Adnexus – Nightmares – JR

Summary:

Harry is having mysterious nightmares at the beginning of his fourth year at Hogwarts. Sirius knows what they mean. Dumbledore knows what they mean. And, however reluctantly he is to admit it, Snape knows what they mean too. But all's well, for Dumbledore has a plan to make it all better. Of course, Snape will be the one who has to carry out said plan. Why did he take this job again? Well, he's stuck with it now. And stuck with Harry.

Wormtail hated feeding his master. He should never have come back. He should have let Black and Lupin kill him. It would have been better than this fate. He did not want to move Voldemort closer to the fire. He did not want to milk Nagini. But still, he did it anyway. He was a servant after all. What else did servants do? They could spy and report to the enemy, Wormtail thought mutinously. But he must behave tonight. He had questions.

"My Lord, how long will we stay here?"

"A week or longer, Wormtail. Until the Quidditch World Cup is over, at least," Voldemort replied in his high, cruel voice. Wormtail nodded. It was not really important how long they stayed. There were more important matters to discuss.

"Are you still determined, my Lord?"

"But of course I am, Wormtail," Voldemort hissed in a scolding tone. I should have known better than to ask, Wormtail grudgingly admitted to himself. Wormtail sighed and bravely continued.

"It could be done without Harry Potter." Voldemort raised a cold, cruel, accusing eyebrow at Wormtail, who shrank slightly back, taking a step away.

"I don't suggest this out of concern for him, my Lord!" he added quickly. "But – but without him, it could be done so – so much faster!"

"NO!" Voldemort hissed. "I will use no other! We will proceed with the plan!"

"B-but, my Lord, Harry P-potter is so hard to get at," Wormtail insisted, though his courage was fading away by now.

"Silence!" Wormtail immediately heeded Voldemort's command. "The plan has no flaws! My faithful servant at Hogwarts will make no mistakes, Wormtail. We make no changes!" Wormtail fell into a sulky silence, sore at his failed attempt to waver his master's dangerous plan. After a while Voldemort's voice assumed a new tone.

"Just one more murder, Wormtail, yes… Yes, Bertha Jorkins was most helpful and her death will go unnoticed for some time." Here the Dark Lord paused to laugh his evil mirthless laugh. "One more killing and our path to Harry Potter is clear!"

Harry kept replaying the dream in his head. With shaking hands he pulled a scroll of parchment, quill and ink toward him and sat down at his desk. He ran a finger over the lightning-bolt shaped scar on his forehead. It was aching and throbbing and felt hot to the touch. His face was covered in cold sweat.

Harry took a deep breath and looked out the foggy window at the quiet peaceful street of Privet Drive. It was the last place you'd expect to find an evil, murderous wizard and his cowardly, back-stabbing servant.

Harry took another deep breath, dipped his quill in the ink and placed its tip on the parchment to write a letter to his godfather, Sirius Black.

When Harry was finished his letter was very long. He had included every detail of the dream he could remember. He sat back in his chair and re-read what he had written, pushing his round glasses up on his nose, which was still wet with perspiration. After adding a few words here and scratching out a few there, Harry was satisfied with his letter. He left it on his desk for Hedwig to deliver and began pacing around his room, waiting for her to return from hunting.

Voldemort had some sort of plan. That, of course, was bad. But the worst part was that he had Wormtail, and not just Wormtail, either. A faithful servant at Hogwarts. That was anything but good. In fact, that was horrible. They'd killed Bertha Jorkins, whoever that was, and they apparently had just one more person in their way. One more person they had to murder and then, then they were going to kill Harry.

Harry shivered as Hedwig soared through his open window and landed gracefully on top of her cage. She saw Harry's letter and dropped the dead rat she had in her beak in excitement that she was getting a delivery. Harry walked over to his beautiful snowy owl and picked up his letter to Sirius. Hedwig obediently held up a leg for him to tie the scroll to. Seconds later she had flown back out into the night again and was gone.

Harry stared out his window, watching the white speck in the sky that was Hedwig. Then he slammed the glass shut and buried his face in his hands, sinking on to his bed. He took a deep breath and sighed loudly. He took his hands away from his face, removed his glasses, and lay back on his pillow, staring at the ceiling. He rubbed his scar again.

How he wished it had never been there.

Sirius Black sat comfortably and quietly in an abandoned cottage on a beach, absentmindedly staring out at the starry sky. He saw that one of the stars seemed to be coming toward him. Then he noticed that it had wings.

"Hedwig!" he guessed, standing and opening the window for her. "Hey, girl." Sirius patted his godson's owl on the head and removed the scroll tied to her leg. He handed over the leftovers from his dinner and crossed the room to lean on Buckbeak the hippogriff.

After reading Harry's letter, Sirius's good mood was completely gone. This could only mean one thing, and he hoped to God that he was wrong, or that Harry had just had a nightmare. He crumpled the letter in his fist and began to pace his room in distress.

Finally, after what seemed like hours of pacing urgently across the dusty wooden floorboards, Sirius seemed to make up his mind. He sat back down on the dilapidated bed in the corner, where Hedwig still sat, munching happily on bit of bone from an unfortunate seagull that Sirius had caught as Snuffles, the bear-like black dog he could transform into.

Sirius searched through the many pockets in his cloak and finally found what he was looking for – a scroll of old parchment, a rather squished quill, and a tiny cartridge of ink.

He then wrote a hurried letter to Albus Dumbledore…

"Severus, things are going to have to be much different between you and Harry this year." Snape snorted. There was no way in Hell that he and Harry were ever going to treat each other any different. The arrogant brat was just like his father – completely full of himself.

"I think, Severus, that if you might try to get along with him… even just in the slightest bit, he would do the same," Dumbledore continued, ignoring the rude sound Snape had made to express his doubt that such a thing was possible. "Will you try to work with him?" Snape raised a disbelieving eyebrow at the Headmaster. Things were just fine the way they were. Why did Dumbledore want them to change?

"Forgive me, Headmaster," Snape sneered. "But what is the point of this meeting?" Dumbledore gave him a stern look over the top of his half-moon spectacles. In answer he handed Snape the letter he had just received from Sirius Black. Snape read the letter silently, pausing at the signature. He gritted his teeth.

"May I ask," he said coldly. "Why you are communicating with him?" He thrust Sirius's letter back at Dumbledore bitterly. He'd hoped that, even though Black had not had the Dementor's Kiss performed on him, he had at least seen the last of him.

"I think you know the answer to that, Severus," Dumbledore replied, just as coldly. "It is you who needs to accept that Sirius is innocent."

"Innocent my ass," Snape muttered under his breath so that Dumbledore could not hear him. But he knew what Harry's dream must mean, and he didn't like it any more than either of them did. He sighed.

"I suppose you want me to look around for this faithful servant?"

"On the side, perhaps," Dumbledore told him, the twinkle returning to his shockingly blue eyes. A half-smile creased his old lips. Snape could not help but dread the orders that would soon issue from those smiling lips.

"What new amusing task have you for me now, Headmaster?"

"I want you to look after the boy, Severus." Dumbledore's lips were twitching now. He looked like he wanted to laugh. Snape's fists clenched.

"Do I not do enough looking after him already, Albus?" he demanded quietly.

"Oh, this time you'll have some of my magic to aid you in the task." Dumbledore stood and opened a drawer in his desk. He pulled out two necklaces. From each was hanging a shiny, pink, half-heart shaped pendent, one saying in girly purple letters 'Best' and the other 'Friends.'

Snape glared apprehensively at the two necklaces dangling from Dumbledore's old fingers. Somehow, he thought, this year was not going to be enjoyable for him at all.