He could see two figures, both shrouded in mists. The mists cleared and he could see their faces, one was himself and the other, Draco Malfoy. A flash of light, two women screaming, two men shouting…

"Draco go!"

" Lily take Harry and run!"

Another lightning bolt and four more figures, two women and two men on either side of the boys.

The men moved and shimmered, their dying forms shifting into the faces of their sons. The women disappeared in smoke and the eyes of the boys flashed.

One green.

One silver.

His own image dissolved and the pale form of Malfoy was left alone, the mists around his face shifted and writhed and from them emerged the slim form of another woman.

Her fiery hair shone like a beacon in the fog.

She walked up to Malfoy purposefully and they embraced.

Then they kissed.

His heart felt like it was being torn from his chest. Even in a dream, what he was seeing was causing him more pain then he could have ever imagined possible.

The figures separated, pushing away from each other, not willing to look the other in the eyes and turned, walking in separate directions.

The mists swirling around them changed.

On the right side, the fog thickened and inked itself into darkness, pulsing like the depths of a menacing sea. He could feel it calling him, tempting him with release.

On the left it dissipated, leaving in it's wake a light so blindingly white he thought his heart would burst from the beauty of it and a hopeful feeling rose from is chest like phoenix song.

The two figures chose their paths.

Draco Malfoy turned to the left.

Ginerva Weasley turned to the right.

He watched as the only woman he had ever cared for was caressed by tendrils of that dark substance known as evil. She twisted and danced into the darkness as it filled her, seeking entrance through any means. Smothering her.

He saw a flash of red and a glint of coffee brown eyes as she surrendered herself to the waiting depths no human had ever returned from.

Then she was gone.

He turned and saw the boy he had always hated leaving the mists for that pure whiteness. He never saw him flinch as the flames of that brilliant light licked his hands. Tormenting him with the knowledge that he had to make his amends. The icy eyes of the boy never blinked as he spread his arms wide, welcoming the cleansing flames, never shed a tear as the flesh of his body melted like candle wax.

The flames consumed even the ashes of his bones so great was their heat.

Harry Potter woke up screaming.