A/N: I'll be leaving for Lake Tahoe on June 29 for a family reunion, and won't get back until the 6th of July, so this will be the last update until I get back, unless my Mom let's me use her laptop.  I hope you enjoy this chapter, and thanks for the reviews!

Hidden Visions, Hidden Truth: Chapter 4

     Harry couldn't sleep at all that night.  All he could think about was Sirius and Remus, with the occasional appearance of his friends.  He wondered if his friends knew about the tragic death of Sirius and Remus.  They must know…the Daily Prophet is always up-to-date with news from the wizarding world.  Then he wondered if his friends knew about where he was going to live…who he was going to live with.  I don't think the Daily Prophet posts news like that, he thought with a shudder.  Even if Hermione did trap that Rita Skeeter at the end of the 4th year, he couldn't help thinking about Rita breaking free, and writing nasty rumor stories about him.  He could just imagine what Rita would write if she found he was going to live at Snape's house…that wasn't a pleasant thought for him.  Then he imagined stepping on Rita when she's in beetle form…that cheered him up mostly.

     It was about 6:30 when Snape entered, and told him to get ready to leave. 

     "Why do we have to leave so early?" Harry asked as he got out of bed. 

     "If we want to get there by nightfall, chances are that it will be better to leave now," Snape explained, and started to leave when Harry asked him something.

     "Just answer me this question: can Voldemort kill me in my dreams?  Can my dreams go both way: can they be a tracking device, and a portal so Voldemort can enter my dreams?"  Harry waited eagerly for the answer, but he didn't get any answer.

     "Potter, you don't want to know that" was all Snape could manage.  In fact, he had talked to Dumbledore, and Dumbledore stated that each time Harry had a dream, a "vision", that Voldemort could enter, and take some of Harry's life away.  For some strange reason, though, Voldemort can't kill Harry in the dreams, just make him weaker and weaker until there's almost no life in him, and no strength for Harry to kill Voldemort.  For the first time in his life, Snape was deeply confused.

     Harry was almost ready when 7:00 rolled around.  Snape, growing impatient by the minute, decided to get the brooms ready.  "Where's your broom, Potter?" He asked.

     "I thought we were going by Floo powder or something," Harry muttered as he got his Firebolt.  "Here," he said, showing Snape his broom.

     "You'd think I'd risk the fact that the Dark Lord himself might be using Floo powder, too, out there somewhere.  If we happened to use Floo the same time he does, we might cross paths," Snape answered as he took Harry's broom.

     "Sir, what about my owl?" Harry asked earnestly.

     "I've taken care of that, Potter.  You precious owl should be at my house right now," Snape answered.

     "And—and what's with the books?"  Harry asked again.  He and Snape left the Hospital Room, and were now walking down the stairs of the Entrance Hall.  "I mean, school doesn't start until the 1st of September.  We'll get back in time for school."

     "Potter, chances are that you may not get out as much during summer.  In case that you should, in any way, not be able to return in time when school starts, you will be home schooled by me."

     Harry accidentally dropped his trunk when he heard what Snape said.  The trunk pummeled down the staircase, leaving a long echo that stretched throughout the castle.  "Sorry," Harry apologized hurriedly as he scrambled to get his suitcase.  "I thought I saw something," he lied, and continued down the stairs with his suitcase.

     Once Harry and Snape were outside, Harry realized how much he was going to miss Hogwarts.  His school was home to him.  Snape's house was foreign and doubted that he would feel right away comfortable at Snape's house.

     "So, if we're getting there by brooms, how am I going to carry my trunk along with it?  It's too heavy," Harry announced as he set his trunk down on the ground.

     "You'll enchant your luggage.  That's simple, even for you, isn't it, Potter?"

     Harry sighed.  "Just give me my broom back," he demanded.  Snape gave the broom back to Harry, and retrieved his own broom, which was lying on the ground next to Snape's feet.

     "Wingardium leviosa!" Harry shouted, his wand out and pointed at the trunk.  "There." He grinned, and slipped his wand into his pocket.  His trunk was now floating above the ground eerily, as Harry wondered how to make it follow him.  "Um, do you have any rope?"

     Snape looked back at Harry, and sneered.

     Harry took in Snape's sneer, and defined it that he would have to get his own rope.  "Fine," he muttered, looking to the ground.  Getting out his wand, he chanted a spell, and rope came flying out of the tip of his wand, coiling on the ground like a brown snake.  Hurriedly, he tied one end of the rope to his trunk, and the other to the back of his broom.  "Okay, there," he said to himself as he put his wand away again, and got on his broom.

     "So where is your house?" Harry asked Snape as they both simultaneously rose up in the air.

     His question went unanswered.

     Harry figured that they must have been flying for at least five hours, because the sun was high up in the sky, almost burning the back of Harry's neck.  He desperately wished for some sunscreen as they passed a large group of trees below.  They were far out of Muggle territory, Snape warning him, though, whenever they neared a city.  A few times during the journey Harry looked back over his shoulder to see if his trunk was still secure, imagining what would happen if the rope unraveled from the trunk and floated through a city full of curious Muggles.

     "Are we there yet?" Harry thought aloud.   Again, his question was unanswered.

     After ten minutes, Snape warned him that they were nearing Muggle territory again.  They rose above the clouds again, Harry desperately wishing that they could land.

     "Explain to me about these dreams you have," Snape asked unexpectedly.

     Harry's thoughts were penetrated as he looked to Snape.  "Why do you want to know?" He asked.  "Why do you suddenly care about me?" he added bitterly.

     "Unless you explain to me about the dreams, Potter, you may never be cured of them," Snape replied with a tone halfway beyond Harry's.

     "Well," Harry sighed, and looked down at the ground, except the ground, the Earth, was covered by the white-foam clouds.  "Every dream starts off the same way: I appear there…in the graveyard where he was killed.  The Death Eaters are always there, surrounding me, along with Wormtail and Voldemort.  And he's always there, standing besides me.  I try to warn him…but somehow…" Harry shook his head, his eyes watering.  "I warn him, but it's still too late.  As he falls to the ground, Voldemort stands there, laughing.  All I can think if it will be me next time.  Voldemort haunts my dreams…he's there every time I close my eyes…it's like…it's like he's sucking the life out of me."  

     "Has the Dark Lord ever used the Crutatious curse on you?"

     Bewilderment fell upon Harry's face, and Snape added, "In your dream."

     "No…" Harry sighed.  "Well…a couple times he has.  The way Voldemort uses the curse on me in my dream feels so real."

     "And have you ever succeeded in saving Diggory?"  Harry didn't answer Snape's question, leaving Snape to guess that, in Harry's dream, he had never succeeded in saving Cedric.

     At least two minutes passed before Harry asked, "Are we there yet?"