A/N: You should know that this chapter is the day after.


Dreams are a terribly amazing thing. It can reveal a person's wants and shape the future. It can lead to certain things. For Harry, it was pure agony.

-Dreaming—

Harry could hear its laughter. It was the only thing the thing did. Laugh. Its eyes were hollowed out like that of skulls, and yet, life still danced merrily in its eyes despite its affiliation with death. Its teeth glistened in some unseen light. There was only darkness in the background. Then her screams started to reach his ears. They were so clear, so pristine, that it sickened him to the stomach. He recalled them so perfectly.

"No! Not Harry!" Her voice said, rushing in front of him. Slowly, Harry saw her body encased in that horrid green light, spouting from the creature's hands. It sucked the light out of her eyes, and she dropped to the ground. Harry could feel the tears forming in his eyes. The room around him was in shambles, walls scorched by what seemed like burns while the curtains were torn. The flooring was ripped up by some unseen force while there lay a figure there, prone and unmoving. The man's eyes, the dead man that lay on the floor, were a shade of mesmerising chocolate brown. They seemed to suck Harry into them.

But then, Harry heard two specific words. AVADA KEDAVRA. There was that beam of death again, sickly and seemingly to form a caduceus. Not once did it stop, not once did they start. They simply remained there as the thing started to head towards him. He could remember feeling darkness encase him as the sickly green light hit his chest.

Slowly, the room shifted into an all too familiar place. It was dark and claustrophobic. The air around him stunk of piss and shit. Harry sat there with his clothes tattered and the rough wood rubbing against his skin, creating splinters. He lay there with blood caked his arms, its metallic taste in his mouth. He could feel the slimy blobs and the fluid. He agonisingly made his way towards the threadbare pillows in the corner. He couldn't know whether it was day or night. How many days had he spent locked in here? How many nights? He could hear the thuds of their steps, the figures flickering outside. The light was the only thing that told him that life was still well. That they hadn't left.

All of a sudden, he could hear voices, hundreds them screaming at him. He had begged them to stop, to stop shouting. He cried out, desperately, feeling them overtake him no matter how hard he tried. He couldn't get them out of his mind. They all screamed at him, calling him "FREAK." They came from all directions, hitting him, destroying his mind. It felt as if they were tearing his apart, slowly pulverising each tendon in his body. And suddenly, they disappeared as suddenly as they came. Slowly, they turned into figures.

"Where is he?!" a voice shouted. It was Dudley. He was shouting at his group, shouting so that they could find him and beat him. Harry ran in the wood, seeing all of the shadows looming over him. He felt scared, spears of pain and fear piercing his heart. The wind blew around him, causing the branches to violently sway and the leaves to rustle. His feet thudded on the hard ground, twigs cracking under his weight. Suddenly, he heard them. They seemed to close in like wolves stalking their prey. He could hear screams in the distance, buildings burning.

Quickly the scene changed into that of war. He could see the bodies of his friends being hung like the people in the Bones' residence. Daphne's wrists and ankles were pierced by iron spikes, spread on the wall. Blood oozed out of her wounds. The same was for Hermione, Blaise, Susan, and Tracey. `

Suddenly, Harry was running into the grinning face of Vernon. His face contorted in the unnatural expression, each hair moving as if they were their own arms. He could see the savage glint in the Walrus' deathly black eyes. At a moment's notice, there were bats, paddles, pans, and all sorts of other things that attacked Harry. They hit him hard, causing welts to immediately form and the pain to increase that Harry was reduced to nothing but a muttering wreck. As the darkness took him again, he saw the Giraffe.

She seemed nice enough despite the smug look and haughty face. But her eyes betrayed her. They were filled with a boiling anger that spilt out and burnt Harry who had woken just in time to feel the pain. He screamed as the water poured all over him. Slowly, the water subsided, only for the Horse to open her mouth. Out came spiders of all sorts. Many were massive while hundreds were small, all nightmarishly silent.

They covered Harry's entire body, causing him to writhe in pure and utter disgust. He could feel the thousands of feet crawling over him.

And Harry woke up.

-Transition-

Harry's eyes snapped open. He felt the sweat that coated his skin, the wet bedsheets, and registered the peaceful breathing of his roommates. Apparently, it was still night, or it was early in the morning. Harry fumbled for his wand, grabbing his glasses in the process. Quickly, he cast a Tempus. It was 5:00 am. Slowly, Harry got up, his head throbbing. He unrobed himself and cast a quick Scourgify on them, causing them to dry instantly.

'All I have to do is drop them in the laundry bin and wait a couple minutes,' Harry thought. He opened his trunk and took out several of his clothes, clothes from Madam Malkin, and made his way towards the bathrooms.

There were bathrooms in each dorm and they were sterile. Tile was used for the flooring and the walls. It was composed of three separate rooms, one devoted to changing, another entirely for showers, tubs, sinks, and stuff like that while the final room was for toilets. It was a castle after all.

Harry went into the showers, leaving his clothes on a hanging rack, and turned on the hot water. It flowed down him, creating a mist that rose, trapped in the enclosed space. Quickly, the air around him was clouded. Harry could feel his mind being torn apart. It felt like someone was starting to set fire to his mind. It was happening again, and Harry was scared again. He felt like the small little child he had been before the books. He was the beaten child, the child that was being destroyed by the monsters he lived with.

He focused on the pain of the hot water. Pain. It was something that he became intimately familiar with. It had often rushed over him like a fire. But now, he let it envelop him, welcoming it like an old friend. It sent shivers of pleasure down his spine. Oh, how he loved to have control over his pain. He could feel Pain encasing him in his own bubble, causing the voices to stop. It caused him to slowly calm down, the water flowing down his back. The mental fires were being put out, and for that Harry was grateful. He felt all of his figurative little papers going back into their appropriate folders. His mind was being organised once again. He could feel his mental barriers return.

He got out of the shower after quite some time. He dressed once again, loving the way that acromantula silk felt on his skin, and made his way out of the dorms with a pair of leather shoes that were charmed to grip the floor as well as a top-of-the-line pair of sneakers. He made no noise whatsoever. It was eerily silent as he walked down the halls.

Finally, he reached the common room and there in the centre was a floating piece of parchment. It read, 'As per tradition, there shall be no classes today.'

Harry, upon reading this, was entirely happy. Then he remembered the detention. It was worth it, killing the creature to save Hermione's life. But could he have been able to subdue it? No, it was impossible for the required spells to even penetrate the skin and take effect.

He wanted to destroy that creature. Mercy wasn't an option when dealing with threatening creatures.

'Of course,' Harry thought, moving over to the fireplace, 'when I deal with sentient beings like Vampires and Veela, then there should always be the option to deal with them. I'm not one of those Pureblood supremacists.'

Slowly, Harry sat down in front of the fireplace and meditated. He lost himself in his mind, allowing it to drift as his breathing slowed and his sensory input from the rest of the world diminished. It was a hard feeling to described, entering a sense of calm. He was at rest, feeling all of his thoughts disperse. He could feel his mental barriers strengthening. The fire softly crackled and its heat were the two things that he processed. These things were his world, nothing else. His purpose in life was to listen to the fire and feel the heat.

He was in the middle of his meditation when he heard a soft feminine voice ask, "Meditating Harry?"

Slowly, he opened his eyes and smiled. It was Daphne. "Yes," was his only answer.

"Can you help me with something?" She asked.

Harry got up, ignoring the pain his legs, and turned around, looking at her. On an impulse, he quickly cast a Tempus. It was 6:30 a.m. "With what?" Harry asked, confident that after this, he'd be able to take a short trip into the Chambers.

"Potions."

"Of course," Harry said, slightly sighing.

"What's your price?" she asked, reaching for a bag that was slung over her shoulders.

Harry motioned her to stop. "Just future favour."

Daphne asked hesitantly, "What kind of favour?"

The wizard made a placating gesture. "Merlin, you know that I'm not like that. Just a small favour. Maybe a prank, notes, books. Nothing serious."

Daphne smiled sheepishly. "Sorry Harry. I'm just suspicious when a boy asks that."

"Understandable."

There was a pause and Harry didn't move.

"So…should we get started?" Daphne asked after a few seconds, confused by his lack of motion.

"Have you gotten breakfast yet?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow.

She shook her head.

"Then there's your answer. Let's go to the Great Hall. Can't work on an empty stomach."

"Oh," was her only response, further confused by his lack of...action.

They made their way towards the Great Hall, the passages containing only a few people. For the most part, they walked in silence, each trying to find a topic to talk about. About halfway, Harry asked, "How are you?"

Daphne immediately answered, "Good, life's good. How about you?"

Harry, oddly, was surprised. "Me? Fairly good. Anything noteworthy happen?"

"Hmm…" Daphne fell deep into thought as they continued to approach the Hall. "My dad," she suddenly blurted, immediately cursing herself.

"Your father? What about him?" Harry was confused.

"Err…" Daphne hesitated, regretting that she brought up the matter.

"A bit too late to stop, isn't it?" the wizard said, smiling with an eye brow raised and eyes sparkling in curiosity.

Daphne sighed. "He's…been, well, err…" She hesitated once again. "He left."

"He left?" Harry asked, not believing her for a second.

"We shouldn't be discussing this, Harry. At least not here," Daphne said starting to sweat at her mistake.

"Yet you brought it up," He countered.

The witch scowled in frustration.

The wizard backed off, saying, "Then, later."

Daphne was grateful. "Thanks."

They were silent for a while before Daphne asked, "So, you killed the troll?"

"Yes." His answer was curt.

"Any details?" She asked faking curiosity.

He said in one breath, "Hermione was there, I killed it, and we both got detention."

"You can do better than that."

Harry sighed. Oh, how he hated talking about himself. "I had heard a scream from the girl's bathroom. I ran towards the sound and saw Hermione being held in the air by the troll. I sent a Reducto and a modified banishing spell, the latter killing it. We have detention today with Hagrid."

"There, that's better," Daphne said, satisfied.

Harry gave a small smile. They had reached the Great Hall. By that time, there were already people eating, though Slytherin had the fewest people at the table. The professors were sitting at their table while many were yawning. Excessively. He could feel their stares as he walked in, but ignored them, sitting down at his usual spot and started to eat. Daphne did the same, seemingly oblivious to the others. The food was delicious.

As he ate, he felt more and more people looking at him. He turned around and asked in a loud voice, "What?"

That deterred most of the people staring at him, but he heard a Gryffindor whisper in awe, "You killed a troll. By yourself."

"Yes, I did. I killed it to prevent a person from dying. What do you want me to do? Make a ballad of my adventure? Proclaim myself as the next Merlin? Or wear a massive glowing sign saying that I'm the guy who killed the tyrant troll that ruled over Hogwarts with an iron fist, the same troll that made the Gryffindors pee their pants? I'd rather study, thank you very much."

At this, he turned away and the people in the Hall who had heard him stopped looking, the Gryffindor looking quite abashed. Professor Snape was having a hard time not bursting out laughing at Harry's nonchalance when saying that. Professor McGonagall seemed about ready to take points when Dumbledore nudged her and shook his head. Scowling, she turned her attention towards her food.

Suddenly a voice rang out from the house of lions. "You could be the next Dark Lord for all we know Potter," a sneer in the voice was evident. It was Weasley. What the hell was he doing, eating breakfast at this time? It was too early. "Probably killed the bloody troll with a killing curse."

"Language Mr. Weasley. Three points from Gryffindor," Professor Snape said, emotion lacking in his voice.

"I'd bet that you'd prefer to hit it with a tickling charm. Let's see what that'll get you," Harry said, turning to the Gryffindor table once again, adopting a thoughtful face. "Oh, I know. A giant club to the face."

"Ha! You didn't deny that you use the curse!" Weasley rose in exultation.

"Absolutely stupid, isn't he?" Harry said to Daphne, knowing full well that everyone could hear him. She nodded. "Wouldn't you think that the Headmaster know if I used the curse?"

"But you've probably got a way to hide it, with you being a bloody snake and all!"

"Ridiculous. But why would you suggest it?" Harry smiled predatorily. "Probably used it several times in the past, didn't you Weasley?"

"Never!" the redheaded boy said.

"Then why did you suggest it? Did your mother teach it to you?" Harry asked, baiting him.

"Why if I get my hands on you!" Weasley was now 'aggravated.'

Oh dear, it seemed as if he were going to do something that he was going to regret.

Harry rose, releasing his magic which gushed out of his body and swirled around him dramatically. The people around him shivered as if cold while others had fear in their eyes. He took a few menacing steps towards the Gryffindor table. His magic felt predatorial, a visible aura starting to form around him. Dumbledore looked quite entertained.

"Now listen here Weasley," Harry commanded, his voice dangerously low. "What would you do? You're the one who cowered in the Great Hall while Hermione was put in danger."

"But that doesn't mean anything!" Weasley said, his face as red as his hair, completely oblivious of the danger that he was in. "That Ravenclaw means nothing to anyone here! She's a bloody know-it-all that no one likes!"

"There's that Gryffindor arrogance that we all know," Harry said, now showing tremendous restraint as he went against every instinct to see Weasley in ropes, hanging from the ceiling. No one had the right to insult her like that, considering the fact that it was practically an insult. "Now, would you like to fight?"

Instead of answering the question, the redheaded boy said, "I, Ronald Bilius Weasley, challe-Mmph!"

Harry's wand had suddenly appeared in his hand which then sent a Langlock spell at Weasley, locking his tongue to the roof of his mouth. It was a spell that Professor Flitwick showed him, among others, in order to effectively dispatch his opponents.

The youngest Weasley clutched at his mouth in panic, unable to speak. Suddenly, Harry sent an overpowered Cheering Charm towards the other wizard, causing the latter to shake uncontrollably with tears streaming down his cheeks.

This time, Dumbledore stood. Finite, he incanted as Harry walked back to his seat. "Brilliantly handled Mr. Potter. 15 points to Slytherin. 15 points from Gryffindor for attempting to commence a duel. Mr. Weasley, you have detention tonight with Hagrid."

Ron simply grumbled and started shoving food into his mouth.

Slowly, the Hall went back to their food as if nothing had happened. Daphne, in character, decided that at a later date, she would ask Harry for those spells. Quickly, they finished and headed towards the library.


A/N: That was fun. Hopefully, the chapter isn't as bad as I think it is. I'm not particularly good at constructive dialogue. And the dreams. I'm trying my hand at those, but probably failed. It's, I think, one of the weaker parts of the chapter. But I've done my best. I've also dropped a few hints about Harry's financial background.

It's infinitely easier to come up with a basic guideline when writing. I'll probably post the next chapter next week. I hope that you are having a good week. Go ahead and poke holes in my story. I'll address them. If anyone is interested in beta-reading, PM me. Oh, nearly forgot-please review. It makes my writing better.