Chapter 3: Sweet Dreams

After dinner of roast chicken and warm apple pie, Harry, Ron and Hermione walked through the cool halls of Hogwarts, through the portrait of the Fat Lady, and settled down in the Gryffindor common room for a game of Exploding Snap. While playing, Harry forgot about all his worries, problems and complications that were swarming in his head. He lost all sense of time and of the world around him. And for the first time in months, he laughed, a true, genuine laugh. Hermione and Ron were thrilled to see him acting normal, acting like he had for as long as they've known him. He seemed… himself. The happy, brave boy who was not afraid to face his worst fears. He acted as if he had just woken up from a bad dream. After countless rounds of Exploding Snap, Hermione settled down in an over-stuffed chair to finish her Transfiguration assignment, and Harry and Ron sat by the roaring fire, playing a game of wizard chess. Time quickly passed for all of them, as they failed to notice as the common room began to thin with people. At 11 o'clock, Hermione looked up from the endless books and papers that scattered the table and gave a sigh.

"We should all be getting ready for bed. We have an early morning tomorrow; Hagrid's expecting us at his hut for breakfast at 7. You two really should get to bed and get some sleep."

"Aw, Hermione, we were just starting a game of chess. Besides, Hagrid's –"

"Expecting us to be at his house. And I don't think you want to disappoint him, now do you?"  The two boys gave each other questionable looks.

"Uh, Hermione, you do know that Hagrid's, well… not exactly a morning person. He usually wakes up at 12… the earliest."

"Oh, Harry, that's besides the point. You would wake up too if you had guests coming. He told me that he was going to make an excellent breakfast for all of us. " Yet again, the boys gave questionable looks. The sound of Hagrid making food didn't sound too appealing to both of them, even Hermione. But she was determined to make Hagrid feel good, as well has Harry; even if it meant eating inedible food or starving until lunch. As Hermione sat, wondering if she could really stand the taste of Hagrid's food, she heard Ron's voice coming from the fireplace.

"Uh, Hermione, have you tasted Hagrid's cooking? It's unbearable. We could go down to the Great Hall, grab some good breakfast and get to Hagrids, only ten minutes late," said Ron as he munched on a chocolate frog.

"Ohmygod! What idiots!" Hermione muttered under her breath. "It doesn't matter. Stay up as late as you want. Just remember, I'm dragging all of you out of bed at 6:30 sharp. And no, Ron. I will not let you go and get some good breakfast. You're going to eat Hagrid's food so you don't make him feel bad about himself. We're all going to eat it, whether you like it or not," she said with a snap. Before heading up the stairs, she turned and faced her two friends, still sitting by the fire with stunned expressions painted over their faces. Before she could stop herself, or think about what she was about to say, two, unspeakable words came flowing out of her mount. "Sweet dreams." With those words, Harry's mind stabbed painfully back into reality. All his old worries and fears swept over him, slowly trickling through every vein in his body. His face grew cold and his body stiff. His head swirled and his vision blurred. Harry reached up and cradled his head in his hands, muttering inaudible words under his breath. Ron looked at him, sensing the change in Harry. He opened his mouth to speak, but quickly closed it. He was unsure of what to say and how his friend would react. Pushing his doubt away, Ron quietly said,

"Hermione's right, you know. We really should get some sleep. Especially you. We're gonna have an early morning. You know Hermione's gonna drag our asses out of bed at 6:30 sharp. There's no use arguing with her. And unless you want to drink one of Hagrid's special concoctions that he probably invented himself, you'd better look and act like you got some sleep. And you might wanna get ready just a tad bit earlier, just to grab something proper to eat." Ron rolled his eyes, knowing that, no matter what happened, Harry would probably be up all night. Checking to see if Harry was listening to him, he continued. "Do you still have the potion Hermione gave you?" Harry gave no reply, but slowly shifted his eyes to Ron's, with a piercing gaze of fear. Ron quickly dropped the subject and they finished their game of chess in silence. Before Ron went to bed, he made sure Harry had drunk every last drop of the sleeping potion. With that, the two boys, now all alone in the common room, headed up the staircase to their dormitories.

*           *           *           *           *

 Harry sat wide awake in his four post bed, listening to the sounds to the deep breathing and snoring coming from the sleeping boys. After making sure that everyone had fallen asleep, Harry silently lifted his body out of bed and glided to his trunk. He unlatched the lid and pulled his invisibility cloak out from its hiding place. As quiet and a ghost, and unseen by no one, Harry walked silently through the shadow-covered halls of Hogwarts. With every turn, a new fear and anxiety filled Harry. Though covered by the invisibility cloak, he felt unseen eyes, following his every move. He looked up and down the long, stone hallways of the school, trying to catch a glimpse or sound of an approaching teacher, forgetting that he was hidden by his cloak. He quickly entered the classroom and moved towards the statue of the one-eyed witch

"Dissendium!" Harry whispered, tapping the stone witch with his wand. The statue's hump opened to reveal a dark passageway leading to the cellar of Honeydukes. He climbed into the passage, careful not to band his head on the low ceiling.

"Lumos!" a small but bright light that came from the tip of his wand quickly traveled through the narrow passage as Harry stumbled across the many twists and turns. After what seemed like forever, Harry reached the trap door leading to the cellar of the famous candy shop. With his feet quieted by the thick layers of dust on the old, wooden floor, Harry dashed up the stairs, through the empty store and entered the dimly lit streets of Hogsmeade. Once on the streets, Harry unveiled himself, and carefully folded his precious cloak into a tight ball. He slowly walked along the many rows of shops, passing Dervish and Banges and Zonko's Joke Shop along the way, as he caught his breath and whipped the sweat from his eyes. Suddenly, he felt more vulnerable. As if all the unseen shadows of the world were pressing their beady, glazed eyes at him. He walked through the town streets, shifting his blazing green eyes back and forth, looking at everyone, feeling their presence around him. After wandering aimlessly for quite some time, Harry silently slipped into The Three Broomsticks and ordered a warm butterbeer. He sat down in the dark corner and listened to the drunken talk of the other men around him. He silently sipped the warm, sweet liquid, felling calm and relaxed as the feeling washed over his body and slid down his throat. As he sat, all alone, his head began to pound profusely, despite the sweet sensation that had filled his head moments before. His eyes heavy from the lack of sleep he had not received all week, burned in their sockets. Harry closed his lids and let his mind drift to another world.

He is at Hogwarts. He is sitting besides the roaring fireplace in the Gryffendor common room. Hermione and Ron sit beside him, all on plush, red couches. Ron gets up. He lifts the warm Trickle fudge from beside the hearth. He hands a generous piece to Hermione, then to Harry. He smiles at his friends. Ron grabs some fudge for himself. Ron sits beside them. He hears Ron and Hermione laughing merrily. They take a huge bite of the warm, chewy fudge. Harry opens his mouth to eat. He chews happily. The taste of warm fudge mixes in with blood. Harry opens his mouth. His bleeding lip slightly stings. Hermione gasps. Ron drops the fudge.

A crash was heard in the back of Harry's mind. His eyes flew open and landed upon a young, slender woman lying on her back as a puddle of red glistening with broken pieces of glass surrounds her. He quickly realized that she had knocked over her drink when she fell. He sat there, watching her, as her drunken body twitched like a crushed spider, dying a cold, slow death. He realized that in her drunken state, she was unaware of the harsh, cruel reality that was her meaningless life. Harry drained the glass of its liquid, which no longer gave him warmth and comfort from his chaotic life. He got up and silently glided out the door, ignoring the many stares and whispers of the hags and vampires around him. Once outside, the cool breeze sliced at his delicate skin like knives. He quickly walked back to Honeydukes, fearing that, if he stayed out in the cold, the wind would cut his skin and he would slowly bleed to death. He entered the store, trampled down to the cellar and proceeded, for what seemed like a short distance, back to the classroom with the one-eyed witch. Once back inside the school walls, Harry walked uneasily to the Gryffindor Tower, aware of the tiredness that was spilling into his mind. Out of his tired and confused state, Harry failed to drape his invisibility cloak around him, exposing himself to the watchful eyes of the many paintings that hung on the walls of Hogwarts. As Harry climbed the twisting and changeable stairs, he overheard a whispered conversation among the portraits.

"The end is near. He will soon be gone."

"And what of the boy?"

"His fate is already decided."

"Tomorrow. We shall see."

"May they be kind to him."

Harry paid little attention to the rumors floating among the gossiping portraits. They were known for spreading rumors and speaking of prophecies yet to come. He reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, who was peacefully sleeping in the bottom left corner. Harry gazed at her as she woke up.

"You shouldn't be out, dear," the Fat Lady said with a yawn. Harry muttered the password and entered the Gryffendor common room, relieved that no one was in sight. Once inside, Harry noted the few rays spilling into the dark and chasing the shadows away. As he stared into the light, the whispers from the portraits penetrated his mind. What were they talking about? Who was the boy? Harry pondered these questions, but was unable to explain any of them due to his state of mind. He turned his gaze from the window and climbed up the stairs to his dorm, once in a while crashing in to the cold wall due to his instability. He felt all sense drain from him with every step he took. When he was about to open the door, he realized the scenery around him had changed. Harry was amazed that he did not find this alarming, for he knew exactly where he was.

"Sweet dreams," he whispered hoarsely, as he drew out his wand and carefully stepped into the darkness.