Chapter 1

The Vision

Disclaimer: Look, if OWNED them, I wouldn't be writing FANfiction! You don't see JK Rowling here do ya? This applies for the prologue and at least the next four chapters- it'll be that long until I remember to do another one!

Thank-you C'mon, Silver Mirror and Labrat-Speedy for their reviews and encouragement. You dudettes rock!

RELOADED TO SORT SOME BUGS

Harry woke up with a start in the small room in No.4, Privet Drive. He relaxed slightly- it was okay, there were the oh-so-familiar walls, the narrow scratchy bed- it was okay...he woke up rather more as the events of the last few days flooded back to him. It was the Christmas holidays and he was stuck here for a few days. Harry was supposed to be going to the Weasleys' tomorrow but he'd had to return to Privet Drive for a few days to renew the protection- hopefully in lieu of being stuck here over the summer. The Dursleys had not been happy to see him and had made it very pointedly clear. Their animosity was only slightly tempered by the news of a possible Harry-free summer. Of course, came an unbidden thought, if Voldemort's annual murder attempt actually works for once, all their summers will be Harry-free.

He shook the unpleasant thoughts out of his mind and lay back again before sitting up suddenly-the dream! No- the vision! It was coming back to him now and what he remembered made his eyes widen in panic…RON! He had to warn him…or at least find out if it was true. Scrambling out of bed, he automatically skipped over the plank in the floor that squeaked . He took up some parchment and hunted about for a quill. In the absence of one, he used a biro. He chewed the end of it in thought and the images flashed through his mind once more.

Okay then…narrow laneway- trees on either side- looked familier…the Burrow! Dark- half-moon. Three figures walking- his best friend Ron…and Ginny…He felt his cheeks heat up a small bit…Ron's little sister! His thoughts finished sternly. And…who was that? Percy Weasley. The older Weasley brother was ranting from the look of it- arms gesticulating angrily as he tried to make a point. His face, normally petulant, bland or exasperated was red and animated. Voices faded in.

"Ron- It is not safe for either of you to be with that boy! I'm saying this for your own good!"

Hah…two guesses as to what that row was about.

"Dangerous? For us? Or for your precious career! Come on Percy, I don't suppose it's good for the future Minister of Magic to have family consorting with someone who's 'disturbed and dangerous'…" Ron wasn't shouting, but his words carried a bitter, mocking edge even more dangerous. Harry'd only once had that edge directed at him, and he hoped not to be on the receiving side again.

Percy looked like he wanted to physically attack his younger bother and was only restraining himself by dint of effort and practice. He opened his mouth again but never got to say anything.

"Stupefy!" A flash of light flew out of a hedge and narrowly missed Ron's head.

All three Weasleys spun to face the threat, wands coming out and pointed towards the roadside. There was nowhere to hide. Three shadows glided out onto the road, two blocking the route to safety. Percy, the row shelved for the moment, stepped in front of his younger siblings and demanded to know what they wanted.

"Three Weasleys? My Master will be pleased."

It's Malfoy! Harry's mind screamed. Death-Eaters! Ron, Ginny! Get out of there!

"Immobilis!" Ron shouted, wand pointed at one of the two Death-Eaters who so far hadn't spoken. It was a good curse, Harry noted. And it connected too, leaving them with one less enemy. Ginny's Stupefy and Percy's full body-bind took care of the other two. But…

"Reducto!" someone hissed. Backup! The curse glanced off Percy and sent him spinning into the hedge, leaving Ron and Ginny open to attack. They weren't defenceless but surrounded as they quickly were, it was a hopeless battle. A green light flashed…

Even as all this flew through Harry's mind he was writing feverishly. He had to get this to Dumbledore. Had he just imagined the green light? He'd woken up too quickly to know for sure…He hoped…prayed he had…but a gnawing fear told him otherwise.

"Hedwig!" The snowy owl let out a sleepy hoot. She'd returned from hunting already and wanted a nap. But she seemed to recognise the seriousness of the situation and, with a resigned sort of bird-sigh she hopped up and let him tie on the message. He'd not put in all the detail- just;

"Sir, Had another dream- Ron, Ginny and Percy attacked outside the Burrow. Death-Eaters including Malfoy. Will send full later. Harry"

He hoped it made sense. He also felt rather sorry to send Hedwig out into the cold December night but it really was important.

"Dumbledore, Hedwig. Thanks girl." Hedwig hooted again, reassuringly this time and flew silently into the night.

"WILL YOU SHUT THAT RUDDY BIRD UP!"

Maybe not quite silent.

There was no way he could go back to sleep now. He paced, sat, even in desperation tried reading one of Dudley's rejected books, throwing it onto the bed after reading the first line six times. It made no more sense the sixth time then it had the first. Mind you, it was called Quake III, The Backstory, so maybe it wasn't meant to.

He glared balefully at the door of his -no, Dudley's second- bedroom. In which he was as welcome as dry rot. And treated in much the same way. Pretend it's not there- maybe we can convince it it's not there too. Although dry rot didn't tend to have to paint the house, wash the windows and do the gardening all within two days of appearing.

Come on, Hedwig! he thought desperately, aware that his thought process was not only ridiculous, but getting dangerously self-pitying.

Bring me some good news!

Hedwig returned later that night- close to dawn and a relieved Harry nearly jumped on her to retrieve the…two? messages attached to her leg. The owl ruffled her feathers in displeasure at his haste and he apologised to her, but didn't pause as he opened the note with shaking hands. Albus Dumbledore's neat flowing script took up the small scroll.

Dear Harry,

I was at the Burrow this evening and I can assure you that no attack took place. The younger Mr. Weasley and Miss Weasley are safe in Grimmauld Place and the elder is already back in London. No Death-Eaters breached the wards.

Harry sighed with relief, the nervous energy deserting him suddenly and leaving his legs weak. He flopped back down on the bed. It had felt so real… He continued;

Nevertheless, you did the right thing in telling me about this, and I commend both your speed and conciseness. It is possible that the attack was planned by Voldemort but not carried out. Or even perhaps that it was just a dream. We do not know the full extent of your connection with him as yet.

You may come here tomorrow as previously arranged, if you still wish it. Mrs. Weasley and Sirius have both been quite adamant on the subject.

Hmm…don't sound too happy there, Professor- your beard might catch fire, Harry couldn't help but think. He smiled wryly at the last comment. Sounded like Dumbledore had been on the receiving end of a lecture. And Sirius and Mrs Weasley teamed up would be quite a formidable team. He couldn't blame Dumbledore for acquiescing! The smile turned wistful. It was nice to be going somewhere where he was wanted (He tried to keep Percy Weasley's words out of his head.) The rest of the letter was mainly taken up with a sign-off and Professor Dumbledore's rather long signature. He opened the other note curiously. The messy scrawl gave it away immediately- Ron!

Hey mate, Harry read. Looked like Ron had just been woken up.

Nothing's going on here unless it could have been a vision…you know, like a prophecy? Does this thing work like that? Ask Hermione, maybe. Anyway, had a row with Percy, the git, earlier today outside, but nothing came of it. Went back inside and played exploding snap with the twins and he wandered off to sulk somewhere. You know what he's like.

Harry frowned- yes, he did. And how did he know? Because he'd been privy to the conversation in his dream! But…how could only one half of it happen? Or was it just co-incidence? And that green light?

Anyway, they say you can definitely come tomorrow and stay over Christmas! Great! And don't mind the Big-Head Boy. He'll get over it…eventually. Signing off, Hedwig's getting a bit impaatient!

The last word was scrawled particularly messily, as if the writer was busy fending off someone. Harry automatically reached out and petted the white owl who was standing beside him, back turned, offended at being apparently ignored.

"Sorry girl." he murmured to her. "And thanks for being so quick." He gave her some owl-treats (which she huffily accepted), finished the letter and made the best of the short time he had left before dawn.

He was woken early by the dulcet tones of the harpy and the roaring of the minotaur. (Right, no more Greek legends for you, Potter, he thought fuzzily to himself as he fumbled for his glasses.) His uncle still had to go to work so he could be useful and earn his keep was general gist of her curt, angry speech. But she said her piece in a lower voice then usual- obviously not wanting to waken her poor tired-out Duddikins, who had a long day ahead terrorising the neighbouring children. And if it meant she wouldn't shriek like a wounded banshee in his ear then Harry supposed he was grateful.

He swung his legs out of bed and proceeded to get up in stages- brain, as usual, last to engage. It had been a long night.

His brain cells kicked into gear while he was making breakfast (An English fry for his uncle and aunt and maybe porridge for himself if he got time.) Maybe it was the smell of the rashers, but it prodded his thinking-processes into moving and he mulled over the events of the previous night.

His distraction caused him the immortal sin of dropping a rasher on the tablecloth instead of his aunt's plate. He rescued it with the spatula but hot fat had already penetrated the tablecloth. Aunt Petunia looked at him with horror and disgust and Harry shrugged impatiently, suddenly not having the time or the patience for this rubbish.

"Sorry." his sense of self-preservation muttered, but Uncle Vernon was already turning purple. Harry wondered if this was to be the "You are rubbish, boy, and we took you in out of the goodness of our hearts…" lecture or the "How dare you, after all we've done for you…" speech.

"How dare you, after all we've done for you…" Vernon started. Harry relaxed slightly. Number 13, it could be worse. "You are rubbish, boy, like your rubbishy parents and we took you in out of the goodness of our hearts…" Harry's eyebrows shot up. Number 4 as well- he was honoured today. Oy… Number 4 was a pain. He had to repress the urge to turn all three of them into newts.

"ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME, BOY?" came the roar. Belatedly, Harry snapped back to attention to hear in detail how his parents were worthless malingerers, sponging off others and how he was just as bad, if not worse. Once, these words would have upset Harry a lot, but he knew more about Lily and James Potter now, and the lies didn't hurt as much. I'm going to Grimmauld place for Christmas! I'm going today- I'll see Sirius and Ron and Ginny (the tips of his ears turned red again) eh...and the twins and Mrs. Weasley! he finished quickly.

The lecture was finished soon enough- Vernon was in a hurry, but his moment's inattention cost Harry his breakfast. He ran upstairs, not even the growling of his stomach or Uncle Vernon's worst shouting could keep him from being happy and excited as he pushed the memory of the dream, with it's eerie green light, from his mind.

Well, another chapter done- this one was quite hard to do for some reason- but it's done and possibly even dusted.

And to Labrat- grins evilly I couldn't possibly say...hehehe... But I like your thinking!

AZ