`*Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling deserves ALL credit*~
When Nightmares Are A Good Thing
Chapter 3: Ignored Letters
"Cedric, no!"
Harry bolted upright in his bed. Another nightmare from the graveyard had, yet again, found its way into Harry's sleep.
He wiped his sweaty forehead on his dingy white bed sheet before he rolled out of bed very painfully. His body was very stiff at his shoulder and elbow joints. Also, his upper body muscles screamed, when forced to move, like they were spontaneously lit on fire. Harry ignored his this as well as the emptiness of his stomach. He hadn't eaten anything yesterday, nor had he eaten anything, save a piece of toast and jam at breakfast, the day before that.
A tap at the window demanded his attention. Hedwig was hovering outside, waiting patiently for the boy to let her in.
"Hey there, girl. Did you have a good flight?" Harry asked after opening the window for her to enter through.
Harry smiled slightly as his snowy owl hooted affectionately and nipped at his fingers from her place on the desk. She nudged his right forearm in concern, having seen the red-tinted gauze and smelt the blood.
"I'm alright, girl. Just a little accident is all." Harry disclosed to the only one, other than him, to endure the Dursley's.
He glanced her legs to see not just one, but three letters tied together. Harry quickly removed the burdens before leading Hedwig to her cage in the corner for a drink of water and an owl treat.
Those letters weren't a good sign. It meant that his letter had worried them; therefore many had sent back notes of meaningless advice. Why they all thought they could coax him into spilling his guts was beyond his comprehension. Ron and Hermione knew better then to continue bugging about a subject that he was tight lipped about.
Harry sorted through the small pile to find that the first was from Ron, the second was in Professor Lupin's handwriting, and the last was written by the headmaster; Albus Dumbledore.
With a sigh, Harry tossed Ron's onto the top of his desk where all the other unopened letters resided. He thought he could get away with just skimming through his old Defense teachers, but he would have to open Dumbledore's and reply, he was sure.
"Well, he can just wait for that reply like I did waited all year long." Harry mumbled out loud. He knew that was very childish of him. The old man had simply done what he thought was best, but there was still something about the whole situation that was still nagging at him in the back of his mind.
He turned to look at Hedwig, who was watching him reproachfully with her amber painted eyes.
"Let me know when you've rested. I have an important letter to be delivered to the Weasley twins." Harry said.
Immediately, Hedwig fluttered to the desk in front of Harry and stuck out her leg.
'Must have spent some spare time over at headquarters waiting their replies,' Harry thought to himself.
None-the-less, Harry attached the envelope (clad with what galleons, sickles, and knuts he had left) to the owl's leg before she exited the way she came in.
Harry dropped to the floor gingerly and commenced his training. Fighting through the discomfort the way he had the night before, Harry reached his goal of 100 only stopping once; twice including both exercises.
Once he was done, Harry changed out yesterday's day clothes and slipped into another pair of ridiculously huge pair of trousers and a baggy long-sleeved tee shirt to hide his wound from any of the Order members who might be watching.
The teenage boy walked down the stairs to find Dudley eating lunch and his Aunt sitting at the table, flipping through a gossip magazine. Harry entered the kitchen quietly and went about making a simple sandwich. He filled a glass of water and sat down in a vacant seat and began consuming his the second scanty meal in two days. Halfway through the sandwich, Harry found he didn't want to finish it but forced himself to go on. He knew the punishment would be bold for wasting food that Dudley could have otherwise eaten.
Feeling completely full and slightly nauseated, Harry made his way back to his bedroom where he spent the rest of the day reading his second year books.
It didn't take Harry near as much time to read through his second-year books as it did his first considering there was really only one or two worth reading. The others were all embellishments written by Gilderoy Lockhart. Therefore, Harry took his time reading the real books and only thumbed through his defense books briefly. Late in the afternoon Harry picked up his new 'dream journal' and jotted down his nightmare of the graveyard and Voldemort's rebirth.
When that was finished, Harry turned his attention to the remaining potions and transfiguration essays that were due. Harry spent as much time as he could on each, putting every detail he knew into descriptive words. Even Hermione would have been hard pressed to complain over the effort Harry put into them.
It was then, as he was putting away his finished homework and their respective books, that Harry knew he couldn't afford to dawdle anymore. He had to read his mail.
So, Harry picked up the letter from Lupin and glanced through it. Nothing different, just the usual concern for his mental being, how he was really be treated by the Dursleys, and the promise that he would be there if Harry needed someone to talk to. Harry actually rolled his eyes a little at this. He appreciated the gesture, sure, but the werewolf had mentioned it twice in this letter and in twice in all of the others he had sent so far!
Shaking his head, Harry broke the headmaster's seal and read the letter.
Dear Harry,
I hope this letter finds you in better spirits, my boys. I daresay you were unapt to speak with anyone when I last saw you.
I know the last thing you want to do right now is to speak with me, so I will only insist that you write me about any unusual dreams or visions you have. As you know (and probably have felt) Voldemort has been somewhat quiet since he was thwarted for the fifth time.
I cannot tell you anything of importance, but I will say that everything (and everyone) is fine.
Harry, I do hope you can understand me. You need not forgive me now, but please try to relate to my situation. I did what I thought was best. You know how that feels, to do something to the best of your capability and knowledge only to have the situation react differently.
I am always here for you to talk to. Anytime you need.
Sincerely, Albus Dumbledore
Harry dropped the letter as if it were on fire. He knew that the old man was right in everything he said, but Harry's mind was still chewing on an unknown flavor of fat. The confused teenager pondered on it for a moment. He had lost his trust in Dumbledore when he found out that the prophecy was kept a secret from him for so long, but had he? If he were placed in a life or death situation, would he trust Dumbledore? 'Of course!' his mind argued. If it wasn't an issue of trust, was it betrayal or did he simply get his feelings hurt? True, not having the headmaster look at him for an entire year was quite painful.
The boy decided to shove all of his thought aside to be examined at a later date. Harry, for the second time that day, lowered himself to the floor to do his exercises.
Once finished, Harry clamored downstairs for a late 'dinner' in which consisted of a slightly bruised apple and a large glass of milk.
Harry then made his back upstairs, cautiously avoiding any stray looks from his Aunt, and Uncle.
When he opened the door, Harry saw Hedwig perched on his desk chair, reply in tow. He closed the window and took his note from his bird before sitting down on his bed to read. The note from the twins said, more or less, that they would be delighted to do as Harry asked. He should receive a package in the mail sometime soon. The half of the wizarding money he sent was included along with quite a sum of muggle money. The twins had written a postscript claiming that they couldn't bear to take money from someone who had once given them fifty times more than that sum out of the goodness out of his heart. They said they would be repaying his kindness and this was only step one.
Harry breathed a shaky breath. That promise from a Weasley was enough to make a Marauder nervous.
He quickly changed into pajama bottoms, gripped his wand, and lay down on his bed. His last thoughts were of how glad he was to know the Weasley family.
When Nightmares Are A Good Thing
Chapter 3: Ignored Letters
"Cedric, no!"
Harry bolted upright in his bed. Another nightmare from the graveyard had, yet again, found its way into Harry's sleep.
He wiped his sweaty forehead on his dingy white bed sheet before he rolled out of bed very painfully. His body was very stiff at his shoulder and elbow joints. Also, his upper body muscles screamed, when forced to move, like they were spontaneously lit on fire. Harry ignored his this as well as the emptiness of his stomach. He hadn't eaten anything yesterday, nor had he eaten anything, save a piece of toast and jam at breakfast, the day before that.
A tap at the window demanded his attention. Hedwig was hovering outside, waiting patiently for the boy to let her in.
"Hey there, girl. Did you have a good flight?" Harry asked after opening the window for her to enter through.
Harry smiled slightly as his snowy owl hooted affectionately and nipped at his fingers from her place on the desk. She nudged his right forearm in concern, having seen the red-tinted gauze and smelt the blood.
"I'm alright, girl. Just a little accident is all." Harry disclosed to the only one, other than him, to endure the Dursley's.
He glanced her legs to see not just one, but three letters tied together. Harry quickly removed the burdens before leading Hedwig to her cage in the corner for a drink of water and an owl treat.
Those letters weren't a good sign. It meant that his letter had worried them; therefore many had sent back notes of meaningless advice. Why they all thought they could coax him into spilling his guts was beyond his comprehension. Ron and Hermione knew better then to continue bugging about a subject that he was tight lipped about.
Harry sorted through the small pile to find that the first was from Ron, the second was in Professor Lupin's handwriting, and the last was written by the headmaster; Albus Dumbledore.
With a sigh, Harry tossed Ron's onto the top of his desk where all the other unopened letters resided. He thought he could get away with just skimming through his old Defense teachers, but he would have to open Dumbledore's and reply, he was sure.
"Well, he can just wait for that reply like I did waited all year long." Harry mumbled out loud. He knew that was very childish of him. The old man had simply done what he thought was best, but there was still something about the whole situation that was still nagging at him in the back of his mind.
He turned to look at Hedwig, who was watching him reproachfully with her amber painted eyes.
"Let me know when you've rested. I have an important letter to be delivered to the Weasley twins." Harry said.
Immediately, Hedwig fluttered to the desk in front of Harry and stuck out her leg.
'Must have spent some spare time over at headquarters waiting their replies,' Harry thought to himself.
None-the-less, Harry attached the envelope (clad with what galleons, sickles, and knuts he had left) to the owl's leg before she exited the way she came in.
Harry dropped to the floor gingerly and commenced his training. Fighting through the discomfort the way he had the night before, Harry reached his goal of 100 only stopping once; twice including both exercises.
Once he was done, Harry changed out yesterday's day clothes and slipped into another pair of ridiculously huge pair of trousers and a baggy long-sleeved tee shirt to hide his wound from any of the Order members who might be watching.
The teenage boy walked down the stairs to find Dudley eating lunch and his Aunt sitting at the table, flipping through a gossip magazine. Harry entered the kitchen quietly and went about making a simple sandwich. He filled a glass of water and sat down in a vacant seat and began consuming his the second scanty meal in two days. Halfway through the sandwich, Harry found he didn't want to finish it but forced himself to go on. He knew the punishment would be bold for wasting food that Dudley could have otherwise eaten.
Feeling completely full and slightly nauseated, Harry made his way back to his bedroom where he spent the rest of the day reading his second year books.
It didn't take Harry near as much time to read through his second-year books as it did his first considering there was really only one or two worth reading. The others were all embellishments written by Gilderoy Lockhart. Therefore, Harry took his time reading the real books and only thumbed through his defense books briefly. Late in the afternoon Harry picked up his new 'dream journal' and jotted down his nightmare of the graveyard and Voldemort's rebirth.
When that was finished, Harry turned his attention to the remaining potions and transfiguration essays that were due. Harry spent as much time as he could on each, putting every detail he knew into descriptive words. Even Hermione would have been hard pressed to complain over the effort Harry put into them.
It was then, as he was putting away his finished homework and their respective books, that Harry knew he couldn't afford to dawdle anymore. He had to read his mail.
So, Harry picked up the letter from Lupin and glanced through it. Nothing different, just the usual concern for his mental being, how he was really be treated by the Dursleys, and the promise that he would be there if Harry needed someone to talk to. Harry actually rolled his eyes a little at this. He appreciated the gesture, sure, but the werewolf had mentioned it twice in this letter and in twice in all of the others he had sent so far!
Shaking his head, Harry broke the headmaster's seal and read the letter.
Dear Harry,
I hope this letter finds you in better spirits, my boys. I daresay you were unapt to speak with anyone when I last saw you.
I know the last thing you want to do right now is to speak with me, so I will only insist that you write me about any unusual dreams or visions you have. As you know (and probably have felt) Voldemort has been somewhat quiet since he was thwarted for the fifth time.
I cannot tell you anything of importance, but I will say that everything (and everyone) is fine.
Harry, I do hope you can understand me. You need not forgive me now, but please try to relate to my situation. I did what I thought was best. You know how that feels, to do something to the best of your capability and knowledge only to have the situation react differently.
I am always here for you to talk to. Anytime you need.
Sincerely, Albus Dumbledore
Harry dropped the letter as if it were on fire. He knew that the old man was right in everything he said, but Harry's mind was still chewing on an unknown flavor of fat. The confused teenager pondered on it for a moment. He had lost his trust in Dumbledore when he found out that the prophecy was kept a secret from him for so long, but had he? If he were placed in a life or death situation, would he trust Dumbledore? 'Of course!' his mind argued. If it wasn't an issue of trust, was it betrayal or did he simply get his feelings hurt? True, not having the headmaster look at him for an entire year was quite painful.
The boy decided to shove all of his thought aside to be examined at a later date. Harry, for the second time that day, lowered himself to the floor to do his exercises.
Once finished, Harry clamored downstairs for a late 'dinner' in which consisted of a slightly bruised apple and a large glass of milk.
Harry then made his back upstairs, cautiously avoiding any stray looks from his Aunt, and Uncle.
When he opened the door, Harry saw Hedwig perched on his desk chair, reply in tow. He closed the window and took his note from his bird before sitting down on his bed to read. The note from the twins said, more or less, that they would be delighted to do as Harry asked. He should receive a package in the mail sometime soon. The half of the wizarding money he sent was included along with quite a sum of muggle money. The twins had written a postscript claiming that they couldn't bear to take money from someone who had once given them fifty times more than that sum out of the goodness out of his heart. They said they would be repaying his kindness and this was only step one.
Harry breathed a shaky breath. That promise from a Weasley was enough to make a Marauder nervous.
He quickly changed into pajama bottoms, gripped his wand, and lay down on his bed. His last thoughts were of how glad he was to know the Weasley family.