Harry drifted off to sleep again.
"Take my body, Harry ...."
"Bow to death, Harry - it may even be painless..."
"He's gone. Sirius is gone."
A blur of painful memories assaulted Harry in his sleep, which was the very reason that he did not want to sleep. He had stayed up as long as he could, in the common room, staring blankly into the fire as if it contained the world's secrets. Yet, despite his hours of staring, Harry had not managed to glean anything from it. Part of him had been longing for another glimpse of Sirius' head in the fire, even though it would never come.
Harry's memories reeled like a roll of film, in chronological order. It began with the images of his parents, waving to him through the Mirror of Erised. They were swallowed by a burst of acid green light, and the horrific scene of his parent's death melted into the graveyard, where he had seen Cedric die and Voldemort return from his state of semi-consciousness. That faded into the memories of his hands, bleeding with the message 'I will not lie,' which gave way to the scene imprinted in his brain forever - the Department of Mysteries.
Another night of nightmares caused Harry to awake with a start, breathing heavily as beads of sweat rolled down his forehead, making their separate incisions as they went, slowly. His vision blurred, Harry fumbled for the glasses that he knew he had placed on his night stand, just an hour or so before. With a shaking, sweating hand, he placed them on, and objects came into sharper focus. Luckily, his dorm mates were far into their peaceful Neverlands, and hadn't the slightest care in the world that one of their fellows had driven himself into nightmares and cold sweats.
Quietly, Harry crept to the water jug, positioned just underneath the window. He only dared to pour himself a sip's worth, and in one gulp he drained it, being as cautious as he could to make the least noise possible. Despite the papers' portrayal of him as a 'tragic little hero constantly vying for attention,' Harry wanted nothing of the sort. Giving in to his former impulses, Harry crept out of the dormitory, daring to move only about a step per minute as he crept down the silent corridor.
Gingerly, Harry tested his weight on the first stair. After it did not creak, he gained confidence with each step, and soon found himself standing at the foot of the stairs. Here, Harry thought that he would be able to breathe a bit easier, though he was instead shocked by the presence of a first year, her white blonde curls plastered to her pale forehead. By the appearance of things, she had been crying. Though Harry knew he could not be seen, covered in the shadows, he wiped the sweat from his forehead on the back of his pajamas sleeve.
Blinking, Harry thought for a moment about whether or not he should head back upstairs, but resisting the urge to do so, he stepped forward into the light. "Umm ... hi," was all that he could manage for the present situation. Dazedly, the girl blinked back up at him, her large blue eyes rimmed with tears. She looks so familiar, but I could have sworn that we've never met, Harry thought to himself. To the girl, he added, "What's your name?"
"C-Catherine W-Wellington," she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper, wiping her tearstained face on the back of a lacy sleeve of her night gown. "You don't have to tell me who you are - I already know, Harry Potter." Harry had grown used to this, so he settled on a polite nod, before crossing the room and sitting himself in a chair before the girl. This whole situation was a little unexpected for him, though it was much better than returning to his tortured dreams. He noticed that they grew more detailed, as if he could actually feel them all over again. Each time, his scar would sear with pain.
Sadly, Harry smiled at the girl. Obviously that was where he had recognized the young girl - she was a spitting image of his enigmatic Transfiguration professor, Charna Wellington. This had to be her daughter then. "What's wrong?" Harry inquired politely, fixing his emerald green eyes on the girl. She seemed to mature, too worn before her years. She seemed so reserved, yet when Harry posed that question, it punctured everything and the dam of her reserve crumbled. First, she swore Harry to secrecy, not even knowing why really she told her thoughts to a 'tragic hero boy.' After Harry had sworn his secrecy, she relived for him the events of the evening.
"Mother please!" Catherine cried, pleading with her mother.
"Don't you trouble me with your weeping! I have enough to worry about, you silly girl. Whatever is wrong with you? Getting into Gryffindor - I raised you better than that! You are pitiful - what would my father say about his grandchild? Probably that you're as much of a disgrace as my brother, who married a filthy mud blood rather than accept who he was, and what he was. You are no Wellington! Get out of my sight!" Charna spat, pacing around her decorated room rather angrily.
"Not everything is the way you want it! You know what, I met Harry Potter on the train, and he's a nice person!" Catherine spat, angry, her tiny fists balled into forces of fury. Charna raised a hand, and smacked the girl across the face.
"You will learn your place! You answer to no one but me, is that understood?" Catherine nodded slowly, beginning to cry. "Weak girl - I should have sent you to Durmstrang, to get these ideas about Harry Potter out of your head. The boy is a tragic little hero - stay away from him."
"Yes, mother," Catherine finally gave in, leaving her mother's office. 'Hell of a year this is going to be,' she thought to herself.
Looking up nervously, Catherine wrung her hands in her lap. "I don't believe what she says about you," she offered.
Harry was a bit dazed, not the least bit skilled with consolations. Through one of the windows, the sun had begun to break the horizon. "Look, this is Hogwarts. Your mum's a professor, so what? You have freedom at Hogwarts." Catherine smiled, needing only those simple sentences to cheer her up. Harry muttered something about waking his friends, before he took leave of the girl and headed upstairs.