Chapter 8: Nightmares and Dreamscapes

It was a particularly wet and muddy day for an autumn evening, and Harry wasn't in the best of moods. His robes were all water-logged and clung to his skin, and he could hardly see his team mates even though Hermione had spelled his glasses for him again much less see the golf balls the twins had spelled for Ron for Seeker practice. They had spent the last hour frozen on a broomstick, and Harry was beginning to daydream longingly of the squishy warmth of the armchairs in front of the fire in the Gryffindor Common Room, but Ron was still pushing the team with so much zeal and fervour he'd probably have driven even Oliver Wood up the wall.

Struggling to hold his broom straight, he circled above the goalposts, trying to spot Ron in the blinding sheets of rain.

"Ron!" he shouted blindly. "I think we ought to stop this practice session for today."

There was a loud clap of thunder and Ron's reply was lost in the howling wind.

"Ron!"

"Save it, Harry." Kera called from somewhere below him. "He's not stopping." With that she dipped her broom downwards and soared down onto the mud-splattered pitch.

And in a trice, Ron was swooping down at her.

"Where do you think you're going?" he bellowed. She ignored him and continued trudging towards the warmth and shelter of the castle.

"Ron, don't think we ought to stop for today?" Harry asked, landing with the rest of his team mates. They nodded in agreement, looking miserable and bedraggled.

"What are the lot of you doing down here? Go back up! Go on!" Ron yelled, his face turning the same shade as the hair plastered all over his face.

"But…" began one of the new Beaters timidly.

"But what?" Ron said, glaring at him. "How do you expect to deal with the Slytherins in the match after Christmas?" Ron roared at them.

"They've been trying their best." Katie said with an encouraging smile at the new additions to the team.

"That's not good enough!" Ron barked. Gayle looked close to tears.

"Ron, you've got to give them some time." Harry interrupted, placing a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Give it a rest today."

"I'm the captain, not you." Ron spat as he shrugged Harry's hand off, his normally mild blue eyes burning with a strange fire. "No matter how much you wish you were."

"I don't want to be captain." Harry protested, taken aback by Ron's sudden hostility.

"Oh come off it," Ron sneered. "Don't make yourself out to be so high and mighty."

"Hey! You're being unfair to him and you know that." Katie said, jumping to Harry's defence.

"Fine! I'm unfair, everything's my fault! Why don't you all just follow the Great Harry Potter?" Ron snapped as stomp back out to the pitch in the rain.

The Gryffindor team exchanged apprehensive looks in the awkward silence that followed.

"What's up with Ron?" Katie asked.

"Beats me." Harry frowned.

"You'd better be keeping an eye on Weasley, Harry." Kera said quietly, her eyes narrowed.

"What do you mean?"

"Isn't it obvious that there's something amiss? Unless you're saying he does this all the time."

"Are you suggesting that Ron's under some sort of spell?" Harry asked, getting even more worried.

"And I hope we find out what it is before he becomes a danger to the both of us."

*~*~~*~**~*~*~~*

Shadows writhed in a strange dance in the odd, greenish gloom. A hideously elaborate throne carved with twisting serpents was set in the middle of the chamber, and in the deathly quiet, the only sounds were the popping of apparition as the chamber began to fill up with black-robed and masked figures.

A strange hissing began to fill the damp air, soft at first, then gradually getting louder and clearer, with a distinctive form, sounding like some sort of made-up language. Then one of the coils began to move, as if the carvings had come alive.

A large serpent moved sluggishly forward, as if drugged by the cold clammy air, coming to rest at the foot of the throne. It lifted its head within the reach of a pale and skeletal hand…a hand that belonged to the greatest Dark Lord of all time.

"Nagini," he sighed, stroking the reptile's head fondly. The snake made a strange hissing noise the way a cat might have purred.

"You have heard, of course, about the attack on Hogwarts by my legion of dark creatures." Voldemort addressed the Death Eaters, his livid scarlet eyes half closed as Nagini curled up at his feet. "The attack that ended in a spectacular defeat at the hands of mere students."

The hushed silence was broken only by ominous wet crunching noises and an eerie crooning from the shadows.

"You must wonder why I've led such a weak horde of brainless creatures on this siege, and why I've let myself be foiled once again by Dumbledore." Voldemort said with a thin smile, scanning the prostrating figures of his followers for the faint stiffening of guilt.

"Perhaps you, my faithful, like the rest of the wizarding world, doubt my power and believe me weakened!" Voldemort snarled, his voice rising in a crescendo to echo in the hall as the Death Eaters scrambled to bow low with murmurs of denial.

"I have waited fifteen years for this. Fifteen long years." Voldemort said, his fist clenched and his face twisted in fury. "What's another few more?"

"Do you mean to say, My Lord, that the beasts were but a distraction?" A tall cloaked and masked figure in the front row nearest to the throne asked.

"I see I have not favoured you of all my Death Eaters for nothing." Voldemort hissed in satisfaction.

"I realised, of course, that I had been too hasty when I had first obtained a physical form. Too eager to crush that brat that had been living on borrowed time all this while, when I should have set my sights on more important things."

"You have a plan, My Lord?" a female voice asked.

"Indeed, Bellatrix." The Dark Lord said, his serpentine face contorting to bestow upon her what might have been a smile.

"Wormtail!" Voldemort called sharply.

A short, balding man with greying hair, a pointed nose, and small, watery eyes crept out of the darkness behind the throne, a silvery hand shinning slightly through his robe sleeves.

"Y-yes, My Lord?"

"Relate the prophecy you obtained from the Chalice of Morgan Le Fay."

"One from a time beyond this time, one who lives in a world beyond this world, one with a darkness beyond th-this d-darkness. The Children of Lughnasadh will r-r-rise as one, but only as one." Wormtail recited haltingly amidst the surprised whisperings among the Death Eaters.

"There are two others besides the Potter boy?" the woman he had called Bellatrix asked.

"The second one we already know." The figure nearest to the throne spoke again. "It is the last Ladon, Snape's ward."

"Does he imagine he can keep her safe from us his fellow Death Eaters?" Bellatrix laughed derisively.

"Our fallen brother has no cause for worry," The man replied, a nasty smile forming under the mask. "She will be well taken care of."

"Now find me the last one and kill him before that muggle-loving fool Dumbledore finds out who it is." Voldemort ordered. The cloaked figures mumbled their assent.

"The rest of you may leave. Lucius?"

"Yes, My Lord?" the man who had spoken before came forward to kiss the helm of the Dark Lord's cloak.

"Rise. About your son..."

"I have informed him of his duty, My Lord."

"He better not disappoint again, Lucius. Or I will have to question the usefulness of the Malfoy clan in my great plans."

"I understand, My Lord, I will make sure he does not fail you again."

Voldemort nodded imperiously. "My thanks to your Narcissa for her valuable information. She shall be rewarded."

"Thank you, My Lord." Lucius murmured, and disapparated after the rest of his fellow Death Eaters.

"Wormtail."

"M-my Lord?"

"How did your young master take to seeing his little pet rat again?"

"He doesn't remember seeing me." Wormtail answered, his face flushed.

"And young Malfoy?"

"I-I used Oblivate—"

"Wormtail...what have I told you about using memory spells?" Voldemort asked, his tone dangerous.

"I...I thought—"

"You hoped he would be killed." Voldemort finished for him. Deimos looked up from Karkaroff's mangled and putrid body and grinned expectantly with his mouthful of razor-sharp teeth. Wormtail shivered.

"No matter. He will join his father as one of my faithful followers in time." Voldemort said with a dismissive air, and Wormtail almost heaved a sigh of relief. Almost.

The Dark Lord turned his soulless red eyes towards Wormtail, and Wormtail had a sinking feeling that he hadn't been forgiven after all.

"But for your negligence... crucio."

Miles away underground in the cool Slytherin dorms, Draco Malfoy woke up uncharacteristically drenched with sweat from the strange dream he had just had...about Weasel? He tried to figure out why and what he would be dreaming about the red-haired lout of all people, but the dream was already fading.

Probably just too much Halloween candy, he decided. With a scowl of annoyance directed at the loudly snoring Goyle, he turned over and went back to sleep.

[A/N: I wanted to post this earlier but ffnet died on me. Well my Uni term has just started… lots of things to do, so at best I'll take at least a month to post each chapter from now on. Sorry about that =)

The Bellatrix mentioned here is of course Mrs. Lestrange.]