Shattered Glass

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Rain poured heavily upon the windows of the Hogwarts Express. Harry watched as harsh liquid pelted the glass ruthlessly. The sky was a black cloud of anger and hatred. Lightening flashed through the sky as thunder shook those of the weaker nature. Storms are conjured in nature, disrupting the peaceful and ignorant bliss of clear days. Oh how Harry loved storms. He had always thought them to be the most powerful forms of nature. They brought the perfect amount of destruction to a day. He sat in a dimly lit compartment staring out the window with a look of murderous hatred upon his face. The expression he wore seemed to become created as a façade to others. He listened to the beating of the rain, the rumbles of the thunder, and the crash of the lightening for a short while when he realized something was amiss. Quickly finding his error, he cast a spell that filled the compartment with the helpless strings of beautiful instruments. A quartet of string basses he recalled. He was within solitude, drowning himself in music and nature. A cruel laugh escaped his lips as he thought through the pervious hour. A shadow had fallen over the sky, just as one had fallen over his heart.

Harry had arrived at Platform 9 ¾ fairly early. He rushed upon the train in a vain attempt to escape the perilous clutches of Ron and Hermione. He found an empty compartment and quickly locked the door with a powerful spell he had acquired over the summer. He had escaped the Dursley's residence late one night, called the Knight Bus, and made his way through Diagon Alley to Flourish and Blotts in hopes of purchasing books containing powerful spells. He bought several thick books about various incantations and became quite knowledgeable. Hermione wouldn't be able to break through them, no matter how hard she might try. Harry settled himself into the comfortably cushioned seat and watched as dark clouds suddenly engulfed the sky. He smiled, and lit a candelabra that he transfigured. The train started moving into motion, and Harry swiftly turned his head to look though the small pane of glass the compartment door held as he heard a large knock. Ron and Hermione were standing on the other side of the door, confused looks upon their faces.

"Harry," Ron shouted so Harry could hear him through the door, " why didn't you wait for us on the platform? Did you not see us, and why is this door locked?"

Harry laughed sinisterly . "Cruentus Pullus Apices" The spell was absolutely perfect for what he had in mind Slowly, Hermione and Ron saw small trails of a crimson substance flow down the pane. Hermione dipped a finger in the liquid and brought it to her mouth.

"Blood? What the hell?" Hermione stood shocked, staring at her finger.

"Hermione," Ron inquired quietly, "look."

The glass was covered in a large intricate pattern of blood. The pair could still see Harry looking back at them trough holes in the pattern. As they saw Harry's lips starting to form a string of words, black writing made its way down the blood covered glass in a letter form.

Hermione remained his friend for more shocking reasons. He found she was waiting until the final battle between him and the Dark Lord. She would wait until Harry was dead and simply take control over the wizarding world. With Harry's death Hermione would be able to apply and be chosen for the most important job one could hold. She would tell the community that she was the prime reason the side of the light was able to have a remote possibility of winning as she was the one to do all of the research, planning, and preparation. Theatrics were high on her list as she would cry and stutter about how she was one of the closest to Harry, how she was so miserable now that he was gone, and how he wanted her to succeed in life. There was one fault in Hermione's plan and that was with the chance of Harry remaining to live.

Harry saw it all. He was used by numerous people through his years. Dumbledore was solely concerned in the well-being of Hogwarts. The school meant everything to the old bastard. Harry soon found Dumbledore wanted to bring forth a group of wizards that were under his influence after the war was over. They would rise to rebuild the wizarding world after the battle and everything would change. Change to what, Harry did not know. Harry thought about his years at Hogwarts and his sudden change of attitude, or shall he say, his sudden epiphany. It was a hot summer's night, and he was overcome with a horrendous nightmare.

~Nightmare flashback~

The room was circular and of stone. Pieces of black lace covered the floor. A wooden staff stood erect in the middle of the room, held up by an invisible force. Harry was inexplicitly confused. He hadn't the slightest clue why he was there nor what anything meant. A cold draft whipped behind his neck carrying the words 'hands over the staff' with it. Curious, Harry walked to the staff and hesitantly held his hand over the crystal in the tip of the wood. A beam of light shot through his hand and into the ceiling until he saw images of his past. Picking through each of his friends, he heard each of their confessions as to why they still were with Harry. He heard and saw everything they did and said and was shocked beyond belief. Jerking his hand from the staff, the visions stopped. He tried desperately to try and suppress sobs that were threatening to take over his body. A bolt of blue lightening came from the ceiling and struck the inside of his right wrist. Clutching the wound in great pain he gritted his teeth together before blacking out

When Harry had awoken that morn and he became disgruntled from the dream. He was compelled to look at his wrists only to find the words' The confessions were real' etched across his unmarred skin in dark letters. A tattoo, much like the Dark Mark itself. Everything he saw in the dream was real, and it was forever branded into his skin so that he would never forget the lies he had been fed. Harry remembered the day well and thanked that of whomever gave him his warning. He touched the black words absentmindedly as he continued staring out the window of the train. The sky was still covered in overbearing clouds as the rain seemed to only grow more fierce. Letting himself get carried away with the quartet of strings that filled his ears, he failed to realize Draco Malfoy standing outside of his compartment reading the note he had left on the window. He was to concerned within his own thought to notice the smirk on Malfoy's face as well as the door beginning to slide open.

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