Warning: This story contains ADULT THEMES! Definitely some smut, possibly
some slash (m/m stuff) If this offends you, then BY GOD don't read it!!!
Disclaimer: Anything good of this story belongs to J.K. Rowling.
Forewarning: I wrote this chapter while listening to Sting's "Ten Summoner's Tales" Mostly because I lust after Sting, and secondly the songs (so far) fit the mood I'm trying to portray. So, if you end up not liking this particular piece of prose, blame Sting. * evil grin *
~*~
Harry Potter's sixth year at Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was not starting out well.
The moving paintings weren't as amusing as they once had been; the Great Start of Term Feast didn't taste quite as delectable as years past; even his first glimpse of Hogwart's Quidditch field, which years before had sent his spirits soaring, failed to raise even an eyebrow.
In a word, Harry was bored.
As senseless as it seemed, considering his track record, Harry Potter no longer found Hogwarts to be at all interesting. No, wait, strike that. Harry Potter no longer found LIFE to be at all interesting.
Sure, there was the ever-present threat on his life from You-Know-Who, but no one had seen hide nor hair of Voldemort since his last failed attempt on Harry's life 2 years ago. Some of the Wizarding community believes he's disappeared for good, others believe he's biding his time.
"Whatever he's doing, I bloody well wish he'd get the hell on with it." Harry sighed, his breath fogging up his dormitory window. Lazily tracing the diamond panes of glass, he turned to see what time it was.
1:35
"Great." Harry turned back to his window, gazing onto the starlit fields below him. This had become a nightly habit. Sleep had always been a struggle, ever since he was a child. Knowing that the sooner he laid his head on his pillow to sleep, the sooner he'd have to face another day with the Dursleys. It was only when he came to Hogwarts that Harry ever had something good to wake up to.
Now, even the joy of simply being amongst friends had somehow left him.
1:36
A tired, throaty laugh escaped him, causing the window to once again fog up. Harry turned to the occupied bed next to him. Ron Weasley lay there, softly snoring, his fiercely red hair giving him away. Harry chuckled, envious of his friend. * It's not like Ron's got an extremely exciting life, yet he can sleep easily enough. *
As if on cue, Ron rolled over on his bed, his arm now hanging off the side. This caused Harry to laugh again, * So why am I having such a hard time? *
Harry heaved himself off the stone floor and made his way to his own bed, quietly taking back the covers. 'No use in being awake AND uncomfortable,' Harry thought to himself as he slid between the cool covers. 'Maybe if I pretend to sleep-" he closed his eyes, and tried to think of nothing. Nothing. Nothing.
Nothing
Blackness
"Mmmmmm, oh yeah."
Harry's eyes flashed open again, staring straight up at the top of his canopy bed, and then slowly turning towards the groaning.
One of Ron's less desirable traits, besides his obsession with Quidditch, was the fact that he tended to talk in his sleep.
"Right there, oh, yes-"
That's not quite accurate. Ron tended to give a play-by-play description of whatever raunchy dream he was having that particular night.
"YES."
Not that Harry minded. He found it amusing.
Harry turned onto his side, curiously watching his friend play out, what sounded like, a particularly NICE dream. Ron was on his back, one knee up, and his right arm lightly bouncing with every "yes." A devilish grin spread on his face, Ron's hips were bucking ever-so-slightly.
Mesmerized, Harry reached over and got his glasses. Sure, everyone's heard Ron dreaming, but it was a rare occasion to actually get to see him doing it.
"MMmmmmph-"
By the way Ron's lips suddenly pursed, Harry concluded that he must be kissing someone. Gods, he looked so cute that way! His nose all scrunched up, lips protruded, making soft little sucking noises. Harry could barely keep himself from laughing out loud, feeling pity for the poor girl he was kissing.
Then, like a bolt, an overwhelming feeling of curiosity took hold. 'I wonder-'
Harry slowly crept out of bed, and on all fours (as to not be seen), made his way over to Ron. Carefully, Harry put his mouth right next to Ron's ear. Barely breathing at this point, he whispered- "Ron."
"Mmmmmphh,"
"Ron."
"Wha-"
"Ron, who are you kissing?"
-Silence-
Not getting an answer, Harry moved in closer. Feeling his own breath, hot, bouncing back off Ron's cheek - he tried again.
"Ron."
"Mmmmm?"
"Who are you kissing Ron?" Just then did Harry notice how raspy his voice had become.
"Hr-"
Harry smiled. He knew it! Ron was dreaming about Hermione. It had become painfully obvious throughout the years, just how much she really meant to him. Harry had just sat down on the floor, when Ron spoke again.
"Hr- Harry"
Harry's eyes widened.
"Ron?"
-Silence-
"Ron, who were you kissing?"
Harry felt his pulse quickening. Had Ron just said what he thought he said?
"Mmmmmmm, Harry-" A wicked smile spread across Ron's face.
Oh Gods.
Harry quickly scooted back to his own bed, clawing up under the covers. And for the next hour all he could do was stare up at the top of his bed. His heart was pounding, pounding loud enough (he was sure) to wake all of Hogwarts. Unable to hear the rest of Ron's dream, Harry's mind was racing. What did this mean? Surely, Ron just said "Harry" because he heard his voice. Surely, that was all. Nothing else.
Convinced that was all it was, Harry turned over and tried to go to sleep.
Doubts have a certain way of creeping into your mind, regardless of how loud you scream at them to go away. No matter how rigidly he would deny it, Harry was intrigued.
Harry was more than intrigued, he was captivated.
He needed to know more.
Not wanting to risk waking Ron up with anymore whispering, Harry decided to find another way to get the truth. However, that would have to wait till tomorrow he thought as he yawned. And for the first time in a long time, Harry couldn't wait till morning.
~*~
Morning came faster than any morning before it. Harry opened his eyes to a brightly lit room, cheerfully colored in Gryffindor's maroon and gold. Immediately, his eyes darted to Ron's bed. Only a pile of sheets and blankets greeted him. 'Ron's already up- I must be late!' Springing out of bed, Harry grabbed his toothbrush and ran to the boys' lavatories. Muttering a quickshower spell between spits, Harry changed into his robes and ran down the steps and out of the Gryffindor common room.
'I've got a lot to do today,' he cheerfully thought to himself as he jogged down the corridor.
As he entered the Great Hall, Harry immediately spotted Ron at the Gryffindor table. Happily eating away at his breakfast, as usual. Hermione was sitting across from him, her nose in a book, as usual. Trying to be casual, Harry strode up and sat down next to his redheaded friend. Ron greeted him with his usual smile, mouth stuffed with scrambled eggs.
"Morfng!"
Only when he opened his mouth, did Harry realize that he had absolutely no idea what to say. Luckily, Hermione spoke for him.
"Honestly, Ron," peeping out from behind her book, "You've got the manners of a wild boar."
Swallowing hard, Ron just snickered. "You love it, you know it."
'He has a really nice smile,' Harry thought off handedly. Realizing what he had just thought, Harry started laughing nervously, then quickly turned to his breakfast. 'Just act normal.'
"So, mate, sleep well?"
Harry, not thinking it was possible to choke on a single bite of toast, started coughing so loudly that the entire school turned to look at the commotion.
"Watch it!" Ron pounded his back roughly.
"Harry, are you okay?" Hermione started to stand.
Waving his hand to say he was fine, Harry grabbed the nearest glass and downed it. Across the room, he heard the Slytherins laughing. One particular laugh louder than the rest. Draco Malfoy was laughing till he was red in the face, pointing at him. Harry managed a scowl through his chokes.
Regaining his composure, he swallowed hard and moved his plate away from him.
"I'm fine."
Hermione smiled and went back to her book. Chuckling, Ron poked him in the ribs. "That first bite's a doozy, you know."
"No kidding." Harry laughed nervously. He decided that it would be best to wait until after breakfast to bring up anything.
~*~
They had Potions first, to all of their disgust. There was no way that Harry was going to risk talking to Ron there. Professor Snape already had it in for him; the last thing he wanted was to draw attention to himself after the "incident" at breakfast. Next was Professor Flitwick and charms, but Hermione had managed to squeeze in between Ron and Harry. No chance there. Finally it was lunchtime.
"So, Ron." * don't think about his smile don't think about his smile *
"Yeah?" Ron's attentions were deeply absorbed in the Monthly Quidditch magazine he was reading.
Desperately hoping to find some way to bring the subject up, Harry decided to lie.
"I had this unbelievably crazy dream last night." * yeah, about you *
Ron, unphased, replied. "Yeah? Crazy?"
"Yeah. Crazy." * this isn't working! *
Ron nodded and went back to reading. Frustrated, Harry tried again.
"I'm really curious as to what it means." He wasn't lying this time.
Ron, still uninterested, started talking about Quidditch with Neville Longbottom.
Harry was about to give up when Hermione interrupted.
"Harry, if you're so interested, why don't you talk to Professor Trelawney? We have Divination next."
Of course! It all seemed so simple. If anyone knew anything about dreams, kooky old Professor Trelawney would. Harry's face lit up a bit.
"Thanks 'Mione."
~*~
As soon as they got to class, Harry's heart sank. There was Professor Trelawney, meditating above one of her many pillows, eyes rolled back into her head. There was no way in hell he was going to get any sound information from that woman. Disappointed, Harry sat down. Soon, the whole class had collected, and the lesson began.
"Today we will be tapping into our minds eye." Professor Trelawney cooed.
Hermione groaned, "We never do anything BUT tap into our minds' eye."
Ron snickered.
Pretending to not hear, Professor Trelawney continued. "Throughout the ages, man has continually searched for guidance. Often times, relying on his own subconscious to provide answers. Today class, we will learn to interpret dreams!"
Hermione, enthusiastically nudging Harry, nodded towards Professor Trelawney and whispered, "See, I told you."
"Does our Harry Potter have a dream he wishes interpreted?" Unbeknown to Harry, Professor Trelawney had seen Hermione.
Stammering, Harry sputtered, "No. No, not really, but thank-"
"Yes, you do. I saw in a vision that you would be helping us today, young Mr. Potter." Professor Trelawney had taken his hands and now was leading him to the front of the class. Harry's heart had stopped by this time, and a thin layer of sweat had formed at his brow. Placing him on one of her pillows, which then levitated, Professor Trelawney stood behind Harry and began rubbing his temples, softly humming all the while.
"Listen, Professor Trelawn-"
"Silence! I am seeing your dream."
The hairs on the back of Harry's neck suddenly stood on end. Could she really see what he was thinking? Surely not. When has she been right before? His pulse had started to calm down when she spoke.
"I see - you. You're - curious - about a friend."
Harry's eyes shot open, and instinctively looked at Ron, who was turning a light shade of pink. Did he know? HE couldn't know! How did SHE know?? She never knows anything!!
* oh no oh no oh no oh no not here, not here in front of everyone *
"This friend - is - male. He's hiding something."
* NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO *
Harry closed his eyes and concentrated. Trying his best to sway Professor Trelawney from seeing any more. A single bead of sweat ran down the side of his face.
"I see-"
Harry opened his eyes a crack. All he could see was Ron. Eyes wide, slightly leaning over his desk. Was that a look of curiosity on his face? Suddenly, Ron's eyes met his, and an electric shock bolted up his spine.
"Nothing! I see nothing. I've lost it."
Harry let out a sigh of relief as his pillow floated back to the floor.
"I've strained what little energy I had, I can carry on no longer. Class dismissed!"
The class erupted into a joyful buzzing as Harry stood up. His entire back was covered in sweat. * thank the Gods for these robes * he thought. Ron had already gotten out of class, but Hermione was still waiting for him. Frowning, Harry went to join her, but had a second thought. * maybe *
"I'll be right there 'Mione."
Harry made his way back to Professor Trelawney, who by this time was slumped over a pile of rather large pillows.
"Excuse me, Professor Trelawney?"
Exasperated, she turned to him. "Yes, Mr. Potter?"
"I was wondering if there would be any way, to, um, maybe do some research - about dreams?"
Harry started fidgeting. What good would research do him? He's not the one who had the dream anyway!
"Research?"
"Yes, I guess." * stop obsessing over this! *
She turned to a large chest behind her, opened it, and began looking for something.
Silently, Harry was screaming at himself to leave. This is stupid. It's only Ron. Why am I going to all these lengths to find out something I don't really want to know! Harry would've gone on cursing himself forever, had Professor Trelawney not held up an ornate charm in front of his face.
"Here, Mr. Potter."
Before him dangled an amulet like none he had ever seen before. (Not that he had seen that many amulets, but none as beautiful as this.) Gold and silver weaved together to form an orb-like basket; within it floated a sapphire-like blue marble.
"This is Aromankin's Amulet. Wear it before you go to sleep, and think of whom or what it is that troubles you. Through its power, you will be able to reconcile your dreams."
Not understanding a word of what she had said, Harry took the amulet. It was so light in his hand; he almost couldn't feel it at all. Looking up to thank her, Harry found that he had waited too long. Professor Trelawney was already asleep again.
~*~
Harry was fidgeting. Pacing around his room at such an early hour - he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and laughed. 'Funny,' he thought to himself. 'Just yesterday I was pacing because I couldn't sleep. Now, I can't wait to get tired.' He looked at the clock.
7:48
'Damn, too early.'
If Harry tried to go to sleep now, everyone would know that something was up. Harry was on his way to the common room when Ron entered. His face was pale, even paler than usual, and his eyes looked as if they were about to bug out of his head.
"Ron? What's the matter?"
Ron couldn't make eye contact with Harry; his gaze was to the floor. "Harry, about your dream-"
Heart racing, Harry answered as calmly as he could. "Yeah?"
"What did you dream about?" Ron's voice had suddenly gone to a hush; Harry could barely hear him.
What to do? Now he had the amulet, so there would be no real use in bringing it up again, but the curiosity of the situation was getting the better hold of him. Harry was mulling over what to say when his mouth answered for him.
"You."
If anyone had entered the room at that precise moment, it would've been quite a picture. There stood two of the Gryffindor golden boys, slack jawed and staring at each other.
"You had a dream about me?" Ron was shaking like a leaf! Never before had Harry seen him this nervous. An overwhelming urge to go him took hold of Harry, and he reached his arm out.
"Ron-"
But Ron was already out the door. He could hear the panicking footsteps rush down the stairs and out.
"Oh no-" Harry returned to pacing once again, cursing at himself all the while. Why did you say that Harry? What did you expect him to do, run into your arms?? Do I want him to run into my arms?
"Arrrgh." Harry sat on his bed with a frustrated huff. Reaching into his pocket, he retrieved the amulet - dangling it in front of his face.
"No harm in trying it, I 'spose." Harry slid the necklace over his head, and immediately felt heavy. His eyes, his body, everything was heavy. Lying down on the bed, still in his robes, Harry thought of Ron. Ron and his fiercely red hair and freckled skin.
Suddenly, the room was swirling, and Harry felt lighter. He was off the bed, the room spinning faster, faster, till there was nothing there.
Harry found himself surrounded by darkness.
"Where am I?"
Disclaimer: Anything good of this story belongs to J.K. Rowling.
Forewarning: I wrote this chapter while listening to Sting's "Ten Summoner's Tales" Mostly because I lust after Sting, and secondly the songs (so far) fit the mood I'm trying to portray. So, if you end up not liking this particular piece of prose, blame Sting. * evil grin *
~*~
Harry Potter's sixth year at Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was not starting out well.
The moving paintings weren't as amusing as they once had been; the Great Start of Term Feast didn't taste quite as delectable as years past; even his first glimpse of Hogwart's Quidditch field, which years before had sent his spirits soaring, failed to raise even an eyebrow.
In a word, Harry was bored.
As senseless as it seemed, considering his track record, Harry Potter no longer found Hogwarts to be at all interesting. No, wait, strike that. Harry Potter no longer found LIFE to be at all interesting.
Sure, there was the ever-present threat on his life from You-Know-Who, but no one had seen hide nor hair of Voldemort since his last failed attempt on Harry's life 2 years ago. Some of the Wizarding community believes he's disappeared for good, others believe he's biding his time.
"Whatever he's doing, I bloody well wish he'd get the hell on with it." Harry sighed, his breath fogging up his dormitory window. Lazily tracing the diamond panes of glass, he turned to see what time it was.
1:35
"Great." Harry turned back to his window, gazing onto the starlit fields below him. This had become a nightly habit. Sleep had always been a struggle, ever since he was a child. Knowing that the sooner he laid his head on his pillow to sleep, the sooner he'd have to face another day with the Dursleys. It was only when he came to Hogwarts that Harry ever had something good to wake up to.
Now, even the joy of simply being amongst friends had somehow left him.
1:36
A tired, throaty laugh escaped him, causing the window to once again fog up. Harry turned to the occupied bed next to him. Ron Weasley lay there, softly snoring, his fiercely red hair giving him away. Harry chuckled, envious of his friend. * It's not like Ron's got an extremely exciting life, yet he can sleep easily enough. *
As if on cue, Ron rolled over on his bed, his arm now hanging off the side. This caused Harry to laugh again, * So why am I having such a hard time? *
Harry heaved himself off the stone floor and made his way to his own bed, quietly taking back the covers. 'No use in being awake AND uncomfortable,' Harry thought to himself as he slid between the cool covers. 'Maybe if I pretend to sleep-" he closed his eyes, and tried to think of nothing. Nothing. Nothing.
Nothing
Blackness
"Mmmmmm, oh yeah."
Harry's eyes flashed open again, staring straight up at the top of his canopy bed, and then slowly turning towards the groaning.
One of Ron's less desirable traits, besides his obsession with Quidditch, was the fact that he tended to talk in his sleep.
"Right there, oh, yes-"
That's not quite accurate. Ron tended to give a play-by-play description of whatever raunchy dream he was having that particular night.
"YES."
Not that Harry minded. He found it amusing.
Harry turned onto his side, curiously watching his friend play out, what sounded like, a particularly NICE dream. Ron was on his back, one knee up, and his right arm lightly bouncing with every "yes." A devilish grin spread on his face, Ron's hips were bucking ever-so-slightly.
Mesmerized, Harry reached over and got his glasses. Sure, everyone's heard Ron dreaming, but it was a rare occasion to actually get to see him doing it.
"MMmmmmph-"
By the way Ron's lips suddenly pursed, Harry concluded that he must be kissing someone. Gods, he looked so cute that way! His nose all scrunched up, lips protruded, making soft little sucking noises. Harry could barely keep himself from laughing out loud, feeling pity for the poor girl he was kissing.
Then, like a bolt, an overwhelming feeling of curiosity took hold. 'I wonder-'
Harry slowly crept out of bed, and on all fours (as to not be seen), made his way over to Ron. Carefully, Harry put his mouth right next to Ron's ear. Barely breathing at this point, he whispered- "Ron."
"Mmmmmphh,"
"Ron."
"Wha-"
"Ron, who are you kissing?"
-Silence-
Not getting an answer, Harry moved in closer. Feeling his own breath, hot, bouncing back off Ron's cheek - he tried again.
"Ron."
"Mmmmm?"
"Who are you kissing Ron?" Just then did Harry notice how raspy his voice had become.
"Hr-"
Harry smiled. He knew it! Ron was dreaming about Hermione. It had become painfully obvious throughout the years, just how much she really meant to him. Harry had just sat down on the floor, when Ron spoke again.
"Hr- Harry"
Harry's eyes widened.
"Ron?"
-Silence-
"Ron, who were you kissing?"
Harry felt his pulse quickening. Had Ron just said what he thought he said?
"Mmmmmmm, Harry-" A wicked smile spread across Ron's face.
Oh Gods.
Harry quickly scooted back to his own bed, clawing up under the covers. And for the next hour all he could do was stare up at the top of his bed. His heart was pounding, pounding loud enough (he was sure) to wake all of Hogwarts. Unable to hear the rest of Ron's dream, Harry's mind was racing. What did this mean? Surely, Ron just said "Harry" because he heard his voice. Surely, that was all. Nothing else.
Convinced that was all it was, Harry turned over and tried to go to sleep.
Doubts have a certain way of creeping into your mind, regardless of how loud you scream at them to go away. No matter how rigidly he would deny it, Harry was intrigued.
Harry was more than intrigued, he was captivated.
He needed to know more.
Not wanting to risk waking Ron up with anymore whispering, Harry decided to find another way to get the truth. However, that would have to wait till tomorrow he thought as he yawned. And for the first time in a long time, Harry couldn't wait till morning.
~*~
Morning came faster than any morning before it. Harry opened his eyes to a brightly lit room, cheerfully colored in Gryffindor's maroon and gold. Immediately, his eyes darted to Ron's bed. Only a pile of sheets and blankets greeted him. 'Ron's already up- I must be late!' Springing out of bed, Harry grabbed his toothbrush and ran to the boys' lavatories. Muttering a quickshower spell between spits, Harry changed into his robes and ran down the steps and out of the Gryffindor common room.
'I've got a lot to do today,' he cheerfully thought to himself as he jogged down the corridor.
As he entered the Great Hall, Harry immediately spotted Ron at the Gryffindor table. Happily eating away at his breakfast, as usual. Hermione was sitting across from him, her nose in a book, as usual. Trying to be casual, Harry strode up and sat down next to his redheaded friend. Ron greeted him with his usual smile, mouth stuffed with scrambled eggs.
"Morfng!"
Only when he opened his mouth, did Harry realize that he had absolutely no idea what to say. Luckily, Hermione spoke for him.
"Honestly, Ron," peeping out from behind her book, "You've got the manners of a wild boar."
Swallowing hard, Ron just snickered. "You love it, you know it."
'He has a really nice smile,' Harry thought off handedly. Realizing what he had just thought, Harry started laughing nervously, then quickly turned to his breakfast. 'Just act normal.'
"So, mate, sleep well?"
Harry, not thinking it was possible to choke on a single bite of toast, started coughing so loudly that the entire school turned to look at the commotion.
"Watch it!" Ron pounded his back roughly.
"Harry, are you okay?" Hermione started to stand.
Waving his hand to say he was fine, Harry grabbed the nearest glass and downed it. Across the room, he heard the Slytherins laughing. One particular laugh louder than the rest. Draco Malfoy was laughing till he was red in the face, pointing at him. Harry managed a scowl through his chokes.
Regaining his composure, he swallowed hard and moved his plate away from him.
"I'm fine."
Hermione smiled and went back to her book. Chuckling, Ron poked him in the ribs. "That first bite's a doozy, you know."
"No kidding." Harry laughed nervously. He decided that it would be best to wait until after breakfast to bring up anything.
~*~
They had Potions first, to all of their disgust. There was no way that Harry was going to risk talking to Ron there. Professor Snape already had it in for him; the last thing he wanted was to draw attention to himself after the "incident" at breakfast. Next was Professor Flitwick and charms, but Hermione had managed to squeeze in between Ron and Harry. No chance there. Finally it was lunchtime.
"So, Ron." * don't think about his smile don't think about his smile *
"Yeah?" Ron's attentions were deeply absorbed in the Monthly Quidditch magazine he was reading.
Desperately hoping to find some way to bring the subject up, Harry decided to lie.
"I had this unbelievably crazy dream last night." * yeah, about you *
Ron, unphased, replied. "Yeah? Crazy?"
"Yeah. Crazy." * this isn't working! *
Ron nodded and went back to reading. Frustrated, Harry tried again.
"I'm really curious as to what it means." He wasn't lying this time.
Ron, still uninterested, started talking about Quidditch with Neville Longbottom.
Harry was about to give up when Hermione interrupted.
"Harry, if you're so interested, why don't you talk to Professor Trelawney? We have Divination next."
Of course! It all seemed so simple. If anyone knew anything about dreams, kooky old Professor Trelawney would. Harry's face lit up a bit.
"Thanks 'Mione."
~*~
As soon as they got to class, Harry's heart sank. There was Professor Trelawney, meditating above one of her many pillows, eyes rolled back into her head. There was no way in hell he was going to get any sound information from that woman. Disappointed, Harry sat down. Soon, the whole class had collected, and the lesson began.
"Today we will be tapping into our minds eye." Professor Trelawney cooed.
Hermione groaned, "We never do anything BUT tap into our minds' eye."
Ron snickered.
Pretending to not hear, Professor Trelawney continued. "Throughout the ages, man has continually searched for guidance. Often times, relying on his own subconscious to provide answers. Today class, we will learn to interpret dreams!"
Hermione, enthusiastically nudging Harry, nodded towards Professor Trelawney and whispered, "See, I told you."
"Does our Harry Potter have a dream he wishes interpreted?" Unbeknown to Harry, Professor Trelawney had seen Hermione.
Stammering, Harry sputtered, "No. No, not really, but thank-"
"Yes, you do. I saw in a vision that you would be helping us today, young Mr. Potter." Professor Trelawney had taken his hands and now was leading him to the front of the class. Harry's heart had stopped by this time, and a thin layer of sweat had formed at his brow. Placing him on one of her pillows, which then levitated, Professor Trelawney stood behind Harry and began rubbing his temples, softly humming all the while.
"Listen, Professor Trelawn-"
"Silence! I am seeing your dream."
The hairs on the back of Harry's neck suddenly stood on end. Could she really see what he was thinking? Surely not. When has she been right before? His pulse had started to calm down when she spoke.
"I see - you. You're - curious - about a friend."
Harry's eyes shot open, and instinctively looked at Ron, who was turning a light shade of pink. Did he know? HE couldn't know! How did SHE know?? She never knows anything!!
* oh no oh no oh no oh no not here, not here in front of everyone *
"This friend - is - male. He's hiding something."
* NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO *
Harry closed his eyes and concentrated. Trying his best to sway Professor Trelawney from seeing any more. A single bead of sweat ran down the side of his face.
"I see-"
Harry opened his eyes a crack. All he could see was Ron. Eyes wide, slightly leaning over his desk. Was that a look of curiosity on his face? Suddenly, Ron's eyes met his, and an electric shock bolted up his spine.
"Nothing! I see nothing. I've lost it."
Harry let out a sigh of relief as his pillow floated back to the floor.
"I've strained what little energy I had, I can carry on no longer. Class dismissed!"
The class erupted into a joyful buzzing as Harry stood up. His entire back was covered in sweat. * thank the Gods for these robes * he thought. Ron had already gotten out of class, but Hermione was still waiting for him. Frowning, Harry went to join her, but had a second thought. * maybe *
"I'll be right there 'Mione."
Harry made his way back to Professor Trelawney, who by this time was slumped over a pile of rather large pillows.
"Excuse me, Professor Trelawney?"
Exasperated, she turned to him. "Yes, Mr. Potter?"
"I was wondering if there would be any way, to, um, maybe do some research - about dreams?"
Harry started fidgeting. What good would research do him? He's not the one who had the dream anyway!
"Research?"
"Yes, I guess." * stop obsessing over this! *
She turned to a large chest behind her, opened it, and began looking for something.
Silently, Harry was screaming at himself to leave. This is stupid. It's only Ron. Why am I going to all these lengths to find out something I don't really want to know! Harry would've gone on cursing himself forever, had Professor Trelawney not held up an ornate charm in front of his face.
"Here, Mr. Potter."
Before him dangled an amulet like none he had ever seen before. (Not that he had seen that many amulets, but none as beautiful as this.) Gold and silver weaved together to form an orb-like basket; within it floated a sapphire-like blue marble.
"This is Aromankin's Amulet. Wear it before you go to sleep, and think of whom or what it is that troubles you. Through its power, you will be able to reconcile your dreams."
Not understanding a word of what she had said, Harry took the amulet. It was so light in his hand; he almost couldn't feel it at all. Looking up to thank her, Harry found that he had waited too long. Professor Trelawney was already asleep again.
~*~
Harry was fidgeting. Pacing around his room at such an early hour - he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and laughed. 'Funny,' he thought to himself. 'Just yesterday I was pacing because I couldn't sleep. Now, I can't wait to get tired.' He looked at the clock.
7:48
'Damn, too early.'
If Harry tried to go to sleep now, everyone would know that something was up. Harry was on his way to the common room when Ron entered. His face was pale, even paler than usual, and his eyes looked as if they were about to bug out of his head.
"Ron? What's the matter?"
Ron couldn't make eye contact with Harry; his gaze was to the floor. "Harry, about your dream-"
Heart racing, Harry answered as calmly as he could. "Yeah?"
"What did you dream about?" Ron's voice had suddenly gone to a hush; Harry could barely hear him.
What to do? Now he had the amulet, so there would be no real use in bringing it up again, but the curiosity of the situation was getting the better hold of him. Harry was mulling over what to say when his mouth answered for him.
"You."
If anyone had entered the room at that precise moment, it would've been quite a picture. There stood two of the Gryffindor golden boys, slack jawed and staring at each other.
"You had a dream about me?" Ron was shaking like a leaf! Never before had Harry seen him this nervous. An overwhelming urge to go him took hold of Harry, and he reached his arm out.
"Ron-"
But Ron was already out the door. He could hear the panicking footsteps rush down the stairs and out.
"Oh no-" Harry returned to pacing once again, cursing at himself all the while. Why did you say that Harry? What did you expect him to do, run into your arms?? Do I want him to run into my arms?
"Arrrgh." Harry sat on his bed with a frustrated huff. Reaching into his pocket, he retrieved the amulet - dangling it in front of his face.
"No harm in trying it, I 'spose." Harry slid the necklace over his head, and immediately felt heavy. His eyes, his body, everything was heavy. Lying down on the bed, still in his robes, Harry thought of Ron. Ron and his fiercely red hair and freckled skin.
Suddenly, the room was swirling, and Harry felt lighter. He was off the bed, the room spinning faster, faster, till there was nothing there.
Harry found himself surrounded by darkness.
"Where am I?"