CHAPTER TWO: A Waking Nightmare
"Boy! I won't wait for you any longer!"
Harry heard Uncle Vernon's yell, but didn't bother to process the words. Instead, he took one more quick look around his sparsely decorated bedroom, hoping he had remembered to pack his trunk with everything he needed for school. He supposed he could cast a summoning spell once he got to Hogwarts if he realized he'd left something behind, but Harry had an idea the Dursleys wouldn't hold well with items flying of their own accord out of Harry's empty bedroom.
Harry carried his trunk down the stairs, depositing it at Uncle Vernon's feet, then turned to again climb up to his bedroom. "Where do you think you're going now?" Uncle Vernon demanded.
"I've got to get Hedwig! Unless you'd rather I left her here – "
"Get that damned owl! And make sure you throw a sheet over her cage – I won't have the neighbors talking!"
Harry stopped at the linen closet, removing one of the second-hand sheets that Aunt Petunia demanded he use for his bed. Handed down from Dudley, Harry's bedsheets were usually ripped and stained with anything from chocolate to gravy. When Hedwig saw Harry approaching her cage with the sheet, she began to flap her wings and hoot indignantly. "I know, I'm sorry, Hedwig! It's only for the ride to London." Harry grasped Hedwig's sheet-covered cage awkwardly, then proceeded down the stairs a final time.
Uncle Vernon had dragged Harry's trunk out to the car, and was now back inside, bidding Aunt Petunia good-bye. "Where is Dudley off to?" Uncle Vernon asked. Aunt Petunia smiled. "Oh, his friends came calling. Our Dudders is quite the popular one!" Uncle Vernon grunted with satisfaction, but Harry had thought he heard an uncomfortable tone in his aunt's voice. He looked closer at her now, and when his eyes connected with hers, she looked away quickly, again smiling earnestly at her husband. It occurred to Harry that maybe Aunt Petunia knew a little bit more about Dudley's "recreations" than Dudley expected. Harry himself had found out last summer (along with Dudley and Uncle Vernon) that Aunt Petunia knew a little bit more about the wizarding world than any of them had expected. It made Harry wonder how much more knowledge his aunt kept to herself.
"Well, I'll be back before dinner," Uncle Vernon said. He kissed his wife on the cheek. "Remember to plan for only three!" Whereas Aunt Petunia's voice had sounded forced, Uncle Vernon's sounded positively giddy. He turned to Harry. "Let's go, boy."
Although it was only Uncle Vernon and Harry, Harry chose to sit in the back of the car. He watched the traffic and surroundings quietly, occasionally lifting the sheet off of Hedwig's cage to give her a reassuring, apologetic look. Uncle Vernon listened to the business report on the radio, and acted very much as if Harry wasn't even in the car. It was looking to be a very long car ride. To make the time pass faster, Harry leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He thought about staying at the Leaky Cauldron with Ron and Hermione, catching up with his friends as they sat around eating anything and everything that old Tom would serve them. He thought about walking through Diagon Alley with a pocketful of spending cash, not having to hide the fact that he was a wizard. He thought about the upcoming school term at Hogwarts and how he would be free (at least for a time) from the Dursleys.
Harry wasn't sure when he drifted off to sleep, or even that he had really fallen fully asleep. One moment he was aware of his head resting against the warm pane of glass that was the back seat window, and the sound of traffic just outside the car door. The next moment he was standing in the Department of Mysteries at the Ministry of Magic. In front of him was an archway made of what appeared to be ancient stone. Hanging from the archway was an aged black veil that moved softly as if a gentle breeze were blowing. Harry stared at the veil without moving, barely able to breathe. He had seen this veil many times in his dreams over the summer, but something was different this time. Even as he stood on the rock dais, he could still hear the droning of Uncle Vernon's car radio. He could still feel the heat of the sun upon his face, even though the room in which the veil stood was bleak and dark.
And the voices were different. Always in Harry's dreams he could hear Sirius behind the veil. Sirius, calling him softly, seeming to encourage Harry to walk through the archway to join his godfather. Harry could never make out the words in his dreams, but the cheerful tone in Sirius's voice made Harry feel an inner tug, a powerful desire to walk forward that seemed impossible to ignore. But this time, the voice Harry heard came from another source, and while it was familiar, it was not Sirius. This oily, drawling voice came from behind Harry, and it was accompanied by a hand on Harry's shoulder. "What are you waiting for, Potter?"
Harry stiffened as Snape's grip on his shoulder tightened. A horn beeped somewhere in the distance, and Uncle Vernon said a rude word under his breath.
"He can see you, "Snape continued. "He knows your actions, your thoughts and fears. What are you going to do about it?"
Harry fought to clear his mind, to separate what he knew was real from what felt like a dream. The two worlds continued to blend together, as he could feel Snape's breath on his neck as real as he could feel the car seat he was sitting upon. Harry tried to concentrate on the feel of the car seat, refusing to look behind him for fear that he would see Snape instead of a rear window.
"I asked you what you are going to do!" Snape's words were harsh and impatient, and frustrated anger prevented Harry from trying to perceive his surroundings. He stared at the mysterious veil before him. "I – I want to be with Sirius," he stammered.
Snape inhaled sharply. "That is what he wants, as well. Are you going to give in so easily? I thought the 'famous' Harry Potter was so strong. You continue to let him control you! The wizarding world has foolishly put their faith in an reckless, emotional boy."
Harry felt his breath quicken and his face grow heated. He wanted desperately to prove Snape wrong, but the potions professor's words fanned his temper like a flame. Snape made a sound that was half chuckle, half scoff. "Well, don't keep him waiting, Potter. Can't you hear him calling?"
In that instant, all noise faded away. There was no traffic, no radio, and no sound of Hedwig rustling restlessly in her cage. Harry couldn't even hear his own breathing. All he was aware of was the dark curtain in before him, the only sound he could hear was the minuscule whispers of the rippling fabric. And then, a voice. A soft voice that was at once alarming and enticing, foreboding and promising. Snape was right. The voice was calling him. Harry felt his body leaning forward, almost of its own accord. There was nothing else, no one else, no thought in Harry's mind other than that voice. He had to follow it, he had to find it. His right foot stepped forward, lifting from the stone base of the archway and –
Several things then happened. The grip that Snape had on Harry's shoulder suddenly became painfully strong, and Harry felt himself being pulled back so roughly that he slammed against the back of the car seat. At the same time, an enraged howl filled Harry's head, rising from a low roar to an ear-piercing scream. The otherworldly sound of the scream was mingled with the screech of tires, and as Harry opened his eyes, he saw that Uncle Vernon had pulled the car over to the side of the street. Once again, it was just Harry, Hedwig, and Uncle Vernon in the car. The Department of Mysteries and Snape had disappeared.
Uncle Vernon turned around in his seat, and his eyes narrowed suspiciously as he looked at Harry. "What are you doing?" he demanded.
Harry realized he had his hands tightly clamped over his ears. The sound of the scream was still fresh in his memory; in fact, it seemed he could still hear a slowly fading echo. "Didn't you hear..?" Harry trailed off as he lowered his hands, not daring to finish the sentence. It did not seem like a good idea to describe to his uncle what he had just experienced. Instead, he looked out at the surroundings, and saw that Uncle Vernon had stopped the car about two blocks down from the Leaky Cauldron.
"What are you waiting for?"
Harry jerked his head back around to look at Uncle Vernon. "What did you say?"
"I said, what are you waiting for! I haven't all day. Get your bird and your things. This is as far as I am going to take you into that...neighborhood." Uncle Vernon looked around anxiously, spying an older man with a walking cane. Uncle Vernon gave the man a wary look, obviously mistrusting the cane, and locked his door.
Harry quickly opened the back door and scrambled out of the car, bumping Hedwig's cage against the door frame in the process. He set down the cage as Hedwig hooted up at him angrily, then moved to the rear of the car to lift out his trunk. Harry's whole body was inexplicably aching, and as he lowered his trunk onto the sidewalk, he narrowly missed dropping it onto his foot. Harry heard his uncle snicker. "Right, then." Uncle Vernon looked very jolly as he turned back around in his car seat and pulled away from the curb, leaving Harry standing on the side of the street without so much as a good-bye.
Harry watched his uncle's car disappear back into traffic. As soon as he was sure Uncle Vernon was well out of sight, Harry dropped down onto his trunk and let out a shaky sigh. He was shuddering, and felt somewhat weak. His head throbbed. The echo of the scream had finally ceased, but the frightened memory of it was another matter. Harry lifted a shaking hand to push his sweaty bangs away from his glasses. Part of his mind was trying to understand the "dream" he had just had, while another part wanted to ignore the whole episode altogether. At least until he had gotten to the Leaky Cauldron. Right now, sitting on the side of the London streets with a sheet- covered cage and a large moving trunk, he was already attracting odd looks. Harry forced himself to his feet, and pulling the sheet off of Hedwig's cage, shoved it into his trunk. Before closing the lid, Harry retrieved his wand. He quickly stuck the wand in the back pocket of his jeans, at the same time pulling out his shirt and letting his shirttail hang over his waist. Then grabbing a handle of his trunk in one hand and Hedwig's cage in the other, Harry walked the two blocks to the Leaky Cauldron.
"Boy! I won't wait for you any longer!"
Harry heard Uncle Vernon's yell, but didn't bother to process the words. Instead, he took one more quick look around his sparsely decorated bedroom, hoping he had remembered to pack his trunk with everything he needed for school. He supposed he could cast a summoning spell once he got to Hogwarts if he realized he'd left something behind, but Harry had an idea the Dursleys wouldn't hold well with items flying of their own accord out of Harry's empty bedroom.
Harry carried his trunk down the stairs, depositing it at Uncle Vernon's feet, then turned to again climb up to his bedroom. "Where do you think you're going now?" Uncle Vernon demanded.
"I've got to get Hedwig! Unless you'd rather I left her here – "
"Get that damned owl! And make sure you throw a sheet over her cage – I won't have the neighbors talking!"
Harry stopped at the linen closet, removing one of the second-hand sheets that Aunt Petunia demanded he use for his bed. Handed down from Dudley, Harry's bedsheets were usually ripped and stained with anything from chocolate to gravy. When Hedwig saw Harry approaching her cage with the sheet, she began to flap her wings and hoot indignantly. "I know, I'm sorry, Hedwig! It's only for the ride to London." Harry grasped Hedwig's sheet-covered cage awkwardly, then proceeded down the stairs a final time.
Uncle Vernon had dragged Harry's trunk out to the car, and was now back inside, bidding Aunt Petunia good-bye. "Where is Dudley off to?" Uncle Vernon asked. Aunt Petunia smiled. "Oh, his friends came calling. Our Dudders is quite the popular one!" Uncle Vernon grunted with satisfaction, but Harry had thought he heard an uncomfortable tone in his aunt's voice. He looked closer at her now, and when his eyes connected with hers, she looked away quickly, again smiling earnestly at her husband. It occurred to Harry that maybe Aunt Petunia knew a little bit more about Dudley's "recreations" than Dudley expected. Harry himself had found out last summer (along with Dudley and Uncle Vernon) that Aunt Petunia knew a little bit more about the wizarding world than any of them had expected. It made Harry wonder how much more knowledge his aunt kept to herself.
"Well, I'll be back before dinner," Uncle Vernon said. He kissed his wife on the cheek. "Remember to plan for only three!" Whereas Aunt Petunia's voice had sounded forced, Uncle Vernon's sounded positively giddy. He turned to Harry. "Let's go, boy."
Although it was only Uncle Vernon and Harry, Harry chose to sit in the back of the car. He watched the traffic and surroundings quietly, occasionally lifting the sheet off of Hedwig's cage to give her a reassuring, apologetic look. Uncle Vernon listened to the business report on the radio, and acted very much as if Harry wasn't even in the car. It was looking to be a very long car ride. To make the time pass faster, Harry leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He thought about staying at the Leaky Cauldron with Ron and Hermione, catching up with his friends as they sat around eating anything and everything that old Tom would serve them. He thought about walking through Diagon Alley with a pocketful of spending cash, not having to hide the fact that he was a wizard. He thought about the upcoming school term at Hogwarts and how he would be free (at least for a time) from the Dursleys.
Harry wasn't sure when he drifted off to sleep, or even that he had really fallen fully asleep. One moment he was aware of his head resting against the warm pane of glass that was the back seat window, and the sound of traffic just outside the car door. The next moment he was standing in the Department of Mysteries at the Ministry of Magic. In front of him was an archway made of what appeared to be ancient stone. Hanging from the archway was an aged black veil that moved softly as if a gentle breeze were blowing. Harry stared at the veil without moving, barely able to breathe. He had seen this veil many times in his dreams over the summer, but something was different this time. Even as he stood on the rock dais, he could still hear the droning of Uncle Vernon's car radio. He could still feel the heat of the sun upon his face, even though the room in which the veil stood was bleak and dark.
And the voices were different. Always in Harry's dreams he could hear Sirius behind the veil. Sirius, calling him softly, seeming to encourage Harry to walk through the archway to join his godfather. Harry could never make out the words in his dreams, but the cheerful tone in Sirius's voice made Harry feel an inner tug, a powerful desire to walk forward that seemed impossible to ignore. But this time, the voice Harry heard came from another source, and while it was familiar, it was not Sirius. This oily, drawling voice came from behind Harry, and it was accompanied by a hand on Harry's shoulder. "What are you waiting for, Potter?"
Harry stiffened as Snape's grip on his shoulder tightened. A horn beeped somewhere in the distance, and Uncle Vernon said a rude word under his breath.
"He can see you, "Snape continued. "He knows your actions, your thoughts and fears. What are you going to do about it?"
Harry fought to clear his mind, to separate what he knew was real from what felt like a dream. The two worlds continued to blend together, as he could feel Snape's breath on his neck as real as he could feel the car seat he was sitting upon. Harry tried to concentrate on the feel of the car seat, refusing to look behind him for fear that he would see Snape instead of a rear window.
"I asked you what you are going to do!" Snape's words were harsh and impatient, and frustrated anger prevented Harry from trying to perceive his surroundings. He stared at the mysterious veil before him. "I – I want to be with Sirius," he stammered.
Snape inhaled sharply. "That is what he wants, as well. Are you going to give in so easily? I thought the 'famous' Harry Potter was so strong. You continue to let him control you! The wizarding world has foolishly put their faith in an reckless, emotional boy."
Harry felt his breath quicken and his face grow heated. He wanted desperately to prove Snape wrong, but the potions professor's words fanned his temper like a flame. Snape made a sound that was half chuckle, half scoff. "Well, don't keep him waiting, Potter. Can't you hear him calling?"
In that instant, all noise faded away. There was no traffic, no radio, and no sound of Hedwig rustling restlessly in her cage. Harry couldn't even hear his own breathing. All he was aware of was the dark curtain in before him, the only sound he could hear was the minuscule whispers of the rippling fabric. And then, a voice. A soft voice that was at once alarming and enticing, foreboding and promising. Snape was right. The voice was calling him. Harry felt his body leaning forward, almost of its own accord. There was nothing else, no one else, no thought in Harry's mind other than that voice. He had to follow it, he had to find it. His right foot stepped forward, lifting from the stone base of the archway and –
Several things then happened. The grip that Snape had on Harry's shoulder suddenly became painfully strong, and Harry felt himself being pulled back so roughly that he slammed against the back of the car seat. At the same time, an enraged howl filled Harry's head, rising from a low roar to an ear-piercing scream. The otherworldly sound of the scream was mingled with the screech of tires, and as Harry opened his eyes, he saw that Uncle Vernon had pulled the car over to the side of the street. Once again, it was just Harry, Hedwig, and Uncle Vernon in the car. The Department of Mysteries and Snape had disappeared.
Uncle Vernon turned around in his seat, and his eyes narrowed suspiciously as he looked at Harry. "What are you doing?" he demanded.
Harry realized he had his hands tightly clamped over his ears. The sound of the scream was still fresh in his memory; in fact, it seemed he could still hear a slowly fading echo. "Didn't you hear..?" Harry trailed off as he lowered his hands, not daring to finish the sentence. It did not seem like a good idea to describe to his uncle what he had just experienced. Instead, he looked out at the surroundings, and saw that Uncle Vernon had stopped the car about two blocks down from the Leaky Cauldron.
"What are you waiting for?"
Harry jerked his head back around to look at Uncle Vernon. "What did you say?"
"I said, what are you waiting for! I haven't all day. Get your bird and your things. This is as far as I am going to take you into that...neighborhood." Uncle Vernon looked around anxiously, spying an older man with a walking cane. Uncle Vernon gave the man a wary look, obviously mistrusting the cane, and locked his door.
Harry quickly opened the back door and scrambled out of the car, bumping Hedwig's cage against the door frame in the process. He set down the cage as Hedwig hooted up at him angrily, then moved to the rear of the car to lift out his trunk. Harry's whole body was inexplicably aching, and as he lowered his trunk onto the sidewalk, he narrowly missed dropping it onto his foot. Harry heard his uncle snicker. "Right, then." Uncle Vernon looked very jolly as he turned back around in his car seat and pulled away from the curb, leaving Harry standing on the side of the street without so much as a good-bye.
Harry watched his uncle's car disappear back into traffic. As soon as he was sure Uncle Vernon was well out of sight, Harry dropped down onto his trunk and let out a shaky sigh. He was shuddering, and felt somewhat weak. His head throbbed. The echo of the scream had finally ceased, but the frightened memory of it was another matter. Harry lifted a shaking hand to push his sweaty bangs away from his glasses. Part of his mind was trying to understand the "dream" he had just had, while another part wanted to ignore the whole episode altogether. At least until he had gotten to the Leaky Cauldron. Right now, sitting on the side of the London streets with a sheet- covered cage and a large moving trunk, he was already attracting odd looks. Harry forced himself to his feet, and pulling the sheet off of Hedwig's cage, shoved it into his trunk. Before closing the lid, Harry retrieved his wand. He quickly stuck the wand in the back pocket of his jeans, at the same time pulling out his shirt and letting his shirttail hang over his waist. Then grabbing a handle of his trunk in one hand and Hedwig's cage in the other, Harry walked the two blocks to the Leaky Cauldron.