For Kami

Harry could feel a tugging somewhere in his inner mind. "No!" he thought wildly. He couldn't leave, not this time. This nightmare had finally ended, and he knew there would be no more. The tugging became insistent, more of a forceful jerk now.

Harry glanced at Ron and Hermoine and he felt his strength dissolve. He would never see them again. He was sure of it.

Without warning the tugging-turned-jerking yanked him out of his would-be reality.

His eyes opened and he looked up at a cobweb-strewn ceiling. He fumbled for his glasses and put them on, realizing that he was crying.

The cupboard was small and dingy, even smaller now then it was seven years ago, and he felt claustrophobic. His mind raced ahead, thinking, remembering, determined to keep every aspect of his dreams with him forever.

The dreams had started the night of his 11th birthday. He had had one each night since, always progressing. In a way, his dreams were more of a reality to him then his actual circumstances. Surely wizards, ghosts, magical schools, and practically immortal enemies hell-bent on killing him were easier to deal with than the hell he was already in. For seven years the dream had progressed, taking him along for an emotional, inspirational ride. He had been the star of the Quidditch team, the most popular boy in school, and the hero of the entire wizarding world. He had had a girlfriend. And friends. Best friends.

Ginny. Ron. Hermoine. He grieved for their loss as a friend would grieve the death of a friend, even though he knew they had never really existed. None of it had existed.

He stood up shakily and wacked his head on the low ceiling of the broom cupboard. He could hear Aunt Petunia in the kitchen doting over Dudley one minute, then shouting for Harry to "get out here now, boy!" the next.

He tried to comfort himself as he got dressed. He would be 18 in a couple of weeks and free to . . . what exactly? Free to leave, certainly. But he didn't know what he was going to do apart from leaving. Where would he go, what would he do? There was no Hogwarts to "welcome him home". There never had been. All there was, was the fleeting imaginings of a boy who desperately wanted to escape. Wanted to belong. Knowing he never would.