Within a Month

Chapter One
Sleepless

He woke with a start, drenched in cold sweat. Fear was quickly seeping into him and rushing through his veins. Sitting up on his bed, he nervously scanned his surroundings. He was still in the same dingy room he's had for the past seven years. nothing had changed. His bed was still in the same place, his study table was still there, his closet was still in front of him and his sock drawer was still intact. So, what could've woken him up in the middle of the night, all afraid and unnerved?

Yes, now he remembered. He once again had a dream about the Dark Lord and his followers, plotting destruction. No, not again, he thought dejectedly. He's had it with trying to prevent that creature from destroying everything. All he wanted was peace and normalcy. Was that too much to ask for?

He glanced over at the digital clock that was rested on his side table. The red numbers flashed out 12:00. He sighed. It was the first hour of July 31, 1998; meaning that it was his eighteenth birthday already. It really didn't matter though, no one in the wretched household would even remember the importance of the day, so it was nothing to get excited about.

Slowly lying back down, he recounted the events in his dream. Lord Voldemort was sitting on a tall, scarlet armchair with an evil gleam in his snake-like eyes. It seemed that he had just come up with a brilliant plan and he was sharing it with his followers, the Death Eaters. What was odd this time was that, unlike his other dreams, he couldn't hear anyone's voice. All that he was capable of doing was watch as each scene unfolded. No sound could be heard. Nothing to warn him what the plan was all about. The last thing he could recall from the dream was the Dark Lord motioning a platinum blond haired man toward him.

He closed his eyes and tried to go back to sleep, but he had no luck. His subconscious obviously didn't want him to go back to sleep. In a way, that was a relief; at least more dreams about the Dark Lord could be avoided. Still, that didn't stop him from groaning in frustration. He had just remembered that he knew Occlumency--a technique that could shield his mind from Lord Voldemort and from having dreams like the one he just had. He had begun learning Occlumency halfway through his fifth year, managed to master it during Christmas holidays in his sixth year and became really great at it by the beginning of his seventh year. Why hadn't he thought of practicing it before he went to sleep that night?

Knowing that he wouldn't be able to go back to sleep anytime soon, he sat up and looked at his trunks. They used to be the trunks he used to go to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for the past seven years. Though, he wasn't going back to that school for the upcoming year, the trunks still contained all his education belongings. Books, items for brewing potions, his school robes and two items that weren't part of the supply list for school: his father's invisibility cloak and the Marauder's Map. His broomstick stood at the foot of his bed.

He looked at his trunks again. By daybreak, he decided, he would be out in London, both muggle London and wizard London, searching for a place to live. He would like nothing more than to move out of Number 4 Privet Drive and live on his own--plus, he'd fancy being away from the horrible Dursleys.

Turning his attention away from his trunks and focusing it on the moon, he saw that there was a glowing red shadow encircling it. He couldn't put his finger on it, but to him, the moon just had an evil aura to it that evening. It was somewhat of a warning that something terrible was going to happen. Of course he never knew that it could be a warning, for he never really paid that much attention during his Divination classes.

Still, the moon seemed so different tonight that he was so captivated by it. Over and over again, he commanded himself to look elsewhere, but no matter how many times he told himself, he couldn't will his eyes to move away. As each minute ticked by, he felt himself becoming more and more curious about the moon. Then, just as he was about to finally turn his head, a pale face with shiny blond hair flashed on the surface of the moon. It was the face of a boy that had taunted him during his years at Hogwarts. How he hated that face...but why would he see it while staring at the moon? What did that mean?

As he tried to interpret what the significance of the face on the moon was, he heard the sound of a faint pop at one corner of his room. He abruptly stood up to inspect it.

'Who's there?' he whispered nervously.

No reply.

He asked again, a bit more loudly this time, 'Who's there?'

Still, he received no reply.

Frustrated, he sighed, 'Look, I know you're there. I can feel someone's in here with me, so it's no used hiding.'

Suddenly, a tall figure emerged from out of the shadows; bright blond hair shone in the moonlight--but the face was still hidden.

'Who're you?'

The figure spoke, 'Hello, Harry Potter, I've come to collect you.'

'What...'

He knew that voice. He knew that hair. Though, before he could call out a name, he felt something hit the back of his head and pain shoot through his skull. He was falling. The ground was quickly welcoming him, but before he could hit it, strong arms caught him. That was the moment that darkness chose to consume him.