For Harry, summers were usually the worst part of the year for him. He missed his classes and he missed his friends. Even before he went to Hogwarts summers were bad. His cousin Dudley, whose weight was still increasing, had been a bully his whole life and had made Harry's life miserable as a child. Nowadays, he managed to retain his title of Junior Heavyweight Inter-School Boxing Champion of the Southeast for the second year in a row, and simultaneously kept up his reputation of beating up anyone who disagreed with him. However, since Dudley had met a few full-grown wizards, he was not keen to be at the wrong end of a wand again, so he usually stayed clear of Harry.
                              
      This summer was different. As much as he hated being at the Dursleys', he hated the thought of going back. In the magic world, he was famous before he could walk and talk. He always was at the center of attention. His years at school were more than eventful. The famous Harry Potter was always followed by ridicule and slander, and up until now, it was bearable. He did not know what to expect when he went back. Last year, almost everybody thought he was insane or an attention-seeking showoff. They did not want to believe that Lord Voldemort returned. It was impossible for them. Finally, the Ministry of Magic accepted the truth at the end of the school year when Voldemort was seen inside the Ministry itself.
                              
      How is everybody going to react now? he wondered. He, Harry Potter, the one who caused the fall of Lord Voldemort, had turned from being the deranged liar and potentially dangerous showoff, into the hero who stood up to the ridicule of the entire wizarding world and revealed that the Dark Lord had indeed returned. But he was not a hero. He did not cause Voldemort's temporary demise. His mother sacrificed herself to protect him and that was why the unblockable Killing Curse reflected off him. He did nothing. He never did anything, but cause the death of the people around him.
                              
      He could not handle it anymore. Sometimes he wished he had never learned he was a wizard, or that he was the reason Voldemort killed his parents. Two months ago, he had found out why they died. He had known how they died, because in his third year at school, he met dementors, which were tall, hooded, soul-sucking fiends that make their victims relive their worst memories.  
                              
      On the several occasions that he came within the vicinity of the dementors, he heard exactly the way his parents died. His father, James Potter, fought off Voldemort while telling his mother, Lily, to escape with Harry. After Voldemort killed his father, he told his mother to move aside so he could kill him. She did not and begged Voldemort to spare him, but he killed her to get to him. However, as Voldemort tried to kill him, his mother's sacrifice evoked ancient magic that protected him, and the spell tore Voldemort from his body.
                              
      Why had Voldemort gone straight for him that day? He did not seem to care about killing his mother or his father. Voldemort was just trying to kill him. Dumbledore finally told him the truth at the end of the school year. Voldemort did not want to kill either of his parents, only him, because of a prophecy that was made shortly before he was born. It foretold his birth and that he would have the power to stop Voldemort. What was bothering him and the reason he was avoiding his friends, was that in the end either Lord Voldemort must kill him or he must kill Voldemort.
                              
      He went over it many times. How could he, Harry, an underage wizard, less than half his age, kill the most powerful Dark wizard ever known? Moreover, Voldemort had already escaped death once. The force of his Killing Curse that Voldemort tried to use on him must have had a lot of power behind it and it was deflected back on to him, and it did not even kill him. How could he conquer the darkest wizard ever known? Moreover, if he did, that would make him a murderer.  
                              
      The prophecy continued to ring in his hears. The harsh voice of his divination teacher, Professor Trelawney cut through his head like butter: