SEQ CHAPTER \h \r 1Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters in this
story. The only thing I own is the plot, Harry's snake, and the song in this
story (except for the first verse, that's Peeves').
A/N: WARNING: This chapter has another one of Harry's 'depressing' dreams in it. I suggest that if you don't like them, fast forward the italicized part (if the italics actually worked). Also, it's pretty gory and bloody again.
A/N: Thanks to PheonixMan, JadeLMSkywalker,
jen c, Celtic55 (thanks for reviewing all 3
chapters), & Facade1 (thanks for
your idea). Keep up the reviews. I love you all!
Chapter 4: Oh, Potter, You Rotter
The next few days went by
relatively uneventful for Harry. Each day Harry awoke from a new wave of nightmares,
showered, went downstairs and had breakfast among the Dursley's
glares, went back upstairs to read till lunchtime, did his chores for the day
outside with his still unnamed snake, had dinner, went back upstairs and read
until he fell into a not-so-peaceful sleep.
Right now, Harry was outside
with his snake comfortably wrapped around his wrist, mowing the lawn. He was
thinking about returning to Hogwarts. A day after his birthday, when he was
cleaning all of the wrapping paper from his presents, Harry came across his
Hogwarts letter and noticed he hadn't opened it yet. He had gotten his O.W.L.
scores and done fairly well--10 O.W.L.s. No doubt
Hermione's influence was to blame for that. He was both relieved and
disappointed when he found that he only got an 'Exceeds Expectation' in
Potions. He was relieved because he wouldn't need to take Snape's
class anymore and disappointed because to be an auror
he needed to be in the N.E.W.T.s Potions class. 'Oh
well,' Harry thought 'there's always professional Quidditch'.
Speaking of Quidditch, Harry was extremely happy to
notice that Professor McGonagall made him captain of the Quidditch
team. He had even gotten a red badge with a golden lion in the center of it
with a large 'C' on it. The letter said he was to wear it on the Quidditch pitch. His uniform had also been altered and
three gold stripes where added to it on Harry's upper arms.
By the time Harry finished
the lawn, his legs were aching. Harry heavily trudged up the stairs and went
directly into the shower. Letting the
hot water beat on his painful back, Harry relaxed and let his shoulders droop.
Today had been extra stressful. He had slept for an hour but awoken from a
nightmare about Sirius again. Preferring not to sleep altogether, Harry had
just stayed up all night reading Hermione's book which Harry found out was
actually very interesting and informative despite its rather comical title.
Harry had also stayed up and talked to his snake and learned more about him. He
found that talking to him was very fun because of the snake's sarcastic manner.
Harry could get things off his chest without worrying about other people
finding out exactly what he was thinking. Harry liked that the snake wasn't
prejudiced, because it didn't know any better, so Harry received a different
point of view that he sometimes had never thought about before. Of course, this
was also frustrating sometimes. It was always both comical and annoying trying
to explain to the snake about simple things like what Coca Cola was and why people
shampooed their hair.
Lazily getting out of the
shower and putting on some of Dudley's old massive sized sweat pants and a Quidditch t-shirt that he bought at Hogsmead
last year, Harry went back into his room to read a little more. Getting out his
Quidditch book which was about Seekers and legal
strategies they could use successfully in a game, Harry began to read where he
had left off in the section about feints. Reading for no more than twenty minutes, Harry started
noticing the prickling in his eyes that always came when he was sleepy. He took
off his glasses and started rubbing his eyes wearily. He didn't want to sleep.
He didn't want to see his godfather's face when he fell through the veil, or
Cedric's surprised expression, or his mother and father protecting Harry and
ending their promising life early so their infant boy could live. With a
frustrated sigh, Harry went back to his book but could only manage reading two
lines before his eyes drifted closed and he was once more plunged into the horrendous
world of nightmares.
~*~*~*~
Harry was once more at Hogwarts. He was being pulled again by the invisible force. With a sinking heart, Harry noticed he was involuntarily headed towards the Great Hall once more. This time, Harry tried everything possible to resist the pull, but to no avail. When the force stopped pulling him at the large oak doors of the Great Hall, Harry, knowing what was coming, tried turning around so he wouldn't have to face the inevitable but, again, he wasn't able to move. Faintly, off through the doors, Harry heard a bone-chilling voice singing:
"Oh, Potter, you rotter, oh, what have you done,
You're killing off students, you think it's good fun -"
But when the door banged
open on its own account with a loud *boom*t, Harry knew it wasn't zany Peeves
who was singing this time. It couldn't have been Peeves, for he, as well as the
other Hogwarts ghosts, were all hanging by a faintly visible cord attached to
their ankles from the Great Hall ceiling that was, again, reflecting a dark and
stormy sky with the ghastly, green Dark Mark plastered among the swirling,
angry-looking clouds. The ghosts looked almost like Nearly Headless Nick did
when he was petrified in Harry's second year; no longer pearly-white and
transparent, but black, smoky and almost dense. All of the ghosts of the four
houses were there, even some he'd never seen. Moaning Myrtle's glasses were
missing and Nearly Headless Nick's head was hanging by a thin strand of skin.
The cold disembodied voice that caused Harry a chill that penetrated through
his bones, was still singing:
"Oh, Potter, you rotter, you're to blame,
Everyone's dead; still think it's a
game?"
Harry shivered hearing
these words that were obviously not being sung by Peeves. Looking around the
hall, he noticed that all of the bodies were still there. Knowing from
experience now that there was no escape until he woke up, Harry started the
age-old trick of pinching himself. With a sinking heart, Harry realized he
still didn't wake up. Looking across the hall, Harry, once more, saw
Dumbledore's accusing dull eyes staring at him; it seemed like they were
following his every move. Starting to panic, Harry lifted up his right pant leg
and grabbed a rather sharp bread knife he found on the littered floor of the
Great Hall. Harry stabbed himself lightly enough not to cause any major blood
loss, but hard enough to hurt and break the skin. He hissed, and looked around
himself to see if he woke up yet, but to no avail. Meanwhile, the mysterious voice
kept singing:
"Oh, Potter, you rotter, you better run fast,
The Dark Lord will get you, and make sure
you're last."
Harry tried to avert his
eyes, but they kept trailing back to the bodies lying across the vast stone
Great Hall floor. Looking down at his feet, Harry jumped back quickly. Right
where his feet used to stand, Harry noticed a girl's head he recognized as
Susan Bones. Shaking his head and taking long, shallow breaths to try to calm
down, Harry tried to ignore the sting in his leg. He didn't notice the tears
streaming silently down his face.
Lifting his face back up,
Harry started running toward the door while trying to dodge the bodies around
the Great Hall, but it was difficult--the bodies were everywhere.
Harry finally reached the
door and he knew it'd be useless, but he still tried opening it. He was
right--it was locked. The cold voice was still singing:
"Oh, Potter, you rotter, you can't escape,
He's going to kill you; it's your
predestined fate."
By now hysterical, Harry
looked around himself (making sure to avoid Dumbledore's eyes) and saw his
cruel Potions Master, Professor Snape, laying a few
feet away. He had a huge bloody knife sticking out of his chest, and his
usually greasy hair was covered in blood and sticking around to his face. Harry
also noticed a few others of his teachers. Professor McGonagall's intestines
were ripped out of her body. Swallowing the bile at the back of his throat,
Harry turned to face the door once more. He was sitting down on the ground with
his legs crossed Indian style rocking back and forth while sobbing and covering
his ears trying to block out the annoying voice singing:
"Oh, Potter, you rotter, you can scream and cry,
But, you best face it: they're still all
going to die."
~*~*~*~
By the end of the song, the
cold voice faded to nothing and all Harry could hear was sobs. Looking around
himself, Harry noticed he was the one sobbing back in his small bedroom. He
breathed a sigh of relief only to abruptly jump up and quickly run to the
bathroom. Harry vomited what he'd been trying to hold down in his dream.
Panting heavily with tears still streaming down his face, Harry walked the few
steps to the sink, turned the freezing water on, and washed his face.
When Harry arrived back in
his bedroom, he pulled the beautifully carved wooden box from his trunk, and
took out the stone basin from the inside of it. Grabbing his wand, Harry closed
his eyes and pointed it at his temple like he'd seen Dumbledore and Snape do before. Lowering his wand into the silvery-white
substance in the Pensieve, Harry breathed another
sigh of relief. It felt good to breathe in fresh air (his window was open) and
not breathing in the stale air of the Great Hall where you could almost taste
the fear, sweat and blood.
Harry honestly couldn't stand
it anymore. This was the second time he'd had that dream in one week. How did
he know it wasn't going to come back? If the dream came back one more time, Harry
was sure he would turn insane. Harry thought about writing to Dumbledore and
asking him for some Dreamless Sleep potion, but he knew Dumbledore must be very
busy. Plus, Harry was sure he'd ask what it was for and then he'd have to
explain his whole dream to Dumbledore. Harry couldn't even think about
Dumbledore's accusing dull eyes void of any twinkle staring back at him, much
less explain it to the Headmaster. No, he'd definitely keep his dream to
himself. This time it was even worse than last time; he noticed the ghosts, and
that horrible disembodied voice sang that song. 'They're still all going to
die...' That terrible line kept repeating itself in Harry's mind. Shaking
his head to rid himself of that voice and the thoughts that accompanied it, Harry
got up off his bed where he was currently sitting, and walked towards his
window. It was dark outside and he could see the stars clearly. He
instinctively looked toward the brightest star of them all --the Dog Star...Sirius.
It was twinkling madly and looked like it was winking at him. Smiling sadly,
Harry stared at it for what felt like hours. He hesitantly turned away from it
after a while and closed his window with a *snap*.
Walking toward his bed, Harry
froze when he felt a sting in his leg. Bending down to lift up his right pant
leg, Harry gasped, momentarily stumbled and fell with a wince. Right there on
his right leg, were both the bruise from the other night, and a semi-deep cut
that still had blood around it. That wasn't normal, was it? Cuts made in dreams
weren't supposed to still be there when someone woke up, right?
Harry got up from the floor,
and sat on his bed, still deep in thought. He obviously knew Voldemort would kill all of his friends if he got the
chance. He couldn't stand the thought. Harry already had a lot of people dead
because of him; he couldn't think of any more names being added to that list.
Absentmindedly fingering the golden locket around his neck, Harry made up his
mind. Whether from the lack of sleep or the jumbled mess of thoughts in his
mind, Harry wasn't sure, but he came up with what he thought was a brilliant
idea. He would run away. 'That's right, somewhere far away where no one will
find me,' Harry thought, 'that way no one will get hurt because of me,
because Voldemort will be too busy looking for me to
hurt any of them.'
With a triumphant grin on his face, Harry made up his mind. He'd run away to somewhere where no one would find him.
Tonight.
A/N: The first verse of the
song was made up by Peeves (that's why Harry thought it was him singing;
remember he sang it in second year?). The rest of the song was made up by me.
Please note that Harry was not trying to kill himself or anything when he stabbed himself. My brother 'kindly' pointed out to me that it seemed like Harry was trying to commit suicide or something. *rolls eyes* That shows what he knows. Why would you stab yourself in the *leg* of all places if you were trying to commit suicide. He was simply trying to wake up so he figured if he hurt, he'd wake up easier--kinda like the pinching thing...
C'mon guys, if you saw all
of your friends lying around dead (for the second time), you'd start to panic
too and try anything to wake up...
Is there anything you've got questions about?? Anything you're not clear on?? If yes, make sure you tell me in your review.
Thanks to everyone who suggested a snake name, but I've already decided. It's in the next chapter so you'll get to see that. I hope you're not disappointed. Thanks again and please review this chapter to let me know what you think!