Chapter 4- The Dream

Later that night, Harry fell into a deep sleep…

It was the dream again…the one he had had last night…he couldn't bare it not again, not again, not again…

He woke up drenched in sweat- only to see Sirius standing above him.

"Am I still dreaming?" he asked.

"Perhaps." Was all Sirius said, as he sat down next to Harry, and lit a fire. He stared into the flames, and spoke. "I had the dream last night too."

He turned to look at him. "How-"

"It's because I'm your godfather," Sirius said, and looked at him. "Nice disguise, James would've been proud. But your makeup is wearing off, I can see your scar."

Silence, and then Sirius spoke again. "Why are you doing this?"

"I must."

"You're only 15."

"I was only one when I survived Voldemort.."

"Lily was there."

More silence.

"Sirius…d'you think you could get Hermione? And Ron? I might need them." He then violently shook his head. "No. I must do this by myself, I must, I must…."

Harry then really woke up. The sun was shining up in the sky. He looked at his watch- 9:30 am, Wednesday.

He coaxed a few coals into life, and stared into the small fire, thinking about the dream. He didn't have the part about Sirius last night- it seemed so real. He had felt the sweat, the ground below him, the fire- weren't you not supposed to feel anything in a dream?

And could Sirius really have his dreams?

Hermione would know, he thought. If I told her, she would go to the library to look it up, if she didn't already know.

He was beginning to feel a longing for friends. He wouldn't mind somebody even if it was Draco. The fact was, that Sirius was right. He had never had to do anything like this before- he had always had his mother, or Ron and Hermione, or even Fawkes with him when he faced is foes.

He sighed, and pulled out his cauldron. He had work to do.

Another cauldron boiled miles away, in a dudgeon in Hogwarts. Ron and Hermione were standing by it, with Dumbledore off to one side.

"Okay," said Ron, his arm positioned over "I'll put in Wormtail's treat, and you put on Harry's old watch on the count of three. One…two…Three!"

The treat and the watch hit the potion with a splash!, and a huge bellow of smoke rose from it. It slowly went back to the ground, and formed a perfect topographical map of the country side surrounding Hogwarts. A red dot and a silver dot quickly lighted up in a forest.

Dumbledore looked at the two adjacent dots. "That must be them," he said.

"How far away is that?" asked Hermione.

"About 60 miles. Now you two listen to me very closely." Dumbledore looked at them with a grave look. 'I need you to go to him."

"But Professor- why?" Hermione sputtered.

"Professor Trewlaney's first prediction:

'It will happen in the 5th year, The one-who-lived will disappear. His friend will go to him, with advice from a friend, and then he will succeed his task.'

"I've been thinking about that for 14 years, ever since Harry became the boy who lived. And I think the time is imminent when you must go."

Ron and Hermione stared at him. Had the Professor gone mad? Or maybe placed under an impervious spell?

Dumbledore smiled a little. "He's going to need your help. Go."

Ron and Hermione finally nodded, and walked away.

Harry whipped his head around- he had heard something in the bush next to him.

It was probably a rabbit. Or maybe a squirrel, he thought to himself. Nothing to worry about. He resumed brewing his face altering potion again. A few minuets pasted.

A loud snap! Came from the same bush, and Harry quickly turned around, whipped out his wand, and faced the unmoving shubbery.

It was just a squirrel, it was just a squirrel, he told the adrenaline pumping through his veins, and turned back to the potion.

Then, an almighty sound of cracking sticks filled the air. Harry barely had time to react before he felt himself grabbed, and all went black.

He opened his eyes a little, and quickly shut them. His hands and feet were throbbing, and he could feel ropes that felt strangely like his invisibility cloak around his wrists and ankles. His head quietly complained about being split in half.

He opened his eyes again, and looked around. He was in a small, gray room, with a thin window carved into one wall, and no doors.

Wonder how I got in here, he thought dully.

He looked himself over. He seemed to be bound to a chair, with water colored ropes around his ankles.

With a shock, he realized that he was no longer in muggle clothes, and dressed in fancy, black dress robes. He body also seemed to be back to normal, and his glasses were on. He was back to normal, which meant that it was anywhere past 7:30 PM, Thursday.

He barely had time to ponder this, when a person appeared in the room.

"You!" Harry yelled.