Harry woke up in a cold sweat, his heart thumping. He reached for his spectacles and as he looked around he realised he was not in a black hole but merely his dorm. He sighed in relief and got out of bed. This was the third time this had happened to him this week. He got ready for school and went downstairs for breakfast. He didn't say anything to anyone about his dreams and tried to act as if everything was normal but he couldn't pull it off.

"What's the matter Harold?" Ron asked.

"Will you PLEASE stop calling me that?!" Harry snapped.

"Oooh alright, moody." He laughed. Harry was not amused.

"Hatty, it's bad to keep things bottled up. Come on, tell your auntie Hermione." Hermione insisted as she pinched Harry's cheek.

"My name's not Hatty, or Harold. Why don't you all just leave me alone?!" Harry yelled. He stormed off, shoving Hermione's hand away from his cheek.

"Ooooooh!" Ron sneered sarcastically.

Harry woke up in a cold sweat, his heart thumping. He reached for his spectacles and as he looked around he realised he was not in a black hole but merely his dorm. He sighed in relief and got out of bed. Harry was not quite sure how much more he could take it. He wasn't used to such nightmares. He had a recurring dream in which he was falling. Down in the breakfast hall Hermione and Ron awaited him.

"What's the matter Harold?" Ron asked.

Harry sat in silence shooting daggers at his 'friends'.

"Hatty, it's bad to keep things bottled up. Come on, tell your auntie hermione." Hermione insisted as she pinched Harry's cheek.

Still not reply.

During Flugelhorm practice, Harry managed to sneak off without being noticed. He visited a local tree and had a rest.

Harry woke up in a cold sweat, his heart thumping, rocks digging into his back. He reached for his spectacles but he found nothing more than a handful of jagged glass peircing his hand. As he looked around he realised he was not in a black hole, or his dorm, but underneath a local tree surrounded by geese. He gasped in horror and tried to lift himself up but no such luck. After having a nervous breakdown, Harry pulled himself together and got out his magic spatula.

"ARGH!" He exclaimed as his traitor of a magic spatula gave him a splinter. Then he perfomed his spell.

"Duckius Helpius!" He chanted.

Not long afterwards a local goose came to his rescue and offered him an elbow to cry on. The duck, with all it's might, lifted Harry up and carried him to casualty.

Casualty selotaped his back together and said it would heal in no time.

Harry didn't want to risk falling down the proverbial hole again so he decided never to sleep again.

"Energius Boostius!" Harry chanted.

He never slept again. The next week Harry was so exhausted that his eye sockets drooped low enough to touch the floor. Not long afterwards, his eyes fell out.

Hermione saw Harry's pandemonium and picked up his shrivelled eyes and popped them back into his eye sockets.

"Now are you going to tell me what's going on in that head of yours?" Hermione asked, nodding understandingly.

Harry poured his little heart out, bless him, and Hermione suggested he seeked proffesional counselling.

Harry seeked proffesional counselling and before he could say "Hippopotomonstrosesquipedaliophobia" he was cured of his recurring dream!

Well unfortunately for Harry he wasn't very good at pronouncing such words so it took him about a month to be cured.

Harry woke up in a cold sweat, his heart thumping. He reached for his spectacles and as he looked around he realised he was not in Ponyland but merely his dorm. He should have been relieved, but he wasn't. He suddenly missed his recurring dream. He'd have preferred that to a girly dream about ponyland.

"Aww shit!" Harry Exclaimed.