A boy woke up in a cold sweat, a gasp sounding as he sat up straight in his bed. His breaths came out in short, panting bursts. Moonlight steamed through the curtains, illuminating his glasses sitting on his bedside table. With a groan the boy sank back into his covers, meanwhile pulling shut the curtains streaming from the canopy above him. He must've forgotten to close them before collapsing onto his bed. Black tufts of hair clouded his vision, and they tufts sticking up illuminated his eyes like a halo. A red blanket was pulled up to the boy's chin and he slammed his eyes shut, desperate to go back to sleep. Though try as he might, he couldn't sleep. Visions of green lights danced across his eyelids, paired with glimpses of a white-gloved hand reaching for the stars. Images of people faded in and out, a red-head, a goth, a boy with a red beret, and two adults who dressed… oddly. 'Jazz, Sam, Tuck, Mom, Dad,' His thoughts added unhelpfully. Those two couldn't be his parents, his parents were dead. One final flash of green and a stab of pain clouded his mind, the last thing he'd seen before waking. The memories slid from his mind like water off of a raincoat, pooling at the bottom of his subconscious, soon to be forgotten. Well, it was just a dream, after all. Finally he managed to sleep off the visions of fantastical humanoids zooming through the skies and shooting blasts from their hands. His breathing evened, and the sweat which coated his skin became nothing but a nuisance. He dreamt easy, visions plaguing him no more.
"Harry, wake up!"