Lost

Chapter 1: The letter and the photo

He was somewhere above the Great Hall, looking down at the two people below who didn't seem to notice that he was there. Maybe he was invisible. If he could fly, he could surely make himself invisible.

He thought a bit longer and realized that he was dreaming all about what happened down there, where a small boy stood in front of a tall person. The small boy was dressed in black and had a black mask on. The dreamer knew this was the sort of clothes Death Eaters wore. Why would a boy in Hogwarts wear the clothes of a Death Eater?

The dreamer looked at the tall person, and saw that he wore the same clothes as the boy. So there was another Death Eater in Hogwarts. Should he warn someone? The dreamer wanted to call for somebody, but he decided against it. He wanted to see what would happen.

"Are you ready to become one of us?" asked the tall person with a high-pitched, ice-cold voice. It looked like the small boy raised his head, but the dreamer couldn't see it very well. And then the boy spoke, with a clear voice.

"Why? What will you do to me if I refuse?"

"You still feel safe, but you aren't. I follow you everywhere, I kill and torture around you, until it isn't safe for you to love anyone anymore. Your seventeenth year will be one of terror. You'll be uncertain. You'll fear. Fear for the Power of the Crows, who will follow you around with their messages. Be warned, Harry Potter. You can't escape."

Now the boy stripped his arm and the tall person took his naked arm. The person pressed his fingers against the boy's arm and suddenly the dreamer was the boy, and he felt pain when a mark was burnt in his arm. He was Harry Potter, the boy who lived, the dreamer... the Death Eater.

***

Harry Potter woke with a shock, and his first reflex was to grab his arm. The arm that hurt, that arm would have an everlasting mark on it. A mark that made him something terrible, something he didn't want to be, but he couldn't escape any more...

"But my arm doesn't hurt!" said Harry aloud, to lose the thoughts of the dream. He wasn't the dreamer, he wasn't that twelve-year-old Harry Potter any more, and he certainly wasn't a Death Eater. So his arm didn't hurt, it couldn't be hurting, not from a dream. His scar didn't even hurt.

He turned around so he could see his room by the early sunlight that came inthrough the open window. It was a beautiful room, with his books in a bookcase, a table with rolls of parchment, his Firebolt VP2 in a corner, a photo of himself with Ron and Hermione, a photo of Cho (though he should really throw that one away: she had dumped him a few weeks ago and he didn't want to think about her any more.) A very normal room for a young wizard who would start his seventh Hogwarts year the day after tomorrow... no, tomorrow already!

Finally he had a normal room... the previous year he, Dumbledore, Lupin and a lot of others had worked hard to convict Wormtail. They chased after him. Wormtail was caught and sent to Azkaban for the rest of his life. Finally, Harry could go and live with Sirius, who had had his name cleared and now had a good job at the Ministry. The day he had heard he could leave the Dursleys was one of the best of his life. It was nice to live with Sirius. They were friends,in a way, although sometimes Sirius seemed to forget Harry was old enough to take care of himself.

Suddenly, Harry noticed that something was missing. Where was Hedwig? She hunted every night, but usually early and when he woke up in the morning, she was always there. Now, however, she was nowhere to be found, making him wonder where she could be. He hadn't sent a letter yesterday evening, and she hardly ever brought him letters from other people.

A bit worried, he called, "Hedwig!" through the cold morning air. Nothing.

"Hedwig?! Are you somewhere around here? Come back!" Nothing.

Well, she would come back if she wanted to. He didn't want to keep her caged, as he had to do when he still lived with the Dursleys, so he didn't worry too much.

***

"Harry? Are you awake?" called Sirius from the kitchen.

"Yeaaah," yawned Harry. He looked at his clock and saw that it was ten o'clock am. Apparently he had fallen asleep again, and he still was a bit tired but that wasn't very important. It was time to get up because he, Ron and Hermione would go to Diagon Alley today. They already had their school things, but they wanted to do something fun the last day before they went back to Hogwarts.

"Come and have breakfast, you lazy thing!"

"Coming..." Harry called back, and slowly he got up, took a shower and dressed himself. He tried to fix his hair, but as he had expected, it went wrong. Well, it didn't matter, everybody knew him like this... he amused himself with thinking about how people would react if he suddenly had perfect hair, because that never happened. Even when the Dursleys cut his hair, it always grew back in one night. He liked his hair.

When he came downstairs, Sirius really had made a breakfast. And not just the usual bread or something... no, there were eggs, toast, croissants... he didn't even know Sirius could cook this well.

"Why such a good breakfast, Sirius?" he asked grinning, and Sirius grinned too.

"Arabella Figg made it. She told me she wanted you to have at least one good breakfast before you leave. Maybe she's afraid that you won't come next year."

Harry smiled when he thought about Arabella Figg. She was the daughter of Mrs. Figg, the woman with the cats and who the Dursleys always left him with when they wanted to do something fun. He would never have guessed that she had a daughter who was a witch, and he certainly couldn't have guessed that Arabella (or Ara for short) was an Auror.

Ara lived near them, and Harry supposed that she and Sirius liked eachother more than they wanted to admit... especially because Sirius never knew how to react to Harry's teasing.

"Oh, and who has brought it here? She herself came here to bring this, early in the morning?" asked Harry teasing. It was amusing to see how his godfather blushed furiously, making him look like another teenage boy, and not like a nearly-forty-year-old man, but he was surprised when Sirius didn't say anything. Usually Sirius had a remark or something, but now... just silence. That could mean that... but he didn't want to know.

Relieved, Sirius changed the subject:

"When will Ron and Hermione be at the Leaky Cauldron?"

"Around noon, and..." Harry started to answer, but he was interrupted by Hedwig, who suddenly flew through the window and started to fly circles above the table. She looked terrible, it looked like she had lost half her feathers. The one's she had had blood on them.

Harry jumped up and tried to catch her, because he wanted to take care of her. What had happened? Had she fought with another owl? But she obviously didn't want to be caught, and she kept flying circles, which made Harry a bit dizzy.

"Is this normal?" asked Sirius, when Harry climbed on a chair and nearly caught her.

"No, of course not," said Harry, gasping, when he had finally caught her. Now that he had her, she was a lot calmer and she didn't try to fly away. She allowed him to check her for serious injuries and she nipped his finger

Harry looked at the table, looking for a piece of bread for Hedwig. Suddenly, he saw that Hedwig had thrown a letter on the table, a letter in a black envelope with a seal he didn't recognize... or did he?

Harry took the letter and looked closely at the seal, he recognized it. The letter's seal had the Dark Mark on it. At once he felt a stab in his arm, and he remembered something from the dream he had had that night, the dream he had forgotten... suddenly he saw the tall person pressing his fingers against the arm of the small boy... and he felt it hurting again. It hurt so much!

"Harry?" called a voice far away. Who was it? The tall person? No. Sirius.

"Ai!" he called as an answer. He had wanted to answer normal, to just say 'yes', but he couldn't. It hurt more than he remembered from his dream, and the pain made him stop thinking... he was there, he felt those fingers pressing against his arm... that burning hurt, the Dark Mark.

Suddenly, it was all over, and he came back in the body of the normal, seventeen-year-old, not-dreaming Harry. He saw Sirius' worried face right in front of him. Sirius had the black envelope in his hands.

"Harry?" asked Sirius softly, sounding worried. He put the letter down and took it again, turned it around, stroked the envelope including the seal, and put the letter down again.

"What... what happened? What's that?"

"This is a letter from Voldemort, and I don't dare guess what's in it. But why did you hold your upper arm? What did you feel? Do you know that..."

"... that's the place where the Dark Mark is on Death Eaters? Yes, of course I know. I suddenly remembered what I dreamt last night, about a man who pressed his fingers against the upper arm of a twelve-year-old boy... and Í was that boy, Sirius! That boy was a twelve-year-old Harry Potter, but it's just not possible that he got the Dark Mark... I certainly didn't get it when I was twelve..."

"So, a dream," muttered Sirius, "and your scar didn't hurt?"

"No," said Harry, surprised, "Not at all. It hasn't hurt for a single moment, it was just my arm. The fingers of the man burnt the Mark into my skin. Well, not my skin, dream-Harry's skin. But what's in that letter?"

"We'll have to open it, Harry, to know that for sure. I've never heard of somebody getting a letter from Voldemort, and I'm not sure if we should open it. Maybe there's a curse in it, or it's a Portkey, or..."

"The only way to know is to open it," said Harry softly. He knew he would always wonder what had been in the letter if he didn't open it now. Besides, he wasn't sure if it would be safe to nót open it. What if Voldemort really wanted him to read the letter? The letter might explode if he didn't, or Voldemort would keep sending him letters, like Hagrid had done when Harry was nearly eleven, and that would be very bad for Hedwigs health.

"We have to try," said Sirius.

He wanted to give Harry the letter, but Harry refused.

"I can't touch it, Sirius, I'll feel that pain again. Please open it." When Sirius hesitated, he added pleadingly: "Please. My arm."

Slowly Sirius opened the envelope, and turned it upside down above their breakfast. A tiny, black letter landed on Harry's toast. There was white lettering on it, but Harry couldn't read it, as it was upside down. He waited until Sirius read the letter aloud.

Sirius read it without touching it:

"You still feel safe, but you aren't. I follow you everywhere, I kill and torture around you, until it isn't safe for you to love anyone anymore. Your seventeenth year will be one of terror. You'll be uncertain. You'll fear. Fear for the Power of the Crows, who will follow you around with their messages. Be warned, Harry Potter. You can't escape."

Harry recognized it, and suddenly the whole dream came back in his memory. Not only did he know about the Dark Mark, but also about Hogwarts, and about the conversation between the boy and the tall person who had said those words. But how could words from his dream be in this letter? How could somebody know what he had dreamt? Or had somebody sent him the dream?

"Harry, do you know what this letter means?" asked Sirius worried.

Harry thought about a lot of things. He wanted to tell Sirius about hearing those words in his dream, but he was afraid that Sirius would be far too worried. And Sirius would probably not even believe him, it wás unbelievable, wasn't it? No, he should first talk with Ron and Hermione, maybe he could tell Sirius and other grown-ups later.

"No," he answered, and it was the truth. Although he now had heard this words for the second time, he didn't know what they meant. Well, it was clear that the person who had written this, wanted to say that this year would be one of terror, with murders and stuff, but what did 'Power of Crows' and messages mean? Would he get more of those letters?

"This is serious," said Sirius softly, "maybe you should stay home today."

"I don't think so," said Harry determined, "Diagon Alley is really safe, besides I'm seventeen and I can take care of myself. I refuse to crawl away. I'm just going. Come on, it's only a letter, so what?"

"But your dream..." said Sirius, but Harry interrupted him quickly:

"If it has something to do with Voldemort, I would surely have felt my scar. Well, I didn't. I don't think it has anything to do with Voldemort. If he sent me a letter, he would make sure I could read it, wouldn't he?"

He knew this wasn't as logical as it sounded, but he just had to go to Diagon Alley and meet his friends. He hoped they could help him...

"No, it's..." said Sirius determined, but Harry, who was afraid that Sirius would forbid him to go, took his wand and did something he had never done before. He used a Memory Charm, and surprisingly it worked.

"Good morning, Harry," said Sirius merrily, and he went back to the kitchen. Harry hoped that Sirius had really forgotten everything: Hedwig (who had flown to his room while he was talking with Sirius), Harry's dream, and of course the letter. The letter... he had to take the letter! If Sirius saw it, he would want to read it again and he would forbid Harry to go.

"Paroni letter and envelope!" The tiny letter went back in the envelope and the envelope closed.

"Accieni envelope!" This charm looked like a Summoning Charm, but with one difference: the envelope flew to his bag, and not to himself.

Quickly, Harry closed his bag, and when Sirius entered the room again, nothing could make him remember what had happened. They had a calm breakfast and they talked a bit, but Harry wasn't concentrating. He only thought about the letter in his bag. What would Ron and Hermione think of it?

***

"Harry! We're here!" shouted two happy voices when he stepped dizzily out of the fire-place of the Leaky Cauldron. He stood still for a moment, to get used to a not-rotating world, and then put on his glasses, so he could also séé his friends. They were on a table at the back of the pub, and relieved Harry noticed that there was nobody around them, so he could tell his story without being eaves-dropped.

"Hey Ron. Hey Hermione. How's life?" asked he, and he sat down. They both looked very nice, brown, with happy eyes and summer clothes. Harry knew he himself wasn't looking happy, and he knew that his friends would notice.

"Something wrong, Harry?" asked Hermione, and she took his hand.

He smiled at her, she was really pretty now... he hadn't noticed when he was with Cho, but she really was, and told his story, starting at the moment he first woke up, after the strange dream. He told about his hurting arm, about Hedwig, about the letter, and at last about Sirius.

His two friends had stayed silent, although at their faces he had seen how worried they were, but now Hermione exclaimed:

"You did what?! Are you crazy? He was totally right, you shouldn't have come here, it's far too dangerous for you!"

"I'm not going to hide for Voldemort anymore, and it's safe enough here. And about Sirius... I'm not sure if I should've done that, but I just had to talk to you."

"We could have gone to your house," said Hermione.

"Ehm. Yes, that... that's right," said Harry, feeling very stupid for not thinking about this earlier. Of course that would have been easier and safer, and then he could've talked with Sirius about all this... well, he couldn't change it now. He was now in Diagon Alley and he wanted to have a nice day, without thinking too much about the letter and the dream.

"Alas," said Ron. "But can you show us that letter?"

"It's in my bag," said Harry quickly, and he opened his bag. The black envelope was still in there and his bag looked the same as it had looked that morning, and without thinking about it Harry grabbed the letter and laid it on the table. Hermione looked inquisitively at him.

"It didn't hurt this time, did it, Harry?"

"Huh? Of course it... ehm, no, it actually didn't. It did hurt this morning, but I don't feel anything anymore."

"Strange," said Hermione, but before they could talk any more about it, Ron had opened the envelope. Harry thought that was also strange, usually Ron wasn't that curious, he always had been a bit scared of 'Voldemort-stuff'. But it was probably because of the fact that he had duelled against Voldemort a few months ago, and he had survived.

"Yeah, here's the letter," said Ron, and indeed he had a small black letter in his hands and he started to read it. Suddenly Harry thought he saw something at the back of the letter, something moving, something appearing...

"Can I have the letter?" he asked quickly, and Ron looked at him in a surprised way, but he gave the letter anyway. Harry looked at the backside and saw that he hadn't been wrong. Slowly a photo appeared at the back of the letter, a magic photo, with moving people, dark people.

"It's a photo!" exclaimed Harry, and at once Hermione stood up and came standing behind Harry, to see it herself.

"Erm... Harry?" He looked up and saw she had a strange expression on her face. "I don't see anything. Just black, no photo or pictureor anything."

He looked at the photo, amazed, and she was right. He saw nothing, just a black backside. Harry rubbed his eyes, looked again. It really wasn't a photo. How could he have thought it was?

"You're right... and still I was nearly sure it was a photo. Maybe I should get new glasses."

"Maybe you should," said Hermione, and she sat down again. Harry didn't look at the letter anymore, but he talked with others about the Power of Crows and what it could mean.

"Crows are the messengers of the bad news, I'm sure, but I've never heard of the Power of Crows... maybe it's something the Dark Lord thought of himself, and not something very old. To be sure of that I should go to the library, but..."

Absent-minded Harry turned the letter round and round, and suddenly he saw it again. Moving people, a magic photo... and when he gave it a good look, the people were still there. He rubbed his eyes, took his glasses off and put them on again, but the people stayed. They became clearer, he could see that it were eight people, seven dressed in black and one in white, now he could nearly see their faces... and then it became black again and they were gone.

When he looked up, he saw Hermione standing behind him again.

"I saw the photo again, I'm sure, but when you were behind me it was gone," said Harry quickly. He knew it sounded strange, too strange, unless...

"Maybe only Harry can or is allowed to see the photo," said Ron. Exactly the same thing Harry thought.

Hermione sat down once again and looked at Harry.

"Well, the only way to find out is like this... what do you see, Harry?"

Harry looked again at the black back of the letter, and again the same happened. First he could only see people, then he saw the eight again, seven in black and one in white, and then their faces became clearer... now that Harry wasn't interrupted, he could see the person dressed in white was himself. He looked scared and around him there were the people dressed in black... but was the black clothes? It looked more like feathers, black feathers. Black feathers... Crows... but then their faces became clearer, and he saw that they were seven girls, who looked coldy at the Harry in the photo. Every one of them had a knife in her hand.

"Harry? Harry, what do you see?" asked Ron worried when he saw his best friend turning pale.

"I see..." started Harry hoarse, but he didn't seem to be able to finish his sentence. Hermione, who understood that he was very scared by the photo, quickly stood behind him to look at the back of the letter. As she had expected, the back was still black, or became black, as Harry would probably see it, and Harry relaxed a bit.

"I saw eight people. Seven black Crows, with girls' faces and knives in their hands. And myself, dressed in white. The Crows were everywhere around me, and I was scared of them. I knew what they were going to do."

"What was that, Harry?"

" 'I kill and torture around you' ," he quoted with an unnatural high-pitched voice from the letter. "The Crows want to kill, and they wíll kill."

"What do you mean, Harry? What do you know about them?" asked Hermione worriedly. She looked at Harry again, and saw that he was still as pale as a sheet. He still had to be very scared, and just from a photo. What kind of photo was it, anyway? She wanted to see the photo, to see for herself what was so scary. How did Harry know those girls wanted to kill? Was it a kind of feeling the photo sent him?

"I don't know," said Harry. He shrugged and tried to think. He knew what he had seen, and it was those seven girls with black feathers, and himself. Why was he so sure that it had been the Crows? How did he know what they were going to do? And what did it mean? It became stranger by the second...

"The only thing I saw where those eight people. Seven girls with feathers, I don't know how... maybe the feathers were on their clothes, or those feathers grew just from their skin. I don't know. Like I told you they all had knives in their hands, and when I looked at those knives I just knew that they wanted to kill. I don't know why, but I'm really sure."

"Did you recognize those girls?" asked Hermione.

"I thought I recognized one of them. Well... I have seen her before but I can't remember where, or who she is. It's not a very clear photo. The only thing I'm sure of, is that she has dark hair, but there are so many girls with dark hair... Oh, and there was another one I've seen before, but she had hidden half her face behind a cape or something. I think they were all between fifteen and twenty years old, maybe a few a little older, but surely not younger than fifteen."

"That doesn't help us very much... but if you recognize somebody from the photo, you know you have to be very careful around her. And please tell us. I hope there's a way to show us that photo, maybe I can find something in a book..." she muttered. Harry smiled a bit, but he didn't know what to do now. He had seen the Crows, but would he recognize them if he saw them again? He wasn't sure... maybe he should look at the photo again, to see their faces again, but he didn't dare. He had been so scared...

"What now?" asked Ron his friends. Harry hesitated. He didn't want to go home and see Sirius again. Then he would have to explain everything, and tell Sirius about the Memory Charm, and he didn't want to see Sirius' reaction. He would be disappointed, and angry, and Harry just couldn't face that right now. Maybe he should just go to Diagon Alley, as he had originally thought. What was the difference between now and this morning eleven o'clock? Only that he knew what the Crows looked like (and that they wanted to kill somebody, but he tried to forget that), and that was good (still not thinking about the killing stuff), so why not just go?

"We will go to Diagon Alley and act like nothing has happened," decided Harry, and they stood up and left the Leaky Cauldron.