February came with a series of wicked snowstorms that went on for days and put Hogwarts in an apocalypse-like state. Professors seemed to get tired of the fight with the endless snow. The blizzard insolently created the piles they just managed to vanish and melt in a mere few hours. The snow was pouring down from the steel grey sky as if from a ripped sack. The snowflakes created a wall you couldn't see through further than a few feet. Because of the harsh weather, Herbology classes got canceled as students weren't allowed to leave the castle even to go as far as to the greenhouses. Hagrid's hut had almost disappeared behind the heaps of snow and the half-giant was sweating, working hard to shovel the area clean.

The Gryffindor common room was pleasantly warm due to the fireplace that never went out, what couldn't be said about the dormitories. The stove in the middle of a room didn't emit too much heat and we, boys, were shivering under layers of blankets, hiding from the icy air that seeped into the dormitory through the cracks around the windows. Neville even took his toad into the bed with him which seemed quite disgusting to me, but the housemate obviously had a deep attachment to his pet.

These cold, windy and snowy days were a turning point and the relatively safe being in Hogwarts suddenly changed dramatically. When I looked back at it later, I realized this was the beginning of the worst time period of my life. Back then I was sitting in the protection of magical sunshine and didn't see the enormous, black cloud coming in my direction.

I began to have twisted, unnerving nightmares that didn't resemble any other dream I had ever seen before. Actually, I had never been much of a dreamer. Most of my nights were spent in an empty sleep, I closed my eyes in the evening and opened them in the morning with nothing in between. And if I did dream, I only saw abstract things, coming together from the books read, the movies I watched, and the people I met.

This was different. These dreams were frighteningly specific as if someone had programmed them into my head. And what worried me the most was the fact that the person who featured in these unwelcomed mind fruits was the one I cared about a lot.

The first time it happened, I didn't give it much attention. That night was very dark, pitch-black, no moon or stars were visible through the storm. The wind was howling around the windows and large snowflakes splashed against the glass, melting down like icy tears. I was sleeping under several blankets and a weird image materialized in front of my closed eyes.

I was back in my old high school. I walked through the open gate and the school's front door that was swinging wide open. Inside, I saw familiar things instantly. A half-knitted sock was laying on the desk of the security guard who was near her retiring age and students used to make fun of how useless the elderly woman would be if an actual criminal came into the school. A big schedule of classes and their times was pinned up on the notice board. A freshly green palm tree was sitting a big clay pot on the windowsill. On the opposite side of the room, there was a huge lemon tree my friend once managed to steal a lemon from.

I felt the smell of fresh paint that hit me in the nose whenever I walked into the school, someone seemed to paint something every single day. The aroma of brewed coffee was coming from the teachers' room. The metallic tinkling of numbers was sounding from the school's cloakroom.

Despite it all, something wasn't right. The school was completely abandoned. I couldn't see anyone or hear anyone's voice. There was no sound of hundreds of steps running up and down the hallways. I felt my heart beating wildly as I walked, checking every room in my way, and finding it empty. Teachers and students seemed to be vanished into thin air, as notebooks, pens, pencils, and schoolbags were still laying on desks.

At the end of the long hallway, almost near the school's cafeteria, I found Harry. He was standing still with his back at me, looking in the opposite direction as if waiting for something. Surprised as to what was he doing in a Muggle school, I came up to him and landed my hand on his shoulder.

He turned around and gave me a look that wasn't quite the way Harry used to look at me or anyone else. His face was expressionless, the emeralds of his eyes were dull and lifeless like a gem that's frozen into a block of ice. He showed no emotion, his lips compressed together and mouth forming a tight line. I wasn't completely sure if he was looking at me or through me.

Though I was dreaming, I knew something was wrong not only with my school but Harry as well. Nonetheless, I reached and hugged him, perhaps hoping that my closeness will change him into the vivant person he normally was, like a frog that turns into a prince with the help of a kiss. Harry's arms wrapped around me, carefully first, he pulled me closer until our faces were just a few inches apart.

Suddenly Harry's features started to change. His handsome face changed to a bone-white, reptilian skin. The head turned into a bald skull. Pupils stood vertically in the bloodshot, scarlet red eyes. The nose was flat with snake-like slits for nostrils and where lips should be, the hideous thing had nothing. It stared at me closely, unbelievably hostile.

" Thomas... " a high, cold voice spoke from somewhere above, traveling in circles like waves from a stone thrown into a pond.

That wasn't Harry's voice. That was barely even a human voice. Deep inside me, I felt a sharp, stinging pain. A scorching pinch that rose from the depths of my being, far beyond the physical body. Terrified, I pulled away from the monstrosity that was once Harry, but skeletal hands with long, pale blue fingernails held me tightly. The red eyes were blazing with demonic fire that even the devil couldn't compete with.

A large hand with fingers like spider's legs stretched out, fingers curled like eagle's claws as if to crush my throat. I screamed. And with a scream, I woke up.

I jolted up in the bed, panting. My pajamas were drenched in cold sweat till the last seam and the beats of my heart were almost tearing the ribcage open. Harry stirred next to me, awoken by my sudden movements. He rubbed my back comfortingly.

" What's wrong? " he asked, his hand feeling me around, maybe looking for a dry spot on my clothes. " Are you ok? "

Warily, I glanced at him over my shoulder, scared to see a snake-like beast curled in my bed. But it was Harry just the way I knew him. His hair resembled a messy bird's nest and the bright green eyes were as gentle as always, now full of sleep. I looked at my watch on the nightstand. It was 3:10 am.

" I'm fine, " I said, laying down. The pillowcase under my head was just as wet as everything else. " Just a bad dream. "

Harry cuddled me, softly nuzzling the back of my neck, and eventually, I felt better. Still, I was too frightened to fall asleep again and spent the rest of the night with eyes open, watching the darkness and listening to Harry's steady heartbeat. Laying under the blankets, I was shivering and not from the cold. I had never experienced such a vivid dream before and it gave me more fear than all the horror movies I had watched combined.

I didn't raise any alarms after this first time. After all, who doesn't get a nightmare every now and then? The next morning I chatted away with my housemates, the delicious breakfast, and the captivating classes that followed put the nasty dream out of my head completely. By lunchtime, I had totally forgotten about it.

However, the next night dreams returned. And the night after the next as well. I was tossing and turning in the bed, unable to close my eyes though otherwise exhausted. The dreams kept changing location too and those were always places I had previously been at. One night I found myself on the football field where the team of my school competed against the team from another town. The second time I was near my summer swimming spot – the lake in the woods and the third night I was roaming in the park that my friends and I used all the time to chill with a couple of drinks and smokes.

But no matter where I was, there was always Harry. And he was always totally unlike himself. After a while, I realized I can control my dream actions to a certain extent and, not wanting to meet the serpent-faced creature, I wasn't approaching Harry anymore. But that didn't help. The thing that pretended to be Harry turned and started to chase me. I was never fast enough and whenever my skin made contact with the fiend, I felt the same nip of pain, as if those long nails were trying to tear me open little by little.

A week later I had almost gotten used to having troubled sleep and horrifying visions every night. I didn't wake up screaming anymore and Harry next to me didn't even notice when my eyes snapped open in the middle of the night. But at the same time, I understood that this shouldn't become something to get used to. I didn't feel like I was in real danger but the reoccurring pattern was concerning. These were not an absurd mix of subconsciousness. These were nightmares about me. That's why I asked McGonagall to arrange me a meeting with Dumbledore. If someone could tell what was going on with me, he was the person.

Dumbledore welcomed me as kindly as always. I doubted the headmaster was spending his day and postponing his duties to talk to every student who wanted it but he always had time for me. I told him about every single dream, trying to include as many details as I could recall. While I was speaking, Dumbledore was silent. He listened carefully and never interrupted me with questions, his face was serious but not worried and I began to think I might have exaggerated just a little by coming here and stealing Dumbledore's time with what was nothing but dreams.

" Do you sleep together with Harry? "

The headmaster's first question caught me unprepared and I didn't answer for a while. I had expected totally different Q and A. Dumbledore smiled shyly.

" I understand it might be private but in this context, it's important. "

" Yes, we do. "

" And have you ever had similar visions during the daytime? "

" No, sir. "

Dumbledore was thinking for a while. Then he lifted his eyes on me and the look on his face reminded me of the time when he first told me who Voldemort was.

" It's very good you decided to see me, Thomas. Really reasonable on your part. "

" Is it something serious? "

Dumbledore sighed. " I'm afraid so. "

The headmaster got up from the chair and started to circle the office from one side to the other. His hands were clasped behind his back and in his face, there was a tense expression. Watching him pacing made my head spin.

" Do you remember that the last time you both were here, we briefly spoke about Horcruxes? "

I nodded. A piece of a split soul hidden inside an object. To me, the concept seemed pathetic and hands down disturbing. How cowardly one has to be to mutilate themselves from inside out just to avoid the death that was just as natural as birth?

" It's magic for wimps if you ask me. "

Dumbledore simpered at my youthful maximalism as he came back to the desk and sat in front of me again.

" It's the darkest form of magic possible. Creating a Horcrux means going against all laws of nature and morality. It's an abomination, Thomas, yet Voldemort has created several of them. And Horcruxes are able to influence those in their vicinity and affect them mentally. To fuck with their heads, as you would say. "

I wasn't sure what surprised me more – the fact that the elderly wizard just cursed or the result I got from putting two and two together. But it was impossible. No professor would have allowed students to be near something so dark.

" Are you saying there's a Horcrux in Gryffindor tower? "

To my astonishment, Dumbledore bowed his head affirmatively. " Unfortunately yes. "

" I don't understand. Why is it there? Why hasn't anybody gotten rid of it? And what is it? "

" See... most of the time, Horcruxes are inanimate objects, because it decreases the chances of them being destroyed. This ink bottle could be made into a Horcrux, for example, " the headmaster touched the dark blue bottle with his wand, " but sometimes Horcruxes are living things. Sadly, there's one very close to you. "

I was baffled and didn't want to see the answer the outline of which had already formed in front of my eyes. Inside, I was begging to be wrong but I was right. Never before had I hated so much to be right.

" Yes, " Dumbledore confirmed my suspicion. " Harry is a Horcrux too. "

I couldn't believe it. It couldn't be true. From what I knew, Harry hated Voldemort more than anything. My mind couldn't wrap around how could have he agreed to serve as a tool for someone who killed his parents and almost Harry himself. I only calmed after Dumbledore explained that Harry is an accidental Horcrux, one that Voldemort never intended to make. He didn't know that a piece of his soul was residing inside his enemy. And neither did Harry.

" How could you not tell him? "

" Harry's not ready to find it out yet. He only needs to know at the very last moment, or else he won't have the strength to do what he has to do. It's very important, Thomas, and I need you to swear to me that Harry will not find it out from you. "

Over his half-moon glasses, Dumbledore was looking intently into my eyes. I imagined Harry's face and how from now on I was going to look into his eyes and hide something so essential from him. I remembered how upset Harry was when he found out I didn't tell him the real reason why I came to Hogwarts. After learning I had held back another, much graver secret from him, he might start to hate me.

" I swear. Do you think Voldemort's trying to influence me through Harry? "

" I think he may have gone through London by now in search for you and could have realized something's shielding you from him. He might have suspected you're in Hogwarts. Where's Hogwarts, there's Harry, who shares a connection of a failed curse with Voldemort. And Voldemort is highly skilled in Legilimency."

" In what? "

" Legilimency is the ability to extract the feelings and memories from another person's mind. "

" Like a mind-reading? "

Dumbledore smiled. " Only Muggles call it mind-reading. Actually, it's much more complex than that. It involves navigating magically through the many layers of mind and interpreting the findings. Voldemort might have seen you in Harry's mind. It would be very, very bad if he got into yours, Thomas. "

" Could he do that? "

" Don't underestimate Voldemort, " Dumbledore said, giving me a stern look, " he's a very powerful wizard. In a wrong way, unfortunately, but in the wizarding world, he has no rivals. "

" Except you. "

Dumbledore smiled shortly, got up, and walked towards the window. For a minute he stood in silence, watching the mash of snowflakes sliding down the glass. The blizzard only seemed to get stronger as if it wished to bury us in one big pile of snow.

" When I learned that Harry and you have grown very close, I was thinking whether I should intervene or not. Precisely because of all the reasons we discussed just now. But everything seemed to be well, so I stayed out of it. Now what I feared has happened – the dark power of Horcrux is getting to you, Thomas. What I'm going to ask you, will probably sound insane to you. And I wouldn't say it if there was another option. "

The headmaster turned to me. " Keep a distance from Harry. "

I looked at Dumbledore, confused. A little dart of pain shot into my heart and I could feel the blood rushing through my veins. Somewhere above my eyes a couple of tears were born.

" Sir, Harry is not a threat to me. "

Dumbledore came around the desk, pulled up a chair, and sat down next to me. The headmaster looked sad, these words seemed to be just as hard for him to speak as they were for me to hear.

" Harry himself – of course not. But what lives inside of him... You do remember why you were brought here in the first place, right?"

I nodded. " To save me. "

" And by saving you, we save the entire wizardkind. "

" I thought Harry was the one destined to kill Voldemort. "

" Right now, Thomas, you are more important than Harry. I understand you're in love and hearing it must be breaking your heart but it's only going to get worse. Nightmares will aggravate to daytime visions. If Voldemort realizes we're letting him do whatever he wants, he'll easily drive you to madness. If it makes you feel any better, see this request of mine as an order. "

" How am I supposed to do it? Harry and I live together. We see each other every day. You have to put me in a different house then. "

" Well...I'll see what I can do but to be fair, it's not common for students to change houses. House plays an important role in a wizard's life. "

" I'm not a wizard, so it doesn't matter. "

Dumbledore patted my shoulder in a fatherly manner. " It matters more than you think. Someday you will understand the significance of your life to wizardkind. "

That was something I didn't even want to delve into. I had always hated to be put in the center of attention. As far as I was concerned, I was an ordinary human being, no better or worse than others. Whoever decided to write that prophecy about me, was clearly out of their mind. Instead of going crazy looking for me, Voldemort could have picked another piece off his own soul if he had any left.

" But sir, " I said, as related thought came into my head. " Didn't you say Horcruxes have to be destroyed for Voldemort to die? "

" Yes. "

" So then...Harry... "

Dumbledore nodded, his long, white hair and beard shining in the candlelight. " When the time comes. Yes. "

9