Disclaimer: Most of the characters and the world in which they operate belong to the great mind of J. K. Rowling.
Chapter 1: The Dream
It was happening again. Albus Potter was dreaming of a desert ghost town filled with zombies. Some of the zombies were moving at normal speed, most were moving like they were walking through a pool of water. He had dreamed of this place every night for six months, ever since he had actually lived it.
This time he was following Adam Travers into the county store. He could smell the musty smell of the store, several jars still on the shelves from when the store was last open for business. It was certainly not a store that Albus would be shopping in anytime soon.
Travers beckoned him into the back room. He had no other option, so he tightened his grip on his wand and walked back.
Before he realized what had happened, he had been disarmed and magically pushed against the wall, facing a man he now knew to be Albert Blake. He also knew that Blake was about to die. Albus fought against the sleep, trying to warn the man through the dream, but it was no good: Travers turned on Blake and killed him.
Then, standing next to Blake, he began to chant softly raising and lowing his voice mystically. He stepped back as the chant reached its crescendo and pointed his wand at Blake, whispering a long incantation. Blake opened his eyes and got up. Travers handed him a wand, instructing him to blast Albus through the wall. Blake turned the wand on Albus, his face expressionless.
Suddenly the scene changed. Albus was sitting in a small hut at the back of a graveyard, opposite a small village church. Several of the graves were magnificent, but none matched the small, white, marble stone in the center of the graveyard. Albus thought that he should recognize the graveyard, but he couldn't place it.
A large tour bus pulled up to the church and parked in front of the graveyard's front gate. It was not unusual for people to park in front of the church, but there had never been a tour bus before. In any case, the bus was blocking the entrance to the graveyard; so Albus got up, grabbed his rifle just in case and walked out to tell the driver to move.
A medium-sized man in black robes stepped off the bus, followed by a tall, pale man who looked to be about 80 years old. The two walked into the graveyard.
"The graveyard is closed, you'll have to come back tomorrow," Albus said, though the voice wasn't his. The men simply continued walking, the shorter one smiling. "Gentlemen, you can't come any further. Turn back now or I'll shoot!" Albus said, raising the rifle.
The shorter man looked up at Albus, and he recognized the man as Adam Travers; the man who had haunted Albus for the last six months. He tried to run, but he had no control on his body. Suddenly, Albus remembered where he had seen that white, marble headstone before. He was seeing the world through the eyes of his muggle friend Robert Christopher Smith and that there was nothing he could do to save him.
Travers reached for his wand. Robert Smith pulled the trigger, but the gun only clicked. Travers laughed and said, "Muggles." The taller man produced a wand, turned it on Smith and said, as if it was nothing, "Avada Kedavra!"
A hundred miles away, Ginny Potter woke to her youngest son screaming, "No, you don't get THEM!" She rushed to his side as he woke up and grabbed his left arm, placing his hand right over the scar he had received last summer. Ginny moved to pull a chair next to the bed, but Albus jumped up from the bed.
"Mom, we have to go now. Get the others. Aguh," he said, crippling in pain on the last word. He regained himself and said, "He's angry now. We have to go!"
James and Lily Potter appeared at the doorway. "What's up Al?" James said, wiping the sleep from his eyes.
It was Ginny who answered, the trust she had in her son overcoming logical reason. "Get your wands. We're going, somewhere, now."