Harry James Potter woke from the bed he called his in the Weasley's home with a start, heart racing. He had been having the strangest dream. The boy had been in potions, Ron on one side, Hermione on the other as was the norm, but something had gone wrong, terribly wrong. Ron had said something and Hermione had responded in an angry manner neither paying much attention to the caldron between them as it began to boil over. Harry had been listening to his friends bicker with vague interest, throwing in a word edge wise every now and again. Well, that is until a loud pop echoed around the three and suddenly the boy who lived had been doused in a thick purple puss as he feel from his stool. A deep breath forced its way past his slightly chapped lips as he forced himself to sit upright. It had seemed so real. He could still feel the sludge as it burnt its way through his flesh, could still smell the pungent order it secreted as it boiled over and could still hear the worried screams…
"Ron." Harry muttered sleepily as he looked to his right where he expected to see his lanky best mate, but instead he was met with a rather large terrarium and a wall full of quidditch,among a few muggle sports posters. Green eye's widened as he continued to look about, the uneasy feeling of displacement falling upon his shoulders. This was not the room he shared with Ron at the Burrow. The warm wooden walls were replaced by cool grey wallpaper, the sleek floors by warm thick carpet and strangest of all were the robes that hung in plain view along the front of what he could only assume to be a horribly messy closet. Slytherin.
Quickly hopping from the warm sheets Harry ran a frazzled hand through his wild hair, eye's searching for his glasses. Spotting them after a bit of trouble, the boy placed the round frames upon his face and blinked as everything came into focus, only growing stranger by the second as his brain caught up with him. Where was he? How did he get here? And why the hell did it smell so strongly of pumpkin pasties and coffee? Maneuvering his way through the piles of laundry that littered the floor around him Harry explored, searching for some sort of clue, but to no avail. All he knew was that whoever lived here liked quidditch, soccer, a few rather attractive models, had a pet something or other that didn't seem to actually be in its cage at the moment, and didn't seem to treat their text books with much regard.
Footsteps sounded from beyond the darkly colored closed door causing the boy to jump. This was bad, very, very bad. No one would take a stranger, even if said stranger was actually kind of known to them just standing in the middle of their bedroom clad only in his knickers well. The Gryffindor's brain thought wildly as he tried to think of a plan, maybe hiding under the bed, or in the closet, but the again the half open window did seem rather inviting. Thankfully he didn't have to make that decision as a soft knock sounded on the door before it was thrust open.
"Harry It's time to get up" a middle aged red head stated, an empty basket of laundry on her hip.
"M-mum?" The brunet sputtered out eye's wide, mouth a gap. Something was most definitely amiss indeed.
"Honestly Harry" Lilly Potter muttered as her emerald eye's scanned the room in disapproval. "do you ever clean?"