"Change is the essence of life. Be willing to surrender what you are for what you could become"
~unknown

Harry awoke to the sun beaming in through the thin curtains. Pulling himself out of bed he stumbled and clutched his dresser to steady himself. Letting go he looked at the wood and saw tiny grooves where his fingers had just been. Brushing it off, the dresser was getting old he told himself, he opened it and pulled out a pair of worn black jeans and faded green t-shirt. It was absolutely sweltering and so he needn't bother with a jumper. Opening on of the drawers he fished around for a pair of socks and pulled them on. Running his fingers through his hair he sighed slightly at the day ahead before wandering downstairs.

Entering the kitchen he saw the man-whale that was his Uncle sitting at the kitchen table spooning bacon into his mouth whilst trying to read the paper. Dudley aka man-whale junior was currently doing what he does best, putting Harry off his breakfast. Honestly you could train a blind, deaf and dumb monkey to have better manners! Aunt Petunia had her head out the window listening to the latest spat Number Three and his wife were having.

Harry's entrance virtually went unnoticed and as he scooped a little bit of bacon on his plate Vernon suddenly let out a loud yell.

"See! I knew it, get what's coming to him he did!"

"What is it darling?" asked Petunia shutting the window, apparently this fight was a short one, at times it was not unheard of to see Petunia hanging out the window for over thirty minutes.

"That American, whats his name," Vernon looked back at the paper, "Alfred Myers who shot dead that couple in London is being sent back to America, they think he might face the death penalty. Pity they couldn't do it over here, I mean the jails are full as it is. Worse decision they ever made abolishing…

Harry let Vernon drone on and on about how the death penalty would remove the dregs of society and mean that they would have to devote less taxes to keeping them alive. All the while the Boy-Who-Lived was stabbing at his bacon, there was something off about it. Every time he took a bit it would taste like ash in his mouth. Shaking his head he gave up on eating and pushed his plate away from him. Unfortunately this attracted the attention of the rooms other occupants.

"What your finished already! You've barely eaten any of it! I work hard five days a week to get food on our table which we give you out of the goodness of our hearts and you only take a few bites!" bellowed Vernon, spittle forming a clear and viscous line down his chin.

"I feel sick" murmered Harry, bile rising in his throat. Trying to swallow it down it came back with a vengeance and, standing up he bolted from the table. Running up the stairs he barely made it to the bathroom before he emptied the contents of his stomach into the hand basin. Running the tap he washed away the putrid mess. Once it was gone he put the plug in the drain and filled the basin up with cool water. Taking his glasses of he submerged his face and watched as a few bubbles of air escaped from his closed lips. It was strange, he could see under the water as well as above even without his glasses.

The need for air was becoming apparent and pulling his face out of the liquid he watched in the mirror as water droplets ran down his face before dripping off his chin and back into the water.

Grabbing a towel of the railing behind the door he dried his face and looked at his reflection again. His face seemed paler, his eyes almost glowing in comparison to the pallid skin.

"A few weeks before this you will exhibit the first few changes as your magic is slowly released from its binds."

Harry gulped as he remembered the dream and as he opened his mouth he almost expected to see the elongated canines that his dream self had possessed. Upon seeing that they were still stubby he breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe he was just imagining it.

"Boy!" came the harsh voice of his Uncle from downstairs.

Groaning slightly he unlocked the door and slowly went downstairs. Going back into the kitchen he saw that none of them had moved from their previous positions. Harry however was not upset by this, he was used to his relatives not caring about him in the slightest. Sitting back down Harry noticed with relief that his plate had been taken away, the smell was one of the factors that had sent him over the edge.

"Because of your lack of respect and gratitude you are to weed the front garden and mow the lawn. After that you will sprinkle the flowers with water before washing all the windows. You will be permitted a small meal for lunch before you tidy up the back garden and clean the house. If this is not done by night time then there will be grave consequences. Is that understood?" said Vernon calmly still reading the paper.

"Yes Uncle Vernon" replied Harry, standing up and heading out back to the shed to get the supplies. It would be a miracle if he managed to do that all those chores in one day.

By lunch time Harry was nearly finished the front garden and so strolled into the house to get his meal. Sitting on the table was a small piece of French bread and a hunk of cheese. Deciding to take it outside he sat under the apple tree in the front garden, safely hidden from the glare of the sun. The day truly was scorching and Harry had felt so tired as the sun's rays had beaten down on his back. He never understood why he was so tired, he had had worse nights and had still been able to work faster than this. His lunch finished he left the plate under the tree and went to drag the hose round from the back. Seeing the water gush out of the pipe and splatter on the dehydrated flowers, he felt envious of how cool they would be feeling compared to him. Looking around to make sure there was no prying eyes he held his head under the stream, gasping as the cool water drenched his raven hair. Withdrawing from the water he shook his head, in a manner not unlike Sirius when he was in his animagus form, to dry it somewhat before turning off the hose and taking it round back.

Surveying the back garden he sighed in relief. There really wasn't much to do except maybe prune the rose bushes, he had mowed the lawn yesterday and watered the plants.

Cutting off all the dead vegetation and those that looked infected Harry, even in his weakened state, was finished quickly. Shuffling back inside he stood for a moment in the cool kitchen, Petunia was having an afternoon nap whilst Vernon worked and Dudley went out with his gang. It was times like this that Harry relished, it felt almost like he had the house to himself and could therefore do what he wanted. Uncle Vernon's threat however resounded in his head at this thought which quickly made him less complacent.

Pulling the vacuum cleaner out of the closet in the hall, he plugged it into the socket and turned it on. The loud sound booming out of it hurt his ears and he clutched his head in silent agony. Fighting through the pain he performed his task quickly and half heartedly. That done he straightened up the couch cushions before putting the vacuum cleaner away. Moving into the kitchen he filled up a bucket with water and added a little bleach. Taking the mop out of the corner he began washing the linoleum floor. Making wide arcs with mop the acrid smell of the bleach was registered by his senses. Wrinkling his nose he finished up and cleaned the kitchen counters.

When every surface was sparkling he flopped onto the couch and lay there for a minute just listening to the sound of his own breathing. He wasn't as tired as he was earlier but still the fatigue was there. Rubbing his eyes roughly with his calloused hands he sighed.

What was wrong with him?

"These changes will eventually drive you to come to me so to put it quite simply you will come no matter what"

His dream came back in vivid detail. He could almost see Tom's eyes scrutinising him, hear his voice taunting him with the residual memories.

'No' he mentally screamed, 'this cannot be happening, he is lying he has to be!'

'But what if he isn't, I could die' came a small voice at the back of his mind.

'I'd rather be dead than side with him, he killed my parents' snarled the more dominant voice.

'No he never, you have to admit his explanation did make a twisted sort of sense'

The more dominant voice was silent at that. No matter how hard he tried he couldn't get around the fact that Tom's explanation did make sense. It explained why he was mediocre at the most basic magics when Hermione could cast 'wingardium leviosa' the first time. It explained how even though Voldemort had many chances to kill him he never did. And as much as he hated to admit it, it explained how out of sorts he had been today.

Groaning he closed his eyes and covered his face in his hands. This couldn't be happening! He was so caught up in his despair that he never heard the front door open.

"Boy what are you doing lazing around! The cheek of it, we ask you to do one thing and you don't even do that! Upstairs now, you'll get no dinner tonight for your insolence!" Vernon's face had turned purple and a vein was throbbing on his temple. Feeling it wise to get out of the danger zone Harry stood up and went up to his room.

Closing the door he leaned against it for a moment. He was quite happy he was missing dinner, if his body reacted to it as badly as the bacon then it would have been the belt for sure. Vernon never really hurt him now, unless he was really angry or Harry had repeatedly done something that he deemed wrong.

Throwing himself on his bed he heard the ancient springs creak as his body made contact. Curling up he felt the fatigue come back with a vengeance and slowly surrendered to the oblivion of sleep.

"Ah Harry your back, I never thought it would be this soon" came Tom's voice out of the blackness. Slowly the room began to materialise around him and it was only when it was fully there he realised it was the same one as before. Licking his lips he noticed that his fangs were back and that he once again was pale and had shoulder length hair. Moving forward he sat in the armchair offered and leaned back.

"What is wrong with you?" asked Tom suddenly, his face flooding with concern.

"Nothing, I'm fine" replied Harry automatically.

"Don't lie to me you stupid childe, what happened today? Have you began to get symptoms?" snapped Tom urgently.

"Er well I made a dent in my wardrobe by clutching it this morning, I've been tired all day, loud noises hurt my ears…" listed Harry, struggling to remember.

"Its too quick, your magic is more powerful than I had anticipated" said Tom, his face never once breaking the composed mask but his voice conveying the urgency.

"What's going on?" asked Harry, confused by the elder man's ramblings.

"I need to come and get you tonight, pack what you can and be quick about it. I should arrive around midnight and I'll meet you in your room."

"Wait how can you get in my room? I thought the wards prevented that" said Harry.

"I have your blood in my veins and so it automatically allows me access. I have to get going, I'll see you soon" replied Tom quickly before Harry's vision faded to black.

Opening his eyes Harry looked blearily at the clock. The bright numbers shone back at him through the darkness telling him that he had an hour to get ready. This dream thing was confusing, it was strange that the dream only seemed to last a few minutes and yet in reality he had been sleeping for hours. Shaking his head Harry dispelled these thoughts before pulling a his trunk out from underneath his bed. It was a good thing the Dursley's were afraid that Sirius would kill them they mistreated his godson. It was a funny to think that his family still protected him from beyond the grave.

Opening his wardrobe he pulled out his clothes and threw them haphazardly into his trunk. That done he dug out his wand and various other nick-naks from under the loose floorboard. Going back to his trunk he folded the clothes and put them on top of his school books and equipment. Looking at the clock he saw that that had killed thirty minutes. It was strange, before he had been arguing to himself that this could be a trap and that it was all a lie. Now however he was getting ready to meet his potential murderer. Although Tom was right, he was changing and well Tom seemed to know what was happening and actually told him instead of Dumbledore who kept his secrets so close to his chest it was a surprise that he could breathe. He was still unsure about this but something told him that this was the right choice and well it was a little late to have second thoughts as the man was already coming for him.

Lying back on his bed he sighed. Why was his life always so complicated, why did everything happen to him! It seemed that every since he was born Fate had been playing with him and dictating his actions, he supposed that this was just the next level and the protective gloves were off. Hearing a sharp rap at his window he started before scrambling to his feet.

For better or for worse he couldn't back out now. Tom had arrived.

A/N: Thank you for the feedback!

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter.

I apologise for any spelling and/or grammar mistakes that were present in this chapter.

This is the last of the pre-written chapters and I really need you to review so I can know if its worth writing more.