Remus was obviously furious with him, and stayed furious all night. Dumbledore had talked to Snape during dinner, while the other two sat in silence, opposite each other. They only words Remus uttered were "Good night." And he stalked away to the master bedroom.
Harry retired too to his bedroom (though he thought the effort for a good night's rest would be futile) ready to welcome the soft pillow and downy cushions of his mattress. His head was silent of thought or memory, making the motions of covering himself with the blankets nonchalantly, but his heart was burning with questions.
"I think that you'd sacrifice your own well-being for someone else's sake."
Wasn't that what he was supposed to do?
His flesh seemed to mold itself into the bed like clay slowly casting itself into a mask. His face felt calm and warm as his eyelashes fluttered.
And finally…
He was running as fast as time could let him
Not retreating out of fear
Not to get away
To find something… someone…
Deep stonewalls surrounded him. Hallways that never ended. Until a curtain…no a veil
Stood tall in his way
A cape of a giant madman,
He fought through the blackness
Through the layers and layers of darkness
He is on the other side.
A four-poster bed stands, large and red, where a woman rests her raven head
She is dress and black and looks so sad
Yet her eyes betray her, she is mad. Insane from the void where she is locked.
She announces his arrival "KaaAAK!"
She does not look like a raven, she is one too…
Don't ask questions "Who are you?" The tired boy expects no reply
But the bed is where his attention lie,
For he is so sleepy and the bed so soft,
"Shan't I sleep there, aloft?"
"KAaa" the little raven girl sighs, she moves from the bed aside
from little Harry's gentle quest,
just for some emotional rest. 'Tis little help she may give
But the name on the head post is "THE BOY WHO LIVED"
He lays there, as he thinks he ought, but sleep the boy's heart much fought,
He tossed and turned and turned and tossed.
Until the bloody raven coughed.
"I know ravens don't sing, but…" He was please to hear her voice ring. With the sadness and madness of centuries past. But the temporary sleep did not last.
"There's something under my back," he said, as he laid his tired head.
A wolf in human's clothes suggests, it is a pea! And it is not less…
It is a green and sickly gem that spurned hatred and malice at men.
A portrait of a Snape said, "It is the dark lord, you must swallow it to sleep…"
And by itself it goes down the boy's throat,
He chokes
Harry woke, coughing and sputtering. His throat was still burning. After retrieving his glasses and some water, he looked at the clock. 5:27, daylight was just peaking in between his blinds. Hastily, he reached for a pen and notebook, to write the dream down.
A/N: I'm so weird. - There is a purpose behind this chapter. But you won't get it yet.
