~*Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling deserves all credit*~
When Nightmares Are A Good Thing
Chapter 8: Reflection
The first thing Harry did, after he regained the ability to breathe, was remove the small box from underneath the loose floorboard and pull out one of the glass containers that held the muggle alcohol.
After a rather large swig, Harry shook his head from side to side as if hoping to shake or invoke some sense of reality into his shocked mind. There was no way that his Head of House and Headmaster were really his Grandparents!
Harry mentally placed a silencing charm around his room as he paced the length. He took another swallow of the bitter tasting substance that seemed to burn his throat welcomingly as it slid down. The ache seemed to dull the weight that appeared to have settled inside of his constricted chest.
How could he have Grandparents and not have been told? Why did Dumbledore not want him to know? Surely he would have been more than happy to grant Harry with the one thing he had always wanted: a family. Seeing as Aunt Petunia was only his aunt, (and nonmagical at that) wouldn't he have been safer with two magical grandparents? Another thing, why was everyone so quick to tell him that all of his relations had died? Whenever he had gathered his courage to ask about the rest of his family, he was told that all he had was Petunia, Vernon, and Dudley.
A sudden thought occurred to Harry. He strode over to his makeshift potions lab and picked up the parchment. He looked under the names of his Grandparents to see that there was, indeed, only one child by the name of Lily listed beneath them. So, in reality, was Harry NOT related to his 'Aunt' Petunia in any way? If so, how were the wards that surrounded Privet Drive number 4 still functioning if the family blood was not in possession by any of the other household members?
Still brooding, Harry sank down onto his bed. He banished the bottled products from his potions work to his trunk and got rid of the table. There was a slight tingling feeling across his lips and his reactions seemed to be slowing down. In all truth, the feeling was rather odd. If Harry turned his head, it took twice as long for his brain to register what he was seeing. Oh sure, under aged drinking was probably not the way to deal with his emotions, but at that moment in time Harry Potter could have cared less.
Bottle in hand, the teenager laid back on his bed and stared up at the ceiling while incoherently trying to sort figure out his emotions so that he could decide what to do about his new discovery.
On one hand, if he were to confront the pair, they could pretend as if they had no idea what Harry was talking about and try to offer him help, not that Harry fully believed the geneal results yet.
On the other, they could explain why they wanted nothing to do with him and tell him how sorry they feel for him. As much as Harry would have loved to have grown up with his grandparents, he also agreed with his subconscious in the sense that they shouldn't have been forced to look after Harry just because he was related to them. Nor "Aunt" Petunia, for that matter. Whoever was stuck with Harry would be the one burdened and would be in danger in times like these.
All these thoughts were so confusing to Harry. His head seemed to ache just from thinking about it all. Blindly, he took another drink from the almost half gone bottle. The loud gale-like laugh of Marge was audible through the one way silencing charms.
Harry slowly turned his head to see that the color of the sky was dark, outside of his window. After securing the cap on the alcoholic beverage, Harry placed it on his nightstand along with his shirt and glasses.
His exercise routine that night were quite a challenge and took twice as long considering his slightly inebriated state, but Harry managed to get the job done before laying face down on his bed and subjecting himself to a much needed sleep.
It was late in the morning of Wednesday when the sound of a meal being pushed through the cat flap in his door awoke him. A terrible throb in his head was the first thing Harry noticed about his body, as he tried to make his way to the door. He silently erected a fresh silencing charm before he made his way to the muggle aspirin that Fred and George had sent along his way.
By the time he and his heavy body got around to the cat flap, Harry realized that there was not only a late breakfast plate waiting, but also last night's dinner and a small snack. Though the meals were nothing fancy (not even close to Mrs. Weasley or Hogwarts standards) they were certainly a very generous offering considering the past meals the Dursley's had forced him to bear. Harry guessed that the meals were a sort of meager peace offering, after Uncle Vernon's abuse...
The full impact of what his uncle had done came crashing down on Harry. Abused. He had always been what adults called neglected, but never, outside of Dudley and his gang during "Harry Hunting", had his family actually struck him with such force like that. Thinking back, Aunt Petunia had swung a frying pan at him, nearly missing. She had slapped his cheek, once, for an excuse he had given when he had accidentally done magic. Even then, it was only a light blow that shook him to his sense to close his mouth. And, there was the starvation, poor clothing, and lack of correct bedding.
With a sigh he glanced over the food and took a couple pieces of bacon and sausages to eat. We swallowed a bit of the milk along with the aspirin he had fetched before magically scourifying both plate's contents.
In a daze, Harry went through the motions of his morning routine before pondering what sort of training to do, which would keep his mind off the previous actions of his relatives, and the shocking discovery of his grandparents.
His eye fell on the books that were piled at the end of his bed by his trunk. Deciding to do some cleaning and organizing, Harry took everything out of his trunk, and then began sorting through them. The old cloths from Dudley were set far away from his, in a pile across the room. His books were stacked at his feet, and all his possessions and gifts were laid gently on his bed.
Harry suddenly realized that all of his things were going to be crammed into his trunk, unless he enlarged it. So, he opened the book that held household spells and found the charm that would either enlarge a space, or create a second.
He thought the incantation clearly, and focused on making a secret second compartment to his trunk. On inspection, Harry saw no difference and slammed the lid shut in frustration. Defeating Voldemort for the wizarding world was going to be difficult enough as it was, but even more so if he couldn't follow directions.
He pushed his anger aside using his occlumency relaxing technique, and opened his trunk again to continue his effort. As he looked down into it, he realized that this was not the same compartment.
Curious. Harry threw a book into the bottom and closed the lid. He concentrated on the compartment that his trunk had been made with. He opened the lid to discover it there again! Another repetition of that proved that all Harry had to do was focus on which compartment he wanted, lid closed or not! He was slightly shocked to see the previous book materialize in the bottom of compartment two without him closing the lid yet.
His confidence in his magical abilities reinforced, Harry decided to used the second space to place any thing that he wanted kept secret in. So, the alcohol, the remaining packs of cigarettes, aspirin, his last will and testament, the letters to all his friends in case of his death, all the letters that he had ever received, his potion from the day before, his mirror and knife (that he refused to attempt to repair), invisibility cloak, marauders map, photo album, and his dream journal were all secured in place.
The original compartment held his new clothing, books, broom polishing kit, sneakoscope, Weasley sweaters, and other various keepsakes.
As he turned away from the completed task he was greeted by the sight of his Dursley hand-me-downs, his "blood towel" placed on top.
He hastily sorted through the worn tents and picked out the best of the shirts and pants to store in his trunk, should he ever need them. The rest was chucked into the bottom of his wardrobe to be left when he went to King's Cross.
When that was done, Harry, who's back was feeling better due to the aspirin that was starting to work, decided to focus on his dueling book.
The day passed with little event. Dudley had shown up not long after Harry had started reading to unlock his room and usher him to the bathroom, as Marge was not to leave until the evening train.
The look on Dudley's face was the same as it usually was, but his voice seemed to lack the duress that had been present in the past when taunting Harry. He wondered briefly if he knew of the events that had taken place in the house recently.
During Harry's reading through of his "Dueling for Experts" he found a particularly interesting spell that would cause one's opponent momentarily devoid of all senses. He made a mental note to himself to try that one out the next time he had a partner and could practice magic without fear of getting into trouble or his secret abilities being discovered. Ron and Hermione were perfect candidates for the job.
Though he did read the entire book and memorize most of the curse within it, Harry had a hard time concentrating. As soon as he would get away from his thoughts, something in the text would trigger his memory again. Surely any normal person would be reminded of their Uncle's belt lashing if they read the words "results in large welts, bruises, gashes, and freely bleeding cuts."
Around seven there was the usual fussy noise of conversation as Aunt Marge started in on her hour long good bye to Aunt Petunia and Dudley.
Harry put his recent dreams into consideration. It seemed that he was doing rather well lately, therefore he decided to go to sleep a little early after his routine, thinking he would possibly sleep with only one nightmare of either Sirius, his parents, or Cedric. How very wrong he was.
Not thirty minuets after the boy fell asleep did he start thrashing around, clutching his forehead in the midst of a vision. This is how Petunia found the boy, when she opened the door and walked past the silencing wards to feed the boy his nightly meal and allow him access to the loo, not that the danger of Marge seeing him was past.
Harry awoke to the feel of his back aching, his heart pounding, and his scar throbbing. He looked up to see the blonde hair of his aunt above him.
"S-Sorry Aunt Petunia, I didn't mean to wake you," the boy managed to mutter between the involuntary shudders his body was giving as a reply to the dream he had had. In truth, had he not just had woken up in pain and with a task at hand to perform, he would have considered why his Aunt was there in the first place and would have wondered if his silencing charm had failed.
But as he remembered the nightmare, he forced his body out of the bed and to his desk where he fumbled with his quill and parchment as he wrote the following letter.
Headmaster Dumbledore,
You asked to be informed of my visions...Here goes.
I was standing in a room that seemed to be a dungeon; very dark, dank, and dirty. I felt very... murderous and the next person that walked in, I hit with a killing curse. I was very angry at the man under the mask for something. I don't know why, exactly. A few more people apparated into the room when I summoned them, again I am not entirely sure as to who was under these mask, but I KNOW one was Bellatrix Lestrange. I'd know her voice-
Here Harry left the rest of the sentence out, in order to keep the world from knowing that her heard her taunt her cousin to his death almost every night in his sleep.
-Well, she was one of them. I told the ones present that I wanted a tighter reign on some prisoner. After I...well, crucioed and tortured some of them for whatever they had done to dissatisfy me, I explained that I wanted no slip ups in the upcoming mission that if I were to pull of the master plan, I would need all loyal followers at hand. Personally, I think I was referring to the death eaters in Azkaban. It was near the end of the vision that I caught a glimpse of myself in a puddle of water on the floor of the room. I had red eyes, and looked just like Voldemort. That's when I realized that I WAS Voldemort! I was woke up before he felt me there, I believe. If he did realize I was there, he didn't get much of a chance to do anything. That's all of the details about the nightma ...dream I had.
Harry
Forgetting that his Aunt was still sitting on his bed, Harry rolled up the parchment and walked as best as he could over to where Hedwig was resting on the windowsill. HE considered placing a locking charm on the scroll, but then Dumbledore would know of his ability to do wandless magic and that was something he wished to keep private so that he could sculpt it into a secret weapon.
"Hedwig, girl, I need you to take this to Professor Dumbledore as fast as you can. Got it?"
Hedwig bobbed her head once and flew up to Harry's arm so that he could attach the letter.
"Be careful out there. I don't want you getting attacked again. Only the Headmaster should read this. Can I count on you?"
The snowy owl lightly nipped his ear in an affectionate manner before making a quick and swift exit through the opened window.
With a sigh, Harry turned around considering what to do when he remembered his Aunt sitting on his bed with a plate in her hands.
"I'm...err, sorry to wake you." Harry said plainly while watching his Aunt stare though him.
He cautiously walked back to his bed and sat down to go back to sleep, or rather to pretend to still be sleepy so that his Aunt would end this strange happening.
What did happen though was very confusing for Harry. He felt bony fingers ghost over the not quite closed wounds on his back in silence which lasted for roughly tens seconds before his Aunt thrust the plate into his hands and bolted the room and slammed the door.
Harry glanced down at the plate and noticed it was full of fresh food. Too bad this had not occurred during a summer when he actually had an appetite.
He sat the food on his bed's table, before going to his trunk and opening the second compartment. Before reaching in the darkness, Harry had the sense to turn his light on for a moment. The large red scab on his wrist reminded him of what had happened before. Harry selected a pain numbing potion and a dreamless sleep that were both about halfway filled.
When he was settled in his bed again, Harry swallowed the pain numbing potion first, sighing with relief. He shook his head knowing that he couldn't live his life dependent on potions for whatever it was in his life that caused his pain or grief. Therefore he only drank a half-mouthful of the dreamless sleep. The smaller dose allowed his a few moments to relax into the pillow and ponder about what was going to happen now.
When Nightmares Are A Good Thing
Chapter 8: Reflection
The first thing Harry did, after he regained the ability to breathe, was remove the small box from underneath the loose floorboard and pull out one of the glass containers that held the muggle alcohol.
After a rather large swig, Harry shook his head from side to side as if hoping to shake or invoke some sense of reality into his shocked mind. There was no way that his Head of House and Headmaster were really his Grandparents!
Harry mentally placed a silencing charm around his room as he paced the length. He took another swallow of the bitter tasting substance that seemed to burn his throat welcomingly as it slid down. The ache seemed to dull the weight that appeared to have settled inside of his constricted chest.
How could he have Grandparents and not have been told? Why did Dumbledore not want him to know? Surely he would have been more than happy to grant Harry with the one thing he had always wanted: a family. Seeing as Aunt Petunia was only his aunt, (and nonmagical at that) wouldn't he have been safer with two magical grandparents? Another thing, why was everyone so quick to tell him that all of his relations had died? Whenever he had gathered his courage to ask about the rest of his family, he was told that all he had was Petunia, Vernon, and Dudley.
A sudden thought occurred to Harry. He strode over to his makeshift potions lab and picked up the parchment. He looked under the names of his Grandparents to see that there was, indeed, only one child by the name of Lily listed beneath them. So, in reality, was Harry NOT related to his 'Aunt' Petunia in any way? If so, how were the wards that surrounded Privet Drive number 4 still functioning if the family blood was not in possession by any of the other household members?
Still brooding, Harry sank down onto his bed. He banished the bottled products from his potions work to his trunk and got rid of the table. There was a slight tingling feeling across his lips and his reactions seemed to be slowing down. In all truth, the feeling was rather odd. If Harry turned his head, it took twice as long for his brain to register what he was seeing. Oh sure, under aged drinking was probably not the way to deal with his emotions, but at that moment in time Harry Potter could have cared less.
Bottle in hand, the teenager laid back on his bed and stared up at the ceiling while incoherently trying to sort figure out his emotions so that he could decide what to do about his new discovery.
On one hand, if he were to confront the pair, they could pretend as if they had no idea what Harry was talking about and try to offer him help, not that Harry fully believed the geneal results yet.
On the other, they could explain why they wanted nothing to do with him and tell him how sorry they feel for him. As much as Harry would have loved to have grown up with his grandparents, he also agreed with his subconscious in the sense that they shouldn't have been forced to look after Harry just because he was related to them. Nor "Aunt" Petunia, for that matter. Whoever was stuck with Harry would be the one burdened and would be in danger in times like these.
All these thoughts were so confusing to Harry. His head seemed to ache just from thinking about it all. Blindly, he took another drink from the almost half gone bottle. The loud gale-like laugh of Marge was audible through the one way silencing charms.
Harry slowly turned his head to see that the color of the sky was dark, outside of his window. After securing the cap on the alcoholic beverage, Harry placed it on his nightstand along with his shirt and glasses.
His exercise routine that night were quite a challenge and took twice as long considering his slightly inebriated state, but Harry managed to get the job done before laying face down on his bed and subjecting himself to a much needed sleep.
It was late in the morning of Wednesday when the sound of a meal being pushed through the cat flap in his door awoke him. A terrible throb in his head was the first thing Harry noticed about his body, as he tried to make his way to the door. He silently erected a fresh silencing charm before he made his way to the muggle aspirin that Fred and George had sent along his way.
By the time he and his heavy body got around to the cat flap, Harry realized that there was not only a late breakfast plate waiting, but also last night's dinner and a small snack. Though the meals were nothing fancy (not even close to Mrs. Weasley or Hogwarts standards) they were certainly a very generous offering considering the past meals the Dursley's had forced him to bear. Harry guessed that the meals were a sort of meager peace offering, after Uncle Vernon's abuse...
The full impact of what his uncle had done came crashing down on Harry. Abused. He had always been what adults called neglected, but never, outside of Dudley and his gang during "Harry Hunting", had his family actually struck him with such force like that. Thinking back, Aunt Petunia had swung a frying pan at him, nearly missing. She had slapped his cheek, once, for an excuse he had given when he had accidentally done magic. Even then, it was only a light blow that shook him to his sense to close his mouth. And, there was the starvation, poor clothing, and lack of correct bedding.
With a sigh he glanced over the food and took a couple pieces of bacon and sausages to eat. We swallowed a bit of the milk along with the aspirin he had fetched before magically scourifying both plate's contents.
In a daze, Harry went through the motions of his morning routine before pondering what sort of training to do, which would keep his mind off the previous actions of his relatives, and the shocking discovery of his grandparents.
His eye fell on the books that were piled at the end of his bed by his trunk. Deciding to do some cleaning and organizing, Harry took everything out of his trunk, and then began sorting through them. The old cloths from Dudley were set far away from his, in a pile across the room. His books were stacked at his feet, and all his possessions and gifts were laid gently on his bed.
Harry suddenly realized that all of his things were going to be crammed into his trunk, unless he enlarged it. So, he opened the book that held household spells and found the charm that would either enlarge a space, or create a second.
He thought the incantation clearly, and focused on making a secret second compartment to his trunk. On inspection, Harry saw no difference and slammed the lid shut in frustration. Defeating Voldemort for the wizarding world was going to be difficult enough as it was, but even more so if he couldn't follow directions.
He pushed his anger aside using his occlumency relaxing technique, and opened his trunk again to continue his effort. As he looked down into it, he realized that this was not the same compartment.
Curious. Harry threw a book into the bottom and closed the lid. He concentrated on the compartment that his trunk had been made with. He opened the lid to discover it there again! Another repetition of that proved that all Harry had to do was focus on which compartment he wanted, lid closed or not! He was slightly shocked to see the previous book materialize in the bottom of compartment two without him closing the lid yet.
His confidence in his magical abilities reinforced, Harry decided to used the second space to place any thing that he wanted kept secret in. So, the alcohol, the remaining packs of cigarettes, aspirin, his last will and testament, the letters to all his friends in case of his death, all the letters that he had ever received, his potion from the day before, his mirror and knife (that he refused to attempt to repair), invisibility cloak, marauders map, photo album, and his dream journal were all secured in place.
The original compartment held his new clothing, books, broom polishing kit, sneakoscope, Weasley sweaters, and other various keepsakes.
As he turned away from the completed task he was greeted by the sight of his Dursley hand-me-downs, his "blood towel" placed on top.
He hastily sorted through the worn tents and picked out the best of the shirts and pants to store in his trunk, should he ever need them. The rest was chucked into the bottom of his wardrobe to be left when he went to King's Cross.
When that was done, Harry, who's back was feeling better due to the aspirin that was starting to work, decided to focus on his dueling book.
The day passed with little event. Dudley had shown up not long after Harry had started reading to unlock his room and usher him to the bathroom, as Marge was not to leave until the evening train.
The look on Dudley's face was the same as it usually was, but his voice seemed to lack the duress that had been present in the past when taunting Harry. He wondered briefly if he knew of the events that had taken place in the house recently.
During Harry's reading through of his "Dueling for Experts" he found a particularly interesting spell that would cause one's opponent momentarily devoid of all senses. He made a mental note to himself to try that one out the next time he had a partner and could practice magic without fear of getting into trouble or his secret abilities being discovered. Ron and Hermione were perfect candidates for the job.
Though he did read the entire book and memorize most of the curse within it, Harry had a hard time concentrating. As soon as he would get away from his thoughts, something in the text would trigger his memory again. Surely any normal person would be reminded of their Uncle's belt lashing if they read the words "results in large welts, bruises, gashes, and freely bleeding cuts."
Around seven there was the usual fussy noise of conversation as Aunt Marge started in on her hour long good bye to Aunt Petunia and Dudley.
Harry put his recent dreams into consideration. It seemed that he was doing rather well lately, therefore he decided to go to sleep a little early after his routine, thinking he would possibly sleep with only one nightmare of either Sirius, his parents, or Cedric. How very wrong he was.
Not thirty minuets after the boy fell asleep did he start thrashing around, clutching his forehead in the midst of a vision. This is how Petunia found the boy, when she opened the door and walked past the silencing wards to feed the boy his nightly meal and allow him access to the loo, not that the danger of Marge seeing him was past.
Harry awoke to the feel of his back aching, his heart pounding, and his scar throbbing. He looked up to see the blonde hair of his aunt above him.
"S-Sorry Aunt Petunia, I didn't mean to wake you," the boy managed to mutter between the involuntary shudders his body was giving as a reply to the dream he had had. In truth, had he not just had woken up in pain and with a task at hand to perform, he would have considered why his Aunt was there in the first place and would have wondered if his silencing charm had failed.
But as he remembered the nightmare, he forced his body out of the bed and to his desk where he fumbled with his quill and parchment as he wrote the following letter.
Headmaster Dumbledore,
You asked to be informed of my visions...Here goes.
I was standing in a room that seemed to be a dungeon; very dark, dank, and dirty. I felt very... murderous and the next person that walked in, I hit with a killing curse. I was very angry at the man under the mask for something. I don't know why, exactly. A few more people apparated into the room when I summoned them, again I am not entirely sure as to who was under these mask, but I KNOW one was Bellatrix Lestrange. I'd know her voice-
Here Harry left the rest of the sentence out, in order to keep the world from knowing that her heard her taunt her cousin to his death almost every night in his sleep.
-Well, she was one of them. I told the ones present that I wanted a tighter reign on some prisoner. After I...well, crucioed and tortured some of them for whatever they had done to dissatisfy me, I explained that I wanted no slip ups in the upcoming mission that if I were to pull of the master plan, I would need all loyal followers at hand. Personally, I think I was referring to the death eaters in Azkaban. It was near the end of the vision that I caught a glimpse of myself in a puddle of water on the floor of the room. I had red eyes, and looked just like Voldemort. That's when I realized that I WAS Voldemort! I was woke up before he felt me there, I believe. If he did realize I was there, he didn't get much of a chance to do anything. That's all of the details about the nightma ...dream I had.
Harry
Forgetting that his Aunt was still sitting on his bed, Harry rolled up the parchment and walked as best as he could over to where Hedwig was resting on the windowsill. HE considered placing a locking charm on the scroll, but then Dumbledore would know of his ability to do wandless magic and that was something he wished to keep private so that he could sculpt it into a secret weapon.
"Hedwig, girl, I need you to take this to Professor Dumbledore as fast as you can. Got it?"
Hedwig bobbed her head once and flew up to Harry's arm so that he could attach the letter.
"Be careful out there. I don't want you getting attacked again. Only the Headmaster should read this. Can I count on you?"
The snowy owl lightly nipped his ear in an affectionate manner before making a quick and swift exit through the opened window.
With a sigh, Harry turned around considering what to do when he remembered his Aunt sitting on his bed with a plate in her hands.
"I'm...err, sorry to wake you." Harry said plainly while watching his Aunt stare though him.
He cautiously walked back to his bed and sat down to go back to sleep, or rather to pretend to still be sleepy so that his Aunt would end this strange happening.
What did happen though was very confusing for Harry. He felt bony fingers ghost over the not quite closed wounds on his back in silence which lasted for roughly tens seconds before his Aunt thrust the plate into his hands and bolted the room and slammed the door.
Harry glanced down at the plate and noticed it was full of fresh food. Too bad this had not occurred during a summer when he actually had an appetite.
He sat the food on his bed's table, before going to his trunk and opening the second compartment. Before reaching in the darkness, Harry had the sense to turn his light on for a moment. The large red scab on his wrist reminded him of what had happened before. Harry selected a pain numbing potion and a dreamless sleep that were both about halfway filled.
When he was settled in his bed again, Harry swallowed the pain numbing potion first, sighing with relief. He shook his head knowing that he couldn't live his life dependent on potions for whatever it was in his life that caused his pain or grief. Therefore he only drank a half-mouthful of the dreamless sleep. The smaller dose allowed his a few moments to relax into the pillow and ponder about what was going to happen now.