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Harry was sitting at his desk, reading the wizarding newspaper, the daily prophet. According to the prophet Snape and Malfoy were still at large and no one had a single clue as to their whereabouts. A flame erupted in Harry's heart as he read Snape's name on the front page of the paper. He had never had so much hatred bubbling up inside him for anyone, even his evil aunt and uncle, who had kept him in deprivationfor the best part of the 16 years he had lived with them. Fortunately this was his last summer at number 4 Privet Drive. He spent the rest of the evening slouching over his desk, thinking about his plans after the summer holidays. Would he return to Hogwarts, despite the fact that the only person who made Hogwarts feel like home had suffered the consequences of trying to help him by sacrificing his life? Or would he spend the rest of his life searching for horucruxes and not even protect those closest to him?


Whilst pondering over this, Harry had fallen asleep with his head, mostly his carpet of untidy, brown hair, in his ink well. He rested peacefully on the table whilst in dozing. He thought that nothing could ruin this momnet of relaxation and bliss, not even the increasing pressure of stopping Voldemort. But that was before Harry started to have a dream that could change his life forever....


Harry was walking through a deserted corridor at Hogwarts. It seemed like he was the only one at the school. He creeped slowly along the corridor. Every wooden door he passed seemed to be firmly bolted shut, as if they were never to be opened again. After passing five or so doors, Harry started to grow weary. He legs were growing weaker and weaker and his patience was wearing thin. Another door passed as quickly as it came and Harry felt like screaming with fustration. In amongst all his thoughts of anger Harry could hear a voice that seemed like it was angered in some way. At first he thought it was a trick being played by his maind but after listeing for a few minutes more, he soon discovered that the voice was real.


He tried to trace the voices but couldn't get to a conclusion. It wasn't until he had crept on a few paces that he found the source of the voice behind the seventh door, which was ajar and revealed the outline of two men. Eager to know what was happening, Harry peered through the gap in the door, paying careful attention to not letting himself get noticed. He looked around the room and recognised it to be none other than the transfiguration classroom, but still failed to recognise the two arguing men.


The one standing on the left, by the the chalkboard, was of a melancholic disposition. He was tall with jet balck hair that fell just below his hips. The glint in his green eyes was sinster and his thin lips were set in a pale bony face. He was wearing black billowing robes along with a ring on his right hand. The other man however was valliant looking. He had golden hair that fell messily around his shoulders. The pools of lights blue in his eyes was like the sky on a perfect summers day and his mouth appeared to be a lot less thinner to man with whom he was standing. He was wearing robes of a crimson colour and marvellous hat entwined with gold and red was set at a jaunty angle on his untidy locks of gold hair.

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