The next couple of days passed by rather quickly, considering Ron had not appeared at all to any of his classes - Harry already knew why, and honestly didn't put much worry into it; he was too focused on other things. So while Ron was ignoring everyone, Harry was focusing more and more of his free time on working out the meaning of his last prophecy told to him by Dumbledore. He could now understand why Ron was so frightened; he was also frightened for the same reason, yet also very different. He was scared because of his lack of knowledge on this subject, because no matter what he did - he always ended up where he started. He, like Ron, was scared about the fact that their friend, Hermione, might have something to do with this. Most of all, Harry was worried that he hadn't made the connection between these subjects - usually, by now, he would have. Then again, usually, he also would've had the help of Hermione.

There wasn't much to do without Ron Harry had to admit, so the days had passed by rather dully. The nights were just as bad - if not worse. His nights went by dreamless, so he could not and had not made any progress on understanding his dreams. Lately, Harry's life had been so frustrating that he was even slipping by in his studies, and he knew that if he wanted to be an Auror, that he would have to sharpen up, no matter what life was like now. He wished he could have some advice right now, but no one would understand him, no one.

Just as he was contemplating all of this, Harry thought of the most seemingly brilliant plan. He then ran up the stairs to the boys' dormitories and into his room. Frantically and desperately, he ran to the right side of his bed where most of his special possessions lay. Then, rummaging through his trunk - he came across it, the two-way mirror.

"James Potter!" he immediately shouted at the mirror, loud and hopeful. Disappointed, he then threw the mirror across the room and fell down on his knees, shaking and crying silently, furiously. Out of his desperation, he had forgotten that his father couldn't have possibly been carrying the two-way mirror when he was murdered. How could he have so easily made this same mistake twice? In fact, in that moment of desperation, he had completely forgotten that he was most likely holding the mirror that had belonged to his father. The words, 'You are more like you're father than you know,' now ringing in his head.

"How could I be so foolish," he thought aloud. Harry sat there, staring at the floor - wallowing in his sorrow - hoping that some sane idea would come to him during all of this. "If only..." he muttered weakly.

Only after hours of silent remorse, only after hours of ignoring Dean and Seamus' comments, and only after hours of shutting himself off from the outside world did he realize something he had been absentmindedly ignoring this whole time.

"Dumbledore..." he said aloud, gaining hope, "Dumbledore can help me!"

Happily, Harry ran down the hallways to visit Dumbledore's office for the second time this year. Adrenaline was now running madly through his veins, and Harry was determined to talk to Dumbledore.

"Sugar Quill!" he excitedly said when reaching the gargoyles. Steadily, the gargoyles had moved aside at his command, giving him enough space to enter the Headmaster's office.

"Dumbledore!" he said breathlessly, but still beaming.

"Hello, Harry!" Dumbledore replied, "What can I do for you today?" he said with his blue eyes sparkling.

Too overwhelmed by his own joy, what Harry had meant to say had only come out in bits. "Prophecy - Hermione - dreams - key..."

"Excuse me?" Dumbledore politely replied.

Still inhaling and exhaling deeply, Harry had said "Can you please explain that Prophesy to me a little bit further?" Harry paused briefly, but quickly continued, "I have a feeling that it has something to do with Hermione, a-and my dreams with the key."

Dumbledore responded with his eyes, which although were normally full of cheer and amusement, now contained a dull, dismal pigment of blue. "I'm very sorry, Harry, but I'm afraid you will have to figure that out on your own -" he paused, "It is your destiny, not mine."

Within a few moments, Harry's smile had disappeared from his face and in return, been replaced with an unsatisfactory smile. "Great!" he muttered, "Just great!"

Realizing this sudden silence that fell upon them, Harry had said his goodbyes and had started to leave Dumbledore's office. Two disappointments in one day, he didn't know how much more he could take.

Yet, right as Harry had started down the corridor, Dumbledore stopped him and merely said, "Remember Harry, it is ourselves that define the future, and you will only solve life's problems by looking deeply into yourself..."

Harry just quickly glanced at him and replied a quiet, "Yeah," before heading back to the Gryffindor Common Room, up to the boy's dormitories, and then finally, to fall asleep.

....

It was now a crisp, fresh Saturday morning, and Harry had just woken up. He noticed that the others around him had begun to stir in their beds, (whose hangings most forgot to shut,) also. Yawning and stretching, Harry got up and changed into a set of Muggle clothes. He then began to walk into the Gryffindor Common Room before remembering the stack of homework he had awaiting him. Groaning, Harry picked up the homework planner that Hermione had given him last year (he had forgotten to throw it out), flipped through the pages, and practically collapsed while looking at the amount of homework he had left for himself to do. Harry grabbed about 6 feet of parchment, or so it looked, two quills, and two inkpots, and proceeded to walk into the Common Room. He walked up to a nearby table and a comfy chair that seemed unoccupied, and plopped him and his things down. Gazing at the homework planner, Harry had begun to read off the assignments he had to do out loud.

"Charms: practice the Protean charm as we learned in class." He wished he had Hermione here to help him with that. "Transfiguration: None," which was then scratched out and then read, "Practice transfiguring your basket into a Bowtruckle." Harry laughed out loud, remembering that he was only one of a few students who still couldn't do this. "Defense Against the Dark Arts: Write 2 feet of parchment about spells to mislead your enemy in any way (ex. Actual confusion, appearance, etc.,) and their effects." Harry thought that would be simple enough with some research. Only because he had at least completed his other three subjects' homework, (Care of Magical Creatures, Astronomy, and Herbology,) he was at last up to the Potions assignment.

Potions read, "Write 4 feet of parchment about the ingredients and instructions required in making an Animagus potion and its effects." Harry hated Snape for assigning this homework, which only gave Snape more glee as he informed the class of the homework.

Now having gone through all of his homework assignments, Harry decided to work on the charms first and then work on the essays later. Harry had started with the Transfiguration homework first (he knew that he would be able to get that spell worked out the fastest of the two), and after 10 tries he had successfully done the charm. He then moved onto the rest of his homework, completing it the best he could. After all of this, it was 6 o'clock (about time for dinner), and Ron had still not shown up, so Harry had walked down to the Great Hall by himself, had dinner, and returned to the Common Room yet again by himself. In his solitude, Harry had once again found himself reencountering his daily life.

Hermione was still gone, Ron was ignoring him - and the rest of the world, he had just finished off his stack of homework, and he couldn't think of anything else to do. Harry had decided that since there was honestly nothing much to do, he might as well go to sleep. So, Harry climbed up the stairs to the boy's dormitories and into his bed. Wearily, Harry took in a last glance at his surroundings, thought one last thought, and absorbed this all into his mind, and fell back asleep.

Darkness was now filling his eyes; he was asleep. Shortly afterward, Harry began to drift into 'that dream' again. There he was, standing, staring at the key that had haunted him.

"Well this is new and different," he said in his dream, so obviously irritated and bored, "whatever shall I do?" he added rhetorically. He laughed at his own comment, mainly because he was so sick of being stuck in this dream, only to wake up empty-handed. He then continued to take a few paces towards the key, fully aware that there was now nothing stopping him. "Curious," he muttered slowly, although he had quickly fastened his pace, knowing that he would not have much longer before waking up - that is, with his recent luck. He was now not far from the key, in fact he getting much closer to it, dangerously close.

Not far away from the key, he paused, suddenly being very skeptical about it all. 'What if this is another one of Voldemort's traps?' he thought, frowning.

He looked at the key with a newly formed caution, but then attempted to squash his fears by saying, "No harm could come to me in a dream though, right?"

Hesitantly, Harry had continued on, still somewhat fearful. Still trying to avoid his own self-conscience, and his fear, he had thought of Hermione, his friend who had been missing unbeknownst to many at Hogwarts. Using his thoughts as a newfound source of power, he had gained the courage he normally had that was ebbing away from him in these dreams, and was determined to grasp the key - no matter what.

He had finally reached it now, and he knew that it was too late to turn back. He put his shaking arm out slowly as if the key was going to come up and attack him, and grasped the key slowly, placing each finger upon it one-by-one so that now all of the fingers on his right hand were holding the key. He had moved it from the spot, which it was originally glowing and rotating, and he pocketed it. Next thing he knew, the ground was shaking violently, and there was nothing he could do. He might die, he thought. He reached out and grabbed a loose brick in the wall - hoping it might save his life, and then....

BOOM.