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Knight Terrors

Courage is not the absence of fear, rather the realization of something more important than fear. - Princess Dairies

Harry Potter, from birth to present day and no doubt on to his future death lived with fear. That is not to say that he lived his life in fear, for he has done many things others would not. The strongest emotion he had ever known to feel and the emotion he felt the most often aside anger was fear, hence a life with fear not in fear.

Everything started and ended with fear for him. He was raised in a house without love and in its place was hate and fear. He was told it was his fate to kill a man that everyone feared. They said he should fear him as well and almost never speak his name. He soon realized that if things went on this way for much longer he would die.

And he, while not afraid of the action of dying himself, worried over the repercussions his death would have on the living.

A man without fear is a man without hope. - DareDevil

Harry saw himself as a fool. The thought was not self-proclaimed to the world but thought of none the less. Harry when very little, always dreamed of having some special long lost relative burst through the Dursley's doors and announce his freedom of the people who hated him with such passion.

For many years he never lost hope, but soon realized that no one was coming. The world was full of selfish hateful people. When he turned eleven the forced cynicism did not leave, neither did the hope that someone was waiting for him. He had been such a conflicted child. So, he had gone to Hogwarts in search of people who wanted him.

When in a particularly downtrodden state he would question his fear of death. Why was it that every time he came close to succumbing to death in one form or another he would always hang on? What was he protecting by staying alive? Who was he protecting? What did the darkest corners of his mind know that he did not?

Yes, he had friends in a way. He knew people that did not deserve to die. He asked himself why he did not simply go through life without fear and concern for others. He would always end up blaming it on his hero complex. No one was there to save him so naturally he should always be there for others, right?

He knew he was a fool to still hope that even with his fate that there was a purpose to his existence. All he knew was that it sure as hell wasn't love that had protected him. It was far more likely a combination of fear and anger.

If he had to die, then he would kick as much ass as he could before the final blow. So, Harry Potter could not be the fearless symbol of light, but he could be brave. It came to him in his times of need like a knee jerk reaction. Bravery seemed to be more of a reaction of his fear, a symptom. As far as he knew, there was no cure.

As long as the fear tore at him from the inside, he would face the dangers ahead. There was only one thing more constant than his fear...the dreams.

The kind of dreams that would have any normal kid scarred for life had started to dance in his head a full month after he turned eight years old. He had no idea why that age or particular night in August had set off a never ending dark tale that played itself out almost nightly ever since.

They were not like the dreams Tom often saw fit to send him. They were dreams of a world wrought with crime and injustice. A world where there is not always a straight answer or a definite good side or bad side. It was a place ware the good guy died more often than not in the end. A world of fear and shadows was locked away inside his head.

These little journeys of torment were more commonly known as nightmares or Night Terrors. These flashes of another world, a darker world other than that of Private Drive gave insight to him at a young age. He realized how sheltered he and his family truly were.

It was his saving grace and nightly curse that allowed him to be the mild-mannered boy that went to Hogwarts. It is what led him to judge people by their actions. It is what also made him weary of trust. To give trust was to give the other person power over you. To lose hope would be to loose himself. While they maybe harmful to him, Harry couldn't help but feel grateful for the lessons his dreams brought him.

Too bad they were never just dreams when it came to Harry James Potter.


It was the summer before sixth year and things were going to be different. He could feel it. Every year Voldemort attacked him at the end of the school year as if to say "have a nice summer, Harry!" That would be different this time around. Dear Tom had been too busy to give him a steady flow of "nightmares" as others seemed to have titled them, a sure sign of weakness.

Sure, some if not most of what Tom sent him was disturbing, but a far cry from what stopped him from being bitter in the middle of the night. It seemed that his dreams, his real nightmares were getting worse. It had to mean something important. Such an obvious shift in subconscious was unusual, even for him.

And lastly, his favorite fact: ding dong the Umbitch is dead. He would never have to put up with the mean spirited toad again. This was immensely gratifying, considering he thought that he caught the disturbed amphibian undressing him with her eyes during detentions. He had practically flown to his sessions with Snape after that.

Yes, Voldemort was on the low and childhood trauma was on the rise this summer. He would have to keep his eyes open.