Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or the world of Harry Potter. I am writing this for my own pleasure. I also don't own the song lyrics to "Imaginary" by Evanescence, as I am the most horrible poetry writer in the world, and could never be capable of writing something like that.
Dreams
He was passing through the familiar rooms of the Department of Mysteries. He was moving toward the Chamber of Death. He was just at the door....reaching for the latch....lifting it the slightest bit....and open! He quietly nudged the solid mahogany away until he could fit himself through the space he had just cleared between the two rooms. He looked around the room once until….there it was. The veil.
He walked to that corner of the room as fast as his feet could take him. He didn't care anymore about keeping quiet. He had to get to that veil, no matter what. It was like one of those slow motion time frames of those muggle movies he had rarely seen as a kid. He was just steps away from the veil, so close that he could see its weavings, until…
The new wizarding version of an alarm clock that Hermione had given him for Christmas rang. It would scream into the ear of the person it had been given to without disturbing anyone else, as it had been personalized. She had been thinking of what she thought he needed, as she always did. He had been sleeping very late over the last year, from his few slip-ups with Occlumency dreams, to the overload of work that was given to him daily. His training, his schoolwork, his N.E.W.T. preparations….Oh no! Today was the first day of N.E.W.T.s!
He looked back at the alarm clock that he had just pounded his fist on. He wished that she didn't put Unbreakable and anti-Silencing Charms on it. It read blurrily as 7:30 in a wizard-like scrawl. Just enough time to get down to the Great Hall for breakfast and be dressed in time. He slowly rose from his bed, let out a groan-like yawn and looked around to the other beds. No one else was there, it seemed as if Ron wanted to leave Harry alone, and the others wanted to get some extra studying done.
He trudged wearily to the bathroom mumbling to himself about going to bed earlier, when at the doorway…..Harry! Harry stopped abruptly. He thought he had heard Sirius's voice, but that was crazy. He still missed Sirius, but that still didn't change that he had been dead for two years. He shook his head and went into the bathroom. He started to brush his teeth, when…..Department of Mysteries!
He spit out his toothpaste foam right then. He didn't have to even ask. He knew that this was it. Voldemort was waiting for him.
I linger in the doorway
Of alarm clock screaming
Monsters calling my name
He cleaned himself free of any toothpaste residue, and stood at the doorway for fresh air. This was it. His worst nightmare was coming true right then. He took a deep breath. He knew nothing would prepare him for the kind of pressure he was about to undergo. Saving the world isn't something that you can be truly ready for. He knew that.
Let me stay
Where the wind will whisper to me
Where the raindrops as they're falling tell a story
A pit in his stomach became much deeper and horribly painful with each breath he took. As much as he wanted to just go back to bed and stay in his dream of the veil that he rarely ever had, he wanted to get this done. No more talk of Voldemort or the Death Eaters. Nothing. He looked to the window. The rain was quiet and calming. And then a big thunder cracked! outside. The storm was telling the story of his life.
In my field of paper flowers
And candy clouds of lullaby
I lie inside myself for hours
And watch my purple sky fly over me
This wasn't peaches and cream for him. Those very few dreams he did have about the veil were his only source of imagination. He lived to just see a glimpse of the veil, even if it wasn't good for him….
Don't say I'm out of touch
With this rampant chaos-your reality
I know well what lies beyond my sleeping refuge
The nightmare I built my own world to escape
He was often treated differently by the other students, especially over the last two years. They thought of him as a different person, impaired to their own kind of world. They would barely regard him, or praise him highly as if he was a hero, the latter very rare. He didn't like to be different, but he was mostly likely "out of touch" to them.
But this was the real world. This sadness, the war, all of this violence. His dreams were his only escape to this life and prophecy.
Swallowed up in the sound of my own screaming
Cannot cease for the fear of silent nights
Oh how I long for the deep sleep dreaming
The goddess of imaginary light
He would sometimes just want to let out all of his secrets and feelings through screaming. It would make him feel normal and new. He didn't want to stop, for silence would open up many opportunities for chaos. He yearned for that and to dream about the veil….for it would give him a new escape in the sense of creativity.
A/N: Okay, I am terribly sorry if you didn't get that. But that is that. Did you like? Not? For now, it's a one-shot, but if you guys want more, I'll be happy to give you more. And if you didn't pick up on it, it was seventh year…..