ok, here it is... it's not much and it's not very good
That night Harry dreamed again, only this time it was different. He was at Hogwarts, and he was sitting at Dumbledore's funeral, only it was a different scene than at the real funeral. Ginny and Hermione and Ron were not trying to conceal their greif at all, and were crying openly. He couldn't see himself anywhere. Then the man who had spoke at Dumbledore's funeral spoke again. Again Harry could not hear what he said, but it sounded like the speach he had heard only a few short weeks before. The man sat down again and they carried out the body, which Harry assumed would be Dumbledore's. Harry, not thinking about what would happen, walked up to the men carrying the body. No one seemed to notice him. Harry looked down at the body, hoping to see Dumbledore one more time before he was laid to rest, but instead the body he saw was... his.
For the second night in a row, Harry awoke in a cold sweat. He remembered his dream and the thought of his body sent shivers down his spine. Harry got up and started to pace the room. He thought to himself 'This is silly, getting all riled up about a silly dream.' But deep inside he knew it was more than a dream. He knew it was his greatest fear, appearing in his sub-concious mind. He laid back down under his covers, staring at the ceiling. He tried to go back to sleep, but his attempts were meaningless. All he managed to do was count 500 sheep. He ended up just lying there thinking about things. Thinking about Sirius, his godfather, and that night at the Ministry. Thinking about Luna, Neville, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny. Thinking about Cedric Diggory. Thinking about Wormtail and their 'bond'. Thinking about Dumbledore.
At 9:00 in the morning Harry finally got out of bed. Silently he got dressed, and proceeded downstairs. He opened the kitchen door, not bothering to see if the Dursley's were in there or not. Fortunately they weren't. Harry sidled over to the fridge, opening the door slowly just in case Dobby popped up again. Pulling out the milk, he walked over to the cabinets. He grabbed a glass and poured himself some milk. He put the milk away and sat down at the table, drank his milk, and went back to his room. He wasn't really hungry. That's when he remembered.
'That's right, I'm going to the Burrow today' Harry thought and started to pack up all of his books into his trunk. This cheered him up considerably. "Why do I still have this..." he murmered "It's not like I'm going back." But the thought of parting with his old school trunk was like letting go of many, many good memories. He remembered the first time he used it, and when he first went through the barrier with it... so many memeories. He threw in the rest of his things and hauled the full trunk down the stairs.