Author's Note: Chapter Two is New, Improved and Fat-free so read it even if you have read the original. Actually, just read the section at the bottom if you have already read the original chap and skim the beginning for chages because they are subtle and clue-filled!

Disclaimer: Harry Potter isn't mine. JK Rowling owns him. I'm a poor kid from Kentucky so don't sue. There's no money to take.

On a lonely summer night, a boy sat under a tree; he was asleep, no, he was stirring despite himself. The boy could hear the pounding of the footsteps approaching and knew that they were fighting again just a few steps away. The boy feared what would happen if they heard him move even slightly, but there was more pressing matter at hand: his dream. He longed to hold on to it just a little longer, to see her one more time, thoseenchanting blue eyes. He envisioned the way her tender skin gleamed in the magnificent lunar light. It was a slightly dirty feeling.

Harry had never felt quite like this. He had been shaken up by a girl he had only seen. The lust that filled the air damned his soul. Love was a slow, timely process not a sudden jolt of emotions. Why was the world so damn confusing all of a sudden? He wished to caress her face in a very unnatural way that had seemed so innocent at first, but had turned into a very sexual feeling of passion and lust. His feelings for Cho had ended and a whole new relationship had begun out of a simple boyish dream of perfection, which had turned into a reality through an actual dream. No other girl was like her. No other girl was as good as her, as pure as her, as beautiful.

Actually, two relationships had bloomed recently; the second being a relationship with Hermione that had grown out of lonely feelings while at the Dursley's over the summer. She had become so solid and accessible yet so distant and unreachable compared to a dream girl. Her letters were becoming more slyly sensual and intimate. Love had bloomed and was in full swing. Love, for someone going-on-sixteen was used lightly, but Harry was afraid of love, afraid of having feelings for a person that he knew that he would loose. Loss had become a common theme in Harry's life. He had seen more and experienced more than most ever would in his first few years of life. So much lie ahead of him that even thinking of it made his head throb with pain.

It was unthinkable that he was so alone in the world and at the same time so close with two people that were as distant as humanly possible. The drip of the rain was too constant for him to be back in his leaky-roofed room, which meant he was somewhere he did not think he could have been. As his consciousness made him more and more aware, he realized how loud the footsteps were getting, how close they were. It was the ring of a pair of boots on pavement. He dreaded that sound more than he dreaded anything at that moment. There was so much pain, such anger. He could hear the yelling, the screeches of pain in the back of his mid, but they weren't close. This was a feeling that would never leave him. It would haunt Harry Potter until the day he died.

'Oh no,' he thought as he awoke and saw who was staring down at him.

Flash forward

There was crying in the distance. Harry could hear the sobbing, but he couldn't see her. How he longed to be with her, to comfort her. Amidst the blinding lights that surrounded him, he could see something far off. It was her. He rushed off suddenly, running as fast as he possibly could to her, but he wished he hadn't found her when he reached her. She sat on a marble bench crying in the arms of another man.

He wasn't as old as Harry had expected, but he looked more aged than he was. He had a short, brown beard and his eyes were impossibly bright. They looked like her eyes. Harry stopped moving towards her abruptly. She stopped crying, but didn't even make an effort to wipe the other tears away. The man that was holding her looked up from her and glared at Harry.

His look wasn't as cold as it made Harry feel. It wasn't cold at all. There was no hatred for anyone in this man's heart. She smirked slightly as she glanced at Harry. Four words were all that could escape her mouth. Four simple words that hurt Harry more than anything.

"Look what you've done."

With a sudden flash, Harry was back in the Department of Mysteries. Everything that he had seen was gone from his view. There was no crying woman. No man comforting her when Harry should have been holding her tight. There was just the darkness of the room and that evil veil.

Harry rushed back to the door he had been at before. He didn't struggle to open it though. He just stood there and stared at it. The immense feeling of hatred was replaced by pain. His scar was suddenly aching as it hadn't ached in a long while. Then he heard the most dreadfully terrifying voice Harry had ever heard. This was the last thing that he could have wanted. A certain person was back to settle his vendetta.

"See what you've done to her Harry. See all the trouble you've caused. You should have just stayed away from her."

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