Disclaimer: I wish owned Harry Potter / That is what I'd really like to own / Cause if I owned Harry Potter / Right now I'd be sitting on my throne! As you may have noticed, I do not own Harry Potter, gee what a shame. Oh well, at least I own this story and its plot! That's good enough for me!
"Tick-tock, tick-tock." Harry Potter could hear the sound of a single metronome somewhere in the distance but he could not see it. In fact, he couldn't see anything. He was just standing there in the darkness, the sound of the lonely metronome beating steadily in his ear. He gazed around him but could see nothing but pitch black on all sides. He took a cautious step forwards and then stopped. Now he could hear footsteps approaching and a figure emerged from the darkness. It was Hermione Granger and she was spattered with blood. She did not look happy and a more thorough examination of her, told Harry, her neck had been slashed, she was dead.
"Look, look at me Harry," the corpse said. "You see what you have done? You see what you have caused? This is all your fault Harry, all your fault." The figure began to fade almost as suddenly as it had come, giving him no time to respond. At that moment, he could hear another set of footsteps, now approaching him from behind. He whirled around to find another figure, that of his best mate Ron Weasley, walking toward him. He too, was spattered with blood and Harry knew at once that Ron, like Hermione, was a corpse.
"She's right Harry," the corpse of Ron said, "It is all your fault. If you hadn't befriended us, you with all the dangers of your past, we never would've ended up this way. It's your fault, your fault!" he shouted pointing at Harry. Again, before Harry could protest, the figure was gone just as suddenly as it had come. And now, Harry turned his head, in light of the sound of yet another set of footsteps. These, turned out to belong to the girl he loved more than any other, Ginny Weasley. And like her brother and friend before her, Ginny was spattered with blood
"Why did you drag me into this Harry? Why did you do such a thing? I gave up on you and then, at the worst time possible, you came after me! I will never forgive you for this Harry Potter, never!" In a blink of an eye, Ginny too, was gone. Now Harry heard a fourth set of footsteps. These, however, sounded as though the person were walking with a spring to their step and Harry turned his head, fearing the worse, to find Draco Malfoy marching toward him, his head held high. He, unlike the other three, was not covered in blood and he looked merely pleased.
"Good job Potter," he said in a upbeat tone. "You've brought the death to those he deserve it. I merit you for that." Then, not bothering to give Harry a chance to answer, Draco opened his mouth wide and began to laugh. It was a wicked laugh, much unlike anything Harry had ever heard before and he cowered away, placing his hands over his ears and crying out in agony.
"NOOOOOOO!" Harry screamed, sitting bolt upright in bed. He blinked a few times and reached over to the night stand for his glasses. Putting them on, he glanced around the room. He wasn't standing in eternal darkness, he was in his four poster in Gryffindor Tower and every single one of his dorm mates was now sitting up in bed staring at him, looks of utter shock upon there faces. He knew his yell had woken them all up and he suddenly felt very stupid. A hand flew up to the lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead as he suddenly realized it was again seering with an unbelievable pain.
"You alright mate?" asked Ron, in a rather sleepy voice. Harry watched him for a moment as Ron let out a large yawn and stretched. Still, sleepy or not, Harry could tell that Ron was concerned about him. However, he didn't dare tell him about the dream he had been having. What would Ron say if he told him he had just had a dream in which Ron's dead corpse had approached him and blamed him for his death? No, there was absolutely no way he was going to tell him, so he merely nodded and waved the matter away. Ron looked reluctant to stop talking about it but he didn't press the matter; Harry knew he was just too tired. Instead, Ron nodded back to him, turned over and proceeded to fall back to sleep. Only moments later did his quiet steady breathing fill the big dormitory once more.
Harry turned and looked at his other three dorm mates, Neville Longbottom, Seamus Finnigan, and Dean Thomas. They were all staring at him with worried expressions on their faces and although it was dark, Harry saw Dean and Seamus glance at each other uncertainly. Neville was fiddling with his blankets and glancing at Harry nervously. "What?" Harry asked them.
"Well, we were just wondering," Seamus began. He looked over at Dean for support.
"If you really were okay?" Dean finished. Harry looked at them for a moment before slowly nodding his head. Like Ron, the two looked unconvinced but seemed to think better of questioning him any further. They two turned over and went back to sleep. Harry turned his focus on Neville who was still nervously fiddling with his blankets. He stared at him for a long time until finally, Neville gave a sudden yelped and burried himself in his blankets. Harry just sat there in silence, thinking about what had just happened.
After what seemed like hours of thought, he finally decided that the dream could not be ignored, he had to tell someone and that someone could not be Ron, Hermione, or Ginny. As for Malfoy, well, Harry didn't care if he found out about the dream or not. In fact, he was rather enjoying picturing the look on Malfoy's face when he found out that he had actually praised Harry for something, even if it was only in a dream.
But Harry didn't need to tell Malfoy, he needed to tell one of the teachers. The question was, who was he going to tell? Dumbledore was gone now and the only way Harry would be able to talk to him at all, would be to get into the Headmistress's office and prod awake the protrait of the former Headmaster. There was no way he was going to attempt to break into McGonagall's office at this time of night, especially not with her in there. No, the only thing he could do was talk to McGonagall herself and he supposed that, would have to wait until morning.
Sighing heavily to himself, Harry lay back on his pillows, staring up at the curtains to his four poster wondering to himself what the dream had possibly meant. He would have the whole rest of the night to debate it. After all, there was no way he was going to get anymore sleep now, the dream had scared him into a sense of which he was wide awake, and he felt that he would stay that way for all eternity. So, he just lay there, staring up at the curtains and thinking about what he had just dreamt. Could it be he was afraid that he was leading his two best friends and the girl he loved into a trap? He felt certain that was a very plausible idea. But why he would be dreaming something like that just now and not a long time ago, he didn't know. It may have been because they were in grave danger. Little did he know, he was going to be having a series of these dreams, each one different and perhaps not having a message that was clear but he would make a promise to himself that no matter what, none of these dark dreams was going to become true and he, Harry, was going to make sure of that. This dream was, only step one.
A/N: So what do you all think of the first chappie? This is another of my, "Just start writing and see what kind of plot-line unfolds" stories. I almost never get plot-bunnies for anything until after I start writing it. Anyway, please R&R. Mind you all, I'm falling asleep even as I write this, so if there are a lot of typos, it's because I keep drifting off. I'm going to bed once I've submitted this chappie for validation.