Tile: chaunt du cygne

Author: illusory

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the property of J. K. Rowling and I'm just playing for my own amusement. I don't own anything except the little original things in this story and well the story it's self.

Rating: R (I think not sure where the line is crossed)

Warning: This is pre-slash, but will not even show a hint of it (sorry). There will be violence, gore, angst galore, contemplative and attempted suicide, language, and death.

Author's Notes: Chapter three is just a short one, kind of a teaser.

A/N # 2: I changed some things in the chapter, mainly just the end; I changed it, and then fix some spelling and grammatical errors. Other then that everything is the same.

Waking Nightmares

Endless corridors, lit with an eerie light that plays softly against the ceaseless walls. Someone's running down the hall. Breath coming in short pants. Sweat trickles down, beading along the way and dropping to the ground in quiet rhythm with breath and hollow pounding of feet. Fleeing, chasing, I can't tell. Something comes up to meet me. Black, big, huge, engulfing, it doesn't end. It's here and still it comes, unrelenting. It fills my vision. I can't see anything, but black oblivion. Nothing.

I wake, sweating and panting, lightly, barely audible in the humming silence of the dorm. Neville snores and Dean shifts almost continuously. Ron mutters something in his sleep and all is right.

Gradually my heart slows to match the steady hum. My eyes close and I feel sleep lap ravenously at the edge of my conscious. I can't bring myself back and sleep takes me in her clutches once more.

An airy room spans out in all directions. Voldemort stands in front of bay windows twirling a glass of red wine, I think, swaying slightly to a tune that plays in another room. Something old, I've not heard it before, but it's calm and soothing, with a scratchy hiss that blurs the edges, like an old record, worn with age and use.

"Wormtail." A pleasant hiss, almost invitingly warm, issues from reptilian lips.

"Y-yes, my Lord?" The rat bows down to Voldemort, scrapping against the cold stone floor, upon a spot bereft of rugs and the warmth that radiates through the room.

"Were you able to find it?"

"No, my Lord." The response is barely audible.

"I don't believe I heard you quite right. What did you say?" The once pleasant voice turns icy, the hiss becoming more pronounced.

"N-no, m-my lord." The rat stutters, the response is louder, but only just.

"Crucio."

I fall with Wormtail to the ground shuttering as the curse races through every nerve, burning the edges with excruciating pain. My teeth grind together to keep in my scream of pain as Wormtail wails and thrashes upon the ground. The curse is let up and I lay there gasping for breath untainted with pain, staring at the snake-faced monstrosity before me.

"The book, Wormtail. I need that book and you're going to do anything it takes to get it for me, aren't you?" Voldemort's eyes narrow further as he states the question as a fact.

"Y-y-yes my, L-lor-lord!"

"Good." Voldemort turns away from the shriveling rat and sips from his glass slowly.

Taking this as his dismissal, Wormtail wobbles to his feet and rushes as quickly as possible toward the door he entered from.

"Oh, and Wormtail." The Dark Lord addresses the rat in a silky voice filled with dark promise.

Wormtail turns to face Voldemort, nearly tripping over himself in haste.

"Ye-yes, my Lord?"

"Don't fail me a second time. I won't be so lenient."

"Yes, my Lord. Of course n-not."

"Crucio."

Again we fall and I pull at my hair desperately trying not to focus more then necessary on the pain, but I can't keep the scream from coming any more.

"Just a reminder. If you fail me again this will be nothing in comparison to the torture I will put you through."

The curse stops and Wormtail stutters the faithful 'Yes, my Lord.' Leaving with as much haste as possible with his constant shaking. I'm not in much better shape and lay gasping on the ground. Darkness bleeds across my sight and I sigh in relief as the vision starts to fade.

For the second time this night I lay sweating and panting in bed. Only this time I'd woken everyone in the dorm with my screaming.

I'd awoken with Ron standing over me, a look of horror on his face, Seamus sitting in his bed glaring daggers at me, Dean across the room unable to look at me, and Neville standing just behind Ron sniffling. For a moment I just stared up into Ron's eyes silently begging him to forget this ever happened and to go back to sleep. Unfortunately that didn't happen. Instead Seamus decided it would be a good time to make some sarcastic comment toward me, though what he said never really registered in my mind, the Cruciatus curse has a tendency to befuddle the mind like that, but Ron had taken the distraction and nearly pounced on Seamus knocking Neville out of the way in his rush to strangle the Irish boy.

Neville moves out of the way of the fighting boys and decides to come over my way.

"Hey, Harry. Umm… th-that must have been some nightmare, huh?"

Ron and Seamus still, likely waiting for me to answer.

I smile slowly at Neville. "Yeah, it was some nightmare. Bloody horrible."

"Are you going to be alright?" Neville sits beside me on my bed looking very serious in his faded flannel pajamas and sleep tousled hair, small frown on his face in place of the soft smile that is normally on his face.

"Of course he isn't going to be alright, Neville." Seamus sneers down at me and I can't stay laying anymore, not with him scrutinizing me like that. "He's mad."

"Seamus-"

"No!" Seamus interrupts Dean who'd moved between Ron and Seamus, no doubt to keep them from going at it again. "I don't know how all of you can stand to be around him! After what happened last year."

I flinch at his words, but move to get up quickly in hopes of hiding my reaction. I should have known this would happen. I shouldn't let it bother me. Fatigue washes through me and I shake all over, the force of it nearly making me fall down. Neville grabs my arms and gives me a hand out of bed, keeping me steady.

"Harry?" Ron comes closer with a concerned look on his face. "Harry, you're shaking like a leaf."

He's right. Bloody after affects, that curse is a nuisance. I shrug off the matter and lean casually against Neville. I can stand on my own. I can. I'm just leaning against Neville because I want the comfort, not that I need it. I just want it. Sure, I'll just keep telling myself that and maybe if I try real hard, I'll believe it.

Ron is trying to take me from Neville, but really I wish he wouldn't make it so obvious that I actually might need help to keep from falling down.

"What's wrong, Potter? A bit unstable?" Seamus again, taunting.

Ron tenses beside me and I just sigh at the uselessness of this situation.

"Seamus I'm not sure where you heard that I'm going mad, from the papers no doubt, but I'm fine. I really am. Just shaken after what happened, but I'm still fine."

"Yeah, a bit too fine I think."

I frown a little not sure of what he's talking about.

"You say that you went against You-Know-Who and that he killed Cedric, but you came back without a scratch, completely unharmed. You're lying Potter and the Minister knows it. He's just waiting till he can prove it and when he does the Aurors are going to be coming for you."

"Where are you getting your information from, Finngin? The Daily Prophet? Well then they'd be wrong and only a fool would believe them." Ron hisses at Seamus and really I wish he wouldn't. It reminds me of Voldemort.

Seamus flushes red and snarls at Ron and glares at me.

"Are you calling my mum a fool?"

"If the shoe fits."

I almost smile at the muggle phrase Ron learned from Hermione. Seamus however obviously isn't amused by Ron's witty retort and stalks over toward us. Neville backs away from the storm that is Seamus Finngin.

"Take it back, Weasley." Seamus pushes his fingerer into Ron as though to some how empathize his demand.

"No."

"Weasley."

I should probably do something about this before it gets out of hand. That might be a bit hard though since I'm trapped between Ron and Seamus and I have a feeling I'll fall flat on my face without Ron's support.

"Seamus, this is just a misunderstan-"

"Shut-up, Potter!"

"Hey, don't talk to Harry like that!"

Ron is so not helping.

"Take it back!"

"Why should I?"

"Ron, Seamus stop this now!"

"I said shut-up Potter. Or are you unable to understand English now?"

This time I flush red in anger. This is ridiculous!

"Stop being such an arse. So you think I'm going mad? Well go ahead and think it! I really don't care, but have enough decency to keep you're opinions to yourself!"

"As long as you're waking everyone up with your bloody screaming, I think I have a reason to say something."

"I'll make sure it doesn't happen again. It's not as though I enjoy having the bloody things."

"Good, that means you're leaving."

"No, it doesn't. Seamus can we just go back to bed and talk, reasonably, about this later."

"No, we can't. I want you gone, Potter." Seamus grabs me from Ron. "The sooner you're gone, the sooner everyone is safe."

I grab Seamus' hand and try and get him to let go of my shirt. He just bats my hand away and sneers down at me. He's frightening me. I don't like that he can so easily bush away my attempts to break away, but I keep trying.

"Let Harry go, Finngin." Seamus sneers at Ron.

"No."

Dean starts to move toward us. "Seamus may-"

"Stay out of this Dean." And he stops.

I can't take much more of this. It reminds me too much of being helpless in the past. I struggle more, but it isn't helping. I'm too small, too weak and I can't do anything. I can feel someone behind me and that horrible caged feeling surrounds me. I can't help but lash out with hands and feet. Suddenly I'm let go and I drop to the ground falling on my arse.

"You little bastard! You kicked me!" Seamus is holding his stomach glaring down at me.

Seems like he got the wind knock out of him, pity I hadn't managed to hit lower.

Ron helps me to my feet and I actually manage to stand on my own now. I move away from Ron trying to get rid of that caged feeling.

I look up and see Seamus stalking over toward me again and as he gets closer he raises his fist, but Dean rushes over latching onto him. He manages to get a fist past as Dean tries to drag him away. I see it coming as though time is slowing down and I swear I have forever to move out of the way of the descending fist. But then there's a blur and movement starts again and the fist crashes against the side of my face. I'm not looking at Seamus struggling against Dean anymore, but Ron rushing toward me and behind him Neville stands tears running down his face, confusion shining in his eyes.

"You're no better then any Death Eater, Potter. Worse even. Mad in the head and gladly following You-Know-Who, no doubt. Lot a good your mum's sacrifice did. It would have been better if she'd let you die."

Seamus glares at me, but stops struggling against Dean. The room echoes in silence.

That... hurt. I blink once, twice and try to ignore the sharp bitter edged pain that stabs through me and twists with savage joy. Better to concentrate on the throbbing pain that washes through the side of my face. I can't look away from his angry eyes, intent in his fury. But why, why would one of my friends think that? Someone I had trusted.

I don't have to gather the courage, shame, to look away, because Ron tilts my head toward him and stares carefully into my eyes. Perhaps reading what he can find within them. It lasts for a moment before he lets out a low whistle.

"That'll be quite a shiner, Harry."

Alright, that was fun. Cut off the chapter sooner then I thought I was going to, but oh well. It fits and I'm going to leave it like that. Chapter four hopefully won't take too long now that summer's here. That chapter will probably cover the rest of the day and maybe more.

Thank you, those who reviewed:

Ouroboros Vipertooth

elsa3beth

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