It is not often that one gets to see the past or at least what they think is the past flash before their eyes, but Harry can most certainly say he would rather have not seen it. One can always think of death as a mystery or the last thing to be conquered, but Harry had always thought of death as a means to an end or maybe an old friend. Maybe that was because of how he lived the first few years of his life, or maybe it was the feeling of dread that always surrounded him like a second skin. Harry always felt like his existence was leading to Judgment Day that he had been trained for years to be the last hope of the universe.
Then however Harry thinks about what the voice said in his dream, (Author note this part is a recap from last chapter skip to the end of italics to continue reading if you don't want to read it.) "It's funny to think that you will one day be the "key" that gets everything started and when they come looking for you life will have made quite the impression on you. Oh don't worry "little key" when the time comes I will be laughing as they scramble to set right what they shouldn't have played with. At the end all that will be waiting for them depending on you "little key" is death and destruction or something else. I personally can't wait for the decision you make "little key" after all you may think the answer is simple right now but what about after you have experienced the life they have planned for you?"
Now it was time for Harry to process what he had seen after he collapsed to the floor in his room. He remembered well maybe remembered wasn't the right word because he really hadn't seen the figure of black as much as he felt its presence. Its presence felt like something ancient and as old as time he was pretty sure that it meant nothing good for the feeling of dread he always felt sense as far back as he can remember. He couldn't ponder on it any further as he felt himself waking up and hearing voices at the edge of his consciousness. Before he felt himself waking Harry had a thought he was almost afraid of being true. What if the figure he felt was the one who hide all of his scars and injuries was the same person, and if they were why had they gone to so much trouble of keeping him alive?