I was asleep on Halloween. We had camped out in the Great Hall, as Sirius Black had just tried to break into Gryffindor Tower.
In my dream, Harry Potter and I were riding brooms, linked at our hands. He was smiling, and I was laughing.
The scene dissolved. I was eleven years old again, dying in the Chamber of Secrets. Tom Riddle stood over me. I was screaming at him.
This was the part where I woke up screaming, only to have none other than Severus Snape standing over me.
Oh, you can imagine my reaction.
I recoiled, screaming, as the Hall erupted around me.
"He's back!" Someone cried.
"He can turn into Snape!" A rather dopey first-year screamed.
"It's Sirius Snapey Black!"
