At 11 pm the car pulled into the driveway of the house which Harry should have never been visiting again.

The neighborhood seemed deserted and all the lights in the Dursley's house were out.

Mrs. White seemed in a hurry as she turned off the ignition and lifted Harry out of the vehicle.

"Come on." She whispered, looking up and down the street as though it were illegal for them to be there.

Being quite honest, it almost was. It's not like it wasn't nearing midnight and Harry hadn't been removed from the house earlier that day.

They seemed to be waiting for an eternity out on the porch while they waited for the door to be answered. A light went on just inside the door and it took a moment longer for the door to be open.

"What are you doing here," came a growl from a larger man shadowed by the light, "You know you're not supposed to be here."

"Sorry, but I wouldn't have come unless it were an emergency."

"Exactly, what kind of emergency requires you to bring the kid here?"

"Maddy forgot something when she had someone sent over to pack a bag for Harry. We're here to retrieve it, we'll only be minute." She said as she tried to squeeze through the door frame and past the man.

He was quick enough to prevent this attempt, and stepped against the frame and pulled the door tight against his side, "What kind of something?"

"Something of sentimental value to him."

"That hardly gives me any information."

"Look Mister, I am here for business, there is no other reason I would dare bring this boy back here. Now let us through."

The venom in her voice was not to be disobeyed, and it seemed the man lost his defiance. His hand shifted the door open wide and his body pressed against it, leaving an open space for them to pass through.

Mrs. White pulled Harry past him and pushed him in front of herself.

Immediately, for fear of losing his chance, he took off up the stairs and towards his room.

He knew exactly where his room was.

He could hear Mrs. White right behind him and the man hot on her heels. They caught up with Harry right as he reached his door.

Harry yanked on doorknob but it wouldn't open. Looking up, he concluded that some of the locks had been bolted earlier.

He eagerly jumped at them in an attempt to unlock them, but they were out of his reach.

He pleaded with his eyes to the two adults with him. Their hard expression stared unseeingly at the locks on the cupboard.

He tugged on Mrs. White's pant leg which pulled her to her senses. Her expression mollified as it lowered towards him, and reading his face, her shaky hands unlocked the bolts.

When the last one slid open he ripped the door open and entered the familiar area.

His eyes didn't gaze around as he already knew every inch of his room.

The shelf above him shuddered as his hand slapped around, quieting when it landed on some fabric. He delved his hand into the clothes and felt for his toy.

When it was in his grasp he pulled it down towards himself. Clutched to his chest he turned around to the door and readied to exit.

He spun to find penitence exuding from Mrs. White. Her caring face was shocked and shriveled at the condition of Harry's room.

"We can go now." Harry's small voice whispered to the two adults.

The two adults agreed with him, Mrs. White pulled on his arm and didn't let up until they were at the car and the man shut every door behind them.

They drove in silence. Mrs. White stared ahead at the road in front of her and Harry snuggled closer to his precious object.

Harry thought they were at the house when the car started slowing, but looking out the window, the dim glow of a coffee shop sign told him otherwise.

It was a large franchise, popular amongst everyone, and Harry often sat in the car while the Dursley's drank coffee and hot chocolate.

They pulled into the drive through and the window rolled down letting in the cold air of the night.

"Harry what would you like?"

The image of Dudley slurping the hot brown liquid invaded his mind. He desired one for himself, but he wouldn't voice it, for fear of it being a joke.

"Harry?"

"I'm fine." Was his short reply even though he wanted something.

Mrs. White seemed to read his mind and ordered him a hot chocolate.

She paid at the first window, and at the second she received their drinks.

Harry couldn't figure why she would order a coffee at this time of the night when he could feel his eyes already drooping.

He tucked the stuffed animal under his elbow and held the warm cup in both hands. He was content to sit there and let it warm his hands until it was cool enough to drink.

It wasn't till they were nearing the house that he took a hesitant slurp.

The liquid filled him with happiness and warmed him from his heads to his toes. It was most likely the best thing he had ever tasted.

He was so absorbed in the feeling of his warmth, Mrs. White opening his door and allowing the frigid air to seep into his bones startled him and he almost dropped the drink.

She unbuckled his seat belt and the two of them walked up into the house.

"Bed time Harry, how do you feel about sleeping on the couch? We shouldn't wake up the other boys trying to get you settled." She whispered to him.

Harry found himself nodding, too tired to do anything else.

The two stopped at a closet where Mrs. White grabbed a pillow and blanket, presumably for him.

She fluffed the pillow in her hands as they bumbled down the hall. She flipped the switch for the lights and they seemed to dig into Harry's eyes that were half closed.

He climbed onto the couch and set his head down on the pillow. He curled his body around his toy and snuggled beneath the cozy blanket which Mrs. White threw on him.

"Goodnight Harry." She said as she kissed his forehead.

"Goodnight." He sighed.

The lights flicked off and Harry guessed she had left.

"Goodnight -" he whispered once more before falling asleep and slipping into the unknown.

xXx

Smoke billowed through the room like a whirlwind of memories. The room was dark from both the night and the wisps curling around him.

He could hear screaming all around him. They were jumbles of words which he couldn't seem to make out. They echoed all around him, giving him shivers.

Harry spun in a circle, gazing all around himself and peering into the darkness. He intended to try to make out anything around him, but he was blinded.

"Harry." He thought he heard.

Simply a whisper in the smoke, "Harry."

It seemed to come from all around him at once. Both behind him and in front of him.

He frantically spun in circles, looking for it, but only managing to disorientate himself.

"Harry Potter." He heard from the left.

Harry's head turned to the direction he heard his name and wished he hadn't.

A shape had materialized out of the smoke, in a dark condensed snake. It avidly slithered towards him, and as it neared, it reared up. The mouth opened revealing rows of sharpened teeth ready to bite.

The snake head came down on him and he braced himself for the impact of the vicious bite.

But nothing came.

Opening his eyes, he saw only smoke dispersing from himself. The snake had returned to its original form of smoke.

Harry batted the smoke from his clothes, wanting to be rid of all pieces of the serpent.

"I killed your parents Harry."

Harry paused in his ministrations, confused. His parents were killed in a car crash, no one killed them.

He couldn't give it more thought as the listless voice resounded around him once more.

"Now I'm going to kill you Harry."

The whisper seemed to echo around the room, each time getting louder and frightening Harry more. His small hands shot up to his ears, pressing hard against his head trying to mute out the sound.

As the sound grew in loudness it penetrated his ears and made them ring. It reached the point where Harry considered screaming.

At its most unbearable height, a green glow started to erupt. It lightened the room and was unveiled through the smoke. It felt like dark and powerful.

When both the sound and green light played through their most heightened state, everything seemed to end.

Both suddenly disappeared, leaving Harry standing in smoke.

xXx

Waking suddenly from his slumber, Harry bolted upright and regretted it.

He started coughing and retching.

The air stank and made it hard for him to breath.

Slowing his cough Harry took a look around him and wished he hadn't.

All around him, smoke clouded the air and obscured his vision. The sound of cackling could be heard in some directions along with the faint glow of red.

Harry realized that he had left one nightmare, only to enter another.

The dream seemed to follow him to reality where he was stuck in a fire.

"Hello? Is anybody there?" Harry called out to the unknown.

He thought he heard floorboards creaking behind him and he rushed in that direction.

He found a shut door in front of him and he opened it, nearly ripping it off its hinges.

He disapproved of his thoughtless decisions upon its opening when thicker, darker smoke slid through the doorway. It flooded the room and Harry was forced to squint.

Too much smoke was filling Harry's lungs and he fell to the floor in a coughing fit. Upon recovering, he recalled from school learning about fires and staying low.

With his hands plastered on the ground he could easily feel the heat seeping through the wood. His left hand, the one closer to the door he just opened felt hotter than his right.

So Harry turned from the door and headed in the opposite direction.

He decided that the smoke was getting thinner and it was becoming easier to breath. Either he was moving away from the fire or there was another door closed and protecting him from the brunt of it.

He reached another door at the other of the room and expertly reached up for the knob. He was dissatisfied when he winced and pulled him hand back to him, crying out in pain of the hot doorknob. But Harry had acknowledged his mistake too late, and had already turned the knob when he was burnt.

Darkness filled his vision and he felt worse than he had when he had opened the first door.

It seemed every exit would only fill the room with more smoke, thus letting him decide his fate of dying quickly or slowly inhaling the painful gas for a prolonged suffocation.

He opted for the former, choosing painlessness over torture.

Accepting his fate he threw the door open the rest of the way and marveled in the way the smoke flooded out. It was like a tidal wave of darkness, enveloping him and his soul.

He was breathing in darkness and fought against coughing it out.

It was so painful and it burned his lungs.

Harry cried out, but instead of feeling pain on his next inhale, he felt nothing.

Am I dead? He thought. Is this what being dead feels like?

His eyes hesitantly opened and he took note of the darkness all around him.

Maybe the shadows would carry him down to hell. Or perhaps latch onto him like rope and tangle him forever in purgatory.

Harry grabbed at his arms and brushed at them hoping to dispel anything that may bind to him.

He rose to his feet and gazed around him.

It appeared darker at eye level then at kneeling level.

But rather strangely, Harry could see the faint trace of light pulsing through the fog. In a trance he trailed it while having no problem breathing.

He bumped into something soft, and nearly collapsed on top of it. Patting along it, he made his way around it and continued towards the light.

Could this be the route to heaven?

The light was growing and at some points Harry could swear he saw red.

Maybe I'm making my way to hell.

When Harry got closer he thought he could feel walls closing in on him, pressing on him from the front.

Instead of a door to hell, Harry found an open rectangle, which when he stepped into, white light blinded him. His eyes closed and his hands shot up. It felt more like to heaven to him, with white light and clean air.

"I've got the boy!" Called a voice which was rapidly approaching him.

In front of him, everything was hectic. People seemed to be in a craze pushing behind a yellow taped unraveled across the driveway. Red trucks lined the curb in front of his houses and men in heavy jumpsuits were running around, some of them even carrying a wide tube which sprayed water.

Firefighters Harry thought.

He was grabbed around the waist and pulled into a jumpsuit covered man's arms. He rushed Harry to a nearby truck where a stretcher was waiting.

Harry was gently tossed on top, and from his place he could see the house.

It was entombed in red flames licking up the sides of the house. Heavy pillars of smoke escaped through the open windows and slowly covered the sky. The house was like a fiery monster consuming itself.

Harry couldn't comprehend how he could awake from his slumber to a blazing fire. Why didn't he wake up earlier, before it had become untamable?

The paramedics around him talked quietly, whispering undoubtedly about him.

He caught snatches of what they were saying; "His lungs are clear," "No trace of smoke," "He couldn't have been in the house at all."

But since he appeared from within the house, they were required to get him checked out at the hospital.

Which is how he ended up strapped to a stretcher in the back of an ambulance racing through traffic.

The paramedics spoke to one another above him, discussing the inexplicable condition of the boy.

Knowing they were talking about him, Harry tuned them out.

His mind was in a daze, wondering how the fire had caught. How had it spread without waking him? Where was everyone else? Why didn't anyone wake him? Was there a connection between his dream and the fire?

Who did that voice belong to?

Harry was convinced he had heard it before, somewhere in a distant memory.