Harry Potter a
rather interesting boy, lay asleep in his bed. Tossing and turning and
whimpering soft words into the night.
"Stop," Harry
spoke as he restlessly turned over to one side, "It hurts so much."
An elegant feather floated softly
from above his head and landed on his cheek. He's restlessness stopped
and he remained still and silent.
"Poor little boy,"
A female voice said slowly descending upon his wooden floor, in the smallest
bedroom on Number 4 Privet Drive, "Your memories still haunt you, of what
happened that night, and it's my fault." The sound of her weeping echoed
softly through the room.
A pair of invisible
arms lifted the sleeping boy out of his bed, even though he was now almost
fifteen he still remained rather small for his age.
"I'm so sorry
young Harry," the voice said again, she was still crying, even though her
body could not be seen a silver tear slipped down her cheek and caught
the moonlight like a golden beam, "It's all my fault."
The silver tear
fell from the cheek of the invisible woman and landed gently on Harry's
eye, "Now you will not remember that dream," the voice said laying him
back down to sleep, "Sleep now my baby. I will come again."
Her voice vanished
and Harry's dream disappeared in his mind. The feather still remained on
his bedroom floor, and would remain there untouched until morning when
Harry himself awoke from his dreamless sleep.