Rating: PG...no violence, no swearing, no slash of any kind well no romance of any kind either...
Chapter Two: I know...Harry pulled the blankets up over his face to block out the bright sun light. He couldn't stop replaying his dream in his head. Something about it wasn't right. He sat up and rubbed his eyes as Ron pelted him with Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans. "Come ON Harry! IT'S CHRISTMAS FOR CRIPES SAKES! GET OUT OF BED!" yelled Ron. The dormitory was home to only Harry and Ron as it usually was during the Christmas Holidays and Ron was making a huge mess as he tossed wrapping on the floor. The dormitory door flew open as Hermione came in carrying Crookshanks, who once again had a bit of tinsel tied around his neck. She tossed her presents on the foot of Seamus' bed and padded over to the boys. The motherly look that she had acquired at the beginning of the school year was on her face again. "Harry what's wrong?" she asked the second she saw his face. "What's wrong? WHAT'S WRONG?" hollered Ron, "What's wrong is he's still in bed with that load of presents sitting at the foot of his bed!" Harry rolled his eyes and put a smile on as he spied his pile of presents that seemed to get larger every year. Hermione still looked at him waiting for an explanation. "It's nothing 'Mione", he said, "I just had a strange dream is all. Nothing to worry about". She pursed her lips, not believing a word of it as he dug into his own presents.
The Christmas feast was delicious as it always was. This year there were enough students staying for the hols that they kept the house tables set out. Then again considering the dangers input by the return of Voldemort, parents thought that it was safer at Hogwarts under the supervision of Dumbledore, who at the moment was wearing purple polka dotted clown hat. After the last bits of turkey and steak and kidney pie had faded off the table, Harry and the others trudged up to the Gryffindor tower and stumbled into bed.
Harry tossed and turned for hours but could not fall asleep. His dream from the previous night was still on his mind. Throughout the day he hadn't forgotten about it and it was bothering him. Something about it just wasn't right. Glimpses of Voldemort's face flew through his mind as he crept out of bed and pulled out a quill and a bit of parchment. He licked the tip before pressing the quill to the parchment. Slowly he wrote:
Professor Dumbledore,
On Christmas Eve I had a curious dream that I would like to tell you about. Is there a time that I can speak with you before term starts?
Thank you, Harry Potter
He dug out his invisibility cloak and quietly slipped out of the dormitory. He silently pushed open the fat lady's portrait (Who's there?!) and made his way up to the owlery. It was important enough that he wanted the letter to get to Dumbledore straight away.
Quickly he found Hedwig, attached the letter, and sent it off. He watched as she flew away into the night and was no longer more that just a white speck on the black canvas of the sky. With a sigh he turned and trudged back to the tower.
Within minutes of being released, Hedwig found her way to Dumbledore's window. She tapped on is window and waited as the old man rose from his desk and pushed open the window to let her in. He silently read the note and pulled out his quill. Hesitating for just an instant, he wrote:
Harry,
Some say that dreams are just openings to the subconscious but with your history of strange dreams and my knowledge of their Seeing properties, I would like to hear about your dream. How does 8:00 o'clock tomorrow night sound for you? In my office of course. Password is Twinkie. Reply if this conflicts with anything, if not then I'll see you tomorrow.
Professor Albus Dumbledore
When the letter was complete he tied it to Hedwig's leg, which she dutifully held out before sending it to Harry.
The owl soared in through the open window with her burden tied neatly to her leg. The boy accepted it gratefully, stroking her downy feathers before sending her out into the night. Quickly he read the letter and put it on his nightstand before climbing back beneath the covers of his bed. Letting the enchanted blankets that Hermione had given him for Christmas envelope him in their warmth, he drifted off to sleep finally at ease since that morning.
Harry slept fitfully that night but that wasn't the case for another student in the castle. She paced the Slytherin common room floor well into the night, muttering and talking to herself. Occasionally she would throw her hands up in exasperation, growling about the old man' s incompetence and glared at the window, searching for a sign of the owl she had sent off into the night.
"Oh that old man's probably eating some muggle sweet or playing with his...with his bird! While my owl sits on the edge of his desk with her leg out!" she howled in frustration to the empty air. Unbeknownst to her another Slytherin sat on the steps to the dormitories watching and listening to her. He was under orders to watch her. Supposedly she had strange powers and the Dark Lord wanted her. Her powers would be very useful in his effort to win the war against the wizarding world. But the question of her loyalties still hung in the air. Her father, who was a death eater, told the Dark Lord that she was neutral but would be easily swayed. What her father hadn't said was that he couldn't control the side to which she would sway. Dumbledore could just as easily turn her against them.
There was a muffled groan behind him and a hoarse voice. "What are you doing here Zabini?"
"I should say the same to you, Malfoy"
Draco surprisingly was against the Dark Lord and his legions. It was a little known fact that only Dumbledore and Snape knew. That is until Lucius was arrested, tried and imprisoned in Azkaban. Before placed in that foul place he alerted Voldemort of the threat that Draco was. And directly after he disowned his son because Draco was the reason he was turned in.
At the end of his sixth year, Draco was cordially invited to become a junior death eater, in other words he was either to join or be eliminated. But after fourth year he had sworn that he would never take the dark mark. So he did the only thing he could do. He went to that muggle-lover Dumbledore and asked, no begged, for help. At that point only he, Dumbledore, and Snape knew that he opposed Voldemort and between the two adults he was put under their careful protection.
Everything was okay until he got an owl from his father. The letter told him the time and date of the initiation ceremony to become a junior death eater. It also said that this was his last chance to serve. Lucius said he would come to the castle to take him to the initiation, by force if need be. So before he could Draco sent a letter to the ministry telling them all about Lucius, and telling them where to find the evidence to convict him.
Lucius was taken two days later, tried and placed in Azkaban. The only way the Ministry could have known about anything was if they were told. By the only person outside of the circle of death eaters. His son. He spent four months in the prison before a group of death eaters broke him out. Now Draco was under almost constant supervision by the staff.
Both boys glared at each other almost daring the other to make a move. Suddenly both of their attention was drawn back into the common room as the girl stopped pacing and opened the window for her tawny owl, who gratefully accepted some water and tender strokes before flying back out into the night.
"Oh I see...watching the girl. Probably put up to it by daddy dearest weren't you?"
"Shut your face Malfoy. Before I break it".
"Oh you wouldn't want to do that now would you? Because it is I that holds more information about every single death eater in the circle...including your father. And if something happened to him...oh dear whatever would become of you?"
"I'd be just like you Malfoy. Except for the fact that I would have my dignity and I wouldn't be looked upon as a lowly garsnith"
Draco hissed at the word. It was a word from the circle that meant traitor. Traitor in a form that implied that he was even lower than a mudblood. Almost as low as a muggle.
"Don't give me reason to-"
"Who's there?!"
Draco's head snapped up as the girl's voice rang out and her footsteps grew near. Zabini made a mad dash back to the common rooms, knocking Draco down in the process. Pain shot up his leg as it twisted. Unable to move, he pulled out his wand, pointed it at himself and whispered, "Invisentaro". Instantly he disappeared. Well it turned out his father was good for something even if it was a simple spell, but he had taught it to him nonetheless.
The girl stuffed the letter in her robes before carefully making her way up the dormitory steps. She saw nothing suspicious and headed back down. Flopping down on the leather couch she pulled out the letter and carefully opened it and read Dumbledore's reply to her simple note:
I trust that you understand that this is a very sensitive subject so I would like to speak with you at 8:00 o'clock tomorrow night in my office. Password is Twinkie. Since you might be out after hours I have provided a hall pass for you that is valid only for tomorrow. Reply if this conflicts with anything, otherwise I will see you tomorrow.
Professor Albus Dumbledore
While she read, Draco slipped down the stairs and stood beside the fireplace. He heard her grumble something about full names and watched as she approached the fireplace. She tossed in the letter and headed for the girls dormitories. Quickly, before it would become illegible, Draco grabbed the letter and scanned it over. It was addressed to Dumbledore. He read it over and dropped it back in the fire and watched as the flames licked over the words that read:
Professor,
I know about the Board of Ateronis.
Dezyree SorenAuthor's Note: Hi. Yes, please review. I still don't like the length of this chapter but it will do. In case anyone is wondering the girl's name is pronounced Des-er-ee. Okay? Okay.
Disclaimer: This story contains characters, locations, and other random things created and/or owned by J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury Publishing, Scholastic, Inc., etc. Since no money is being made, no infringement is intended. Section 102(b) of the U.S. Copyright Act states that copyright protection does not extend to ideas, procedures, concepts, principles or discoveries, but the actual words used to express those things.