Chapter 6
The evening sun sank slowly over the tall towers of Hogwarts. The dark clouds of the day still hung low over the land. Soft rain covered the grounds creating small streams which flowed down towards the lake. Despite the downpour, a single man could be found walking along the various paths outside. Hands clasped behind his back. Long white hair, wet from the rain, clung to his back. Behind the half-moon spectacles, Dumbledore's intense blue eyes stared ahead at everything and nothing in particular. The world around was quiet, save for the constant hum of the rain, creating a sense of wrongness. All other noises were effectively dampened by the unnatural weather.
A flash of light to his right made him stop. Deep within the Forbidden Forest something shimmered, but even before he could turn the light vanished. With a shake of his head, he kept walking. He was getting old and he knew it. Since being attacked on Friday, even the normal loud behaviour of students caused his heart to miss a beat. A house elf, who had been serving him for years, had him sending curses this morning. The forest, filled with all kinds of magical creatures, would make him jumpy considering it all. To settle his nerves, he reminded himself of all the oddities with the Forest.
He continued walking along the path despite his rapidly beating heart. Each step, and each cool breeze against his face made him relax more. In time his heart began to settle and the tension within began to ease. Yet, as he walked he could still vividly remember the duel he fought with the boy, Rand Damodred. There were so many unanswered questions. So much he did not understand.
The whole time during the fight, he'd felt so overwhelmed. The sheer power rolling of the boy was immense. Despite it, each attack had been fended off. Dumbledore gripped the wand in his pocket tightly and smiled. The Elder Wand truly deserved to be called the master of all wands. A shiver ran up and down his spine. The wand alone had saved him. The thought discomforted him. A man did not like having to rely on objects for power.
Thinking about magical items, he instinctively reached out to touch the ring on his finger. Within it lay the Resurrection Stone, the second Hallow. A deep frown formed on his forehead. He wanted the third Hallow – the Cloak. Why had he been so short sighted as to return it to Harry? Now it was missing. He knew the Weasleys were lying when they told him they did not know where the cloak was hidden. Respect for them alone kept him from prying into their minds for answers. Fingering the ring he thought better of the decision. With a mad man running around wielding immense power, Dumbledore might need the extra strength of all three Hallows.
The Hallows brought with them a troubling reminder that Harry was not with them any more. The boy destined to save the land from Voldemort was no more. A bench, sheltered from the rain by an overhanging tree, provided a place for him to sit and ponder the life of Harry. So many sacrifices were made in his name. Rather, they were made in the name of a prophecy. Lives were altered then shattered, people forgotten that should have been remembered, futures erased that could have shone brightly.
His head dropped and his eyes closed. Time had passed so erratically since the boy's vanishing. He would be a seventh year student. June would have seen him come of age. Dumbledore sat upright with a jerk. How could he have forgotten?
HGHGHG
Professor McGonagall marched up and down the crowded corridors of the school. Students always found ways for her to be busy. Tonight, however, her mind was not on the students. She felt tense, her stomach all in knots. Every few paces, a quick glance over her shoulder eased her fear that a red haired boy did not lurk in some shadow.
Thankfully, Ron would not return to Hogwarts for a few days yet, his hair had been too similar to Rand's. With Ginevra missing Minerva had pushed Ron to go home to be with his family. Hermione, begging, had been allowed to go as well. Minerva felt her throat constrict slightly. What were those people going to go through next? Harry disappeared two years ago and now someone took Ginevra as well. The significance of her being Harry's girlfriend had not gone unnoticed by Minerva when the young girl disappeared. Her being targeted had to be linked to Harry, of that she was sure. Why her, and not Ron or Hermione? Why not all three? The reason, however, lay beyond her grasp.
A soaking wet and pale Dumbledore strode into the entrance hall. The sudden appearance of the Headmaster frightened her. Wide eyes behind his spectacles showed she was not the only one jumping at shadows. Despite her shock, she made no external show that she'd been affected.
"Good Evening, Albus," she greeted. With the words out her mouth, she felt safe in knowing the great Albus Dumbledore was still with them and in the school.
"Evening, Minerva," came his reply. Before more could be said he brushed past her towards the Great Hall. "Really starving tonight," he muttered under his breath.
She followed and managed to nudge him into a corner. "Have you heard anything more?" she asked.
He shook his head. "I'm afraid not."
The sparkle, always so prominent in his gaze, seemed lost. "What is it you're not telling me, Albus?"
He exhaled slowly, while Snape passed them by looking unusually intent on getting to his dinner. His growing cheerfulness worried Minerva. When that greasy-haired man smiled something was horribly wrong. She could, however, find no fault in his actions of the past few days.
Dumbledore interrupted her ponderings. "I forgot about a person. A girl I entrusted to another's care."
"And who might this girl be?" She questioned harshly. "Should she be in Hogwarts?" He nodded ashamedly and almost recoiled at her glare. "Then she should have gotten a letter."
She would not have believed it possible, but he looked even more guilty. "I removed her from the list when she was born."
"Albus!" It almost came out as a shout, but she managed to keep her voice low.
"For that I'm not sorry. For not doing anything since then, I am."
He left before she could make another reply. Glancing at his retreating back, she shook her head. The man had been very out of sorts the last few days, his mood sombre, his temper short, and his eyes held a tinge of darkness to them. This girl might have something to do with that.
She began to walk towards the staff table. Despite the mood swings, the old Albus still lurked beneath the surface. Like the gloomy weather outside, she could only wish normality would return, and quickly.
Deciding the students could get themselves to the Great Hall for once in their lives, she ignored the milling throng of children outside. Just thinking about all the troubles made her want a warm cup of tea. A small part of her wished it would take away the troubles in the world.
"Thinking a lot today?" She asked Dumbledore after sitting down next to him. The man still did not look any better. The rain water still dripping from his wet beard did not help his appearance. Frustrated she took out her wand and dried him.
He smiled weakly. "I am afraid I have. I fear there is much that I've forgotten and still more which needs to be learned."
She almost huffed in annoyance when Dumbledore did not elaborate, nor thank her for drying him. Being kept in the dark did not sit well with her. "Any progress with the boy?"
"No, he remains as much of a mystery as the day he arrived. In fact, further revelations just made him more of an enigma." The words barely left his mouth before Dumbledore started to pick at his food. Despite his weariness and pale expression, he could not eat. "The boy just vanished, along with the young Miss Weasley."
"What does Molly have to say?" Minerva asked. "I would have thought her all over you."
He looked up wanly. "It really is odd that she hasn't come storming into my office yet." He glanced out over the crowded hall. "She barely blinked when I informed her."
It was unlike Molly, but who was Minerva to judge the actions of a mother. "Perhaps it is just the shock."
"Perhaps," he agreed, still poking his food with a fork.
"You really should try and eat something, Albus. You barely touched your dinner last night."
"I do not need your advice!" he snapped and immediately his face softened. "I'm sorry, Minerva. I seem to be all on edge these days."
"I understand, Albus," she replied, placing a soothing hand on his arm. "We are all here for you. It might take time, but things will become clearer."
"Thank you," he whispered. "Sometimes, I wish it were now, but if age taught me one thing, then it is that things develop at their own pace." His expression brightened slightly and he began to eat the meal the house elves had prepared. The warm food must have worked wonders because by the time he finished he was smiling, even if it was barely visible.
The students within the hall seemed oblivious to the growing tension amongst the staff. The events of Friday, though not forgotten, were already playing second fiddle to the students' personal problems. Who liked who? He flirted with her while she kissed his friend. The next potions essay. The list of their petty problems had always been long, and at this moment in time Minerva had enough on her plate.
A cold wind gusted into the hall. Her eyes glanced up to find the large doors of the Great Hall and school entrance open. In the middle of it all stood a youngish man, about thirty. Black hair framed a pale face and dark blue, almost black eyes stared towards them. A grin was plastered on the smooth boyish good looking face.
"Professor Dumbledore," the man called out. An instant later he thrust out his hand. Something felt odd, the air warped and grew dim. Then the world went dark. The shouts of various students echoed in her mind as she felt herself go limp. Then there was nothing except blackness.
Her eyes blinked. Light filtered through from the enchanted ceiling. She remembered a strange dream about a man. Her eyes blinked open. Consciousness came slowly. The dull throb in her ears lessoned. Gradually the sound of crying became distinct. Pulling on the table she managed to look out across the hall. All around students cowered in fear. Some cried, while others stood wide eyed. She forced herself to stand on shaky legs. The world rotated and blurred with each movement. Growing nauseous, she closed her eyes. They remained so until a steadying hand on the table managed to settle her. Slowly she opened them again. It took time for the bright lights of the hall not to be blinding. Eventually her eyes recovered only to fall upon the still form of Dumbledore lying face down on the floor in the middle of the hall.
"Pomfrey!" she yelled instinctively. "Someone get Madame Pomfrey!" Anxiously she glanced around. The splitting headache forgotten in her panic. None of the other staff members, apart from Snape, were moving. He stood still, eyes staring ahead in awe and she thought him stunned.
Some students glanced up at her. Their innocent faces glazed over in horror and confusion. One boy at least nodded and went running. Moving as if in slow motion, McGonagall made her way round the table and towards Dumbledore.
Expecting the worst, she gingerly turned him over. Weak, tired eyes stared up at her, his breathing shallow and weak. A cry of joy erupted from her throat, which quickly turned into a sob. "Hold on, Albus," she pleaded as she gently laid his head on her lap. Her fingers worked through his long grey hair. Albus coughed. His body convulsed in pain. Composing herself, she gave his body a thorough scan. She could see no external injuries and no blood covered the floor. "Where does it hurt?" She asked, hoping a question like that could aid the nurse once she arrived. The headmaster did not reply, instead his weak eyes closed while his breathing slowed
A soft hand touched her shoulder. "Move aside, Minerva," the gentle, yet concerned, voice of Madame Pomfrey commanded.
"He's hurt," Minerva replied refusing to move.
"I need you to let me treat him," the nurse urged again, this time more forcefully.
With a jerking nod, McGonagall moved out from under Dumbledore. At once Madame Pomfrey began to inspect the Headmaster. Her wand moved about rapidly with precise movements. With each passing scan her face turned more haggard. Sweat began to move down her forehead, and small beads threatened to drip onto the floor.
"Can anything be done?" McGonagall asked the nurse. Dumbledore gave a weak cough. His eyelids fluttered, but refused to open fully. A lacklustre blue was all they could see.
"I'm not sure," she replied sitting upright. "He's hurt, but I cannot..."
The main door flew open. McGonagall stood erect before turning to the door. This time her wand was in her hand. She moved into her role as Deputy Head of the school since Dumbledore lay unconscious. The hall grew still. Her own eyes narrowed in suspicion and her hand tightened around the wand.
By the door stood seven people. Two were easily distinguishable, Hermione and Ron. The other four wore cloaks with hoods hiding their faces. Two men stood at the front. The one wore a dark black cloak with faint slivers of silver that could not be made out. The other had a cloak of plain black. To rear stood two women. The taller of the two wore a deep green dress, the other one a dark blue that verged on black. Fear gripped McGonagall. When would the school stop being attacked? Yet, none of their postures seemed threatening, though she got the distinct impression they were dangerous.
"What happened?" A deep, yet young, voice asked. It came from the man in front. His cloak, embroidered with what appeared to be silver threads, glistened in the light of the candles illuminating the hall. Despite his hidden face, he held an aura of command. She felt drawn, but the force of his presence made her glance away from him to the others. Slowly, her gaze settled on him again. Her tension eased. There was an aura of rightness about him, almost soothing.
As she looked into the shadow which was his face, she felt the urge to answer him truthfully. "A man attacked the staff and Dumbledore. For some reason the students were left unharmed," she answered instinctively.
The man in command took a step forward and asked in a concerned voice. "Did the attacker take anything?"
"My wand... wand..." Dumbledore whispered barely loud enough for McGonagall to hear.
"What did the Headmaster say?" The question came from beside the man.
McGonagall faced her, only to notice the intricate details of lilies on the dark green dress. Like the others, the hood hid her face in shadow. Minerva shook her head slightly in confusion. There should be more than enough light in the hall for the faces to be visible. Minerva glanced at her, but remained silent.
"What did he say?" the man commanded.
McGonagal was snapped out her dazed trance by the sound of his voice. "He said that the man took his wand."
All the others seemed taken aback. That was except for the man with the silver threaded cloak. "I expected as much when I saw him lying there." He nodded. Walking closer he gently brushed past McGonagall. Controlled by her fears, she could not find the courage to point her wand at the man. Even if she did, she had the feeling it would be of no use.
He knelt down beside Dumbledore. "Leave us," he said softly to Madame Pomfrey who still worked on the Headmaster. She glanced at him, her eyes wide, but she moved aside a little.
"I am sorry for everything, old friend," the man whispered. The gentleness and familiarity in his voice surprised Minerva. Slowly, he placed his hand onto Dumbledore's cheeks. "Hang in there, Albus, stay with me." The seconds ticked by slowly. To her, it felt as if the whole world held its breath. A loud gasp rang out throughout the hall. Bright blue eyes stared up at the ceiling. Dumbledore's hand shot up into the air and closed around the cloak of the man. "Rest, Albus. You need rest, friend."
Dumbledore's lips moved, but the words did not reach her. Then his eyes closed slowly and the man laid him back down gently. "He is sleeping," he said to Madam Pomfrey. The man removed Albus's hand from his cloak, but held on to it for a while. He appeared deep in thought, but he eventually stood and walked back to his companions.
"Who are you?" McGonagall finally found the voice to ask.
He placed a hand on the green robed woman's shoulder and then continued walking. The group followed him, including Ron and Hermione. They turned in the direction of the Headmaster's office. McGonagall followed.
"Do you know these people?" The distinctive voice of Severus Snape asked. She had not heard him joining her. "These are dangerous people, Minerva."
"And that means?" Her voice was flat. She had already guessed that obvious fact.
"Be careful," he sneered. She almost missed a step.
"Where will you be?" she asked sharply.
"Around." Then he disappeared down an adjacent corridor. For a moment she paused on the spot where he had stood. Severus had been frightened, an emotion that she could never recall associating with him. Feeling more exposed than ever she began to follow the group again. When she rounded the final corner to the Headmaster's office the group already stood waiting.
She glided past them, trying to keep her head up. The gargoyles moved aside, recognizing her as Headmistress while Dumbledore was unconscious.
Rounding the desk inside the office she sat down in Dumbledore's chair. "Please sit down," she motioned at the chairs facing the desk.
"That won't be necessary, Professor," the man replied.
"May I ask who you are and what you are doing at Hogwarts?" Her gaze left the cloaked figures, only to settle on Ron and then Hermione. She still could not fathom their being part of the group. The pair fidgeted nervously in the corner. McGonagall gripped her wand firmly, ready to strike in a moment's notice.
A burst of flame erupted and Albus's phoenix settled down on its stand. It sung a soft, calming tune. All her fears slowly dispersed. The man in the black cloak moved towards the phoenix, who allowed him to stroke its feathers.
Again she was struck by the familiarity with which this man moved about. That meant he had to be a former student, but who?
The phoenix sent a cry of pure joy throughout the office before disappearing in a burst of flame. The man laughed and pulled back the hood from his cloak. "It's been a long time, Professor."
As the hood slipped back she noticed the raven black hair. Then the green eyes. Her eyes flicked to his forehead, she inhaled. The scar was gone, but the face... "Harry?" she mouthed out softly. Turning to Hermione she didn't even have to ask before the girl replied.
"It's him and..." she pointed at the girl with the green dress. She pulled back the hood of her cloak. With a gentle shake of her head, the long red tendrils of hair, only belonging to a Weasley, fell across her shoulders.
"Ginevra?" She gaped. "But you left with..." her words tapered off. Turning to Harry she asked, "Then you were?"
"I was Rand," Harry answered. "But before you think ill of me, Professor, I never intended to attack Dumbledore. That was an unfortunate incident."
She leaned back in her chair. Things were happening too fast. "Will Dumbledore be alright?"
"He'll live. The healing drained him and all he needs now is some rest." Ginevra replied.
McGonagall froze. The girl's voice sounded different. Only three days ago she had spoken to the youngest Weasley, a girl of sixteen. This Ginevra sounded closer to thirty. Looking at her closer, she noticed an older yet smoother face. Harry too, she realized, appeared older than the seventeen he should've been.
"Who are your friends?" Minerva asked, trying to break the silence within the office.
"Moiraine you have met before. She really is Moiraine Damodred. This man is Mark Arrel." Finally Harry turned to Ginny. "And this is my wife, Ginny Potter."
"Wife?" She questioned. "But she's only sixteen, Harry."
"I'm twenty-three, Professor," Ginny answered, stepping forward to take Harry's hand. "We've been married for nearly five years."
Her mind hit a wall and she fell back into her chair. "I'm sure that is one hell of tale!" She breathed out.
"Professor!" Hermione gasped.
McGonagall sat straighter. "Don't tell me you've never said something like that before, Miss Granger."
Hermione looked to be saying no, but the she bit down on her lip and blushed.
She focused back on Harry. "How badly was Dumbledore injured?"
Harry replied slowly. "The internal injuries were serious, but I managed to heal everything." His eyes never left hers. She knew then that he was not lying about his age. In fact she would have believed him older had this been the first time she met him. "I will not lie, however. His body is weak and it takes much energy for a man to be healed."
She nodded in understanding.
Moiraine stepped forward and whispered into Harry's ear. He nodded. Moiraine said no more, just gave McGonagall a faint nod and then left the office.
"I can never keep her in still." Harry laughed when Moiraine had left the office.
Hermione crossed her arms. "Still don't trust her," she huffed looking at the door.
"Oh, never mind her. She's a good person deep down. Cool as ice and hard as stone," Harry replied.
"Still, what's up with her?" Ron asked, perhaps sharing Hermione's view.
Ginevra cut-in before Harry could reply. "This is not really the time."
The question did pique McGonagall's interest. She'd shared a similar opinion of the woman.
Harry grinned, shaking his head. "Moiraine Damodred, the youngest daughter in a powerful family that ruled Cairhien. When she was about as old as you, Hermione, she was sent to the White Tower to become and Aes Sedai. While there a war broke out and a very old Aes Sedai made a foretelling…"
Hermione snorted in disbelief. "Careful," Harry smiled. "Ginny here is a dreamer. She sees the future…"
"More like visions than seeing," Ginevra interrupted.
Similar to Harry, McGonagall could see the age and some wisdom in the woman's eyes, but her face was still very smooth. The way Ginevra spoke told McGonagall she had seen evil even darker than the diary.
"Images that tell a story instead of just showing." Her eyes flicked tellingly at Harry.
"In any case," Harry said, placing a hand on his wife's shoulder. "The foretelling mentioned the birth of the Dragon Reborn, the man prophesied to both save and break the world."
"How's that possible?" Hermione said rolling her eyes.
"Oh, believe me, not only is it possible, it happened." Harry said in a low voice. "Moiraine was then tasked with finding this child. She searched in secret for twenty years. The threat of death never far away if her mission were discovered."
Hermione interjected again. "Why search in secret? Surely if more people helped then he would have been found faster."
Ginevra gave her a flat look. "Honestly, Hermione, for all your brains you can be thick at times. Do you honestly think a man so powerful, a man prophesied to break the world would be left alone? Every darkfriend..." She paused at the confused expressions. "They're like Death Eaters, just a lot more and with much more power." The group nodded in understanding. "Darkfriends hunted for him as well. It was a race, one that would reward only the winner. Understand?"
"Understand," the girl replied.
"Well, she found him and fought alongside him till the war's end." Harry said firmly. "There are few people alive with as much courage or determination to destroy evil."
"Then why is she so odd?" Ron asked. "Ginny's Aes Sedai and not half as bad."
"Perhaps it came from the years living in danger. Perhaps it is because she is Aes Sedai. It might also be that she nearly became queen of Cairhien."
"Queen?" Hermione gasped.
"The White Tower wanted her to rule her homeland. She was the prize Accepted, the girl they would one day place on the throne."
"She didn't want that?" Ron said in part awe, part disgust.
"No," Harry replied. "She used her search for the Dragon Reborn to get as far from the Tower as possible."
The room fell silent until McGonagall spoke up. "What are you doing in Hogwarts then?"
"It seems that what we came for is now irrelevant," Harry laughed. "Though I could always use the Headmaster's advice."
McGonagall raised an eyebrow, waiting for more. "I suppose you will be wanting rooms to stay in?" she asked Harry. "The common room is probably a bit young and not quite suited to married life."
"That would be kind of you, Professor," Ginny said.
"Then I best get you to your room. Or would you prefer some dinner first?"
"That won't be necessary. We just came from my mother-in-law." Harry replied with a broad grin.
McGonagall laughed knowing Molly all too well. "In that case I'll take you straight to your rooms."
Her step had not been so light in years, as she led them through the halls of the school. Harry Potter was back.
HGHGHG
The pale moon, barely visible through the thin veil of clouds, filled the Hospital Wing with its soft light. Harry sat alone alongside the bed of Dumbledore. Ginny was already asleep in their new room. Despite all the exploring he had done at the school he still managed to be amazed by the secrets locked away within the walls of this old structure. Barely a few strides from Gryffindor Tower, in the corridor he had walked countless time before, there was a door and behind it there were guest rooms. He would have to count them sometime.
The old Headmaster lay in a drug induced sleep. Madame Pomfrey, by her haggard looks, must have worked frantically. Harry felt sorry for the nurse. He'd healed Dumbledore and still she worked to help. All the man needed now was sleep. Madame Pomfrey cared deeply for each student and staff member alike. She prided herself in their well-being.
With the two other people in the room asleep, Harry stretched out his hand to place it on Dumbledore's bed. He inched his chair closer. The faint breathing of Dumbledore was the only sound discernible. Harry studied Dumbledore. The man gave a slight cough, and Harry gripped his hand. Beneath it he felt a ring. Curious, he released his grip and turned Dumbledore's palm in order to study it. Despite the darkness, Harry could tell the ring was ancient.
Seizing saidin, he created a small ball of pure light. Reaching out he touched the ring before turning it to the light, the luminance flickered then dimmed. On the surface a small sign appeared faintly, before vanishing. He increased the light, to compensate for the darkness. With narrowed eyes, he inspected it closer. The faint lines began to reappear. A triangle formed, he gasped and dropped Dumbledore's hand. The light flared brilliantly where it hung suspended.
Harry's gaze swept from the light to the ring. Carefully, he reached out to Dumbledore's hand to turn it back to the light. This time he did not touch the object. In the radiant light he clearly saw the sign which had been on his cloak and in the book – the Deathly Hallows. He tensed and indecision gripped him. What should he do with the ring? Or more precisely the Resurrection Stone, he was sure it had to be the third Hallow.
Looking at the gaunt face asleep on the pillow, Harry knew what needed to be done. Carefully he removed the ring and tried to place it in his pocket. It grew warm at his touch. Something called softly too him. With a jerk he dropped it into his cloak. He would have to keep an eye over the ring till he could decide what needed to be done with it. The sensation lingered in his memory. What was the stone?
Dumbledore breathed deeply. Removed from the taint of the ring, the Headmaster already began to look healthier. Harry smiled, hopefully a few more days rest and the Dumbledore of old would be back. Harry did not know if he was up to healing the taint. With a pat on the man's shoulder, Harry left the Hospital Wing. Two of the Hallows were now in his possession. The wand was all he required now.
Reaching their room, he hid the ring inside the sealed trunk, which already contained the Invisibility Cloak. Even before he could close the lid he felt tainted by the ring's touch.
"Not thinking of using the Cloak, are you?" Ginny asked from the bed. She had sat up and was busy studying him.
Harry laughed warmly. "No, and before you ask, I removed a certain ring from Dumbledore a few moments ago."
She frowned thoughtfully. "Why would you take a ring from him? You wanted the Elder Wand, not his jewellery."
Harry began to undress as he spoke. "What if I were to tell you that it was not the ring I wanted?" Folding his clothes neatly, for during their years of marriage Ginny had forced some neatness onto him, he slipped under the covers next to her.
"You're cold," she replied with a shiver while moving closer. He did not reply, instead he gazed up at the ceiling. "So what was it you wanted if not the ring?"
"A small stone," he grinned, despite the nausea he felt.
"The Resurrection Stone!" She gasped loudly. "You really have the third Hallow?"
"Yes, we have in our possession at this very moment two of the three Hallows." He grimaced. "If only we could have the one with the real power."
"What makes you think the two we have don't have any powers?" She asked, placing her arm onto his chest and resting her head on his shoulder. He breathed in her warmth, the foulness receded at her touch.
"The story," he sighed. "The cloak only hides a user and the stone only places a dead person into a sort of limbo."
"And none of that seems too dangerous," she yawned. "Seems is a dangerous word, Harry. You should know that."
"Yes," he whispered, kissing her forehead. "That is why they are locked safely away in my trunk."
"And there they will stay," she declared.
The minutes ticked by and soon her breathing changed. Her body relaxed against his, but sleep could not come. Every few minutes he found himself staring at the trunk. He longed to touch the cloak, to walk under its wall of nothing and to hide from the world. He knew, however, such thoughts were idiotic. With a disgruntled moan he closed his eyes, shielded his dreams and fell asleep.
HGHGHG
Ginny moved about in an empty Hogwarts. Despite walking through the dorms of every House, she had yet to see a student. This did not surprise Ginny, as she knew her surroundings to be less physical, but just as real as the waking world. Tel'aran'rhoid, the dream world, held as many, if not more dangers than the place most people knew.
Despite her strength in the One Power, an ordinary man or woman could overpower her here. The only sources of strength in this place were will-power, belief and the intrinsic knowledge that you were in the world of dreams.
Finding nothing of interest in the Gryffindor Common room she shifted. The world changed and the Great Hall formed around her or she in it. The place was eerily well lit and yet not. Another oddity of tel'aran'rhiod, there was always light and the weather acted strangely.
She had no real goal for the night. This being her first time in the dream world this side of the portal. This was a test of sort, akin to stretching her legs. A few things bugged her and some things she wanted to try.
Feeling a bit more confidant now that she'd spent some time walking around, she took a deep breath and stepped into Grimmauld Place. Like Hogwarts, the inside of the house was lit. It definitely felt better than in normal life, there were no dark corners to depress her.
Then she saw what she suspected. Sitting on the couch, by himself, was Remus. She smiled, but her senses went on high alert. She was not sure if he knew where he was, but in probability he did not. He had never discussed a fantasy dream world. Then again, he might not want people think him more insane than they already did.
"You comfortable?" Ginny asked.
Remus gave a slight jerk in surprise. His face clouded over in confusion as if he were waiting for something. "I, yes," he answered finally when the something did not occur.
"Didn't expect to find someone in your special place, did you?"
"Well, no," he answered with a shake of his head. "People have been known to flash before me only to vanish within seconds."
She took a step closer. "And you've never spoken to anyone, have you?"
Remus fidgeted uncomfortably. This was of course his retreat from the world. "No, can't remember having a conversation."
Ginny moved over to the one couch and sat. "I hope you're careful here."
"Careful? Why would I need to be careful in the only place where I feel safe?"
"Because, Remus, you're not safe here. This world..." She twirled her hand around to emphasise her words. "Holds more dangers than you could possibly imagine."
"Like what?"
Ginny took a deep unseen breath. She had hoped to see Remus, but not on the first night. Deciding to go with her instincts, she imagined him bound in rope.
"What, Ginny!" He cried out as the thick ropes wrapped themselves around his chest, pinning his arms to his side. "Stop using this… this… One Power stuff on me."
"I've not touched saidar." She said getting to her feet to stand before him. "I merely visualized you bound. This is what we call tel'aran'rhoid, the world of dreams as you've no doubt noticed yourself, since you remember going to sleep each time. In here it is not strength in magic that makes you strong, but your strength of mind."
He looked confused. "Think away the ropes." She continued.
A few minutes later the ropes began to dissolve slowly. Though Ginny was not trying to hold them in place, it still took Remus a long time.
"I will see you tomorrow," she said with a grin as his clothes turned a bright pink.
Then the world changed as she slipped into the world that lay between reality and tel'aran'rhiod. Millions of lights shone, to her it felt like being in space and all she could see were stars. Some disappeared only to be replaced by others. The lights were not suns, rather each was a person's dream, and around her there shone billions.
Instinctively she moved to one. A familiar light, one she had visited every night for years. Unlike a normal man's dream this one appeared murky almost cloud like. She walked around the bubble that surrounded this dream, Harry's dream. She pried gently, but the barrier was unmovable. She crossed her arms in frustration and respect.
Harry was just too bloody powerful.
She smiled as she slipped into her own dreams. Harry was safe for another night.
HGHGHG
The day was nearing its end by the time Kate finished her last lecture of the day. Most of the students around her were talking to their friends or scurrying off to their dorms or sports. Like so many times before, she felt alone in a world that had no room for her.
She shifted her heavy bag before sitting down on a bench. The sounds of laughter echoed about around her. The year had barely started and students still seemed carefree, or at least more carefree than usual. With a sigh she pulled out a textbook on politics from her bag and began to read. The flat would be too claustrophobic for her now. The cloud covered sky above and fresh air around were what she needed.
The minutes turned to an hour. The pages of the book kept turning. Lost in a world of thought time only caught up when it became too dark to read the small letters on the pages. Grudgingly, she packed her textbook and notes away and began to make her way back to the flat.
It was a decent walk, fifteen minutes when she felt full of life. Tired and lifeless, it would take her closer to thirty. A few people still walked around, but the rapidly cooling nights forced people indoors. Only then did she begin to hear the faint sounds of feet behind her. Not wanting to draw attention to herself, she brushed a lock of black hair from her face. The movement allowed her a short casual glance behind her.
Her heart quickened. Not thirty paces away, a group of three black cloaked men walked with determined strides. Her eyes glanced around rapidly for signs of safety. She knew that she was being paranoid, but the men had a look about them.
A young couple rounded a corner ahead of her, they continued down the same path she wanted to walk. Her heart pounded in her ears. With slightly longer and faster strides, she gained on them as quickly as possible without drawing attention. The footfalls of those behind grew more distant.
A few paces behind the pair, Kate finally slowed. Her heart, beating in her ears began to subside. Fortune saved her. The couple walked her exact route home. A few careful stares finally assured her the group following were gone. With a final careful study of her surroundings she entered the flat.
It was dark and quiet. Switching on the light she released a breath she had not known she held. Her bag was quickly discarded, allowing her shoulder to relax without the weight. She needed a cup of tea, a sweet cup. The kettle began to boil as she stood waiting.
Waiting allowed her mind to catch up with the events. Despite their distance and the people around, she felt as if they had been after her. Her hands began to shake as she tried to throw a bag of tea into her cup. Soon her entire body shook as the adrenaline in her system drained away. Within minutes she was lying in her bed.
At first she cried because she had been scared. Then her tears became those of loneliness. Most people could reach out, pick up a phone and talk to their parents. Kate could not, the only person she knew was Margerat, but she would not be of any help. Despite her caring, the woman had never really loved Kate. She was a girl that needed a home, nothing more, nothing less.
Despite having a mountain of work to complete, it remained undone. Soon sleep overtook Kate.
Thanks for reading. I hope you liked the chapter.
Comments appreciated as always J
