Note: names of characters and places are property of J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros. (If they even have rights, I'm not so sure)
I'm truly sorry for all the complications. I've messed up this story when trying to edit it and for some strange reason, my story has been deleted from FanFiction.net. I am editing all the chapters from this story, making them longer and more interesting, so it will take me a while to post chapters I have already written. Sorry again. Enjoy and please review.
CHAPTER ONE: THROUGH THE PORTRAIT
~*~*~*~
When does reality end and our imagination begin? Every day these two factors collide to form our world, our reality. But what happens when we cross the invisible and fragile boundary that separates truth from fiction? Will we realize that we are living a lie? Or accept it as the truth?
~*~*~*~
He woke with a start. Sweat was running down his cold
face.
"It was just another
bad dream, just another one," he whispered into the warm light. He looked
around the dimly lit dorm room, with its deep piles of clothes and spell books.
His scar was tingling painfully. He shook his head, crawled out of bed, and
gathered his homework and books for his following classes. "Nothing unusual has
happened so far at school. I guess I should be happy, without Voldermort to
worry about… so far. But I need
something that as exciting and as adventurous as my dreams. Not another 'oh
he's so brave to face you-know-who' adventure. Just something exciting." Harry
paused, wondering if he was becoming as arrogant and attention seeking as many
people believed he was. He shook his head, determined never to turn into that,
and continued to collect his books as he hurried down the stairs and out the
portrait.
It was like any other day at Hogwarts School
of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The cool autumn breeze was blowing lightly,
carrying the scent of dewy leaves and sending silent ripples through the placid
lake as the giant squid surfaced lazily and drifted across the water. The
bright red and orange colors of the scattered trees danced in the light, and he
was late.
"Mr. Potter, you are late again," said Professor Snape with an icy glare. "If this happens one more time-"
"It won't. Trust me," Harry quickly replied, trying to cover a yawn at the same time. He shuffled over to his seat at the back of the classroom. He settled down and tried to ignore the shifting eyes and sympathetic looks from Gryffindor students and the smirks from Slytherin.
"20 points from Gryffindor. And let this be a warning to all of you." Snape turned his head and cast a glaring eye at the Gryffendor students, finally resting his hateful look at Harry. "Lateness will not be tolerated. Not in my class."
"Great," Harry thought to himself. "I'm late, tired and just lost 20 points." He silently opened his bag and retrieved the materials needed for the Veritaserum Potion. Once Harry had all the required materials before him on the counter, he looked up at the board where Snape had placed the instructions. He quickly read the instructions needed to make the potion, realizing it was the most complicated potion he had ever attempted to brew.
1. Fill caldron 2/3 with boiling water. After water boils for two minutes, set to a simmer.
2. Smash .3 lbs. Of beetle eyes and add to simmering water. – When added, the beetles should produce a faint hiss and a murky gray color.
Harry stared blankly at the board, hoping he could pull off a D for this assignment as he continued to read the instructions.
7. Stir mix for 10 minutes, rotating stirring positions every 5 seconds, starting with
clockwise, while adding .1 oz of pollinated liver juice and .4 lbs. of diced salamander toe every 8 seconds. – The potion should be producing quarter size bubbles and should now be clear. NOTE: Precise and accurate measurement and timing is key.
He cast an eye around the room and saw most of the students had completed the first few steps of the potion. Harry set to work, chopping his herbs and crushing his beetle eyes. After a few minutes of chopping, stirring and measuring, he quickened is pace, attempting to catch up to them and trying to concentrate on his work while Professor Snape breathed down his neck, watching his every move and criticizing his work.
"Potter, what in God's name are you doing to those roots? They are suppose to be finely shredded, not mutilated to bits of nothing! And watch that potion of yours. It's too thin and - green! 15 points from Gryffindor for failing to follow instructions, Mr. Potter." Harry ignored Snape's comments, much to his professor's distress as he continued to 'mutilate' his roots. Hermione looked over at Harry as he began to stab the remaining chunk of his root, muttering.
"35 points. Idiot. Die! Goddamn, worthless git!" Harry muttered, a little too loud as he saw Professor Snape cast an evil eye in his direction. Ron tried to muffle a laugh and avoid Hermione's stern glance. Harry allowed himself to exhale when Snape continued down the row of tables without taking off any more points from Gryffindor. As the class progressed, Professor Snape, who seemed to enjoy taking his more-abundant-than-usual frustration and anger out on him, continuously ridiculed Harry as he walked up and down the rows of desks, inspecting his students work and progress.
"Your time is up. Bottle up your final work," Snape smoothly said. Then he turned his gaze and glared at Harry, "or whatever you have managed to produce during your time and bring it up to my desk to be graded. You will continue with the Veritaserum Potion tomorrow and will finish in time for the full moon cycle. Now, your homework," Snape growled as his students moaned in frustration, "will be to write a 15 inch essay on the Veritaserum Potion and its uses during wars and in government to be handed in on Wednesday. By that time, your potions should be complete and mature. They will be tested on a selected few for efficiency."
Harry quickly cleaned his spot and placed his remaining materials in to his bag and sighed in relief as he headed out of the cold dungeon that was Professor Snape's classroom. He heavily breathed in the autumn air as he climbed the winding stairs up to his next class. The warm air that filled the halls slightly lifted Harry's spirits, but not quite comforting him. He continued to breathed in the sweet air heavily as he climbed the latter and opened the trap door to the classroom and nearly gagged. As he entered his 3rd period class, he heard Ron choking behind him.
"Damn fumes! I'm gonna - (cough) - get brain damage from all the - (cough) - goddamn incense that - (cough) - crazy git burns. It's killing my inner eye!" Ron wheezed out.
Divinitation didn't go smoothly either. After a bumpy Potions class with the Slytherins, Harry settled down in the perfume-filled, dimly lit room of Professor Trelawney's classroom. They were studying premonitions, which seemed pointless to everyone, excluding Lavender and Parvati. For a reason unknown to Harry, and a majority of the class, they were always eager to learn and accepted Professor Trelawney's babble as truth.
"Remember class, premonitions may be seen in the conscious or unconscious world. A trigger in your memory, the unraveling of a dream, all lead to the future of others, or yourself. It is highly important that you master this gift and see what lies ahead. The inner eye sees many things," Professor Trelawney said as she silently glided around the room. "For today's class, we are going to continue to study premonitions. This time should be used to exercise your inner eye, making premonitions more accessible. You will translate any dreams or feeling you have had over the last week with a partner. You may begin."
Harry and Ron sat together on their puffs, failing to 'exercise their inner eye' as they mindlessly talked about Quidditch and their professors. When they noticed Professor Trelawney silently approaching them, they quickly feigned interest on possible premonitions.
"I can't see a thing, unless I'm receiving a premonition of the world being engulfed in complete darkness," Ron said not to quietly. The room burst into whispered fits of laughter as Professor Trelawney silently glided over to Ron.
"My dear boy," She whispered in a hypnotizing tone, "you must clear your mind and defog your inner eye. I predict that you will not receive a premonition until the closing of the semester. Therefore, you must concentrate harder and free your eye."
"You want me to pluck my eyes out and give them to you as a Christmas present? That way they'll really be free," muttered Ron under his breath as he glared at Trelawney. "Bet she didn't predict that coming," Ron mumbled to Harry as Professor Trelawney turned her back and glided away out of frustration.
"Though my inner eye says differently, I have a strong feeling that you will never master or be able to comprehend the fine art of receiving premonitions," Professor Trelawney said in a misty manner. The class settled down again without any further disruptions. Professor Trelawney approached each student, attempting to guide her students into the art and skill of premonitions.
"Defog your eye and reach into the depths of your soul," she said to a Hufflepuff. "You will know the answer you are seeking, it will come to you if you concentrate," she whispered to Dean Tomas. "My dear boy, I fear, if you have the gift of foresight, you will be able to see the cruel destruction of someone close to you," she said at last, glancing sorrowfully at Harry.
"Figures," Harry flatly said, not caring who heard him.
After an hour of silence, countless attempts to recall odd feelings and dreams and useless comments, Professor Trelawney excused them with homework concerning their findings on their future.
"Now class, for homework you will hand in a log of your dreams and strange moments to be decoded and translated next week. I predict that all of you," she turned and smiled at Lavender and Parvatil, "will return to class successful and eager to unravel your future."
The student quickly filed out of the tower, relieved to leave the musty room and hear the noises of the school. Harry and Ron quickly headed off to the Great Hall for lunch, while he faintly heard Ron making stabs at Professor Trelawney's babble and Snape's icy manner. Ron's insults quickly turned into a full out argument with Hermione, which ended in the silent treatment for both of them. Harry's day was not going smoothly. After lunch, Harry, Ron and Hermione walked across the lawn and headed towards Hagrid's hut for Care of Magical Creatures. As they neared his hut, Harry heard a faint roar.
"Great, Hagrid decided to bring in some wild beast for us to play with. I hope it bites Malfoy's head off," muttered Ron as they approached the class. The students gathered around the pen, all trying to see what new animal they were going to study. Hagrid walked towards his class, on the other side of the fence, wearing dragon scale gloves and a thick jacket.
"OK now, gather round. I've been wantin' to show you these beauties for a while. Couldn't till yer seventh year, also needed Dumbledore's permission fer this," Hagrid said while beaming brightly. "Now I don't want none of you ter go screamin', you'll make 'em angry." He looked around the hushed class, glad to see all his students listening intently. "OK then, I'll go get 'em. They're round the back." Hagrid turned and walked to the far side of the pen and disappeared behind the corner.
"I bet that old fool's gonna get himself fired for this. Or better yet, killed," sneered Malfoy from behind a group of Gryffindor girls. "Dumbledore's got to be mad to allow this thing to teach us, or handle animals he can't even control." Malfoy smirked as he got approving nods from the other Slytherins. Harry spun around, wand outstretched, glaring at Malfoy.
"Watch it, Malfoy."
"Is that all you have to say? Watch it? Why Potter, you're slower than I remember. That's what happens when you hang around poor Weasel and that filthy mudblood. Or maybe it's because of that oaf of a teacher. He so dumb he can't even string a sentence together and say it correctly." Malfoy smirked and Pansy gave a shrill of laughter. "You know what they call people like you, Potter?" Malfoy said, leaning in closer. "Fucking he-" Malfoy froze in mid sentence, eyes wide with fear and disgust. The rest of the class grew silent. Harry slowly turned around, unsure if he wanted to see what Hagrid brought out to show them. He gasped in amazement.
"This here is a Norwegian ridgeback. His name is Norbert." Hagrid proudly said as he looked around at his students, grinning widely.
"You named that thing?" Malfoy said in disgust.
"Well, er, yah. I mean, don't you name yer pets? Anyway, Norbert here is one of the finest dragons you'll find out in the wild. Their scales are-" Harry's mind faded away from the lecture. Why had Hagrid brought Norbert back? Was he going to keep him at school and try to keep him as a pet like last time? "-like cool conditions n' prefer ter live in the mountains-" What if someone found out that Hagrid had Norbert illegally during his first year? Malfoy already knew. Would he recognize him? What if – oh shit. No. Harry snapped back to reality as he saw Lavender nervously approach Norbert with much resistance. She lifted her shaking hand towards the dragon, which was now sending smoke from its nostrils. Slowly and carefully Lavender raised her hand and let out a piercing scream when the dragon turned its head and sent small flames from its open mouth. It reared up on its hind legs and flapped its powerful wings. The whole class screamed and ran back to the castle.
"No! Don't scream, you'll make 'im mad. Yer just need ter be calm!" yelled Hagrid over the screams and shouts. But it was no use. All the students were halfway back to the castle, excluding Harry, Ron and Hermione, who were slowly backing away. "Ah, I thought it would be interestin' fer you ter see a real dragon. 'N I thought Norbert would be perfect. He's tame n' all. Just got scared."
"It was really interesting, Hagrid," Hermione said reassuringly. "Lavender can be a nervous person and new things, that's all. Maybe you should try again some other time. And give us all a warning ahead of time."
"Yah, maybe a two months head notice," said Ron. "So we all can mentally prepare ourselves," he muttered to Harry when Hagrid's back was turned.
* * * * *
The rest of his day swirled and collided painfully together in a blur of mishaps, misfortune and misery. After dinner, Ron and Hermione (who were on speaking terms again) walked in silence back t the Gryffindor tower to find Harry busy scribbling answers for his Defense Against the Dark Arts homework. They approached Harry and settled down beside the roaring fire and started their endless pile of homework with Harry. They sat there in silence; only Ron spoke to ask Hermione countless questions. Their presence went unknown to Harry as he sat, muttering to himself. Time slowly dragged on. They noticed that Harry continued to work diligently on his homework, only pausing to cover up a yawn. They didn't bother to question him about his absence at dinner or tell him to stop and go to bed.
* * * * *
At the end of his long day, Harry struggled through endless piles of homework, unaware of his two friends sitting beside him, trying to figure out how to turn a burning oak twig into a bubble of cool, dazzling light for Transfiguration. He knew he had to master the transfiguration for tomorrow's class, as they were advancing to more complex orbs.
"Flammifer Circulus. Flammifer Circulus!" Harry yelled as he pounded his wand against the flame. After a few minutes of unsuccessful attempts he turned to the cause of the 7 Year War of the Fere Family for Professor Bins. Harry stared at his parchment in disbelief. He only had a poorly written introduction and a few extra lines that weakly supported his thesis. Harry looked up from his parchment to see Ron asleep and slightly drooling over his unfinished history essay. He gave out a yawn, opened A History of Magic and flipped through the pages aimlessly. As Harry sat, absorbed in his homework, he failed to notice the soft steps approaching him.
"Harry, you look exhausted. Why weren't you at dinner to night? Ron and I were worried about you. You have to stop working and get some sleep," said a stern, but kind voice.
"I can't." He peeled his tired eyes away from his book and looked up to see Hermione, his best friend. "I need to finish this. If I don't, I might as well throw myself into the lake and let the giant squid strangle me, just to save Snape the trouble of killing me himself." A concerned look swept over her face in response to his lame joke.
"Don't say that. You know Snape would never hurt you. He's a teacher and a member of the Order of the Phoenix. He swore to protect you. And you know Dumbledore would never let anyone near you if he didn't trust them."
Harry glared at her with his mouth open, trying to find something to say. "So? I doubt that's gonna stop him." He looked at Hermione who matched his glare in return. "Anyway, why are you telling me to go to sleep? You're the one who always is the last to go to bed and the first one to get to the library and finish all your work with twice the effort." She opened her mouth to protest but quickly closed it, unsure in how to argue her case. Irritated, she picked up her backpack.
"Just don't stay up too late, ok? You look like you could use some sleep, with all the homework we're receiving, extra curricular activities, the O.W.L's to study for and your Quidditch practices, I have no idea how you manage it all." When she got no reply, Hermione sighed deeply. "Sweet dreams." She turned her heels and walked up the stairs, which led to the girls' dormitory. Harry watched her disappear up the winding staircase before turning his attention back to his unfinished essay. Harry sat next to the fire, all alone, excluding Ron, for what seemed like eternity. His burning eyes stung like a knife smoothly gliding down his skin. He again flipped the endless pages of his history textbook, trying to find what little information would help him complete his 20-inch assignment. He covered a yawn as he scanned a promising paragraph about the outcome of the 7 Year War. He quickly read the paragraph and scribbled down the information, writing long and complex sentences to fill up space. After barely finishing 20 inches, Harry turned to his uncompleted Divinitation homework. It was a quarter past one.
"I'll take a rest, just to relax… only to relax… to get… some sleep…"
After slaving over his homework, Harry left the common room and trudged through the dark halls of Hogwarts to until he came to the picture of a bowl of fruit. Anger over Snape and his life was boiling inside him, waiting to burst and spill onto the floor. He tickled the pear and entered the kitchen, slowly, silently, as if to make his presence unknown. Harry cast an eye around the dimly lit kitchen, glad that all the house elves were asleep and unaware of his presence. He glided over to the kitchen counter, glancing at the knives that were just out of his reach.
"Meat," he whispered in a hoarse voice. "That's what I'll have tonight. A red, blood-soaked steak." Harry picked up a long, sharp blade and carried it to the fridg. He silently grabbed a piece of steak, which was as long as a human arm, and walked carefully to the counter. After waiting patiently in the dark, his blood soaked meat called to him, begging him to be cut. Harry ignored the plea at first. But it soon grew into piercing screams of terror. He moved to the steak, drew up the knife, and carefully, smoothly and glided the blade down the red piece of death before him. But that one simple cut sent him hurling across the line. He began to slice and stab the red meat before him. And as his blows grew more intense, so did the screaming voice of the steak, begging to be slashed more. Then all of a sudden, he stopped. The voice had ceased and he looked down at the once perfect piece of meat, now deformed and bleeding. He looked down and saw his clothes, once crisp and new, now smeared with dark bloodstains and flakes of meat flesh. In that one brief moment, Harry had thought he had gone insane. But the thought that scared him more was the fact that he had enjoyed his outburst of fury.
Harry bolted upward, clutching his pounding heart and gasping for breath. The feeling was gone, as if it never had happened. He looked around his dark, shadow-covered room. The air was still and heavy with humidity. There was no sound heard but the steady breathing of other students. He reached over to his bedside table knocking over a few books as he felt for his glasses. He paused, listening for the sound of waking students, when he heard none, he put on his glasses and lifted his wrist, trying to read the time in the dimly lit room. It was 1:42. Harry gave a sigh, threw back his sheets, opened the curtains of his four-post bed, and gingerly walked to the window of the Gryffindor tower. His head was pounding and his scar tingled. He tried to clear his mind, but his mind continued to turn back to his bizarre dream. Harry couldn't make sense of his dream, but no solution came to him.
"Just a nightmare. Just another nightmare." As he stood there, he felt his body shaking violently. Not from cold, but fear.
"Don't – remember - I'm suppose - to be - downstairs," Harry said in between gasps. He had no memory of leaving the common room, of walking up to his room, of going to bed. He only remembered his blood filled dream.
"Dream. Only a dream," he whispered before he collapsed back onto his bed, exhausted from the events that never happened.
NOTE: The incantation that Harry used for his Transfiguration homework, 'Flammifer Circulus' means 'flame-bearing circle' in Latin. I thought it would fit since a majority of J.K Rowling's spells have a Latin origin. Just a fun little fact.
