Chapter One: The Dream
Harry Potter had been dreaming. This in itself was not unusual. Harry hadn't slept without dreaming for months. At first, he had worried that Voldemort was sending the dreams, as he had two years ago. But these dreams were different. Harry had no sense that anyone was in immediate danger. It was more like he was living out his worst fears. For the dreams couldn't be called dreams. They were nightmares.
In them, Harry witnessed his friends being tortured and murdered. He beheld countless muggles lying dead in the streets. He watched as Hogwarts crumbled into dust. And he saw Voldemort, followed by hundreds of Death Eaters, striding through the heart of all the destruction. Nothing escaped.
In Harry's dreams, Diagon Alley was no more. All that remained was a street, piles of rubble, and the dust that hung heavily in the air. The Leaky Cauldron was always empty, its chairs and tables smashed and strewn about the floor. Stains, of which could only be blood, had pooled and soaked into the carpet. The scent of death choked the air.
The worst dreams Harry had were the ones involving those he cared about. He saw Hagrid being forced into a small pitch-black room. There was some sort of creature that lurked in the corner. Harry didn't know what it was, but Hagrid never survived the encounter.
He watched as the Weasley twins were tortured to death. They kept cracking jokes for one another, even as tears of pain flowed down their cheeks. George went first and was shortly followed by Fred, who, realizing his twin was gone, gave up fighting and embraced death. The two died with identical smiles on their faces, having escaped the pain and suffering they had endured.
He saw Mr. and Mrs. Weasley being forced to watch each of their children being killed in some horrific fashion before they, too, were murdered. Remus Lupin was pursued through a dark forest, looking for all the world like a hunted animal. The Death Eaters shot him with a silver arrow, as some kind of cruel joke. Harry saw countless other horrors, the deaths of his professors, of Neville, Luna, the Creevy brothers, Cho Chang, Seamus, Dean and so many others.
The most terrible dreams, the true nightmares, were the ones about Ron and Hermione. Hermione was always surrounded by a large circle of Death Eaters. One by one they raped her, beating her if she struggled too much. She always screamed and fought at the start, but after the first few Death Eaters had abused her, she gave up. Her eyes stared into the distance, unfocused, and it was obvious her mind was elsewhere. Perhaps with a red- haired someone. In the end, the Death Eaters killed her. Then, the pain, helplessness and humiliation disappeared from her face and Hermione slipped peacefully into an endless darkness.
Ron was usually cornered by a bunch of Death Eaters led by Draco and Lucius Malfoy. They were telling him in detail what they had done to Hermione, evil smirks on their lips. Ron listened, his ears getting redder and redder. His face went white though, after hearing that Hermione, his Hermione, was dead. Then his anger got the best of him, and Ron would attack. He never won.
And yet, they were only dreams; mere figments of Harry's imagination. It was just that the dreams were so real. Harry knew perfectly well that Ron and Hermione were fine. They had kept in close contact this summer, although Harry had neglected to tell them about his dreams.
This dream though, was different. In it, there were no Death Eaters, no destruction and no death. The dream had begun with Dumbledore, which was odd. Harry had not yet dreamed about Dumbledore.
In his dream, Dumbledore was examining some glass spheres that sat upon his desk. With a jolt, Harry realized they were prophecies. One by one, Dumbledore prodded them with his wand and the ghostly specters emerged, harshly proclaiming their messages. The only one Harry could hear clearly was the last. What he heard sent a shiver down his spine.
"Four times defeated he shall return, great and more terrible than ever. The last battle shall ensue, and only one shall emerge the victor. As the trees become barren and the wind turns icy, let all be on their guard."
As the voice died away, Dumbledore looked up. He appeared to be staring right at Harry. When he spoke, it was only three words.
"He is coming."
At these words, Harry's scar burned and he awoke, drenched in a cold sweat and gasping for air.
Dumbledore wasn't the cause of the searing pain on Harry's forehead; it was the meaning behind the words he spoke. For the 'He' could only be one person. The most feared wizard in the last hundred years. Ruthless and terrifying, and the reason for all of Harry's nightmares. Voldemort.
A flash of lightning briefly lit Harry's room, casting ominous shadows on the wall. It was followed by a clap of thunder that shook the Dursley's house. The thunder also shook Harry out of his stupor. He had to contact someone and it had to be done right away.
Harry's mind immediately sprang to Sirius. Sirius. Even though it had been a year and a half, Harry sometimes found himself forgetting that Sirius was gone. Thinking of Sirius left Harry with an empty feeling in the pit of his stomach. He shook his head. Thinking of Sirius would do him no good right now, he had to decide who to owl.
Dumbledore? But Dumbledore was never in one place for too long; it would take Hedwig too long to find him.
"C'mon, think," Harry murmured to himself. Who could he ask for help? Someone dependable, someone trustworthy, someone who wouldn't panic. The name surfaced in Harry's mind and he latched onto it gratefully. Remus Lupin. Lupin would know what to do.
Harry grabbed a quill, a piece of parchment, and scribbled Lupin a hasty note. He was careful not to write anything that would reveal too much information, on the off chance that Hedwig would be intercepted. When he had finished, Harry read over his message.
Moony - Just had a dream. More like a vision, actually. He's back and He's coming soon. You need to contact DD. We're safe for now, but it won't be long until he attacks. And I know what I saw. The dream wasn't like the ones I had year before last. Hurry. -HP
Harry nodded, satisfied with the letter. He hoped Lupin would be able to decipher it, and he hoped more that if anyone who wasn't Lupin found it, they wouldn't be able to decipher it. He walked over to Hedwig and secured the message to her outstretched leg.
"Take this to Remus, okay?" He whispered, gently stroking her soft feathery back. Hedwig gave a muffled hoot and Harry took her to the window. He hated to send her out into this storm, but this message was too important. He didn't have time to wait for the storm to pass.
Hedwig seemed to realize that time was of the essence and didn't protest as Harry opened the window and launched her into the downpour. Harry watched nervously as his owl struggled against the wind and rain. He followed Hedwig with worried eyes, until she was lost in the unrelenting rain and wind.
Harry closed the window. He didn't want to, in case Hedwig needed to fly back in quickly, but he didn't really have a choice. The rain was blowing in through the opening, and he was beginning to get rather wet. Harry sat down on his bed, wiping the water from his face with a pajama sleeve. He'd wait for Hedwig to return; hopefully she'd be back soon carrying a letter from Remus. Harry yawned, not really wanting to go back to sleep. He was sure he'd have another nightmare. Lightning flashed again, followed by thunder. It was almost peaceful.
Harry's eyes slowly began to close and he suddenly found himself horizontal. 'Well,' he thought, ' a short nap won't hurt.' Almost before he had finished the thought, Harry Potter was snoring gently, praying for a sleep without dreams.
Harry Potter had been dreaming. This in itself was not unusual. Harry hadn't slept without dreaming for months. At first, he had worried that Voldemort was sending the dreams, as he had two years ago. But these dreams were different. Harry had no sense that anyone was in immediate danger. It was more like he was living out his worst fears. For the dreams couldn't be called dreams. They were nightmares.
In them, Harry witnessed his friends being tortured and murdered. He beheld countless muggles lying dead in the streets. He watched as Hogwarts crumbled into dust. And he saw Voldemort, followed by hundreds of Death Eaters, striding through the heart of all the destruction. Nothing escaped.
In Harry's dreams, Diagon Alley was no more. All that remained was a street, piles of rubble, and the dust that hung heavily in the air. The Leaky Cauldron was always empty, its chairs and tables smashed and strewn about the floor. Stains, of which could only be blood, had pooled and soaked into the carpet. The scent of death choked the air.
The worst dreams Harry had were the ones involving those he cared about. He saw Hagrid being forced into a small pitch-black room. There was some sort of creature that lurked in the corner. Harry didn't know what it was, but Hagrid never survived the encounter.
He watched as the Weasley twins were tortured to death. They kept cracking jokes for one another, even as tears of pain flowed down their cheeks. George went first and was shortly followed by Fred, who, realizing his twin was gone, gave up fighting and embraced death. The two died with identical smiles on their faces, having escaped the pain and suffering they had endured.
He saw Mr. and Mrs. Weasley being forced to watch each of their children being killed in some horrific fashion before they, too, were murdered. Remus Lupin was pursued through a dark forest, looking for all the world like a hunted animal. The Death Eaters shot him with a silver arrow, as some kind of cruel joke. Harry saw countless other horrors, the deaths of his professors, of Neville, Luna, the Creevy brothers, Cho Chang, Seamus, Dean and so many others.
The most terrible dreams, the true nightmares, were the ones about Ron and Hermione. Hermione was always surrounded by a large circle of Death Eaters. One by one they raped her, beating her if she struggled too much. She always screamed and fought at the start, but after the first few Death Eaters had abused her, she gave up. Her eyes stared into the distance, unfocused, and it was obvious her mind was elsewhere. Perhaps with a red- haired someone. In the end, the Death Eaters killed her. Then, the pain, helplessness and humiliation disappeared from her face and Hermione slipped peacefully into an endless darkness.
Ron was usually cornered by a bunch of Death Eaters led by Draco and Lucius Malfoy. They were telling him in detail what they had done to Hermione, evil smirks on their lips. Ron listened, his ears getting redder and redder. His face went white though, after hearing that Hermione, his Hermione, was dead. Then his anger got the best of him, and Ron would attack. He never won.
And yet, they were only dreams; mere figments of Harry's imagination. It was just that the dreams were so real. Harry knew perfectly well that Ron and Hermione were fine. They had kept in close contact this summer, although Harry had neglected to tell them about his dreams.
This dream though, was different. In it, there were no Death Eaters, no destruction and no death. The dream had begun with Dumbledore, which was odd. Harry had not yet dreamed about Dumbledore.
In his dream, Dumbledore was examining some glass spheres that sat upon his desk. With a jolt, Harry realized they were prophecies. One by one, Dumbledore prodded them with his wand and the ghostly specters emerged, harshly proclaiming their messages. The only one Harry could hear clearly was the last. What he heard sent a shiver down his spine.
"Four times defeated he shall return, great and more terrible than ever. The last battle shall ensue, and only one shall emerge the victor. As the trees become barren and the wind turns icy, let all be on their guard."
As the voice died away, Dumbledore looked up. He appeared to be staring right at Harry. When he spoke, it was only three words.
"He is coming."
At these words, Harry's scar burned and he awoke, drenched in a cold sweat and gasping for air.
Dumbledore wasn't the cause of the searing pain on Harry's forehead; it was the meaning behind the words he spoke. For the 'He' could only be one person. The most feared wizard in the last hundred years. Ruthless and terrifying, and the reason for all of Harry's nightmares. Voldemort.
A flash of lightning briefly lit Harry's room, casting ominous shadows on the wall. It was followed by a clap of thunder that shook the Dursley's house. The thunder also shook Harry out of his stupor. He had to contact someone and it had to be done right away.
Harry's mind immediately sprang to Sirius. Sirius. Even though it had been a year and a half, Harry sometimes found himself forgetting that Sirius was gone. Thinking of Sirius left Harry with an empty feeling in the pit of his stomach. He shook his head. Thinking of Sirius would do him no good right now, he had to decide who to owl.
Dumbledore? But Dumbledore was never in one place for too long; it would take Hedwig too long to find him.
"C'mon, think," Harry murmured to himself. Who could he ask for help? Someone dependable, someone trustworthy, someone who wouldn't panic. The name surfaced in Harry's mind and he latched onto it gratefully. Remus Lupin. Lupin would know what to do.
Harry grabbed a quill, a piece of parchment, and scribbled Lupin a hasty note. He was careful not to write anything that would reveal too much information, on the off chance that Hedwig would be intercepted. When he had finished, Harry read over his message.
Moony - Just had a dream. More like a vision, actually. He's back and He's coming soon. You need to contact DD. We're safe for now, but it won't be long until he attacks. And I know what I saw. The dream wasn't like the ones I had year before last. Hurry. -HP
Harry nodded, satisfied with the letter. He hoped Lupin would be able to decipher it, and he hoped more that if anyone who wasn't Lupin found it, they wouldn't be able to decipher it. He walked over to Hedwig and secured the message to her outstretched leg.
"Take this to Remus, okay?" He whispered, gently stroking her soft feathery back. Hedwig gave a muffled hoot and Harry took her to the window. He hated to send her out into this storm, but this message was too important. He didn't have time to wait for the storm to pass.
Hedwig seemed to realize that time was of the essence and didn't protest as Harry opened the window and launched her into the downpour. Harry watched nervously as his owl struggled against the wind and rain. He followed Hedwig with worried eyes, until she was lost in the unrelenting rain and wind.
Harry closed the window. He didn't want to, in case Hedwig needed to fly back in quickly, but he didn't really have a choice. The rain was blowing in through the opening, and he was beginning to get rather wet. Harry sat down on his bed, wiping the water from his face with a pajama sleeve. He'd wait for Hedwig to return; hopefully she'd be back soon carrying a letter from Remus. Harry yawned, not really wanting to go back to sleep. He was sure he'd have another nightmare. Lightning flashed again, followed by thunder. It was almost peaceful.
Harry's eyes slowly began to close and he suddenly found himself horizontal. 'Well,' he thought, ' a short nap won't hurt.' Almost before he had finished the thought, Harry Potter was snoring gently, praying for a sleep without dreams.