Chapter 2 Nightmares
True to his word the next morning Vernon loaded all of Harry's school stuff and Hedwig's cage in the car and personally delivered it to the dump. Harry felt that a chapter in his life was closing. The Dursleys were if anything worse to him than ever before. Petunia started piling on the chores and cutting back on his food. Dudley even had his crowd of friends come over and made fun of Harry as he worked inside and outside of the house all day. When the day was finished, he took his bread and water and dragged himself upstairs and ate in silence. He looked out the window of his room and noticed that the bars had even been put up again, and he heard the lock being set on the outside of his door. He was a prisoner in his room again.
Hedwig perched herself on the bars outside his window and scratched at it to get his attention. He looked at her and noticed a long thin package attached to her leg dangling between the bars. He quietly opened the window, so he could access his faithful friend and relieve her of her burden.
He opened the package and to his surprise it contained a travel flask of ink, an eagle feather quill and a few tightly rolled pieces of parchment. Attached to the flask was a small note.
Harry,
Here are some things that you might need. Let us know what is happening. The flask is charmed to contain a never ending supply of ink and the parchment will replenish itself as needed. Professor Dumbledore told me of your situation, so I thought that these would be helpful. I will be sending you some information from our books and copies of my notes from last term, so you can at least study at night. Let me know how wide the bars are on your window, so I don't send anything too big.
Love, Hermione
Harry's heart was lightened by this small but important delivery. Leave it to Hermione to figure out a way to allow him to keep in touch with the Wizarding world and still get his homework done. He took the note and turned it over to write a reply. The first thing he did was measure the width of the bars by using the edge of the parchment. He also marked the height between the cross members of the bars so she knew how much room she had to work with.
Hermione,
You clever little witch. I am reminded of something that Ron's dad said once "Doesn't miss a trick that man Dumbledore." Leave it to him to let you know what was happening, so you could figure out a way to get some stuff to me. I marked the height and width of the space in the bars on my window on the edge of this parchment. Are you still planning to visit Krum in Bulgaria? The Dursleys are worse than ever now. They are starving me again, have taken all my stuff to the dump, and are enrolling me in Stonewall High. They will not let me go back to Hogwarts.
Harry
He folded up the parchment and tied it to Hedwig's leg. "Take this to Hermione, please girl," he said to her. She flew off into the night. He watched her fly until he couldn't see her anymore. He put the ink, quill and parchment under the loose floorboard to keep them safe. He finished his dinner and crawled into bed to get some sleep. He was out before his head hit the pillow.
Cedric looked down at the Triwizard Cup and then up at Harry. "Did anyone tell you the cup was a Portkey?" he asked. "Nope," said Harry. He was looking around the graveyard. It was completely silent and slightly eerie. "Is this supposed to be part of the task?" "I dunno," said Cedric. He sounded slightly nervous. "Wands out, d'you reckon?" "Yeah," said Harry, glad that Cedric had made the suggestion rather than him. They pulled out their wands. Harry kept looking around him. He had, yet again, the strange feeling that they were being watched. "Someone's coming," he said suddenly. Squinting tensely through the darkness, they watched the figure drawing nearer, walking steadily toward them between the graves. Harry couldn't make out a face, but from the way it was walking and holding its arms, he could tell that it was carrying something. Whoever it was, he was short, and wearing a hooded cloak pulled up over his head to obscure his face. And - several paces nearer, the gap between them closing all the time, - Harry saw that the thing in the persons' arms looked like a baby ... or was it merely a bundle of robes? Harry lowered his wand slightly and glanced sideways at Cedric. Cedric shot him a quizzical look. They both turned back to watch the approaching figure. It stopped beside a towering marble headstone, only six feet from them. For a second Harry and Cedric and the short figure simply looked at one another. And then, without warning, Harry's scar exploded with pain. It was agony such as he had never felt in all his life; his wand slipped from his fingers as he put his hands over his face; his knees buckled; he was on the ground and could see nothing at all; his head was about to split open. From far away, above his head, he heard a high cold voice say, "Kill the spare." A swishing noise and a second voice, which screeched the words to the night: "Avada Kedavra!" A blast of green light blazed through Harry's eyelids, and he heard something heavy fall to the ground beside him; the pain in his scar reached such a pitch that he retched, and then it diminished. Terrified of what he was about to see, he opened his stinging eyes. Cedric was lying spread-eagled on the ground beside him. He was dead.
Harry awoke in a cold sweat and his scar pounding. He remembered the dream and started to cry. He didn't want Cedric dead. He didn't want anyone to die because of him again. The pain in his heart echoed the pain in his scar. He lost his parents because of who he was. He lost a friend for who he was and Cho would never speak to him again. Harry was more depressed than he had ever been in the past. Even with a channel now open to the Wizarding world he still was so far down that he didn't think that he could get up anymore.
Harry eventually dozed off only to have another nightmare.
"It is ready, Master." "Now ..." said the cold voice. Wormtail pulled open the robes on the ground, revealing what was inside them, and Harry let out a yell that was strangled in the wad of material blocking his mouth. It was as though Wormtail had flipped over a stone and revealed something ugly, slimy, and blind - but worse, a hundred times worse. The thing Wormtail had been carrying had the shape of a crouched human child, except that Harry had never seen anything less like a child. It was hairless and scaly-looking, a dark, raw, reddish black. Its arms and legs were thin and feeble, and its face - no child alive ever had a face like that - flat and snakelike, with gleaming red eyes. The thing seemed almost helpless; it raised its thin arms, put them around Wormtail's neck, and Wormtail lifted it. As he did so, his hood fell back, and Harry saw the look of revulsion on Wormtail's weak, pale face in the firelight as he carried the creature to the rim of the cauldron. For one moment, Harry saw the evil, flat face illuminated in the sparks dancing on the surface of the potion. And then Wormtail lowered the creature into the cauldron; there was a hiss, and it vanished below the surface; Harry heard its frail body hit the bottom with a soft thud. Let it drown, Harry thought, his scar burning almost past endurance, please. . . let it drown. . . . Wormtail was speaking. His voice shook; he seemed frightened beyond his wits. He raised his wand, closed his eyes, and spoke to the night. "Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son!" The surface of the grave at Harry's feet cracked. Horrified, Harry watched as a fine trickle of dust rose into the air at Wormtail's command and fell softly into the cauldron. The diamond surface of the water broke and hissed; it sent sparks in all directions and turned a vivid, poisonous- looking blue. And now Wormtail was whimpering. He pulled a long, thin, shining silver dagger from inside his cloak. His voice broke into petrified sobs. "Flesh - of the servant - w-willingly given - you will - revive - your master. " He stretched his right hand out in front of him - the hand with the missing finger. He gripped the dagger very tightly in his left hand and swung it upward. Harry realized what Wormtail was about to do a second before it happened - he closed his eyes as tightly as he could, but he could not block the scream that pierced the night, that went through Harry as though he had been stabbed with the dagger too. He heard something fall to the ground, heard Wormtail's anguished panting, then a sickening splash, as something was dropped into the cauldron. Harry couldn't stand to look . . . but the potion had turned a burning red; the light of it shone through Harry's closed eyelids. . . . Wormtail was gasping and moaning with agony. Not until Harry felt Wormtail's anguished breath on his face did he realize that Wormtail was right in front of him. "B-blood of the enemy . . . forcibly taken .. . you will. . . resurrect your foe." Harry could do nothing to prevent it, he was tied too tightly. . .. Squinting down, struggling hopelessly at the ropes binding him, he saw the shining silver dagger shaking in Wormtail's remaining hand. He felt its point penetrate the crook of his right arm and blood seeping down the sleeve of his torn robes. Wormtail, still panting with pain, rumbled in his pocket for a glass vial and held it to Harry's cut, so that a dribble of blood fell into it. He staggered back to the cauldron with Harry's blood. He poured it inside. The liquid within turned, instantly, a blinding white. Wormtail, his job done, dropped to his knees beside the cauldron, then slumped sideways and lay on the ground, cradling the bleeding stump of his arm, gasping and sobbing. The cauldron was simmering, sending its diamond sparks in all directions, so blindingly bright that it turned all else to velvety blackness. Nothing happened. . .
Let it have drowned, Harry thought, let it have gone wrong. . . And then, suddenly, the sparks emanating from the cauldron were extinguished. A surge of white steam billowed thickly from the cauldron instead, obliterating everything in front of Harry, so that he couldn't see Wormtail or Cedric or anything but vapor hanging in the air. ... it's gone wrong, he thought. . . it's drowned. .. please . . . please let it be dead. ... But then, through the mist in front of him, he saw, with an icy surge of terror, the dark outline of a man, tall and skeletally thin, rising slowly from inside the cauldron.
Harry awoke again as before drenched in cold sweat. Why did he have to be the one that Voldemort needed to destroy, more than anyone else? Why wasn't he successful in his attempts to kill Harry? Harry looked outside and saw the sun starting to rise. He decided that he wouldn't get any more sleep tonight, so he busied himself with getting dressed and waited for his jailers to open his cell door and get him started on his forced labor again.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hermione had told him that she had changed her mind and was staying in England to help him with his studying. For this he was grateful. The dreams came every night. The same dreams, the same pain in his scar, the same aching hole in his heart, and the same questions haunting his mind. Even with a steady flow of packages from Hermione and spending long nights studying. He still had the dreams no matter how tired he was. After a week of this he decided to write to Hermione about what was happening as this was not normal, even in the Wizarding world.
Hermione,
I have been having nightmares every night reliving the death of Cedric and the rebirth of Voldemort. I wake up in a cold sweat and with my scar hurting each time. I don't know how much longer I can take this. With the lack of sleep, lack of food and the enormous amount of chores I am totally spent. As it is I can hardly get any homework or studying done because I am so tired. Please send something to help, I'm desperate.
Harry
The next night Harry received her response attached to what looked like a thick chocolate bar.
Harry,
This is a high protein bar. Muggle athletes use them when they are training to help build muscle. This should help supplement what little the Dursleys are giving you. Eat the whole thing, I will send you one each night until things change. I talked with Dumbledore today about your situation and he says that his hands are tied at the moment. He asks you to hang in there, things will change for the better soon, just hang in there.
Harry, I am worried about you. Voldemort is starting to make his presence known. There are reports of the Dark Mark appearing every night all over England. Both muggles and wizards dead by the killing curse. All the occurrences are at residences with the last name of Potter or first name of Harry. He is looking for you Harry, stay safe.
Love, Hermione
"Just hang in there," he whispered harshly slamming his fist into his pillow "just hang in there, is that all they can do!?! I'll go crazy if nothing is done soon." At least Hermione was able to supplement his meager food supply. He ate half of the bar saving the other half for the morning. As Harry thought more on the letter something caught his eye, things will change for the better soon. Dumbledore was working on something but she couldn't say what or when. Here was his ray of hope.
A week went by and still nothing changed. Voldomort's attacks grew more frequent, even the muggle news started talking about the string of mysterious deaths. Harry was getting desperately thin and gaunt. The day before his birthday he looked at this reflection in the mirror of the bathroom, and he was scared of what he saw. Even with the protein bars that Hermione was sending he looked like death warmed over. Dumbledore had better do something really soon or the Dursleys will kill me before Voldemort has a chance, he thought to himself.
After his meager breakfast, he went out to the tool shed to get the lawn mower. Inside Hedwig was waiting for him with a letter. "Thanks girl," he said weakly to her and untied it from her leg. He opened it, and there were two pieces of parchment. The first one was blank and quite large almost a meter on each side but the second one was a note.
Harry,
Place the other piece of parchment over the bars on your window tonight. This way we can get all the gifts we have for you through the bars.
Fred & George
He looked more closely at the blank piece of parchment trying to figure out what it would do.
"BOY, are you going to stay in that shed all day or are you going to get some work done!?!" yelled Aunt Petunia. "Just looking for the gas for the mower Aunt Petunia," he lied back. He folded the parchments up and put them in his pocket. He would have to wait until tonight to find out how the parchment worked.
True to his word the next morning Vernon loaded all of Harry's school stuff and Hedwig's cage in the car and personally delivered it to the dump. Harry felt that a chapter in his life was closing. The Dursleys were if anything worse to him than ever before. Petunia started piling on the chores and cutting back on his food. Dudley even had his crowd of friends come over and made fun of Harry as he worked inside and outside of the house all day. When the day was finished, he took his bread and water and dragged himself upstairs and ate in silence. He looked out the window of his room and noticed that the bars had even been put up again, and he heard the lock being set on the outside of his door. He was a prisoner in his room again.
Hedwig perched herself on the bars outside his window and scratched at it to get his attention. He looked at her and noticed a long thin package attached to her leg dangling between the bars. He quietly opened the window, so he could access his faithful friend and relieve her of her burden.
He opened the package and to his surprise it contained a travel flask of ink, an eagle feather quill and a few tightly rolled pieces of parchment. Attached to the flask was a small note.
Harry,
Here are some things that you might need. Let us know what is happening. The flask is charmed to contain a never ending supply of ink and the parchment will replenish itself as needed. Professor Dumbledore told me of your situation, so I thought that these would be helpful. I will be sending you some information from our books and copies of my notes from last term, so you can at least study at night. Let me know how wide the bars are on your window, so I don't send anything too big.
Love, Hermione
Harry's heart was lightened by this small but important delivery. Leave it to Hermione to figure out a way to allow him to keep in touch with the Wizarding world and still get his homework done. He took the note and turned it over to write a reply. The first thing he did was measure the width of the bars by using the edge of the parchment. He also marked the height between the cross members of the bars so she knew how much room she had to work with.
Hermione,
You clever little witch. I am reminded of something that Ron's dad said once "Doesn't miss a trick that man Dumbledore." Leave it to him to let you know what was happening, so you could figure out a way to get some stuff to me. I marked the height and width of the space in the bars on my window on the edge of this parchment. Are you still planning to visit Krum in Bulgaria? The Dursleys are worse than ever now. They are starving me again, have taken all my stuff to the dump, and are enrolling me in Stonewall High. They will not let me go back to Hogwarts.
Harry
He folded up the parchment and tied it to Hedwig's leg. "Take this to Hermione, please girl," he said to her. She flew off into the night. He watched her fly until he couldn't see her anymore. He put the ink, quill and parchment under the loose floorboard to keep them safe. He finished his dinner and crawled into bed to get some sleep. He was out before his head hit the pillow.
Cedric looked down at the Triwizard Cup and then up at Harry. "Did anyone tell you the cup was a Portkey?" he asked. "Nope," said Harry. He was looking around the graveyard. It was completely silent and slightly eerie. "Is this supposed to be part of the task?" "I dunno," said Cedric. He sounded slightly nervous. "Wands out, d'you reckon?" "Yeah," said Harry, glad that Cedric had made the suggestion rather than him. They pulled out their wands. Harry kept looking around him. He had, yet again, the strange feeling that they were being watched. "Someone's coming," he said suddenly. Squinting tensely through the darkness, they watched the figure drawing nearer, walking steadily toward them between the graves. Harry couldn't make out a face, but from the way it was walking and holding its arms, he could tell that it was carrying something. Whoever it was, he was short, and wearing a hooded cloak pulled up over his head to obscure his face. And - several paces nearer, the gap between them closing all the time, - Harry saw that the thing in the persons' arms looked like a baby ... or was it merely a bundle of robes? Harry lowered his wand slightly and glanced sideways at Cedric. Cedric shot him a quizzical look. They both turned back to watch the approaching figure. It stopped beside a towering marble headstone, only six feet from them. For a second Harry and Cedric and the short figure simply looked at one another. And then, without warning, Harry's scar exploded with pain. It was agony such as he had never felt in all his life; his wand slipped from his fingers as he put his hands over his face; his knees buckled; he was on the ground and could see nothing at all; his head was about to split open. From far away, above his head, he heard a high cold voice say, "Kill the spare." A swishing noise and a second voice, which screeched the words to the night: "Avada Kedavra!" A blast of green light blazed through Harry's eyelids, and he heard something heavy fall to the ground beside him; the pain in his scar reached such a pitch that he retched, and then it diminished. Terrified of what he was about to see, he opened his stinging eyes. Cedric was lying spread-eagled on the ground beside him. He was dead.
Harry awoke in a cold sweat and his scar pounding. He remembered the dream and started to cry. He didn't want Cedric dead. He didn't want anyone to die because of him again. The pain in his heart echoed the pain in his scar. He lost his parents because of who he was. He lost a friend for who he was and Cho would never speak to him again. Harry was more depressed than he had ever been in the past. Even with a channel now open to the Wizarding world he still was so far down that he didn't think that he could get up anymore.
Harry eventually dozed off only to have another nightmare.
"It is ready, Master." "Now ..." said the cold voice. Wormtail pulled open the robes on the ground, revealing what was inside them, and Harry let out a yell that was strangled in the wad of material blocking his mouth. It was as though Wormtail had flipped over a stone and revealed something ugly, slimy, and blind - but worse, a hundred times worse. The thing Wormtail had been carrying had the shape of a crouched human child, except that Harry had never seen anything less like a child. It was hairless and scaly-looking, a dark, raw, reddish black. Its arms and legs were thin and feeble, and its face - no child alive ever had a face like that - flat and snakelike, with gleaming red eyes. The thing seemed almost helpless; it raised its thin arms, put them around Wormtail's neck, and Wormtail lifted it. As he did so, his hood fell back, and Harry saw the look of revulsion on Wormtail's weak, pale face in the firelight as he carried the creature to the rim of the cauldron. For one moment, Harry saw the evil, flat face illuminated in the sparks dancing on the surface of the potion. And then Wormtail lowered the creature into the cauldron; there was a hiss, and it vanished below the surface; Harry heard its frail body hit the bottom with a soft thud. Let it drown, Harry thought, his scar burning almost past endurance, please. . . let it drown. . . . Wormtail was speaking. His voice shook; he seemed frightened beyond his wits. He raised his wand, closed his eyes, and spoke to the night. "Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son!" The surface of the grave at Harry's feet cracked. Horrified, Harry watched as a fine trickle of dust rose into the air at Wormtail's command and fell softly into the cauldron. The diamond surface of the water broke and hissed; it sent sparks in all directions and turned a vivid, poisonous- looking blue. And now Wormtail was whimpering. He pulled a long, thin, shining silver dagger from inside his cloak. His voice broke into petrified sobs. "Flesh - of the servant - w-willingly given - you will - revive - your master. " He stretched his right hand out in front of him - the hand with the missing finger. He gripped the dagger very tightly in his left hand and swung it upward. Harry realized what Wormtail was about to do a second before it happened - he closed his eyes as tightly as he could, but he could not block the scream that pierced the night, that went through Harry as though he had been stabbed with the dagger too. He heard something fall to the ground, heard Wormtail's anguished panting, then a sickening splash, as something was dropped into the cauldron. Harry couldn't stand to look . . . but the potion had turned a burning red; the light of it shone through Harry's closed eyelids. . . . Wormtail was gasping and moaning with agony. Not until Harry felt Wormtail's anguished breath on his face did he realize that Wormtail was right in front of him. "B-blood of the enemy . . . forcibly taken .. . you will. . . resurrect your foe." Harry could do nothing to prevent it, he was tied too tightly. . .. Squinting down, struggling hopelessly at the ropes binding him, he saw the shining silver dagger shaking in Wormtail's remaining hand. He felt its point penetrate the crook of his right arm and blood seeping down the sleeve of his torn robes. Wormtail, still panting with pain, rumbled in his pocket for a glass vial and held it to Harry's cut, so that a dribble of blood fell into it. He staggered back to the cauldron with Harry's blood. He poured it inside. The liquid within turned, instantly, a blinding white. Wormtail, his job done, dropped to his knees beside the cauldron, then slumped sideways and lay on the ground, cradling the bleeding stump of his arm, gasping and sobbing. The cauldron was simmering, sending its diamond sparks in all directions, so blindingly bright that it turned all else to velvety blackness. Nothing happened. . .
Let it have drowned, Harry thought, let it have gone wrong. . . And then, suddenly, the sparks emanating from the cauldron were extinguished. A surge of white steam billowed thickly from the cauldron instead, obliterating everything in front of Harry, so that he couldn't see Wormtail or Cedric or anything but vapor hanging in the air. ... it's gone wrong, he thought. . . it's drowned. .. please . . . please let it be dead. ... But then, through the mist in front of him, he saw, with an icy surge of terror, the dark outline of a man, tall and skeletally thin, rising slowly from inside the cauldron.
Harry awoke again as before drenched in cold sweat. Why did he have to be the one that Voldemort needed to destroy, more than anyone else? Why wasn't he successful in his attempts to kill Harry? Harry looked outside and saw the sun starting to rise. He decided that he wouldn't get any more sleep tonight, so he busied himself with getting dressed and waited for his jailers to open his cell door and get him started on his forced labor again.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hermione had told him that she had changed her mind and was staying in England to help him with his studying. For this he was grateful. The dreams came every night. The same dreams, the same pain in his scar, the same aching hole in his heart, and the same questions haunting his mind. Even with a steady flow of packages from Hermione and spending long nights studying. He still had the dreams no matter how tired he was. After a week of this he decided to write to Hermione about what was happening as this was not normal, even in the Wizarding world.
Hermione,
I have been having nightmares every night reliving the death of Cedric and the rebirth of Voldemort. I wake up in a cold sweat and with my scar hurting each time. I don't know how much longer I can take this. With the lack of sleep, lack of food and the enormous amount of chores I am totally spent. As it is I can hardly get any homework or studying done because I am so tired. Please send something to help, I'm desperate.
Harry
The next night Harry received her response attached to what looked like a thick chocolate bar.
Harry,
This is a high protein bar. Muggle athletes use them when they are training to help build muscle. This should help supplement what little the Dursleys are giving you. Eat the whole thing, I will send you one each night until things change. I talked with Dumbledore today about your situation and he says that his hands are tied at the moment. He asks you to hang in there, things will change for the better soon, just hang in there.
Harry, I am worried about you. Voldemort is starting to make his presence known. There are reports of the Dark Mark appearing every night all over England. Both muggles and wizards dead by the killing curse. All the occurrences are at residences with the last name of Potter or first name of Harry. He is looking for you Harry, stay safe.
Love, Hermione
"Just hang in there," he whispered harshly slamming his fist into his pillow "just hang in there, is that all they can do!?! I'll go crazy if nothing is done soon." At least Hermione was able to supplement his meager food supply. He ate half of the bar saving the other half for the morning. As Harry thought more on the letter something caught his eye, things will change for the better soon. Dumbledore was working on something but she couldn't say what or when. Here was his ray of hope.
A week went by and still nothing changed. Voldomort's attacks grew more frequent, even the muggle news started talking about the string of mysterious deaths. Harry was getting desperately thin and gaunt. The day before his birthday he looked at this reflection in the mirror of the bathroom, and he was scared of what he saw. Even with the protein bars that Hermione was sending he looked like death warmed over. Dumbledore had better do something really soon or the Dursleys will kill me before Voldemort has a chance, he thought to himself.
After his meager breakfast, he went out to the tool shed to get the lawn mower. Inside Hedwig was waiting for him with a letter. "Thanks girl," he said weakly to her and untied it from her leg. He opened it, and there were two pieces of parchment. The first one was blank and quite large almost a meter on each side but the second one was a note.
Harry,
Place the other piece of parchment over the bars on your window tonight. This way we can get all the gifts we have for you through the bars.
Fred & George
He looked more closely at the blank piece of parchment trying to figure out what it would do.
"BOY, are you going to stay in that shed all day or are you going to get some work done!?!" yelled Aunt Petunia. "Just looking for the gas for the mower Aunt Petunia," he lied back. He folded the parchments up and put them in his pocket. He would have to wait until tonight to find out how the parchment worked.