A/N- Yeah, I know. I've put this chapter off far too long. However, I do
have a good reason. I got a job at fast food in the beginning of July, for
one, and the boys were being very unruly about how much space they were
getting in Chapter 24. Seriously, they were about to start hitting each
other! I got a lot of help from Endora on the Dream Team's nicknames, and
I think I have them finalized. Hopefully Chapter 24 should be coming to
you soon. If the boys will behave.
Hey, I resent that remark.
Really? And who was saying that he was the main character, not Sev? Who was complaining that Sev had more pages?
*rolls eyes* Yes, really. I just had that much because I learned so much in the chapter.
And then I barely get any.
Will you three shut up so I can get on with typing up this chapter? Geez.
Bonds of Pain
Chapter Twenty-three (finally)
In which there are many discoveries
"What the hell is going on?" Severus muttered. November was drawing to a close, and Neville Longbottom had not created a disaster in his class since the end of September. Exasperated by this change in the normally clumsy student, he finally stopped the youngster after class.
"Oh, that?" the boy replied nonchalantly to his query. "Mum asked Gran how I was doing in my classes, and Gran wrote me about it. And Luna has been helping me, too." Luna Lovegood, a particularly odd Ravenclaw, had recently been seen in Longbottom's company by many staff members. Dismissing the teenager, Severus sat back and thought about the possibilities. If Frank and Aurelle Longbottom were improving, it boded well for the Light. Cruciatus damage to the mind might eventually repair itself. Victims like the Longbottoms would be able to testify against torturers who had not been caught in the act.
Pushing aside the slew of happy thoughts, the Potions Master wondered how Minerva was and how she was holding up. He knew his colleague was a tough and brave woman, but it had been almost a month. He shuddered at the thought of what the Dark Lord might have done in the time that Minerva had been missing. Without hesitation, Severus sent a silent prayer to whatever gods might be listening, adding a plea for the safety of his Wen.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Harry bid his dorm mates good night late Wednesday evening, crawling under the warm covers. He paused for his bedtime ritual-a prayer for all those on his side of the growing war, those trapped between or unwillingly on the other side, and most especially, Professor McGonagall. Four weeks to the day had passed since her abduction. Four weeks with no visions from his scar, no success on Myrtle's search, nothing from Lavender's attempts as a Seer. The silence was infuriating. The entire school was walking on eggshells despite Dumbledore's advice, and both Madam Pomfrey and Professor Sprout had burst into tears for no obvious reason in front of students. Sirius waited for freedom, entangled in legal limbo. Remus fumed about Fudge constantly. The Minister was doing everything wizardly possible to keep both of the Marauders wrapped in red tape until the days they died. Mentally cursing the obstructive idiot, Harry pulled the scarlet coverlet up to his chin and closed his eyes, falling into a restless sleep.
~* Dream *~
He was in a large, dark room. Coals glowed in the grate, and the full moon shone through a barred window, illuminating a small figure seated on the huge bed. Outside, snow-covered crags dominated the landscape. As Harry approached the figure, , he saw wavy, jet black hair falling down the woman's back and pooling on the dark green bedspread. Knees clutched to her chest, the woman heaved a dry sob, as if she had cried so much she had run out of tears.
"How many times do I have to tell him no? Fifty-odd years, and it still hasn't gotten through his thick, rotten skull that I don't want him even touching me. He kidnaps me and locks me up in this old castle in the Alps, then has the gall to cast wards so I can't do even the simplest magic, not even a transformation." Harry recognized the woman's voice, though it was hoarse and harsh. It was his missing professor. A second glance out the window told him that the Alps were a definite possibility for her location.
"Professor, are you all right?" he asked, hoping the witch could hear him somehow. "Has he done anything to you?" He was surprised when the professor looked directly at him and spoke.
"Poor Harry. I know you must be blaming yourself for not reaching me in time on Halloween. It's not your fault. They would have gotten away with me no matter what. Tom, the bastard, hasn't touched me yet. At least, not to harm me. He attempts to woo me every night, but I don't know how much longer he'll be able to keep a rein on his temper. If you're really here and hearing me, instead of a figment of my imagination, I know that I am in the Alps, though not exactly where. I glimpsed the Citadel on my way here, just before my captors landed. I know you're looking for me. You wouldn't be the Harry I know if you weren't. Be careful, child. If you and your friends insist on coming on Albus' rescue mission, take every possible precaution. I don't know where Tom is keeping my wand, but Albus knows where in my quarters to find my spare. Be safe, dear child. Be safe." Having spoken her piece, the teacher buried her face in her knees again, sobbing. Harry could feel himself fading.
~* End Dream *~
. and sat up in his bed with a start. Had McGonagall just summoned his sleeping spirit to her? No matter how it had been accomplished, he was sure of one thing: what he had seen and heard was the gospel truth. There hadn't been even a hint of Riddle in the dream, not even the taint Harry felt when his dreams were being watched by the slimy git. He hoped the older witch had some sort of self-defence training that didn't require a weapon or a wand. A tentative touch on his scar bond told the green-eyed boy that his nemesis was about to explode.
Grabbing one of his fountain pens and a scrap of parchment from his nightstand, Harry scrawled a quick message for his room mates.
Had a dream. Gone to see Dumbledore.
He hoped his friends could decipher his sloppy handwriting if they woke up while he was gone, but he had bigger things on his mind. He slipped out of bed, grabbed a pair of socks from his open trunk, and padded out of the room, stopping only briefly in the common room to put on the thick Dobby- socks before climbing out the portrait hole and flying down the corridor, He vaguely heard the Fat Lady ask what he was up to this time.
Sliding to a halt on the polished flagstones in front of Dumbledore's gargoyle, Harry fought for balance. "Three Musketeers," he gasped, the stone beast leaping aside for him immediately. The stairs didn't even register, as the dark-haired Gryffindor found himself banging his fist on the office door rather loudly, calling for the headmaster.
The wizened warlock was soon opening the door, dressed in a bright blue housecoat and orange nightcap. Harry realized then that it was more early than late.
"What has you knocking on my door at half two, Harry?" the old wizard asked, gesturing his student into the room. The green-eyed boy took a moment to catch his breath.
"I have a general idea of where Professor McGonagall is being kept." The news fully woke Dumbledore. "Somewhere in a large mountain range. She said the Alps because she saw the Citadel on the way there. Anti-magic and anti-animagus wards, and her wand has been taken away from her. She said you'd know where her spare was."
"Wait. 'She said?' Did you speak to her?" Harry hung his head.
"No, sir. She acted as though she was thinking of me and seeing me before her and thinking aloud. I know it was her, though, and I know she was saying everything at the same time as I dreamt it. I didn't even feel Tom in the background." Dumbledore beamed at him.
"Excellent. Was there anything else in the dream?"
"Well. she told me to stop blaming myself for Halloween, Tom tries to seduce her nightly, and to take every precaution on the rescue mission."
"Sound advice and useful knowledge, my boy. We might be able to do Voldemort some bodily harm as well as egotistical once Myrtle finds the specific location. This narrows down her search field considerably." The old man sat back and ran a hand along his stocking cap, briefly revealing a glowing red ball at the end. "Go back to bed, Harry. You wouldn't want to fall asleep in Potions."
Not with the way Nev keeps surprising Professor Snape, I don't, the slender boy thought on his way back to the Tower. It's a good thing Draco offered to tutor the both of us. I need that class the next two years to become an Auror if I survive school. It also helped that the professor himself was less hostile this term. When he reached the Tower, the Fat Lady scolded him for running off at such an hour, but he apologised and gave a brief explanation, which seemed to mollify her. He was soon back in the fifth-year boys' dormitory, where he dropped into bed and immediately returned to his interrupted slumber, still wearing both the Dobby-socks and his glasses.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Two weeks passed, and with them, fall term exams. Over two thirds of the school was packing to go home for Christmas holidays. Many Muggle families simply could not relocate to the castle or other safehouses run by Dumbledore's Order of the Phoenix, and their children were returning home for the holidays. None of the Dream Team bothered to pack at all. The Weasley clan was installed in a set of rooms near the staff quarters, and Mrs. Weasley had been baking cookies for Gryffindor House every day since the middle of November. Dobby had been only too glad to deliver the delicious-smelling trays each afternoon. The Grangers were often found in the Library, and Draco no longer wondered where his bushy-haired friend's inquisitive nature originated.
Lavender had dragged her boyfriend to meet her parents after they arrived, and he had ended up relieving many of their fears when it came to items that were commonplace to wizarding folk. The couple still shied from time to time when they were spoken to by a mirror or portrait.
Quidditch was the only change in the school's schedule, despite the increase in population. Because Professor McGonagall was the only staff member who could keep a leash on Lee Jordan's commentary, the Gryffindor- Ravenclaw match-originally scheduled for mid-November-had been postponed indefinitely. Privately, Draco hoped they would get to play soon. He was catching a mild case of cabin fever.
Since Harry's dream of McGonagall-of which the boy had informed the rest of them the very next morning-they had been summoned to Dumbledore's office three times a week for shielding lessons. Ron had picked up the wandless technique rather quickly, spending most of their lessons afterwards playing against McGonagall's personal chess set. The knights had complained at first of the absence of their mistress, but the looks from the students and headmaster had soon quelled those outbursts.
After learning about the ranking of one's magical power based on the colour of one's shield, the Dream Team had been surprised to find that they were all shades of blue, save for two. Harry and Ginny both commanded walls of silver flames when they conjured their shields. While it was rare for anyone to have a silver shield, it was even more so for soulmates to have the colour. Though all six Gryffindors were out of the Tower more than any dozen other students put together, no one questioned their absences.
Rue la Chambre had become a second home. Harry's false sun spell had been modified into a perpetually clear sky that kept the correct time, and the face of Salazar Slytherin was now a beautiful building that resembled a Parisian apartment building from the early nineteenth century. The snake columns were now permanently leafy trees providing a bit of shade during the daylight hours. The group had carved a while complex of rooms from the rock behind the building façade, and they now had a potential escape if the castle was overrun by Death Eaters. From the Chamber, it was possible to wage guerrilla war on any force occupying the castle. Harry had even figured out the charm on the entrance and modified it to respond only to hissing or Parseltongue from Dream Team members. In this process, he had discovered that Ginny's encounter with Riddle's diary had left her, too, with the rare ability the Dark Lord assumed he alone possessed.
The night after most of the students left for home, Draco went to bed as usual, pondering what to give his friends for Christmas. He still hadn't decided when he drifted into sleep. It seemed only seconds had passed when he was woken by a hoarse screaming from the next bed over. Harry's bed. Ron, who had moved into the dorm for the holidays, woke as well, though he was extremely groggy and confused.
"Harry! Harry, mate!" the blond exclaimed softly. The bed was shaking, and he opened the curtains to see his best friend thrashing wildly, the covers torn and knotting around him. "Ron, come help me hold him down before he hurts himself!" The redhead reacted instinctively, sitting on the prone boy's legs as Draco held both arms firmly.
{What the bloody hell is going on over there?} Ginny asked sleepily.
~Vision. Violent one, too. Worse than All Saints'. Get your mum and Pomfrey, fast.~ He didn't spare the effort to elaborate, as much of it was needed to restrain his friend, whose struggles had only gotten stronger. Gods. He woke up the girls. Sure enough, Hermione and Lavender ran in moments later, both dishevelled and wearing dressing robes thrown over their nightclothes. Careless of their attire, the two young witches knelt on either side of the four-poster, each firmly taking hold of one of Harry's hands. Now able to move, Draco sat at the dark boy's head, placing the black mop in his lap and putting a hand to each of the sleeping- dreaming-boy's temples to prevent an injury.
"TOM!" Harry shouted, his voice hoarse and raspy, almost the way it had sounded just a week before classes had started. "Leave her alone! You dirty, rotten bastard, I'll kill you for this!" Something bad was happening. Could it be McGonagall? All they could do was hold their friend down until Ginny came back with help. It was a good thing they were the only students in the Tower.
With the aid of both the school's medi-witch and the experienced Mum Weasley, the vision was rapidly ended. Within twenty minutes, Harry had ceased the thrashing and screaming, instead balled up in the middle of his four-poster and flinching whenever anyone touched him. Worried, the group sat around him in silence, waiting for the black-haired Gryffindor to speak.
"God, I'm going to make him wish he'd never been born," Harry rasped finally. "I hope he goes to the deepest, darkest corner of Hell and feels the pain of his victims for eternity." The vivid green eyes stayed closed.
"What happened, love?" Ginny asked, her voice tender. She reached out and stroked the wild raven locks, and the distraught teen did not move. Her promise ring, on her left hand, shone in Draco's vision.
"You don't want to know, Gin. It'd be even better if I didn't." Harry shivered again. "He. well, he forced Professor McGonagall." Draco shared a worried look with Ron. The five witches in the room were on the verge of tears.
{This is really bad, Dragon.}
~Absolutely. Harry will be reckless in his attempts for vengeance. We have to tell Dumbledore.~
As if summoned, the aged headmaster walked into the room, stopping suddenly as he saw Harry. Great concern entered the wizard's expression, and he knelt next to the bed.
"Harry? Merlin, what has happened?" The young man finally lifted his head, piercing Dumbledore with eyes that just barely flickered where they normally shone with lively fire.
"He made her. God, I can't even say it. Professor McGonagall's been raped. I swear he'll pay. He'll be paying for it forever, if there's any justice in this world." At Harry's words, the ever-present twinkle of the Headmaster's eyes vanished, turning the bright blue into steel.
"If only my news for you had come sooner. Myrtle has found the castle where Tom is keeping Minerva. The Order is trying to decide who will be going on the rescue mission as we speak. Molly, you may be needed as a mediator." Mrs. Weasley stood, nodding to Dumbledore before leaving the dormitory with purposeful strides.
"I'm going, Professor," grated the young man on the bed. For a second time, Draco saw raging green fire in his best friend's eyes.
"You'd best agree, sir," the blond warned. "Otherwise we'll end up going on our own. There's no way you're keeping us here when the Professor needs us." Dumbledore blinked at the Malfoy scion before he noticed the emerald stare with which his Golden Boy was fixing him.
"Erm. Of course not. But we need to keep working on your magical protections. I will not risk your lives." Harry nodded at the aged wizard's statement. Suddenly looking very small and lost, the dark-haired Gryffindor wrapped the remains of the comforter around himself.
"I'm all right now," Harry whispered. "I just want to be with my friends." Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey retreated quickly, and the Dream Team proceeded to smother their leader in a mass hug. As the lump of teens slowly broke apart, the boy almost looked vulnerable. "Could everyone stay in here for the rest of the night?"
"Of course, Harry," Hermione replied. A deft flick of her wand produced six plump sleeping bags in the centre of the room. Within twenty minutes, six young witches and wizards were burrowed into the down-filled cocoons, out cold.
Who will be going on the rescue mission? How will it turn out? What will the Dream Team do to old Mouldywarts this time? Find out next chapter!
Hey, I resent that remark.
Really? And who was saying that he was the main character, not Sev? Who was complaining that Sev had more pages?
*rolls eyes* Yes, really. I just had that much because I learned so much in the chapter.
And then I barely get any.
Will you three shut up so I can get on with typing up this chapter? Geez.
Bonds of Pain
Chapter Twenty-three (finally)
In which there are many discoveries
"What the hell is going on?" Severus muttered. November was drawing to a close, and Neville Longbottom had not created a disaster in his class since the end of September. Exasperated by this change in the normally clumsy student, he finally stopped the youngster after class.
"Oh, that?" the boy replied nonchalantly to his query. "Mum asked Gran how I was doing in my classes, and Gran wrote me about it. And Luna has been helping me, too." Luna Lovegood, a particularly odd Ravenclaw, had recently been seen in Longbottom's company by many staff members. Dismissing the teenager, Severus sat back and thought about the possibilities. If Frank and Aurelle Longbottom were improving, it boded well for the Light. Cruciatus damage to the mind might eventually repair itself. Victims like the Longbottoms would be able to testify against torturers who had not been caught in the act.
Pushing aside the slew of happy thoughts, the Potions Master wondered how Minerva was and how she was holding up. He knew his colleague was a tough and brave woman, but it had been almost a month. He shuddered at the thought of what the Dark Lord might have done in the time that Minerva had been missing. Without hesitation, Severus sent a silent prayer to whatever gods might be listening, adding a plea for the safety of his Wen.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Harry bid his dorm mates good night late Wednesday evening, crawling under the warm covers. He paused for his bedtime ritual-a prayer for all those on his side of the growing war, those trapped between or unwillingly on the other side, and most especially, Professor McGonagall. Four weeks to the day had passed since her abduction. Four weeks with no visions from his scar, no success on Myrtle's search, nothing from Lavender's attempts as a Seer. The silence was infuriating. The entire school was walking on eggshells despite Dumbledore's advice, and both Madam Pomfrey and Professor Sprout had burst into tears for no obvious reason in front of students. Sirius waited for freedom, entangled in legal limbo. Remus fumed about Fudge constantly. The Minister was doing everything wizardly possible to keep both of the Marauders wrapped in red tape until the days they died. Mentally cursing the obstructive idiot, Harry pulled the scarlet coverlet up to his chin and closed his eyes, falling into a restless sleep.
~* Dream *~
He was in a large, dark room. Coals glowed in the grate, and the full moon shone through a barred window, illuminating a small figure seated on the huge bed. Outside, snow-covered crags dominated the landscape. As Harry approached the figure, , he saw wavy, jet black hair falling down the woman's back and pooling on the dark green bedspread. Knees clutched to her chest, the woman heaved a dry sob, as if she had cried so much she had run out of tears.
"How many times do I have to tell him no? Fifty-odd years, and it still hasn't gotten through his thick, rotten skull that I don't want him even touching me. He kidnaps me and locks me up in this old castle in the Alps, then has the gall to cast wards so I can't do even the simplest magic, not even a transformation." Harry recognized the woman's voice, though it was hoarse and harsh. It was his missing professor. A second glance out the window told him that the Alps were a definite possibility for her location.
"Professor, are you all right?" he asked, hoping the witch could hear him somehow. "Has he done anything to you?" He was surprised when the professor looked directly at him and spoke.
"Poor Harry. I know you must be blaming yourself for not reaching me in time on Halloween. It's not your fault. They would have gotten away with me no matter what. Tom, the bastard, hasn't touched me yet. At least, not to harm me. He attempts to woo me every night, but I don't know how much longer he'll be able to keep a rein on his temper. If you're really here and hearing me, instead of a figment of my imagination, I know that I am in the Alps, though not exactly where. I glimpsed the Citadel on my way here, just before my captors landed. I know you're looking for me. You wouldn't be the Harry I know if you weren't. Be careful, child. If you and your friends insist on coming on Albus' rescue mission, take every possible precaution. I don't know where Tom is keeping my wand, but Albus knows where in my quarters to find my spare. Be safe, dear child. Be safe." Having spoken her piece, the teacher buried her face in her knees again, sobbing. Harry could feel himself fading.
~* End Dream *~
. and sat up in his bed with a start. Had McGonagall just summoned his sleeping spirit to her? No matter how it had been accomplished, he was sure of one thing: what he had seen and heard was the gospel truth. There hadn't been even a hint of Riddle in the dream, not even the taint Harry felt when his dreams were being watched by the slimy git. He hoped the older witch had some sort of self-defence training that didn't require a weapon or a wand. A tentative touch on his scar bond told the green-eyed boy that his nemesis was about to explode.
Grabbing one of his fountain pens and a scrap of parchment from his nightstand, Harry scrawled a quick message for his room mates.
Had a dream. Gone to see Dumbledore.
He hoped his friends could decipher his sloppy handwriting if they woke up while he was gone, but he had bigger things on his mind. He slipped out of bed, grabbed a pair of socks from his open trunk, and padded out of the room, stopping only briefly in the common room to put on the thick Dobby- socks before climbing out the portrait hole and flying down the corridor, He vaguely heard the Fat Lady ask what he was up to this time.
Sliding to a halt on the polished flagstones in front of Dumbledore's gargoyle, Harry fought for balance. "Three Musketeers," he gasped, the stone beast leaping aside for him immediately. The stairs didn't even register, as the dark-haired Gryffindor found himself banging his fist on the office door rather loudly, calling for the headmaster.
The wizened warlock was soon opening the door, dressed in a bright blue housecoat and orange nightcap. Harry realized then that it was more early than late.
"What has you knocking on my door at half two, Harry?" the old wizard asked, gesturing his student into the room. The green-eyed boy took a moment to catch his breath.
"I have a general idea of where Professor McGonagall is being kept." The news fully woke Dumbledore. "Somewhere in a large mountain range. She said the Alps because she saw the Citadel on the way there. Anti-magic and anti-animagus wards, and her wand has been taken away from her. She said you'd know where her spare was."
"Wait. 'She said?' Did you speak to her?" Harry hung his head.
"No, sir. She acted as though she was thinking of me and seeing me before her and thinking aloud. I know it was her, though, and I know she was saying everything at the same time as I dreamt it. I didn't even feel Tom in the background." Dumbledore beamed at him.
"Excellent. Was there anything else in the dream?"
"Well. she told me to stop blaming myself for Halloween, Tom tries to seduce her nightly, and to take every precaution on the rescue mission."
"Sound advice and useful knowledge, my boy. We might be able to do Voldemort some bodily harm as well as egotistical once Myrtle finds the specific location. This narrows down her search field considerably." The old man sat back and ran a hand along his stocking cap, briefly revealing a glowing red ball at the end. "Go back to bed, Harry. You wouldn't want to fall asleep in Potions."
Not with the way Nev keeps surprising Professor Snape, I don't, the slender boy thought on his way back to the Tower. It's a good thing Draco offered to tutor the both of us. I need that class the next two years to become an Auror if I survive school. It also helped that the professor himself was less hostile this term. When he reached the Tower, the Fat Lady scolded him for running off at such an hour, but he apologised and gave a brief explanation, which seemed to mollify her. He was soon back in the fifth-year boys' dormitory, where he dropped into bed and immediately returned to his interrupted slumber, still wearing both the Dobby-socks and his glasses.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Two weeks passed, and with them, fall term exams. Over two thirds of the school was packing to go home for Christmas holidays. Many Muggle families simply could not relocate to the castle or other safehouses run by Dumbledore's Order of the Phoenix, and their children were returning home for the holidays. None of the Dream Team bothered to pack at all. The Weasley clan was installed in a set of rooms near the staff quarters, and Mrs. Weasley had been baking cookies for Gryffindor House every day since the middle of November. Dobby had been only too glad to deliver the delicious-smelling trays each afternoon. The Grangers were often found in the Library, and Draco no longer wondered where his bushy-haired friend's inquisitive nature originated.
Lavender had dragged her boyfriend to meet her parents after they arrived, and he had ended up relieving many of their fears when it came to items that were commonplace to wizarding folk. The couple still shied from time to time when they were spoken to by a mirror or portrait.
Quidditch was the only change in the school's schedule, despite the increase in population. Because Professor McGonagall was the only staff member who could keep a leash on Lee Jordan's commentary, the Gryffindor- Ravenclaw match-originally scheduled for mid-November-had been postponed indefinitely. Privately, Draco hoped they would get to play soon. He was catching a mild case of cabin fever.
Since Harry's dream of McGonagall-of which the boy had informed the rest of them the very next morning-they had been summoned to Dumbledore's office three times a week for shielding lessons. Ron had picked up the wandless technique rather quickly, spending most of their lessons afterwards playing against McGonagall's personal chess set. The knights had complained at first of the absence of their mistress, but the looks from the students and headmaster had soon quelled those outbursts.
After learning about the ranking of one's magical power based on the colour of one's shield, the Dream Team had been surprised to find that they were all shades of blue, save for two. Harry and Ginny both commanded walls of silver flames when they conjured their shields. While it was rare for anyone to have a silver shield, it was even more so for soulmates to have the colour. Though all six Gryffindors were out of the Tower more than any dozen other students put together, no one questioned their absences.
Rue la Chambre had become a second home. Harry's false sun spell had been modified into a perpetually clear sky that kept the correct time, and the face of Salazar Slytherin was now a beautiful building that resembled a Parisian apartment building from the early nineteenth century. The snake columns were now permanently leafy trees providing a bit of shade during the daylight hours. The group had carved a while complex of rooms from the rock behind the building façade, and they now had a potential escape if the castle was overrun by Death Eaters. From the Chamber, it was possible to wage guerrilla war on any force occupying the castle. Harry had even figured out the charm on the entrance and modified it to respond only to hissing or Parseltongue from Dream Team members. In this process, he had discovered that Ginny's encounter with Riddle's diary had left her, too, with the rare ability the Dark Lord assumed he alone possessed.
The night after most of the students left for home, Draco went to bed as usual, pondering what to give his friends for Christmas. He still hadn't decided when he drifted into sleep. It seemed only seconds had passed when he was woken by a hoarse screaming from the next bed over. Harry's bed. Ron, who had moved into the dorm for the holidays, woke as well, though he was extremely groggy and confused.
"Harry! Harry, mate!" the blond exclaimed softly. The bed was shaking, and he opened the curtains to see his best friend thrashing wildly, the covers torn and knotting around him. "Ron, come help me hold him down before he hurts himself!" The redhead reacted instinctively, sitting on the prone boy's legs as Draco held both arms firmly.
{What the bloody hell is going on over there?} Ginny asked sleepily.
~Vision. Violent one, too. Worse than All Saints'. Get your mum and Pomfrey, fast.~ He didn't spare the effort to elaborate, as much of it was needed to restrain his friend, whose struggles had only gotten stronger. Gods. He woke up the girls. Sure enough, Hermione and Lavender ran in moments later, both dishevelled and wearing dressing robes thrown over their nightclothes. Careless of their attire, the two young witches knelt on either side of the four-poster, each firmly taking hold of one of Harry's hands. Now able to move, Draco sat at the dark boy's head, placing the black mop in his lap and putting a hand to each of the sleeping- dreaming-boy's temples to prevent an injury.
"TOM!" Harry shouted, his voice hoarse and raspy, almost the way it had sounded just a week before classes had started. "Leave her alone! You dirty, rotten bastard, I'll kill you for this!" Something bad was happening. Could it be McGonagall? All they could do was hold their friend down until Ginny came back with help. It was a good thing they were the only students in the Tower.
With the aid of both the school's medi-witch and the experienced Mum Weasley, the vision was rapidly ended. Within twenty minutes, Harry had ceased the thrashing and screaming, instead balled up in the middle of his four-poster and flinching whenever anyone touched him. Worried, the group sat around him in silence, waiting for the black-haired Gryffindor to speak.
"God, I'm going to make him wish he'd never been born," Harry rasped finally. "I hope he goes to the deepest, darkest corner of Hell and feels the pain of his victims for eternity." The vivid green eyes stayed closed.
"What happened, love?" Ginny asked, her voice tender. She reached out and stroked the wild raven locks, and the distraught teen did not move. Her promise ring, on her left hand, shone in Draco's vision.
"You don't want to know, Gin. It'd be even better if I didn't." Harry shivered again. "He. well, he forced Professor McGonagall." Draco shared a worried look with Ron. The five witches in the room were on the verge of tears.
{This is really bad, Dragon.}
~Absolutely. Harry will be reckless in his attempts for vengeance. We have to tell Dumbledore.~
As if summoned, the aged headmaster walked into the room, stopping suddenly as he saw Harry. Great concern entered the wizard's expression, and he knelt next to the bed.
"Harry? Merlin, what has happened?" The young man finally lifted his head, piercing Dumbledore with eyes that just barely flickered where they normally shone with lively fire.
"He made her. God, I can't even say it. Professor McGonagall's been raped. I swear he'll pay. He'll be paying for it forever, if there's any justice in this world." At Harry's words, the ever-present twinkle of the Headmaster's eyes vanished, turning the bright blue into steel.
"If only my news for you had come sooner. Myrtle has found the castle where Tom is keeping Minerva. The Order is trying to decide who will be going on the rescue mission as we speak. Molly, you may be needed as a mediator." Mrs. Weasley stood, nodding to Dumbledore before leaving the dormitory with purposeful strides.
"I'm going, Professor," grated the young man on the bed. For a second time, Draco saw raging green fire in his best friend's eyes.
"You'd best agree, sir," the blond warned. "Otherwise we'll end up going on our own. There's no way you're keeping us here when the Professor needs us." Dumbledore blinked at the Malfoy scion before he noticed the emerald stare with which his Golden Boy was fixing him.
"Erm. Of course not. But we need to keep working on your magical protections. I will not risk your lives." Harry nodded at the aged wizard's statement. Suddenly looking very small and lost, the dark-haired Gryffindor wrapped the remains of the comforter around himself.
"I'm all right now," Harry whispered. "I just want to be with my friends." Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey retreated quickly, and the Dream Team proceeded to smother their leader in a mass hug. As the lump of teens slowly broke apart, the boy almost looked vulnerable. "Could everyone stay in here for the rest of the night?"
"Of course, Harry," Hermione replied. A deft flick of her wand produced six plump sleeping bags in the centre of the room. Within twenty minutes, six young witches and wizards were burrowed into the down-filled cocoons, out cold.
Who will be going on the rescue mission? How will it turn out? What will the Dream Team do to old Mouldywarts this time? Find out next chapter!