A/N: So, I'm finally writing a Harry Potter fic. I'm not going to tell you the pairing, it will become rather obvious within the first few chapters. Any similarities to other stories are purely coincidental as I wrote this totally randomly.

Spoilers: PS/SS, CoS, PoA, GoF, OotP

Intemporaliter Reus vobis

Harry was sitting on his bed, looking out at the stormy night sky. So far the year had been fine, no visions, only a few attacks, and no deaths. It was actually rather amazing. He had done well on his OWLs at the end of last year, even with everything that had happened. He hadn't passed History of Magic or Divination but then again he wasn't expecting to. Nor had his grade been high enough for Astronomy, he had only had an A after all. He was happy with the rest of his grades though – an E in Charms and Care of Magical Creatures, and Outstandings in both Transfiguration and DADA. His biggest surprise came in Potions, where he scored an O. He was pretty sure Snape wasn't happy that he had managed to get his NEWT-level class – he had been pretty dead set on the fact that there was no way Potter could possibly get the highest score on the OWL with his skills. He had seen the surprise on his face when he came in the first day but Snape had quickly covered it with disgust.

He shifted restlessly, remembering that any visions over the summer would have made things infinitely worse. He hadn't known what had caused the viciousness to escalate until he came back to Hogwarts in September. It didn't change things though – just made him even less trustworthy of the old coot. After everything he had been through in fifth year, ending with Sirius going through the veil, and the moment he got back to number 4 Privet Drive, he had been literally dragged up the stairs by his hair and thrown into the ratty bedroom. He could hear the locks slam into place and in his gut knew that this summer was going to be hell. Harry shook his head – that was an understatement. The first couple of days he was given his normal chores and then one night he made the mistake of glaring at Dudley when he thought no one was looking. His uncle had beat him so badly that he was sure he had at least a few broken ribs. After that, he wasn't even allowed out of the room. He was just given water and chunks of bread every few days, a single bathroom break every day, and a beating every time either Vernon or Dudley came in the room, though it was Vernon more often than not.

By the time Remus and Tonks had come to get him, he was suffering from dehydration, malnutrition, and multiple injuries, visible and otherwise. He recalled how Madam Pomphrey had fussed over him. He had played it off as nothing when the Weasleys had come with Hermione in tow. He remained tight-lipped for the rest of the summer holiday.

He laid down on the bed and burrowed under the covers. His fellow sixth years were all asleep around him. He closed his eyes and almost immediately was in a dark room. He could see white-masked men and cursed – why now of all times? He saw a woman on the floor and flinched as a cold voice spoke to his left. "Crucio!" The woman screamed and Harry grit his teeth, trying to keep his own mouth shut. He backed up a few steps and froze as red eyes pinned him in place. His scar split open and he screamed. He woke to hands roughly shaking him and Ron's worried face hovering over him.

"Mate, wake up!" Harry grabbed for his glasses and slowly focused on Ron's face.

'I'm okay, Ron, just a nightmare."

"You sure? Bloody hell, I thought you had been hurt or something."

"I'm sure. Go back to sleep." The emerald-eyed boy watched his best friend walk back to his bed and silently cursed. He should have known that it had been too quiet recently. His thoughts drifted from Ron to Hermione and Ginny and Neville, and he wondered what would happen to them. They were in a war now and Harry wasn't sure if he could protect them from the red-eyed man who had taken his parents. Dumbledore and the rest of the Order claimed that he didn't need to protect them; all he needed to do was stay safe himself and keep out of trouble, but trouble always found him regardless. He rolled over onto his side and went back to sleep, red snake eyes at the forefront of his mind.