I stand by the fireplace and look down at his tired, pale face. "Tell me everything about these dreams, Albus." I tell him. He looks down at his knees and back up at me nervously. "Well, they're all basically the same dream, until the end. It starts with Voldemort standing by a cauldron filled with blood then he takes a cup dips it in the blood and tries to force me to drink it. I shake my head and back away until I am forced up against a gravestone and suddenly these skeleton arms are holding me there. He's laughing a high cackling laugh which chills me to the bone even though it's only a dream... He tries the death spell on me but his wand flies up into the air and lands in my hands. I try the stunning spell, but it just reflects back of him until he is a glowing bright red. I drop the wand and the arms release me. I stumble forwards into Voldemort and he holds me like a vice with his thin bony hands. I kick and I scream but he just picks me up like I weigh no more than a feather and puts me in the cauldron... I then rise up, out of the blood in a cloud of green steam. That is always the same, but when the steam clears it is a different place each time. Depending on where I end up that decides the way I die... In the sea- I drown. In the arctic- I freeze. In a house- it goes up in flames. In the middle of nowhere- I'm kidnapped and killed by strangers." He slowly breaths out. "What does it mean, Dad? Am I in danger?" He questions urgently. I can't answer that because I don't know. Although, one thing's for sure- those dreams mean something. Something that is in my deepest fears. That those dreams are coming from outside of his head.
