Harry Potter was not in a good mood.

His Godfather had just died, right in front of his eyes, and he could do nothing about it. Sirius...A tear dripped down his cheek, and quickly wiped it away, intent on not letting his friends see his grief. Right now, he was in the Burrow, in Ron's room with his two friends by his side, arguing, as usual. He couldn't believe that everything was so normal, right after the only thing he had as a father had died, pushed through the veil.

He sighed, becoming frustrated with their arguments on whether the moon was white or silver." Would you two SHUT UP!"He finally shouted.

His friends looked shocked, he never yelled at them before. Ron and Hermione exchanged meaningful glances. "Harry, is this about Si- your godfather?" She said gently, making sure not to say his name.

He growled, frustrated that they thought he was some sort of an emotional reck. A small part of his brain said, You ARE an emotional reck. But he ignored it, intent on lecturing his friends." Just because Sirius died, doesn't mean that I'm some sort of emotional girl that can't stop crying. I know that crying won't make him come

back to me." He tried to be strong and manly, but he wilted a little, letting out a tiny sniffle that only Hermione could hear. Hermione looked at him sympathetically. "Harry, why don't we go to sleep? It might make you feel better..." He nodded, and pulled his Chudley Cannons blanket that had borrow from Ron over his head, lying down on the comfy sofa. The moment his head hit the soft pillow, he was asleep.

In his dream, he was floating in the middle of space, tiny prinpicks of stars all around him. A dark shape that resembled a human appeared in front of him. Young Harry Potter... why so troubled? I can help you, if you want. I can see that you are grieving, but this is no reason to not enjoy life! Tell you what, I'll teach you a lesson, or other people will do it for can have some time to yourself, you can race- O, just find out yourself, why don't you? Harry didn't know how he knew, just that he was smiling.

The background faded, and he was suddenly in the middle of a road. He tried getting up, but he suddenly realized he was a car. HE WAS A CAR! The only thing he could come up with was, I always wanted to try to drive. He looked at himself in the mirror, and was satisfied with what he saw. He was the mixture between a race-car, one like Lightning MacQueen, from the movie Cars, and a black ferrari. he was sleek and smooth, no bumps whatsoever, except for a deep scrape on his hood that was in the shape of a lightning, and he was all black, except for a weird green lightning on both sides of him and green eyes. He looked really cool, that's all he could say.

Suddenly he saw a light on the end of the road, and he speeded toward it. He was really fast, and exhilarating too. He got there in less than forty seconds. He saw the sign, and he gulped, remembering the movie he had watched when he was six. Radioator Springs.

He had gone into a movie