Disclaimers: I do not legally own any of the Original Harry Potter characters.
Warnings: mentions of child abuse will be written.
Summary; One Harry Potter wakes up in a nightmare.
A/N: I'm writing this through pov of characters around Harry Potter, or important to the plot. You'll see the hints and details advance when reading.
Dreamwalking
The sun rose, breaking through the old stones and heavy windows of the sleepy castle. Creatures of the forest rose and hid from the sun rays trickling down from above.
Thing shifted, in the belly of Hogwarts, meals were baked and prepared like any ordinary day in a extraordinary world. Things here were brewing underneath, an uneasy fell into the student body. But those emotions and thoughts were put aside with the morning haze of the school.
Because that's the magic of Hogwarts, that there's always a warm spell surrounding its old walls that told untold stories.
That's why it came to such an icy shock.
Let's rewind: You wake up. With a heavy tonuge and aching bones, you want nothing else but to fall back into the warm matress, to float away from conscious of reality.
But you are forced to what to feel, and so, you force through the cotton stuffed into your ears, and mindlessly walk to the toilet. You just want to stop the ache in your back, and blink away the sleep.
You're still clearing away the haze surrounding you, an uphill battle, when you bump into your best friend. A friend, that no matter just how ridiculous, will step in and jump into a rabbit hole with you.
This is the step you regret: with you're sleep deprived mind, you both agree to go and fill you're stomachs 'till they explode. A brilliant plan.
You struggle with your shoes, and both make stupid jokes typical of teenagers. You both laughed, bumped jnto each other, and joke as you enter the Hall.
And it never gets old.
Grand arches stretch further as you look at it, the soft clouds giving the illusions away, and the thousands year old wood that never creaks under pressure. The stone walls that held deep secrets, and the croocks and corners that were full of magic. And the fresh oven smell that lingers in the air, this is magical.
You feel goosebumps at the awarness of just how old this truly is, but your attention is distracted as the volume of the mass voices suddenly rise in pitch.
The direction of voices were mixed, all from Slytherins to Hufflepuffs, even some from the table up front.
"Bloodly 'ell, what's happening?" Ron marvelled, a tinge of fear or shock slipped through. Thats when you became aware.
Awareness of not knowing: you're suddenly out of it, looking at your mate to figure what is happening. He's as flabbergasted as you. You take a look around your own, and are meet with heartbreaking eyes.
Awareness of others: your first thought someone died is not enough became obvious as they all grip their papers that owls always drop, because of course someone died. Someone important and well known.
Awareness of location: you're seated with your back to the entrance, no one behind you can see your expression as you finally wrestle a paper away from the one closest to you. The wood under you, seated by generations of students that molded the world suddenly feels too light.
Time: time moved too slow for you. The attention grabbing Headline is too eye catching even for you, and when the milliseconds it takes your brain to process the pictures into proper words is when the reality of everything settles in. Seconds passed and in those so has your life.
Exterior motion: you know people around you are moving, making exaggerated movements. All so slow, and unpredictable, and you're aware of how fast your brother stepped in, not even knowing why they were reacting such way.
Body position: your back arched backwards if in attempt to curl into itself for protection. Your hunched over, with your muscled cramped like the time you were sick from food poisoning. The rolls of fat making it hard to breathe.
Temperature: its suddenly very cold. No longer does the atmosphere feel magical nor warm. Your hands are clamped and stiff as your brother catches the Headliner and his eyes become wide with horror.
Balance: it, also, became very hard to keep still. You feel like tilting to one side into the next, but by sheer dumb luck, you're still as your brother rages.
Muscle tension: your teeth hurt. It took a second to acknowledge it, but the pain grounded you. Made you look at yourself and see just how tightly you were gripping the papers. The photo is of you as a first year in a magical away school with awed eyes, and a toothy smile.
Heartbeat: your ears are blocked by old drums of your heart to alert you of just how badly this truly is. Its too fast, like a rabbit's whe you held one in a rare school field trip. Destiny is the hands, and you're feeling too small. Many of your friends surround you, most sitting, and all you could do is shake you're head in denial.
Gravity: you're legs are stuck. In a flare of panic, you can't help but to think you're never going to leave because your legs won't move. In fact, your shoulders feel too heavy. It takes everything to keep your head foward.
Motion of self: You shake your head slow, and delaid, as your arms shiver from the goosebumps vastly different from before, these earned from the cold.
Perception of conclusions: everyone knows and no matter what you scream the Headline will stay in their minds. You'll kick and scream that's all lies spilled from a non creditable source. But when you turn to your best friend, you'll look into his eyes and face and you know its pointless.
Perception of imagination: maybe this is a nightmare, like those thaf you are naked in school, or your teeth fall off. A recurring theme is how this always ends and you wake up to reality. Maybe this is due to stress and the pressure of the outside world dooming his dreams.
Depth: you shake yourself, you faced dark lords, you'll be fine. But those hollow words do nothing as your leader steps foward to calm the hurricane of a storm that is raging in front of him. You can't help but to compare it like moses in the red sea, all so tiny controlling a wild sea of unknown.
Sound: his voice carries above you and into the deep ears of your ears. To calm down. Everything is fine. Go back to your business and do well in class. But after all, he'll pull you aside, even with Ron fighting and seething will be pushed.
Reality: you're fucked.
And when the hurricane leaves, and wary survivors finally pick up, you realize that someone did die that day.