A flash of brown, bushy hair whipped out of the portrait hole. I jumped from my chair where I had fallen asleep earlier and sprinted up to the boy's dormitory. I looked around the collection of sleeping boys, quickly spotting the troubled face of my best friend. Harry was breathing heavilly as he slept, his expression pained and sad. He was most likey dreaming about his parents.
I shook him awake, wincing as he whispered the name... Voldemort. I shook him again, breathing in deeply as his eyes fluttered open. He groaned and sat up, rubbing his messy hair. He looked dazed, confused, and momentarily shocked. Then a grin swept over his face as he realized it was me.
"Harry, I need the cloak. It's... er... important."
"What? Important? Well, all right. Don't get caught... Blimey, it's late."
He had glanced at his clock, which sported the time 1:36 AM. When he was done muttering to himself, he tossed his head towards his trunk, indicating his cloak was inside. Then, without a word of goodbye or wave of the hand, he drifted off into nightmares once again.