[i]Swirling flames surrounding all of us. It is hot. Oh so very hot. I can feel the waves of heat rushing against my skin like a brisk wind, threatening to melt the very fabric of our creation. I scream, looking towards my mother. [b]“What is happening?!”[/b] I shriek. She gazes at me, eyes wide. I hear my father yelling for us to get out. To flee. I turn towards him, and aim my wand at the wall of fire behind him.
     [b]“Aguamentai”[/b] I shriek, and a jet of crystal blue water flies forward from my wand, striking the fire. But it simply evaporates upon impact, with no effect whatsoever. Both my parents turn their wands to the fire as well, but again, no effect even with their combined magic. My brother, my two sisters, my parents, myself--all trying to keep the flames at bay. But nothing works. It is a hopeless situation. I turn to my family, tears staining my cheeks before evaporating from the sheer heat. And then my eyes widen.
     Is that what I think it is? A fiery skull with a serpent slithering from the open mouth, eye holes appearing to glare out at us before vanishing in a searing, seething wall of monstrous flames. 

All goes red. I feel the heat melting flesh from bone, I hear my mother’s agonizing screams of pain, my sisters shrieking as if they were in the fires of Hell itself, my father crying out. Then white. Just white. When I open my eyes, there is nothing but ash surrounding me. Only ash and nothing more. I collapse to my kneese, picking up a fistfull of the white ash, and flinging it angrily to the ground, breaking down into sobs.

[b]“Now now, little one. You have a much larger role to play in the Wizarding world”[/b] I hear a voice echo around me. I slowly lift my head, but see nobody. Just hear the sinister voice. [b]“There is much to be done. You are the vessel to usher in a new age, a world where this needn’t happen to anyone else ever again, Alex. You just need to embrace it!”[/b] 

Then, in front of me, I see an eerie green skull, a serpent’s head slithering out of the mouth, tail tucked between the eye sockets. It lets out a shriek, sending a wave of pure energy at me, and I feel my body disintegrate, a pain so intense that I scream so hard I rupture my vocal chords.[/i] 

~     ~     ~     ~     ~     ~

I leap out of bed, beads of sweat pouring down my face. The dream….so frequent. Several times a week. And yet that is *not* how things happened. Not exactly. I close my eyes trying to stop my trembling, my tears still running down my cheeks. I’m breathing hard, gasping for breath, trying to put myself together once more. 

I look around the room, realizing I am the only one still here. Most everyone woke up at least an hour before. [i]I bet they had better dreams too[/i], I think to myself. It still haunts me, the questions. Another way my dream was inaccurate: my father knew nothing of magic. It was just a dream anyway, of course it wouldn’t be entirely correct. Still….

Shaking my head, I throw on a pair of thick winter robes, yank my wand from beneath my pillow and putting it up my sleeve, then heading downstairs. Hogsmeade. Maybe a butterbeer or two would help soothe my nerves. Lord knew sitting around in Ravenclaw tower sure as hell wouldn’t. 

I consider bypassing one of my favorite shops, a little hole in the wall store that contained, among other things, quills.As well as magic books of great interest to me. I look towards the Three Broomsticks, contemplating. I would have chosen the Three Broomsticks but movement caught my eye in the window. There she was, Bridget, gazing at a shelf of books. Interested in what someone like her would actually be reading, imagining an interest in magic tomes like myself, I decide to open the door, and wander inside. 

[b]“Oi, hello there. Why am I not surprised to see you in a place like this?”[/b] I ask, trying to sound as cheerful and upbeat as I usually do--and somehow knowing I’m failing miserably. The shaking of my hands probably doesn’t help. Or the paleness of my skin. Or the slightly rapid breathing. Okay, so I can’t really hide something quite as disturbing as that dream, but I can always hope she is too distracted to notice. Right?