Disclaimer: This stuff is all Jo Rowling's, really, and there's not a darned thing I can do about it.

A/N: Many thanks to my reviewers whom I love—eight glasses of apple juice for you all. I promised you'd get a chapter today, but I'm rather disappointed with it myself. Quite a bit more fluffy than the melodramatic tone of the past chapters... well, some at least. Oh well... a story can't be all action, so we're just building it up. I hope you enjoy it, and if you have any ideas, questions, or corrections, just put them in your review (because I know you'll all review me, since you're so great). Oh yeah, and sorry about the lame ending... I'll make it up to y'all, I promise. Enjoy!

Dreams and O.W.L.s

Harry slept fitfully for most of the next week, tortured by new and more horrible dreams than ever. Memories of Cedric, Sirius, and even the Dursleys replayed endlessly in his mind, and the boy-who-lived always awoke gasping in terror, usually clutching his scar. His friends would all try to reassure him that everything was okay in an attempt to coax him back to sleep, but they were truly worried for his sake. They had heard him muttering in his sleep, and they could tell he was haunted by things they couldn't begin to understand.

After one particularly bad nightmare, Harry woke suddenly to find Hermione, Ron, and Ginny staring at him in horror.

"Harry, mate," began Ron, who was ghastly pale, "What-- what was that all about?" Hermione sat next to him, looking as though she was holding back tears.

"Did you..." Harry's voice trailed off as he recounted the nightmare in his head. He had been back in the Department of Mysteries, and everyone he knew was passing silently through the veil. Voldemort, Peter, and Bellatrix stood laughing in the shadows, appearing the same as on his birthday, and the pale ghosted figure of Sybil Trelawney floated before them, reciting the prophecy just as she had in Dumbledore's pensieve.

"You were just muttering, at first," said Ginny softly, the terror fading from her face.

Harry closed his eyes in disbelief. In his dream he had yelled helplessly at Voldemort; how much had he said aloud?

"You said something about the prophecy, and then you started screaming our names," elaborated Hermione weakly.

The image of his friends disappearing through the veil came back to him; he hadn't been able to move to save them. "Is that all I said?" he asked, unsure of whether or not he wanted to hear the answer.

Ron looked nervously at Hermione before responding. "You just kept saying, 'Don't take them', and then you said something about it all being your fault," he mumbled, looking thoroughly shaken.

Harry lay back down on the bed. They had listened to it all; every word he screamed at Voldemort they had heard.

"Harry," started Hermione tentatively, "what were you saying about the prophecy?"

Immediately, Harry sat up and stared at her in horror. He didn't want to tell them, not yet, and especially not in front of Ginny. How could he had let something so important slip, even in his sleep? "I—I heard part of it when it smashed," he stammered unconvincingly, and the look on Hermione's face made it clear that she didn't believe him. Harry sent her a pleading look and she thankfully dropped the matter, but he knew it would be discussed again later. Sometimes he wished his friends weren't so perceptive.

"I'll go get Mum to fix some sandwiches," murmured Ginny, looking for an escape, but Harry surprised them all by starting to climb out of bed.

Hermione immediately began to protest, claiming bossily that he needed to rest and heal, but she was quickly silenced by a glare from Harry, who was now searching for a robe to change into. "I don't think I can take any more nightmares," he muttered thickly in a tone of finality.

"You know, I wonder why Dumbledore won't just let you have a dreamless sleep potion," mused Ron aloud as they made their way to the stairs a few minutes later.

"No idea," said Ginny, frowning in thought.

Hermione looked thoughtful, but said nothing on the topic, choosing instead to greet Mrs. Weasley as they entered the kitchen.

Molly Weasley looked up from the large pot of soup she was stirring and dropped the ladle in shock. "Harry? What are you doing out of bed? You should be back upstairs," she exclaimed, rushing over to the group.

"Relax, Mum," said Ron with a small laugh, "He's just hungry."

"I reckon I've done enough sleeping for a lifetime," commented Harry dryly as he took a seat. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, he was still feeling extremely weak, but he would take any available escape from dreaming about death, his godfather, or the prophecy.

Without hesitation, Mrs. Weasley began doling out the soup and fixing sandwiches, looking over every few seconds to check on Harry.

Their meal was interrupted after a few silent minutes when several owls came soaring in through an open window. Hermione squealed out instantly, "Our O.W.L.s!" while Ron groaned halfheartedly.

Harry tore his envelope slowly, watching Hermione as she opened her letter as though it was a long-anticipated Christmas gift.

"Nine!" she shrieked, her face alight. "I got nine!"

Ron rolled his eyes as he tore his envelope unceremoniously. "Five," he muttered, "half of what you got."

Hermione tutted and countered, "Half of nine is four and a half, which is not the same as five."

Ginny snickered as Ron muttered something not-so-nice under his breath that made Harry laugh outright.

Mrs. Weasley ignored the friendly bickering and said, "Five? Well, that's good, dear."

"Good?" Ron replied incredulously. "She nearly doubled my score!"

"Look on the bright side," offered Harry with a grin that surprised everyone, "You'll only have to take half as many classes as Hermione."

"Oh, shut it, lets see what you've got then," prompted Ron with a laugh.

Harry quickly opened his scores; he was surprised to realize that he wasn't too worried about the outcome.

The results for Mr. Harry J. Potter are as follows:

Charms: Exceeds Expectations

Transfiguration: Exceeds Expectations

Herbology: Outstanding

Defense Against the Dark Arts: Outstanding

Divination: Poor

Potions: Acceptable

Care of Magical Creatures: Outstanding

Astronomy: Poor

History of Magic: Dreadful

Congratulations on your score of 6 O.W.L.s.

Griselda Marchbanks, Head Examiner

"I got six," he said, glancing over the sheet. "I failed Divination, Astronomy, and History of Magic."

Ron laughed. "If either of us had passed Divination, I would have been seriously worried."

"Yeah, shame they didn't just ask us to write out dream diaries for our exam," said Harry, remembering their old assignments. "We would have passed with flying colors. Hey, what did you get in Defense?"

"Outstanding," responded Hermione instantly, causing Ron to roll his eyes.

"Oh, like we couldn't see that coming."

"Well, what did you get then?" she responded without missing a beat.

"Outstanding," he said, mimicking Hermione with amazing accuracy, causing Ginny to snort into her juice. "All thanks to you, mate," he added, nodding his head at Harry, whose grin faltered slightly.

Hermione had now moved on to her book list and was commenting on which ones she'd already read. "Harry, the new Defense book is one that was in the Room of Requirement!" she exclaimed, thrilled at the thought of new books and classes. "Harry?" she repeated when he didn't respond.

His attention was instead focused on Ginny, whose jaw had dropped when she opened her Hogwarts letter. "Prefect?" he guessed, noting her shocked expression.

"Really Ginny? That's great!" cried Hermione as Ron whooped with pride. Ginny flushed but grinned, staring at the badge in a mix of disbelief and amazement. In seconds, Mrs. Weasley had enveloped her into a great hug and was babbling praises for her only daughter.

Remus Lupin walked into the kitchen, surveying the scene with a tired amusement. "Hogwarts letters?" he asked knowingly with a small smile. Harry's good mood faded slightly when he saw that Lupin's smile didn't reach his eyes, which looked exhausted and tired. In fact, Lupin looked more battered than ever; from the look on the old professor's face as he examined at Harry, he was thinking the same thing about his former pupil.

"Yeah, Ginny's been made a prefect," replied Ron with a grin. "She's gonna have a hard time filling my shoes, though," he added, placing a brotherly punch on her shoulder.

"Congratulations," Lupin said, fixing himself a cup of tea.

"Thanks," the redhead fifth year murmured, grinning proudly. "Hey Mum, when are we going to Diagon Alley?"

Mrs. Weasley glanced over at Lupin before answering. "Sometime next week, I think. Everyone's going together."

"Everyone?" asked Ron in confusion. "But isn't this everyone?"

"Well," began Lupin as he sat down across from Harry, "Miss Lovegood and Mr. Longbottom will be joining us, along with several Order members."

Harry nodded silently; the look on Hermione's face revealed that she understood as well.

"Have you all gotten enough to eat?" asked Mrs. Weasley, hurriedly changing the subject and looking at Lupin as though she had something to discuss. They all agreed that they were done, and, taking her subtle hint, headed back upstairs for a few rounds of wizards chess before bed, which Ron dominated, unsurprisingly.

Right before they all separated for bed, Harry saw Hermione do something she'd never done before in his prescence: she kissed Ron on the cheek. Even more surprising was that Ron didn't seem to mind; he simply blushed and wished her a good night. "How long has that been going on, then?"

Ron's face slid into a lopsided grin, and his face turned the famous Weasley red as he climbed into bed, staying determinedly silent. Harry laughed. "That long, huh?"

Ron muttered a few choice words at his best friend, who was now truly grinning. It made sense, them being together, he thought to himself as he turned off the light and climbed into bed.

For the first time all summer, Harry Potter had no bad dreams.