Chapter Eleven -- Dreams
"Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son!"
Dust rising before his eyes, Harry moaned to himself at the thought of watching all of it happen again. Countless times for two years he had watched the rebirth of Voldemort. The dust fell into the cauldron, and the substance inside hissed wildly. A poisonous blue….
"Flesh of the servant, willingly given, you will revive your master!"
A dagger was held high, and a sudden scream as the knife was plunged into the wrist. Sawing…cut…agony…Harry watched it all. He closed his eyes and took deep breaths. He had gone through this before; he could do it again. He didn't have to do anything. Just watch, and it would soon be over….
"Blood of the enemy, forcibly taken, you will resurrect your foe!"
Bleeding. Now Harry was bleeding along with the servant. He winced only for a second, then returned to his calming breaths, just trying to stop his heart from beating at what seemed to be a dangerous pace. And the same thought that had passed through his mind years ago raised itself again. Please, let it have drowned. Let it have gone wrong....
Yet despite his inner pleas, the mist rose and the figure triumphantly emerged from the cauldron. The same voice, dripping with evil, said, "Robe me," and the servant which had willingly cut off his own hand whimpered while putting on the heavy black cloak.
Something was wrong. Something was different about this dream. Harry had it memorized. The eyes were supposed to be a burning blood red, a flat snake-like nose, and he was supposed to be whiter than a skull…. It was not Voldemort. Something was so wrong that Harry began to shake, almost violently, from the ideas that passed throughout his mind, though none of them made any sense whatsoever.
"My Lord..." the servant forced out of his tight throat, "my Lord...you promised...you did promise..."
Hold out your arm, Harry recited in his mind. He knew the script. He knew exactly what as to be said.
"Hold out your arm," the newly revived man replied in a lazy manner.
"Oh Master...thank you, Master..." He held out the bleeding stump.
The other arm, Wormtail, Harry thought. He's going to signal to the Death Eaters...see who is loyal after all the years....
The remade man wiggled his fingers over the man's stump, and a new hand appeared. The man with the new hand kissed the giver's hem of his robes.
"Thank you, sir, it's beautiful!"
Harry cocked his neck. It wasn't supposed to happen this way. Something seriously wrong. There were no Death Eaters. There was no burning sensation in his forehead. His scar wasn't burning....
The giver looked at Harry with his black eyes. He smiled a crooked grin, his lips thin, but a scarlet red. The color of his face was slightly green, as if he was nauseated. He stepped closer, or rather, floated over, because as Harry got a closer look, he realized that the man's feet, if he had any, were not touching the ground. The sinking fear that Harry had felt two years ago reentered his stomach.
"Harry Potter. My good friend."
"Never," Harry replied to the sick-looking man.
He laughed in response. "Of course you're my friend! Always have been. Oh Harry, why are you scared? There's no reason!" A cackle escaped his throat. "Oh come now, Harry Potter, don't you recognize me?"
Harry shook his head. "You're not Voldemort."
"Of course not, Harry. I'm powerful, unlike that Voldemort." He tsked as if he were disappointed. "Honestly, I don't understand how that thing could possibly be considered evil. He was a teddy-bear!" The evil smirk appeared again. "No Harry, I will be filling your dreams now. I am Lord Kotu."
Harry didn't know what to say; he didn't know this script.
"Most powerful wizard now, Harry. Even Professor Albus Dumbledore cannot compare."
It only took a few seconds, but suddenly Harry saw a vision in his mind. It was Kotu, standing over Dumbledore, and Dumbledore was cowering...pleading...dying.
And he suddenly knew.
"Neville?!"
"Neville Longbottom was a stupid baboon," Kotu spat with distaste. "I am brilliant. I will rule!" He smirked. "But what do you say to some revenge first? Crucio!"
Harry woke up.
^*^*^
"Harry? Oh Harry, what happened?" Ginny squeaked as Harry walked down the spiral staircase to the common room. "You look as though you've been hit by the Knight Bus!"
"Gee, thanks." He rubbed his pounding head and collapsed into a large chair in front of a burning fireplace. "How much longer until Christmas?"
Ginny smiled. "One month from today. Harry, what's wrong?"
He shook his head and curled into a fetal position on the chair, Ginny sitting on the floor looking up at him, clearly worried. She looked around the chair to see if she could spot Hermione or Ron, but both were clearly still asleep: it was early morning after all.
They sat together, not saying a word. The fire slowly began to burn out, but a house-elf suddenly appeared to keep it going. He bowed at Harry and Ginny before leaving them alone again, except for the few second-years that were giggling in a corner.
"I want to tell," Harry suddenly said quietly, so only Ginny could hear. She looked at him, with a small grin of triumph on her face.
"Go ahead, Harry."
He told her everything. He told her what he felt about Sirius and Remus' arrest, about how strange Ruby was, about how he just knew Snape had it in for him this year, and most importantly, the dream. She listened to every word without interrupting and held his hand when he was about to cry.
"Well," he sighed at the end, "that's it."
Ginny just nodded and took it all in. "Harry, tell Dumbledore about the dream."
He shook his head. "No. I can't. How can I tell him that I saw an illusion of him dying?"
"Just say it. Don't be embarrassed, Harry. He needs to know what you see. It could prevent whatever is coming. Because what is coming sounds dangerous. Even disastrous."
He cocked his head.
"If Neville is going to be more powerful than Voldemort," Ginny explained, surprising Harry with the use of the name, "than the results could be catastrophic. The death tolls would be unbelievable. If you can vision Kotu killing Albus Dumbledore, then there's no telling what he can do. You need to talk to Dumbledore, Harry. Your dreams have never steered you wrong before, have they?"
Harry shook his head and curled up tighter in the crook of the chair. "Ginny? Promise you won't tell anyone what I'm about tell you?"
"Of course, Harry."
He sighed, closed his eyes and whispered. "I don't think I'm going to make it. Ginny, I'm scared."
^*^*^
"My name is Frank Longbottom. Your regular teacher, Professor Lupin, is preoccupied at this current moment and I have offered to fill in for him while he is away. I may work differently than him, but I am always open for suggestions because, honestly, I've never taught before and I hear Professor Lupin is an excellent teacher." The class murmured agreements and Frank smiled. "Great. Well, I suppose we should just dive right in.... What have you studied so far?"
Hermione's hand shot in the air and Frank nodded.
"Yes, Miss--"
"Hermione Granger," she replied. "We've studied Manticores, Kaapas--"
"Animals?" Frank asked, slightly taken back.
"Mostly, sir," Hermione nodded.
Frank nodded. "Well, then, you can all close your books. I am going to teach you things that you will definitely need during these times. Anyone wish to volunteer?" No one raised his or her hand, to Frank's dismay. "Anyone? Please?"
"I'll do it," Harry offered, deciding that he might as well learn everything he can as quickly as possible when it came to defending himself.
"Wonderful. And you are--?"
A few people snickered, but Frank kept staring at Harry, wanting an answer just like any other student would have to supply.
"Harry Potter, sir," Harry replied.
"Alright, Mister Potter, why don't you stand over here, yes, just like that, and I'll stand over here, and, yes, that should be fine. Now, class, let us say that I was going to attack Mister Potter here with, oh let's say...let's be simple and say the full-body-bind which is...anyone remember?"
Several hands flew into the air.
"Yes! You, right there, Mister..."
"Dean Thomas, sir," Dean said promptly. "Petrificus totalus, sir."
"Good! Five points to Gryffindor. And, oh Miss Granger, I didn't give you points did I? Ah, well another five points for you too. Right! Now, Harry, I want you to ward off the spell, okay? Can you do that? I know most of you must know this but it's just a little review! Now, are you ready Harry? Good! Now, Petrificus totalus!"
Harry fell hard on the ground, causing Slytherins to cackle with laughter and the Gryffindors to glare back at them. Frank looked at him, concerned.
"Harry, what happened? You were supposed to say the counter curse!" Unable to say anything, Frank said, "Finite Incartium!" and Harry jumped up.
"I don't know the counter curse, sir," he answered.
Frank blinked at him. "What? Harry Potter doesn't know counter curses? I find that hard to believe."
"I don't know it, sir," Harry growled.
Taken back with surprise, Frank hesitated before continuing. "Harry, I hope you are not embarrassed when I say this in front of your peers, but considering your past and, I dare say, your future, I want you to come in every Friday night to practice curses and counter curses. You, over anyone, need to know them."
The Slytherins roared with laughter, except for Draco, and Harry glared at them.
"Enough!" Frank yelled. "Twenty points from Slytherin for being immature brats. And Harry," he said, turning to the red cheeked boy, "I'll see you Friday night."
^*^*^
"Every Friday night," Harry moaned. "Seems nice, but I'd much rather being doing this with Remus."
"But you can't. So you might as well take what you can get."
Ron rolled his eyes. "Is happiness ever an issue for you, Hermione?"
She glared at him. "I know I'd be a tad happier knowing that Harry could defend himself better than he could before."
"Fine. But what about Harry's happiness? He and I were getting into a rhythm with having a game of chess every night."
"Well, the rhythm is about to be broken, isn't it?"
"You know what, Hermione?" Ron said, his voice growing louder, "I don't think you care about other people's happiness. All you care about is learning!" His eyes flashed at her and he stopped walking so he could point a finger and give her his full-blown lecture. "Well maybe Harry's just fine! He's smart! Who cares if he's not as wonderful and brilliant as you are? Just get off his back!"
Mouth gaping, Hermione stared at Ron with shock and a bit of anger. "I do care about Harry's happiness! But I also care about whether or not he lives to see tomorrow!" she screamed back. "And I also think that you care more about having fun than studying things that could save a life!" With that, she stormed off.
Harry took a glance at Ron and a slightly spiteful tone, said, "Now do you think she needs to sort her priorities?"
Ron just glared back at him.