returned to him and his heart lifted. Even though he hated to admit it, the dream Malfoy was right, he never had pitied himself before and he shouldn't start now. Even if Hedwig was gone, he could still communicate with his friends. Ron had Pig and Hermione always found a way to hire an owl. Once they realized that he could no longer send messages, they'd start taking more of the initiative. He'd survive.

"Get down here, boy!" He heard his uncle roar, his tone impatient.

"Maybe I'll think about it later," he murmured to himself, smoothing his hair so it looked as though he attempted to brush it. "Yeah, I'll do that when I have more time." With that, he exited the room and headed down the stairs.


ADDING ANOTHER nick to his makeshift calendar above his bed, Harry sighed and carefully searched the room for his school books. He'd convinced his Aunt and Uncle that they would've had lots of wizards on their tail if they didn't let him do his homework over the summer. He'd had to hold back a laugh at their fearful expressions and pale faces. But it had worked; he could now keep his books in his room at all times. However, his wand and Firebolt, his trusted broomstick, were securely locked in the cupboard he once called his room.

He sighed. What he wouldn't give to be able to fly just once during the summer. He always enjoyed it during Quidditch practices and couldn't help but like the air better then the ground. Maybe I should pay more attention to those levitation charms, he mused, but then shook his head with a chuckle. Nah, Defense Against the Dark Arts is better.

He grinned when he remembered last year. Their Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher had been a politician from the Ministry of Magic, since the minister had had second thoughts about Dumbledore's intentions. His fellow peers had convinced him that they should start their own club so that they could properly learn the spells they read about in class. They'd also elected him as their leader and with the help of the Room of Requirement, they'd had a splendid time.

Thinking of the school, his thoughts strayed back to the strange dream he'd had. It had seemed and felt so real, and he hadn't experienced the numbing, role playing sensations he normally did in dreams. He was in total control. So did that mean that it was a vision or something?

What about Malfoy? He seemed a little out of character, too: not totally the arrogant and selfish brat that was his rival at school. Although he still ridiculed and taunted him in the dream, Harry could tell that Malfoy had his own hidden agenda that didn't include snapping his fragile ego in two with his bare hands. It was if…

Harry chuckled at himself for the plain foolishness and ridiculousness of the thought, but he couldn't ignore the slight ring of truth it held.

It was if Malfoy was trying to help him.

"That was definitely a dream," he murmured to himself after a small chuckle. "No way in a hundred years would Malfoy say stuff like that. Just a dream born of my hopeless situation, nothing more."

"We should do this again, Potter." Had he really said that, or was that just another part of Harry's delusional mind trying to make the situation better? These thoughts were too confusing.

Giving a long, suffering sigh, Harry turned of the light and disappeared under the covers of his bed, hoping he'd be better prepared to face the next day. The thoughts of the confusing dream haunted him all through the night.


Hope you all liked it! As I said before, this is my first Harry Potter fic. If you like it, I'll continue it!

Well, R&R but no flames. Thank you!