Disclaimer: I obviously don't own Harry Potter. It is owned by J.K Rowling.

A/n: Wow, this is a milestone, definitely. The first fanfic I've written since December 2002! Well, I certainly hope my fantabulistic fanfiction writing skills haven't withered away in the long, long years I've been away.

Anyway, this story is actually a short one shot written for a contest on mugglenet. Essentially, we have to write our version of the opening to book seven in 1000 words or less. I thought of a lot of ways JK Rowling would start the book, and finally I settled on this idea. It just seems understandable that Harry would have these thoughts, even if just for a moment.

It was an interesting challenge and I hope mine is up to snuff. The actual Top Five entries will be announced on the site tomorrow, Januray 10, so I'm obviously on pins and needles. If you're interested feel free to vote for your favourite.

Snape's Message

"Happy Birthday, Harry!"

The words rang like a chorus in the air. Harry grinned as he peered over the mountain of beautifully wrapped presents that covered the kitchen table from corner to corner. Although his parents never spared any expense when it came to his birthday, this year they had outdone themselves by far. Of course, their gifts were accompanied by presents from Hermione and the Weasleys, all of whom had joined the Potters in celebrating Harry's seventeenth birthday. As they all sat together, talking, laughing, and admiring the fairies conjured up to decorate the Potter's kitchen, he could think of no other way he'd rather spend his birthday.

"Everyone, thank you for coming," Harry said quietly. "To tell you the truth, I didn't expect all this."

"And why not, Harry?" asked Mr. Weasley, from the end of the table. "This is a special occasion! Isn't it, James?"

James Potter was positively beaming as he sat across from him, wedged in between his wife and his best friend. "It's not every day your son becomes an adult," he said. His mother's brilliant green eyes twinkled with pride as she nodded in agreement.

"Precisely, James," a familiar wizened voice chimed from the other end of the table. Albus Dumbledore stood, reaching for his cup. "Well then, I believe this particularly poignant moment calls for a toast."

Sirius was the first on his feet, grabbing his cup excitedly and raising it high. It did not take long for the others to follow suit.

"To Harry Potter."

"To Harry!" the chorus rang again. Suddenly, Harry felt lips pressing against his cheek. When he turned his head he saw Ginny, staring down at him playfully.

"To you," she whispered.

Harry's head was swimming with elation as he sat surrounded by the most important people in his life. It simply could not get any better than this.

"Now really, Potter, are you stilldeluding yourself?"

It was as though he had been doused with ice cold water. As soon as he heard those words, Harry shot out of his chair, knocking it over. He knew that voice. But it couldn't be him. It couldn't be…

With his heart pounding in his chest, he whipped around. There, standing a few feet away was Severus Snape. A sudden darkness fell around them, almost as though it had been cued. Harry watched in horror as it washed over his friends and family. Soon, the love and warmth of his perfect day was gone.

"It's a pity, isn't it?" sneered Snape. "And it was such a touching scene."

Harry's wand had suddenly appeared in his pocket and without thinking, his hands flew to it. As the hatred pulsed through his veins, he aimed, ready to inflict pain on the figure that stood before him. However, he couldn't remember a single spell. His mind was completely blank. In helpless frustration, Harry stared back at Snape, who had already begun walking towards him.

"That's right, Potter. Things are not quite what they seem. They seldom are."

Snape put his hands behind his back and cocked his head to the side, examining Harry coldly as he slowly continued towards him.

"For instance, take that…quaint little fantasy you created for yourself. Mother and father, bursting with pride as they celebrate their only son's entrance into adulthood." He shook his head as if disappointed. "Could it be that you're trying to hide from reality? From the truth?"

The sound of a woman screaming pierced through Harry's mind and at once he knew the voice belonged to his mother. Then he could hear his father, yelling desperately at his wife to take their infant son and escape.

Somewhere else off in the distance he could hear the cackling of Bellatrix Lestrange, just after she had dealt the blow that took his godfather's life. It was true. They were dead. They were all dead…

"Regrettably, it doesn't surprise me. 'Truth', it seems, is a concept that eludes you quite often. Instead you believe what you want to believe…see what you want to see."

Severus…please…

Those were the last words of the greatest wizard of all time, and the closest thing Harry had ever had to a father. The light had left his blue eyes forever.

Because of him.

As Harry stared back at Dumbledore's murderer, a violent anger began to bubble up inside of him. He wanted nothing more than to make Snape pay for his crime, but his mind had failed him yet again.

"Do you know what that tells me, Potter? It tells me that you are not yet ready to face the Dark Lord."

Finally, when he was no more than a few steps away from Harry, Snape stopped. His dark eyes met Harry's glare without so much as flinching.

"Nor myself."

Harry couldn't take it anymore. Casting his wand aside, he lunged at him, his hands reaching for his throat. Before they could find their target, Snape took one smooth step to the side and caught his left wrist. Harry tried to free himself, but Snape's grip was like a vice. Snape leaned in so close that Harry could feel his hot breath on his ear.

"Things are not what they seem," Snape whispered ominously. "Remember that, boy."

Unable to cast a spell, unable to even move, Harry was completely at Snape's mercy. For one brief terrifying moment, he was sure that his former professor was going to use this opportunity to finish him off for good. However, to his utter bewilderment, Snape let him go and stepped back. The two stared at each other silently for what seemed like forever. Finally, Snape opened his mouth one last time.

"Wake up."

And so he did. The next thing Harry knew, he was lying wide awake in his cold, uncomfortable bed in Godric's Hollow, Snape's malicious face still swimming horribly in the deepest regions of his mind.

A/n: As I writer, I'm fed on a steady diet of constructive criticism.So any comments/critique would be muchappreciated:)