Disclaimer: Anything you recognize from the Harry Potter Books belongs to JK Rowlings, bless her. Anything else is mine.
Chapter 1: Nightmares
Kate woke up with her heart pounding. It was dark, rain hammering against her window. She looked around herself, the furniture of her bedroom scarcely recognizable by the dim street-light outside. Everything was normal – or what counted for normal lately. She thought of her nightmare, always the same, every night for half a year now. It had started around the same time the other odd things had began – glass breaking, when she was angry, a small explosion in a dustbin one day, when she had been frustrated by her boss's refusal to keep her in his office after her trial period had been over. She didn't understand what was going on, why these things happened, but even she had to admit, that somehow they had to do with her. She had no idea how.
And the nightmares: She would always find herself in place she had never been to, even though it looked familiar to her in her dream, and so real. It was a castle, with an enormous number of rooms and staircases, which, she knew for some reason, would move on occasion. But the disturbing thing was not the castle, it was the battle going on in it.
People in black robes, wearing cold ebony-coloured masks, were hunting others, "shooting" at them with sticks. Dead bodies covered the floors, most of them those of children. She was standing with the back to a stone wall, staring helplessly at the dead children, unable to scream despite the horror of it. And then a tall man was at her side, dressed in black as well, but without the mask. Strong black eyes looked at her, asking her to help him, to fight with him. "Don't trust him !" a voice shouted from the other end of the hall, where a small group still resisted the black-clad murderers. "Never trust him !" The man just continued looking at her, his expression blank. I have to go with him, she thought, but the shouting voice made her doubt. She couldn't move, unable to decide whether she should follow the man's unspoken – was it a plea ? – or be careful. Then it was too late, a high, screeching, giggle was heard and the man was involved in a red light, his face turning in pain. He sank to his knees, and than the walls around her started to crumble.
She always woke up then, feeling as if a horrible guilt had settled over her. Nothing ever changed, she had willed herself to go with him, the next time her dream would turn up, but always, at the last second, the doubts had overcome her.
Kate shook her head. All this was driving her mad. She looked at the alarm clock on the bedside table: 10 o'clock. As many nights of interrupted sleep had left her in a state of constant exhaustion – as well as many days of trying to keep a job, actually – she had dropped on her bed early that day. But no sleep was to be excepted for the next couple of hours. She pondered what she should do. She felt the need to go somewhere else, just out. Might as well hurry up and try for a pub, she decided.
Quickly she dressed and left her two – bedroom flat in Wandsworth. Not many people were in the streets with the rain still pouring down. Actually, she realized, nobody was in the street she was walking down, not even the occasional car. And it was very dark for a suburban street. There should at least be some windows lighted, but she could see none. She walked faster towards the next street-light. But as she got close to the circle of light it was throwing – it popped out. She ran. The next light popped out, too. Now she was panicking, she turned around a corner – the same scenery here: the street void of all people and the street-lights going off one by one. She was frantic now – this could not be her doing, could it ? The fear from her nightmare returned. She turned around the next corner – and stopped.
There was light. It was coming from a pub, that she could have sworn had not been here before. But it wasn't new, on the contrary it looked like one of those places that had been there since the times of Merry Old England, nothing like the fancy places that were opening now everywhere in Central London. She took a deep breath and walked towards it. "The Leaky Cauldron" an old-fashioned sign over the board said. When she opened the door, wanting to go inside, she stopped again. Please, let me wake up ! she thought.
Apparently she had said it aloud, because a couple of faces in the full room turned towards her. "May I help you, miss ?" a man – the owner ? – asked from behind the bar. Kate was lost for words: The people looked like in her nightmare – not those masked monsters, but they all were wearing robes, some of them pointed hats. It looked peaceful though, just so unreal.
"You might show the consideration to shut the door, I've no intention to freeze to death !" an impatient voice said. She turned to see who had spoken and opened her mouth in shock: It was the man of her nightmare, only now his expression wasn't blank but showed a scowl. "I'm so sorry !" Kate whispered, when the glass he was holding shattered into a million pieces.
