The Final Dream

Prologue

They were fading. The memories he had collected over the years were fading away like leaves in the wind. It should have bothered him, but it didn't, not really. In the back of his mind he knew he shouldn't be so calm about losing everything that defined him as himself, yet looking about at the world he was now in; he truly couldn't bring himself to care. For the first time he felt…at ease, as if all his regrets and sorrows had only chained him to the mortal realm when he could have been in a place beyond that of the ever-cruel world of life. Looking at the gentle hues of colors, he walked and merely observed all the sights this new world presented.

Around him leaves would continuously fall from the many trees, the fading sunlight highlighting the many shades of red, orange, and yellow that only the season of autumn could produce. He paused, extending his arm to catch a deep crimson colored leaf in his hand. His body relaxed even more while staring at the frail leaf in his hand and that left him quite puzzled. Why did the sight of a mere leaf bring such peace to his mind and body? Perhaps it was due to one of the memories he could no longer recall? Whatever the case may be, he cared not. Though he could not recall his memories, he could still remember that the feeling – peace – was not one he had ever truly felt in life and only now was he experiencing it.

Letting the leaf slip through his fingers, he continued walking through the forest, letting his feet guide him to wherever his final destination was. The further he walked, the more aware he became of a soft – almost nonexistent – melody, and oddly enough, it reminded him of violins. Though he hadn't the slightest clue what a violin was; it was more than likely another thing he had once known in life. The wind, which had been a mere breeze until now, picked up in speed and strength, and along with carrying leaves it also brought the sounds of laughter from a clearing far ahead. He ran; his mind screaming that there was something he should see, something that would answer all the questions his mind had yet to ask.

Grabbing at the branches that hid the clearing, he pushed them away and finally caught a glimpse of what lay within that small clearing. The first thing that caught his attention was the group of children playing together on the other side of the clearing. To be more specific, a boy who could be no older than seven was what really caught his attention, and an odd tug pulled on his heart when he took in the boy's appearance. Unruly black hair hung around a pale face, and wide green eyes that held an emotion he couldn't quite understand. The child had a short and slender frame, and from a distance could pass for a girl if one didn't look carefully. But it was the threadbare clothes that were much too big on the slender frame –the dirty, second-hand, shirt and pants that spoke of negligence and of a less than normal childhood –that was what tugged at his heartstring for some odd reason.

He knew the child, of that he was certain; though how was still a mystery to him. Standing at the edge of clearing, in the shadows of the many trees, he watched the children be simply children running to and fro while their laughter mingled in the air along with the melody of violins. And in that moment time ceased to mean and for how long he stood and watched he would never know. The melody and childish laughter came together and created a different sound, one that was much more gentler than anything he had ever heard. The bright colors of the leaves all twirled in the wind, as if playing with the children themselves. He let himself fall to ground, looking at the bright red sky with a small smile of understanding, though he really didn't understand anything of what was happening.

He was content to simply lay there and sleep, to finally close his eyes and allow the gentle sound of this strange world to lull him to an enteral sleep. And yet, the wind grew fierce, whipping his hair across his face like a silent plea to not sleep, not quite yet. And like a parent guiding their young child, so too did the wind guide him towards a small lake he had not notice until then. As he reached the very edge of the lake the wind stopped, but not before causing many leaves to fall gently to the clear blue surface of the lake. Amused, and somewhat annoyed that he could not yet sleep; he bent his head, staring at the lake's surface.

The gentle sound that only seconds before had been so soothing to him suddenly turned into a sound he could not bear. It was no longer like a mother's lullaby to him, no, it sounded like the mournful cry of a lost child now. But that wasn't what froze him so completely. The image reflected back at him from the lake's surface did. Haunted green eyes stared back at him, those wide green eyes were set in a pale face that seemed so young, and yet, so weary. Jet black hair hung wildly around the face of a teenager. Sharp, protruding cheekbones were set high on the pale face that may had at one time been called beautiful, but not anymore, the face appeared unhealthy and gaunt –washout and worn like an old filthy rag.

His face –that was his face, he was sure of it, and yet, why did he look so old and tired? Long, pale fingers reached to touch the sunken face –it was so cold, as if the sun had never graced his tired face with warmth. Stepping closer to the lake –he had to see the rest of his body –he finally saw himself fully. And there were no words but these to describe what he saw within the blue depths of the lake: A boy that was –had– wasted away in the solitude of darkness, a boy that was more dead than alive, and a boy that looked resigned at whatever fate he had to face. The mournful and pleading cries of a child in the air became higher pitch, screeching loudly in his ears –and then the words came with a painful clarity.

"No! Please no! I-I don't want to be the Master of Death! Just let me died! I want to be left in peace!"

A chilling voice answered, sharp words spoken with the smallest hint of fondness softening the harsh words, "My little master, there is much you have yet to learn –among those lessons is the one lesson I regret you have yet to know. But I promise you little master, soon you will be loved by the one you least expect –he will absolutely adore you. You shall be the light his soul lacked the first time you met him; but remember this, my dear little master: He will always be the darkness and you will always be his tainted little light. I wish you luck…my master."

Bear with me guys, everything that happened in this chapter will become clear with time. For now, review, review, and review! Writing a Tom/Harry fanfic has been my dream and I will finish this story if nothing else.