Thought I was gone, eh? Well, nope. I have returned after along break and I've brought with me a new story. I will take this time to warn you all: updates may not be frequent as I often suffer from writer's block. Okay... Quick summary: This is AU for the most part. This could really turn out to be a long story. I'm not sure just yet, but it's promising to be more than ten chapters, I think. Harry Potter is a regular high school kid with enough on his shoulders - class, friends, peers, work. Now, on top of that, he's having nightmares of a magical, horrible battle. Is he going crazy...?

Future Warnings: violence, possible swearing, homosexual relationships/scenes, abuse... um... all I can think of for now. If any of this should bother you do not flame me, just go read something else. I will put warnings in the chapters which contain any of the aforementioned and anything else I think someone may have a problem with. Again, if this is offensive to you in any way, shape or form, just go find some story that doesn't offend you. I do not need to hear of your disapproval of it. Thank you.

Disclaimer: Sadly, don't own it. It all belongs to J. K. Rowling, who I am not. NO FINANCIAL GAIN FOR ME! Don't own any bands mentioned in this fic, either. Um... I'm sure more will be added to this as I go along...

Chapter 1 - Nutters

Around them, the battle had come to a halt. Everyone had stopped and momentarily forgotten the carnage. All eyes were focused on the two figures standing in the middle of what had become a wide circle of death and destruction. The scent of death was on the wind. Two stood facing each other, but only one would walk away alive... This is what the entire wizarding world had been waiting for for near 17 years. By the end of this battle, their lives would be changed forever.

Harry Potter raised his wand cautiously. This was it... This was the utlimate test. This would tell whether he was the saviour of the world, the Boy Who Lived, or if he was just a big failure. All of the hopes and dreams of his friends, the Order, everyone were resting on his young shoulders. He drew a deep breath. There was no way he could let them down. No way at all. The man in front of him had killed countless witches and wizards and muggles, had destroyed homes, families, futures. It had to end tonight!

Lord Voldemort eyed his rival. So, this was what Dumbledore sent him? A boy, not even a man yet? He could still smell the last lingerings of childhood clinging to Harry as they circled, preparing for their duel. He could see that innocent spark desperately clawing, trying to remain in the depths of those emerald eyes. He could see a reflection of himself, of what he used to be in the boy standing in front of him. Yes, they were not very different, he and Harry Potter. Aside from the fact that Harry would be no more than a cold corpse on the battlefield when this was finished. Too bad they could not have been allies, Voldemort thought in a slightly wistful manner. He could have brought Harry up in his image... What a pair they would have made... Alas, but Harry had to die.

The two continued to walk in a slow circle. Neither attacked, trying to anticipate the other's first move. Rage boiled in Harry as he remember his parents, the Longbottoms, Sirius, everyone taken away from him, all of their deaths caused by Voldemort. He remembered his past encounters with this man - how he had barely escaped with his life and those of Ron and Hermione. Ron... Hermione... His eyes strayed briefly to where Molly Weasley was cradling her youngest son, detached from the battle, Ron barely conscious and holding his limp wand arm that was bleeding profously. It didn't matter, it was like he was still next to Harry. Even in his helplessness, he was standing beside his best mate. He would be with Harry to the end, no matter the outcome. Hermione was closer to him, her hands now limp around Draco Malfoy's throat. They, like the others on the scene, had paused in their combat to watch the ultimate battle. This was, afterall, what it all boiled down to. Harry wouldn't disappoint any of them. He wouldn't disappoint himself... After he won this final match, he could live a peaceful life. Peaceful... That word seemed foregin to him. Had he ever known a peaceful day in his life?

"CRUCIO!"

Harry barely had time to tuck and roll in order to aviod the curse flung at him. He'd allowed his attention to drift, and Voldemort had taken advantage of this. He was quickly on his feet again and without a moment's hesitation, he reacted with a curse of his own. It had begun now. Voldemort continued to fire curse after curse at him, and Harry barely managed to dodge them. Finally, he managed to send Voldemort's wand flying over the heads of the onlookers and off into the distance somewhere. In the process, the Dark Lord was sent flying back against a stone wall. He landed on the ground in a heap.

It was here Harry made his greatest mistake. He approached Voldemort's limp form, wand raised, walking slowly. His instincts told him not to get any closer. They told him to stand far away and hex the hell out of this villian. But he didn't listen. There was something drawing him to the body, something he couldn't describe, and he couldn't deny it. Using the toe of his shoe, he started to turn Voldemort over.

This had been what Voldemort had been waiting for. He launched himself at the Boy Who Lived, and managed to knock Harry's wand out of his hand. Before the shock wore off of the spectators, Voldemort's hands were around Harry's neck, gripping with all of his strength, determined to crush the boy's windpipe. He smiled in satisfaction as Harry's face started turning red. This wasn't exactly how he pictured killing Harry Potter. No, in fact, his vision had involved all kinds of delightful torture to the boy before finally ending his life. This would have to do, though. He had underestimated Harry. The boy could actually kill him, given the chance. Voldemort would end this now. He rather liked living.

"Say hello to your mother for me, Harry," Voldemort hissed as he, with the aid of the adrenaline pumping through his body, managed to tighten his hold on the smooth neck in his hands.

Harry's eyes rolled back in his head. No... This couldn't be... This wasn't the way it was supposed to happen... He was letting everyone down. Yet, he hadn't the stregth to lift his arms and defend himself against Voldemort. The battle was over... He'd lost...

Soon, his head stopped spinning. His lungs didn't burn anymore, nor did the scar on his forehead. Nothing hurt anymore. He didn't feel... anything. Then he saw himself, still in Voldemort's grasp. He looked peaceful and pale. His body was beginning to stop struggling. He was dying... 'NO! NO, STOP! DON'T GIVE UP!' he shouted at his body. 'YOU CAN'T LET HIM WIN!' He turned at the sound of sobs. Hermione, sitting on the ground, was crying... for him... because he, the last hope of the wizarding world, was dying.

'FIGHT BACK! PLEASE! DO SOMETHING!'

Voldemort's mouth opened. Harry knew what was coming... But, curiously, it wasn't the victorious cry Harry had expected that came from Voldemort's lips.

"BUZZ! BUZZ! BUZZ!"

Harry jumped up in his bed, falling off the edge in the process. A dream... it had all been a bad dream... His hands went up about his neck. He could still feel those deathly-cold hands around his neck, cutting off his breath, crushing his whole neck. He shivered. These dreams were getting to be too much for him... He was beginning to think that he was going completely nutters.

He untangled his leg from the bedsheet then grabbed some clothes for the day. He needed a shower to wash away the cold sweat from his body. The bathroom was wide open this morning. This was a first. Harry was just three steps away, smiling gratefully. Usually, he couldn't get to the shower in the mornings because --

His train of thought was cut off as his younger sister darted past him and into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind her. For a moment or two, he stood there and stared stupidly at the door. Every damn time... He headed back to his room with a resigned sigh. Chloe had once more beaten him to the bathroom, and he knew full well that his younger sister wouldn't be out in time for him to shower. He hoped he didn't stink too bad as he put on some of his dad's cologne just in case.

Dressed and ready to face another grueling day at high school, Harry hurried downstairs for breakfast. Lily Potter was sitting at the table, spooning food into the waiting mouth of seven-month-old Jason Alexander Potter. It was pea day, and the green mess was running down his chubby little baby face as he attempted to spit it out. Not that Harry could blame him, peas were disgusting. James Potter was standing at the island in the middle of the kitchen, reading a paper and sipping his coffee. He was dressed neatly in a casual suit, an apron over it. He smiled over the rim of his coffee cup as his oldest son grabbed a muffin and headed over to the table.

"More bad dreams, Harry," Lily asked, not adverting her eyes away from the task of feeding Jason.

"You heard me yelling again?"

"Mmhmm... Harry, would you like to talk about them?" James looked at his son worriedly. These dreams had been going on for nigh on a month now, and this was the third time Harry's shouting had alerted them. Still, Harry had refused to talk about them with either of his parents.

"No, Dad, I'm fine... I'm sure it's just the stress getting to me. What with deciding on colleges and keeping my grades up, and... well, school in general, really. I just need to relax. Trust me, everything's fine."

"Aside from the fact ickle Harrykins is going nutters."

Chole Potter came into the kitchen, smirking at Harry. She was dressed in her usual punker apparel: dark eyeliner, red hair with black high-lights put up in the latest fashion, sporting a Sex Pistols shirt and raggy blue jeans that were a few sizes too small. Her headphones were around her neck, blaring a My Chemical Romance song overly loud. Harry wanted to grab hold of her eyebrow piercing and... He wasn't one for violence, but his younger sister sure could bring him close to it.

"Chloe, don't say things like that about your brother," reprimanded Lily, still feeding Jason. "Harry is not going nutters, nor will he anytime soon. James, love, you'd better stop dallying or you'll be late."

"Right," James said. He made a face like he was hanging himself, causing Harry to chuckle and Chloe to roll her eyes, pretending to think her father uncool, but the action elicted a small smile from her nonetheless.

James kissed his wife, the baby, and his two older offspring before heading out the door to work. The life of an insurance agent wasn't the most dazzling or interesting, but it did put food on the table, and that James could handle.

A car horn beeped outside. Gathering his school things, Harry got to his feet.

"That'll be Ron and Hermione. I've got work later, Mum, so I won't be home 'til 5. Love you."

"Love you too."

Harry headed outside to his ride. Hermione was parked at the curb, Ginny in the passenger's side and Ron in the back. Ron reached over and opened the door for him, taking Harry's stuff then tossing it in the floorboard with his own school junk. Closing the door, Harry smiled at his friends as Hermione pulled out of the neighborhood and headed towards the school.

"What's the matter, Harry," Hermione asked from the front, her eyes making contact with his in the rear view mirror. "You look a bit peaky."

"I don't look peaky, do I?"

"No, she's right, you look peaky," piped Ginny.

"You do look a little peaky, mate," Ron put in.

"No, I'm fine. Promise."

"Are you sure? You do look a little --"

"Ron," Harry said. "If you tell me I look peaky once more, I'll bludgen you. All right?"

"Fine..."

Ron smiled at Harry. They had been friends since they were in elementary school. He knew that something was bothering Harry, but his stubborn friend wouldn't tell him until he was good and ready. That was fine with Ron, though. Harry was his best mate. He'd stand by Harry to the end, not matter the outcome. Besides, Harry was about the only person who didn't treat him like the little brother of any of his brothers. Bill, the star athelete. Charlie, the heartbreaker. Percy, the genius. Fred and George, the troublemakers. To Harry, he was Ron and that was enough for him. He didn't have to prove himself to Harry, he didn't have to strive to find something one of his brothers hadn't already accomplished to be special in Harry's eyes. This was just one of the many reasons they were best mates.

Ginny reached over and turned up the stero as a Flogging Molly song came on. Harry sighed, relaxing. Another day of school... He absolutely hated his high school, the student body, and especially a few of the teachers. The only good thing about school would be that he would be too busy to think about his nightmares. Besides, he had his friends. Just knowing they were there to listen to his problems was enough for Harry, even if he didn't feel comfortable talking about dreams of wizards and magic to them. They'd probably think he was nutters. Bloody hell, he thought he was nutters. Maybe he really was going nutters... Oh well, no time to think of that now. The high school loomed threateningly in front of them.