He was running. Running, shouting, and desperately trying to escape from something. Or someone… He could hear the bone chilling laughter of someone most definitely evil gaining on him from behind and he felt the very breath leave his body as his skin began to crawl. Gasping for air, he rounded a corner and then heard a familiar voice coming from the end of the long, stretching hallway that he found himself in.

"Harry!" the voice called him, and he knew he had to get to them in time or something terrible would happen. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest and the utter fright of not being able to save whoever was calling for him.

"Harry!" the voice came again, causing him to run harder because no matter how fast he went the end of the hall didn't seem to get any nearer. "Harry!" He felt his desperation peak at the sound of their voice coming again but this time sounding as if it were tearing through their throat with pain. Harry could feel his lungs protesting at him as he ran with all of his might, but the hall seemed to grow with every step he took. Feeling fire burning in his throat he wanted to scream in frustration.

"I'm sorry!" he gasped out to them, starting violently as he felt a hand on his shoulder and his surroundings became blurry. He still felt panic coursing through his veins as he instinctively flinched out of reach. Glasses were gently pressed onto his face and everything came into focus.

"Harry," Ron said to him, as he stood over his bed, watching him with concern, "You were having a nightmare." Harry merely stared up at his best friend, his breath coming in pants, eyes wide, still feeling slightly detached, now able to place who the voice in his dream belonged to. Relief flooded Harry when it finally registered that Ron wasn't in danger and he shakily scrambled to his feet and pulled Ron into a breathless embrace. He heard Ron's surprised little "Oh," and feared that he had overstepped, but then Ron hugged him back and he relaxed. After a moment, he pulled back and held Ron at arms length by the shoulders as he simply looked at him.

"You're alright," Harry spoke, his voice hoarse and trembling slightly. Ron gave him a confused little smile as he nodded at him slowly.

"Yeah. Course I'm alright," Ron responded gently, his tone reassuring, "Are you?" At this, Harry dropped his hands from his friend's shoulders and broke his gaze as he began to look around for his wand and his shoes.

"You…you said you were sorry," Ron said while he watching as Harry was looking about a bit frantically, but then froze in his crouched position at his words, "What were you dreaming about?"

Harry tensed as he realized he had spoken that bit of his dream aloud. He really didn't want to tell Ron that he had dreamt of him about to be killed and that Harry couldn't save him. What kind of best friend would that make him? He hurriedly found his shoes hiding in the farthest corner under the bed and pulled them on after a quick dusting.

"Umm…have you seen my wand?" Harry asked quietly as he continued to avert his gaze, beginning to feel a bit embarrassed for his behaviour. He turned the sheets around hoping to find the object within their folds, but with no luck. Ron regarded him silently, sensing that Harry didn't want to talk about it and allowed the change of subject.

"Er, yeah, when I got up I saw it on the floor so I put it in the drawer. Y'know, so nothing would happen to it," He said, indicating the small desk drawer that was wedged between their beds. Harry rushed over to it and opened the top drawer to see his wand nestled safely among the socks. He breathed out a small sigh of relief and took it out to store in his pocket.

"Thanks," he muttered gratefully at Ron, who nodded at him silently. They merely stood there in silence for a moment, Harry wondering if he should tell Ron about his dream or at least offer some sort of explanation for his sudden hug, Ron feeling unsure if he should continue to probe or if he should just drop it for now.

"Well," Ron spoke, shattering the silence, "Mum says breakfast is ready. We should head down there before all the blueberry scones are gone." Harry huffed out a breath in amusement at Ron's constant eye for food.

"Okay," he agreed, and they began the trek downstairs together. They could hear everyone else conversing down below and Harry could feel his lightheartedness ebb away at the prospect of facing them all. He swallowed down the nervousness he felt well up in his throat, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt as they continued downward. Once they reached the bottom, Harry saw the flurry of red hair before them and the way they all paused to look at him, he knew this was most likely going to become a Question Harry breakfast. Swallowing anxiously, they stood still for a moment as they merely looked back and Harry was, once again, grateful for Ron as he broke the silence.

"What's for breakfast?" he asked in a casual tone, most likely hoping to urge the others to act the same. His question seemed to break the spell and they all began to move about and speak once more.

"Your favourite," Mrs. Weasley responded with a smile at her youngest son. Ron pumped his fist up into the air in a gesture of victory. Harry tried his best to look excited so no one would ask him if everything was all right. Mrs. Weasley ushered him into the kitchen with her, causing him to feel a bit of separation anxiety from being taken away from Ron and to wonder what she wanted him alone for. She took him to the cabinets and handed him a pile of plates and forks.

"Here," she said as she placed them in his hands, "Will you set the places for everyone, dear?" She regarded him with a smile and Harry felt the tightness in his chest ease up when he realized she only wanted him to help.

"Yeah, of course," he responded in a quiet voice. She nodded her thanks at him and raised a hand to pat at his messy hair. He had to fight to stay put and not move away from her touch, knowing she would take it the wrong way.

"Alright, then just bring back any extra plates if they're left over. Ron sometimes wants two." They shared an amused look at her last comment before he gave her a tired smirk and nodded as he went to go set up the table. As he put down a few plates, he heard footsteps approach behind him and he felt his shoulder's tense instinctively.

"Harry," he heard the firm voice of Mr. Weasley, "Get back to sleep alright?" Harry turned and saw the way the older man was looking at him and he found that he couldn't speak him. He could feel the ever familiar guilt starting to rise in his throat. He tried to speak but spluttered and coughed, causing Mr. Weasley to pat him on the back a few times. Once he regained his ability to talk, he glanced at the man in front of him for a second before turning away to continue his task.

"Er…yeah, fine." He spoke, barely suppressing a stutter, trying to sound casual as he set the rest of the plates down. He sensed that Mr. Weasley wanted to talk further but the rest of the family began to file in so he merely gave Harry a smile as he took his seat. George gave him a clap on the shoulder as he passed by and took his seat next to Ron. Harry started, nearly dropped the remaining plates he was holding and looked up in fright to see George give him a small wink of apparent apology for startling him. The Burrow was feeling especially cramped because both Bill and Charlie had come to stay at home for a while, most likely relishing the feeling of being able to be with their family without the worry of the most powerful dark wizard on the loose hanging over their heads. But for Harry, all their visiting caused was more anxiety and guilt to be added to the terrible mix of emotions that were swirling within him.

Bill passed by Harry with a smirk, ever Mr. Cool, as he went to find a seat so they could begin breakfast. Harry was nearly finished setting all the places and was trying to finish as quick as he could before everyone was already seated and merely waiting on him. He hurriedly set the remaining places that were needed, but then Harry's heart stuttered as he stared at the plate that he had just put down. He felt emotion rise up in his throat and this time he couldn't stuff it back down, his eyes began to burn of their own accord. He clenched his fists, screwed his eyes shut tight, and took in a shaky breath as he attempted to contain himself. He could feel everyone's eyes burning holes into his back and he knew he had to get out of there before something really bad happened.

"Er, sorry – I – I'm just not very hungry," he choked out as he quickly snatched up the plate he had just set down and put it back in the pile, feeling his hands shaking uncontrollably. He walked as fast as he could without running to put the plates back in their place and quickly exited the house to be alone before anyone could say a word to him. The Weasleys were left feeling incredibly confused, all looking at each other at a loss. They all began speaking quietly, wondering what had just happened and Mrs. Weasley immediately moved to get up and go after Harry but was quickly stopped by Ron.

"Mum," he said hurriedly, shaking his head at her, "You should probably just…" He made a gesture to imply that Harry should be left alone. She gave him a concerned look as she looked at the direction that Harry had left.

"What happened? Is he alright, Ron?" She immediately began to question her son, knowing that he was by far the closest to Harry. Ron seemed as if he were about to dismiss it and say once more that Harry just needed to be by himself, but was cut off by his father.

"He has seemed a bit…distant," Mr. Weasley spoke thoughtfully, looking at the table with a faraway look in his eyes. Everyone's eyes were on Ron at this point, waiting for an explanation on Harry's behaviour. Upon hearing his father's words, Ron shifted a bit uncomfortably looking as if he were debating on something.

"Well," he began quietly, gazing at his plate for he didn't want to meet anyone's gaze as he said this, "I…I wasn't going to mention it… But I woke him from a nightmare." Everyone reacted to this new information, but Ron continued. "And when he came to…he got up and hugged me. Like he was relieved or something… I tried asking him about the dream but he didn't want to talk about it. He's probably just still upset over whatever it was." He ended with a shrug, looking up at the shocked looks on his parents faces, instantly regretting divulging this information for he knew that he had most likely just made it worse for Harry.

"Have his nightmares been this bad all this time?" Mrs. Weasley continued to question her son, breakfast long forgotten as Harry's well being was much more important to all of them. At Ron's silent nod, they all began to question him further trying figure out the best way to help Harry. Everyone had something new to ask about what had been happening with him, but no one noticed that George was the only one to remain silent as he stared detachedly at the place where Harry had just been standing. And no one else had noticed what George himself had noticed. That Harry had automatically set one extra place than was needed…

A/N – Poor Harry… Did anyone else figure out what George did? Please review and let me know what you think!