Harry Potter awoke rather early on a May morning during his seventh
year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. His usual nightmares
about long corridors which had brought him much pain and insufficient
knowledge about something had kept him awake most of the night, but now, at
half past five, sunlight streamed through his window, bathing him in a
gentle warmth.
He stretched and considered falling back to sleep before his alarm went off at seven-fifteen. But more sleep would only bring him deeper into himself and cause him not to want to wake up again for class. Instead, he crept out of bed slowly, as not to wake his fellow dorm mates, and slipped into the bathroom where he stripped and climbed into the shower. Hot water streamed down his face, washing away the sleep and the bad dreams that invaded his slumber.
When he finished, he dressed for the day and headed down to the Great Hall. Hardly anyone was there yet, except for a few Ravenclaw students who didn't even turn his way when he entered the hall. He saw Cho Chang, the girl he used to like, chatting animatedly with her friends, but she, much like the other students, chose to ignore him.
Not really hungry yet, Harry pulled out his Transfiguration book and prepared to get in some quick studying before the other students arrived for breakfast. During the past year, Harry had studied intensely, determined to become an Auror after he left Hogwarts. With his NEWT exams so dangerously close, there was no time to waste when it came to studying. Books could be found in every seventh year students' hands during their spare time, especially during mealtimes.
Harry managed to get through one chapter before the other students began filtering into the Great Hall, muttering how hungry they were. He packed his book away, knowing that it wouldn't be long before his two best friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, were at his side. Surely enough, the two of them entered the Hall no more than five minutes later, bickering about something silly, no doubt.
"Ron, you're so naïve," Hermione said, flashing a small smile at Harry as she took a seat on the bench across from him. "Astronomy is an important part of Muggle Studies. They, too, study the stars and how they affect our everyday lives."
"Whatever," Ron muttered, shoving a breakfast muffin into his mouth. He waved to show that he acknowledged Harry's presence and when he could speak again, said, "What are you doing here so early?"
"Couldn't sleep." Harry shrugged to show that it didn't bother him but something he couldn't identify was nagging him. Something deep inside where he had never ventured before was telling him that things wouldn't be this peaceful and serene forever. Of course, things hadn't been wonderful since Sirius was killed almost two years ago, but Harry had learned to deal with that and how to control his emotions.
Hermione was staring at him strangely. "Are you okay?" she finally asked.
Harry forced a smile through his fogged brain. "Of course," he replied. "Why shouldn't I be?" But he knew very well why he shouldn't be. The recent news of Voldemort's whereabouts had the entire school rattled. Many students became unnerved upon learning that Voldemort was lurking ever closer to the school castle. It was common knowledge that he couldn't penetrate the ancient magic that protected the castle, not as long as Albus Dumbledore was around, but it was still frightening to know that he could be so close by.
Most of the student body was angered when all trips to Hogsmeade were cancelled but Harry silently reasoned with this news. He knew that the Order of the Phoenix was doing everything in their power to ensure that the entire wizarding community was protected from Voldemort and his Death Eaters, but he often worried about the other members that he didn't see that often, like Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and Remus Lupin.
The day passed rather quickly for Harry, as Fridays usually did. He didn't have any plans for the weekend, other than studying like mad for his upcoming exams. "They will be here sooner than you know," Hermione insisted, ushering Harry and Ron along the corridors after their last class of the day. Defence Against the Dark Arts had become increasingly more fascinating since Professor Coontz had taken over in the beginning of their sixth year. She was a short, squat woman who strongly reminded Harry of Professor Sprout. No matter, she was kind and intelligent and that's what Harry wanted the most in a professor during his last year.
Late Saturday evening, while enjoying a game of wizard's chess with Ron in the Gryffindor common room, Harry felt something he hadn't felt in what seemed like ages: his scar prickled. Having adapted to this sort of reaction, Harry wouldn't have let it bother him so much had it not started to throb painfully moments after that. He clutched his forehead in anguish, causing Ron to jump from his seat.
"Is he here?" he muttered furiously, ignoring the looks from fellow Gryffindors. "Is he hurting someone?"
Harry could only shake his head, still unsure of what the tormenting was caused by. He knew it was connected to Voldemort, as always, but he couldn't put his finger on what was happening.
"You should tell Dumbledore," were the first words out of Hermione's mouth when Ron informed her of what Harry had been feeling all evening. "You know he wants to hear these things."
"I know," Harry replied quietly, but he felt silly running to the Headmaster with something that had been happening for over five years. "But Dumbledore has more important things to worry about right now."
Hermione looked indignant. "Like what?"
"Um, the Order?"
"Harry, Dumbledore wants to protect everyone from Voldemort. That's the point of the Order. And I think that your scar bothering you again, which has always been a sign of Voldemort being near or how he's feeling, would classify as something important that has to do with the Order."
"Right," Harry muttered, going back to his chess game, in which he was being sorely beaten. "I'll mention it to him first thing Monday morning."
Another dream plagued Harry Saturday night. He was standing in what appeared to be the Entrance Hall to Hogwarts, but had the most unwelcome feeling of the Dursleys' home. People were rushing about so quickly that their solid forms soon became colourful blurs. No one seemed to be paying any attention to him, whatsoever, yet Harry felt he had something important to tell them."
"I have to warn you," he kept saying over and over again, but no one stopped to pay attention to the lost boy in the middle of the hallway. Suddenly, as if time itself had slowed down, the crowds began to disperse and Harry found himself staring up a long, dark, winding staircase. Feeling the inner curiosity fill his soul, he began the climb to the top of the stairs, which seemed to reach on forever.
It was suddenly very cold. When Harry looked up to see the source of the frigid wind blowing down on him, he was surprised to see the sixteen- year old form of Tom Riddle standing above him. Riddle had been staring off into space but when Harry noticed him, he turned ever so slightly to glare right into Harry's eyes.
"Soon," he said, a wicked smile spreading across his face. "Soon."
"Harry!"
The fierce voice made Harry jump out of his sleep. He glanced around the dorm room, one eye still half shut. Ron was sitting on the edge of his bed, wringing his hands in an obvious attempt to stay calm.
"You were muttering in your sleep," Ron said nervously. "I had to wake you up because you were so loud."
For the first time, Harry noticed that Dean, Neville and Seamus were also staring at him from their beds with eyes of wonder. Harry shook his head to rid his mind of the eerie dream. He could still feel the cold, clammy presence he had felt on that staircase and pulled his blanket closer to his chin in a desperate attempt to warm himself.
"I'm fine," he said, rolling over to face away from everyone's prying eyes. "Just fine."
He stretched and considered falling back to sleep before his alarm went off at seven-fifteen. But more sleep would only bring him deeper into himself and cause him not to want to wake up again for class. Instead, he crept out of bed slowly, as not to wake his fellow dorm mates, and slipped into the bathroom where he stripped and climbed into the shower. Hot water streamed down his face, washing away the sleep and the bad dreams that invaded his slumber.
When he finished, he dressed for the day and headed down to the Great Hall. Hardly anyone was there yet, except for a few Ravenclaw students who didn't even turn his way when he entered the hall. He saw Cho Chang, the girl he used to like, chatting animatedly with her friends, but she, much like the other students, chose to ignore him.
Not really hungry yet, Harry pulled out his Transfiguration book and prepared to get in some quick studying before the other students arrived for breakfast. During the past year, Harry had studied intensely, determined to become an Auror after he left Hogwarts. With his NEWT exams so dangerously close, there was no time to waste when it came to studying. Books could be found in every seventh year students' hands during their spare time, especially during mealtimes.
Harry managed to get through one chapter before the other students began filtering into the Great Hall, muttering how hungry they were. He packed his book away, knowing that it wouldn't be long before his two best friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, were at his side. Surely enough, the two of them entered the Hall no more than five minutes later, bickering about something silly, no doubt.
"Ron, you're so naïve," Hermione said, flashing a small smile at Harry as she took a seat on the bench across from him. "Astronomy is an important part of Muggle Studies. They, too, study the stars and how they affect our everyday lives."
"Whatever," Ron muttered, shoving a breakfast muffin into his mouth. He waved to show that he acknowledged Harry's presence and when he could speak again, said, "What are you doing here so early?"
"Couldn't sleep." Harry shrugged to show that it didn't bother him but something he couldn't identify was nagging him. Something deep inside where he had never ventured before was telling him that things wouldn't be this peaceful and serene forever. Of course, things hadn't been wonderful since Sirius was killed almost two years ago, but Harry had learned to deal with that and how to control his emotions.
Hermione was staring at him strangely. "Are you okay?" she finally asked.
Harry forced a smile through his fogged brain. "Of course," he replied. "Why shouldn't I be?" But he knew very well why he shouldn't be. The recent news of Voldemort's whereabouts had the entire school rattled. Many students became unnerved upon learning that Voldemort was lurking ever closer to the school castle. It was common knowledge that he couldn't penetrate the ancient magic that protected the castle, not as long as Albus Dumbledore was around, but it was still frightening to know that he could be so close by.
Most of the student body was angered when all trips to Hogsmeade were cancelled but Harry silently reasoned with this news. He knew that the Order of the Phoenix was doing everything in their power to ensure that the entire wizarding community was protected from Voldemort and his Death Eaters, but he often worried about the other members that he didn't see that often, like Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and Remus Lupin.
The day passed rather quickly for Harry, as Fridays usually did. He didn't have any plans for the weekend, other than studying like mad for his upcoming exams. "They will be here sooner than you know," Hermione insisted, ushering Harry and Ron along the corridors after their last class of the day. Defence Against the Dark Arts had become increasingly more fascinating since Professor Coontz had taken over in the beginning of their sixth year. She was a short, squat woman who strongly reminded Harry of Professor Sprout. No matter, she was kind and intelligent and that's what Harry wanted the most in a professor during his last year.
Late Saturday evening, while enjoying a game of wizard's chess with Ron in the Gryffindor common room, Harry felt something he hadn't felt in what seemed like ages: his scar prickled. Having adapted to this sort of reaction, Harry wouldn't have let it bother him so much had it not started to throb painfully moments after that. He clutched his forehead in anguish, causing Ron to jump from his seat.
"Is he here?" he muttered furiously, ignoring the looks from fellow Gryffindors. "Is he hurting someone?"
Harry could only shake his head, still unsure of what the tormenting was caused by. He knew it was connected to Voldemort, as always, but he couldn't put his finger on what was happening.
"You should tell Dumbledore," were the first words out of Hermione's mouth when Ron informed her of what Harry had been feeling all evening. "You know he wants to hear these things."
"I know," Harry replied quietly, but he felt silly running to the Headmaster with something that had been happening for over five years. "But Dumbledore has more important things to worry about right now."
Hermione looked indignant. "Like what?"
"Um, the Order?"
"Harry, Dumbledore wants to protect everyone from Voldemort. That's the point of the Order. And I think that your scar bothering you again, which has always been a sign of Voldemort being near or how he's feeling, would classify as something important that has to do with the Order."
"Right," Harry muttered, going back to his chess game, in which he was being sorely beaten. "I'll mention it to him first thing Monday morning."
Another dream plagued Harry Saturday night. He was standing in what appeared to be the Entrance Hall to Hogwarts, but had the most unwelcome feeling of the Dursleys' home. People were rushing about so quickly that their solid forms soon became colourful blurs. No one seemed to be paying any attention to him, whatsoever, yet Harry felt he had something important to tell them."
"I have to warn you," he kept saying over and over again, but no one stopped to pay attention to the lost boy in the middle of the hallway. Suddenly, as if time itself had slowed down, the crowds began to disperse and Harry found himself staring up a long, dark, winding staircase. Feeling the inner curiosity fill his soul, he began the climb to the top of the stairs, which seemed to reach on forever.
It was suddenly very cold. When Harry looked up to see the source of the frigid wind blowing down on him, he was surprised to see the sixteen- year old form of Tom Riddle standing above him. Riddle had been staring off into space but when Harry noticed him, he turned ever so slightly to glare right into Harry's eyes.
"Soon," he said, a wicked smile spreading across his face. "Soon."
"Harry!"
The fierce voice made Harry jump out of his sleep. He glanced around the dorm room, one eye still half shut. Ron was sitting on the edge of his bed, wringing his hands in an obvious attempt to stay calm.
"You were muttering in your sleep," Ron said nervously. "I had to wake you up because you were so loud."
For the first time, Harry noticed that Dean, Neville and Seamus were also staring at him from their beds with eyes of wonder. Harry shook his head to rid his mind of the eerie dream. He could still feel the cold, clammy presence he had felt on that staircase and pulled his blanket closer to his chin in a desperate attempt to warm himself.
"I'm fine," he said, rolling over to face away from everyone's prying eyes. "Just fine."