The sixth year boys of Gryffindor House; Dean Thomas, Harry Potter, Neville Longbottom, Ron Weasley and Seamus Finnegan by name, were nice and toasty, snoozing in their warm beds.

Actually, not entirely true, as Dean Thomas awoke suddenly, a sudden freezing sensation engulfed his body. Hanging above him, was Harry Potter, a malicious grin on his bespectacled face.

"POTTER!" Dean roared, sitting up. Neville, Ron and Seamus awoke and opened their curtains, staring at the West Ham fan that had vigourously pulled his own open.

"Say what?" Harry asked, pulling on his glasses after he'd opened his own curtains. 'This had better be worth it. 'Harry thought to himself. Harry had been dreaming. It was a good dream. It had a dragon in it. Which was Harry himself. It was cool to be an animagus, even if it was only a dream.

"Potter – what are you…you were just above me - you just soaked me!" Dean shivered, thoroughly confused.

Neville and Ron looked at Dean as though he was losing his marbles, adding to his tally of 45 gobstones he'd lost over the course of their time at Hogwarts.

Harry was also extremely confused; it was illogical that he, as a dragon, would be wetting Dean (a marked rung lower on the ladder of 'Painful Things to do to Dean Thomas' than 'Roasting him with Fiery Dragonbreath' was; as Dream Harry had been doing to a rather painfully confused Dream Dean.

Harry took a moment to bask in the memory, then noticing Dean's rather piercing gaze, yawned a little to cover his perceived embarrassment and asked "Dean, whutchu un about?"

Dean patted himself down. "I felt so cold, like a bucket of icy water had been dumped on me; I awoke to see you hanging above me."

"What would Harry be doing that for?" Ron asked with a bemused expression.

"You must've been having a nightmare." Seamus added.

"Might've been a ghost." Neville mumbled, but no one really heard him.

"Yeah, yeah, you're right guys. Sorry. Goodnight." Dean said sheepishly, closing his curtains.

"Goodnight." All the boys replied, retiring back to the land of Forty Winks.

Harry drifted off, and sadly, he was not a dragon. Happily, he now lived in the land of nooneisdeanthomas, where no one liked West Ham United, and the most eligible bachelorette was just that. (But not for long, for Harry was planning to address that most unappealing of situations.)

"HARRY!" Someone yelled, and Harry awoke, reminded rather unpleasantly of Dean's continued existence.

"What?" Harry asked; he hadn't recognised the voice. In his defence, the dream was going along a very nice path…

"Wondering when you were going to wake up." A voice replied as Dean's curtains opened up. "Interrupted something important, didn't I?" Harry could just see the victorious smirk that went along with that voice; Harry had a sinking feeling that Snape had been teaching Dean Legillimency.

"By the way, Dean; sorry about earlier. Didn't mean to freeze you like that."

Suddenly the voice whispered in Harry's ear. "Just kidding; it was totally intentional."

Harry turned his head, but in the darkness he couldn't make out anything more than a faint silhouette.

"Who's there, Harry?" Neville asked, because Harry was the Danger Magnet of the group, leading on points by a huge margin ahead of Ron, and it was logical that Danger would go to Harry first.

But Harry never answered, because the strange apparition leapt off the bed and announced his name rather suavely.

"Potter. James Potter."