Chapter 1: Prologue

People once believed that when someone dies, a crow carries their soul to the land of the dead. But sometimes, something so bad happens that a terrible sadness is carried with it and the soul can't rest. Then sometimes, just sometimes, the crow can bring that soul back to put the wrong things right.

Harry's life had never been that great. From the beginning he was destined to a life of misery and today was no exception. As he left the Hogwarts Express after his fifth year he thought nothing about how much his life had changed since his eleventh birthday. He wasn't thinking about his friends who he would not see for a few months. He wasn't thinking about the wonders that he had witnessed or the world that had been opened to him. He only thought about how badly his life sucked. His godfather Sirius Black had been killed by his deranged cousin Bellatrix a few weeks ago. And if that wasn't enough just hours afterwards, without any warning Dumbledore told him that it was his destiny to face Voldemort. Whether he wanted to or not it didn't matter to the old man.

Not wanting to deal with what he knew would be an overbearing Molly Weasly Harry was the first one off the train and quickly made his way through the barrier to Kings Cross Station. Standing on the side of the street he looked for his uncle to take him back to his prison, he quickly realized that no one had come to pick him up. Wondering what he was going to do he came to the only conclusion. He raised his wand summoning the only form of transportation he knew would be able to get him home that night.

He watched as the bus came to a complete stop in front of him, the doors opening to reveal Stan Shunpike. Nodding weakly to Stan's greeting Harry slowly mounted the stairs onto the bus. Mechanically he reached into his pocket and dug out a handful of sickles handing them over Stan, and making his way to a seat near the back of the bus. Stan sensing the darkness that surrounded the young man decided not to try and strike up a conversation.

Harry deciding that he didn't want any problems with the Dursley's that summer he asked Ernie to let him off at the park where they had found him years earlier. Looking around he saw the bushes where he had first caught a glimpse of the man who would later become so important in his life. Starting his journey to number four Privet Drive he passed through the tunnel where he had fought to keep his cousin from a fate worse then death. As he left the tunnel he felt a drop of water on his face. Looking up at the cloudy sky he couldn't help but laugh a little as the sky opened up drenching him to the bone in seconds. He laughed because somehow he felt that the universe knew the mood that he was in and was responding in its own way.

As he made his way up Privet drive his mind began to wander back to that night in the department of mysteries. He quickly became unaware of his surroundings as he made his way back to his prison, walking as if he was on auto-pilot. Because of this he tripped on the first step leading to the front door his trunk slipping out of his grasp and bursting open in the process. Harry grunted as he reached down to pick up his few measly possessions the act reminding him of how little he owned. His mind still on that night he mechanically reached into his pocket for the keys and opened the door to what he had come to realize was his prison. The first thing that he noticed was that all the lights were off. The second thing that he noticed was the shine on his aunts favourite frying pan as it came flying at his face. The last thing that Harry saw was a bright flash before he passed out both from the blow and the pain it caused.

When Harry woke up he was tied to something and his head felt lie the twins had had their beater practice with his face. He knew exactly where he was even without his glasses having stayed up late staring at that stain on his ceiling every summer for the last five years. He was in his room and he could feel he was tied to his bed. He tried to think back to what had happened to land him in this spot. The first thing that he thought was that this was all Voldemort's work. It was then that he remembered opening the front door and noticing that all the lights were out. That's when it hit him. Both literally and figuratively. His uncle was the cause for all this. He knew that the man was capable of a lot but this was a little much even for him. But there was no doubting the evidence around him. Just then the door opened and as he feared his uncle was standing there.

"It's all your fault boy. It has to be." he could hear the alcohol in Vernon's voice and smell it on his breath even from his bed. This was bad. He knew his uncle and from the way that he was talking it looked like he had lost it. "She left me and it was all your fault. She said that she couldn't handle the abuse anymore and left. Took Dudder's with her. But I know the truth. You used your Freak-craft on her didn't you." Vernon was standing over him now holding what could have only been a knife. It was at this point that Harry knew that he was going to die. Not at the hands of some psycho Death eater. Not at the hands of Voldemort. No he would die at the hands of the man that Dumbledore trusted with his safety for the past 14 years. The irony didn't escape him and he laughed. It was slow at first but began to pick up fast gaining an air of the insanity of his life that was finally catching up to him.

His uncle taking this as a sign that he was right raised the knife above his head. Holding it with both hands Harry could make out the smile of satisfaction on his face. "This isn't how I was suppose to die. What about the prophecy," Harry pleaded his laugh dying in his throat. "What about all the people that are willing to give their lives, and those who have already given their lives to make sure that I finish my destiny. I have to do this for them. I have to avenge Sirius. I can't die..." the rest of Harry's frantic whispers were masked as blood pooled in his lungs. He began to cough and wretch trying to clear a path so that he might be able to breath but it was useless. He was dead and he knew it. He had let everyone down. As the last of his life left his body a crow cawed outside his window as if it were waiting for this to happen.