Chapter Five
The Hotel
Harry couldn't help himself as he flung his bag onto the bed closest to the wall (directly next to the bathroom the first bed on the way to the door.) Mr. Jacobson laughed, claiming the middle twin bed as Dudley, scowling, took the last one. There was a knock on a door that joined their bedroom with the single suite next door that River was staying in. He was the first up and unlocked the door, swinging it open.
River was grinning at him. "Isn't this place cool? There's a fridge in my room and come see! Come on, Dudley!" she exclaimed grabbing Harry's hand and pulling him in and then peeking through the doorway again to get Dudley.
He grumbled under his breath, muttering something like: "How can she have so much energy after sleeping on a train?" before Dudley walked towards her.
She took her hand into his, releasing Harry's and pulling him into the room. "Look, Dudley! I have a couch and a TV! You have a TV too! No that we will spend much time watching TV. Most likely we'll spend all day tomorrow in the water park." Dudley looked less than enthused at the idea but happily threw himself onto the couch and turned on the TV. "There's a little league football game being played here not tomorrow but the day after, Dudley." She seemed to be trying to please him. Harry shook his head, wishing he could help in some way but she was fighting a loosing battle. "Would you rather watch the game for the afternoon, then go out for a fancy dinner or something? Before we take the train home or something?"
"Yeah, sure, whatever you want." Dudley said, ignoring her.
River sighed disappointment was on her face. "It's getting late you guys, I think I'll go to bed." She said, her eyes downcast.
Dudley shot her a glare and then stood up, stalking into the adjoined bedroom. Harry, on impulse, touched her arm gently. She looked at him sharply. "Lets just do what ever you want to do, it is your birthday." Harry said gently.
She tried to smile but it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Thanks Harry. Goodnight."
"River, sweetheart, just to ease an old man's heart will you leave the door unlocked tonight? I promise no one will peek." Mr. Jacobson said walking into the room. She nodded. He walked towards her. "Are you all right, honey?"
"I'm fine, daddy. Goodnight." She said giving him a chaste kiss on the cheek. She gave Harry a friendly smile, this time it reached her eyes. "Goodnight Harry."
He smiled back. "Goodnight River." He said walking into his shared room. He only prayed he wouldn't have any dreams this night or he'd have to think of some excuse.
"Goodnight Dudley," she ventured as her father walked back into the shared room.
Dudley, surprising Harry, got up from the bed he had sat on to watch TV and moved over to her. He took her into his arms and his face covered hers. He made a face as Dudley kissed her…well it looked more like he was suffocating her. Part of him knew that he was only doing this to get Harry mad or to put on a show. "Goodnight, my pet." He said hurrying back to his bed, the show obviously coming back on.
River smiled at Harry before shutting the door. Harry glanced at Dudley and then shuttered. "Darn, we need ice in the ice bucket. Do any of you want some food or something?" Mr. Jacobson asked.
Harry dutifully shook his head while Dudley's eyes lit up. "Any and as much candy or chips you can find."
An odd look flickered across Mr. Jacobson's face before he left, carrying the gray bucket. Harry shook his head again walking into the restroom. He washed his face and brushed his teeth before walking out. He stopped in pure shock when he stepped out of the bathroom. Dudley was cracking the adjoining door open so he could—Harry made a face in disgust and stomped out.
"Dudley!" he hissed. His cousin stood up sharply, his head barely missing the door frame. "She is a decent girl, don't spy on her like a peeping Tom!" he snapped, feeling protective of the girl.
Dudley mimicked him. Before Harry even knew what was happening, Dudley had him pinned against the wall. There was a dangerous glint in his cousin's eyes. "Don't tell me what to do, Potter. She's mine and I'll do what I like."
"Whether she likes it or not!" he retorted, anger filling him.
Dudley's hand clasped around Harry's throat. "She's mine. Her opinion doesn't matter. I own her." His sneer was turning malice.
Harry felt a tremor of the fear he had felt when he was younger and Dudley's gang was chasing him as Dudley began to choke him. "Stop!" he kicked wildly but Dudley didn't stop until the hotel door flew open. "I found you a box of chips and assorted candies for…." Mr. Jacobson trailed off staring at the sight that greeted him. "What is going on?"
"I caught him peeking on River, Mr. Jacobson." Dudley said easily.
He rolled his emerald eyes. How is it that Dudley could always lie so easily to adults and they believed the whale? Mr. Jacobson looked at Harry startled. "Is that true?" the man looked horrified and shocked.
"No, Dudley simply wanted a punching bag and I was the best choice." He meant it literally but it was obvious Mr. Jacobson took it as sarcasim.
"Don't do it again." The steel tone reminded Harry of Snape briefly.
"That's what I was telling him."
"I think we should all turn in for the night." The cold look on Mr. Jacobson's face caused Harry's insides to turn to ice. He had liked the man and now River's father thought he was the disgusting peeping Tom.
Dudley dropped him and Harry crumpled down, almost to the floor, his hand massaging his throat discretely. Mr. Jacobson studied him before he took his turn changing in the bathroom. Harry was the last in the bathroom to chance and he glanced at his reflection. There was already a pink mark forming around his throat where Dudley had choked him. The bruise, luckily, wouldn't be large if one showed up at all. Sighing, Harry pulled on dark blue sweats and one of the few shirts that didn't hang below his knees, a plain black shirt.
Harry walked out and climbed into the bed. The mattress was so much more comfy than that of his home mattress and he was asleep before the lights were even shut off. The sleep didn't last long though, a haunting nightmare hit him before he even knew he was dreaming.
He was floating around in a beautiful mist. The mist changed colors and was fun to swim and float in and he was doing just that, feeling as if he was flying without his broom. He laughed cheerfully. He did a summersault in the air and giggled again. He had never felt so free before.
"Harry…" a voice that haunted him sounded. Harry looked about the mist. Someone was in the mist with him. His head snapped from side to side, he suddenly didn't like the thick mist. He couldn't see anything in them. "Harry…"
"Who's there?" he called out. "Where are you?"
"Behind you."
Harry whirled around and gave a horrified cry. For behind him, watching him with looks of disgust that mirror the Dursley's, were his parents and Sirius black. "No…" he whispered. He dove forward, throwing his arms around Sirius. He couldn't believe how real he felt. "Sirius! You're here!
"Let go of me!" the man practically shoved him away.
Luckily, for Harry, there was nothing in the mist to fall against. "What?"
"Do touch me." He snarled.
Tears filled his eyes. "Why?"
"I've had enough filth dirty my robes, I don't need the man who murdered me to make them worse."
Harry took a step back. "Man? There's a boy here. A pathetic boy, one that I wish I didn't have to call my son." James spoke, hatred filling his eyes.
"Dad?" a tear ran down Harry's cheek.
"Disappointing really…" James said shaking his head.
"James I wish I followed your and Sirius's advice and got an abortion. You're right, it was a mistake to have a child. Look at him," his mother shook her head. "So very disappointing."
Harry shook his head, closing his eyes tightly. It did nothing to stop the tears seeping out. "They're not real, you idiot. You know they aren't real. They can't be real."
"Not real?" Sirius let out a cold laugh that sounded more like a bark. "Of course we're real you fool."
He shook his head again. "No. This has to be a nightmare. You are all dead…wait, why am I talking to you? You aren't here! You can't be!" Squeezed his eyes shut tighter.
"Haven't left yet," James taunted.
"Not real, not real." Harry drew his knees into his chest and was rocking back and forth.
"Real enough." Sirius said before someone slapped Harry upside the face.
Harry's eyes flew open as he somersaulted backwards. He grabbed his cheek in shock, staring at his father. More tears down his face. He couldn't even speak. Suddenly someone else appeared in the mist behind his parents. A face Harry hadn't thought about for nearly half a year.
"You killed me, Harry." Whispered the voice.
"Cedric…no. I didn't. Voldemort did." Harry whispered, tears falling harder down his cheeks.
"'Lets take it together.'" Mimicked Cedric the same look of disgust passing his face. "You were trying to kill me."
"Murderer." Hissed Sirius.
"Murderer." They began saying softly.
"NO!" shouted Harry, pressing his hands over his ears.
"You killed us, Harry."
He couldn't disgust the voices now. More were joining, sounding like the pleading voices of the Muggles Harry had heard Voldemort murder.
"You were supposed to kill Voldemort. You failed."
"I couldn't! I'm only fifteen! Please! I didn't kill you! He did! I'll kill him for you!" he shouted, trying to get them to stop.
"You let us die."
"NO!"
"You let us die."
"You failed me, you failed everyone," Sirius spoke.
"No,"
"You are no child of mine," The whisper hit him hard, teas filling his eyes once again.
"No!" he let out a strangled sob shaking his head hard. "I've tried, I will! Please! Don't be mad at me! I couldn't,
"Murderer," hissed Lily. "You killed us,"
"No!"
"Murderer," they began saying again.
"STOP!" a thunderous voice shouted from behind him. Everyone froze and Harry stole a look back, tears still falling down his cheeks. A bright light blinded him, causing him to squint. "Be gone!" the voice carried authority and all the people seemed to waver. "Get out of his head, Tom." The person was feminine, Harry knew that much from the way the voice sounded but the light was still too bright for him to see the face.
With a pop, all of the people disappeared, the mist with them. He was now in darkness, even the bright light that had been behind him was gone. "Very funny." Came the voice again. "Harry, imagine some place full of light so we can see where the damned man is hiding."
A tear escaped Harry's eyes as, numbly, he imagined he was flying in the Quidditch field. Immediately the place shifted to such, the bright light had disappeared and he saw her. She was clothed in white, a dress he remembered seeing once in a magazine, long and very pretty. Her face was cover though, with a similar white clothe, the only thing showing her eyes, which were a rich brown.
"Tom, leave this boy alone."
There was a cackle and Harry whirled around, spotting a black-cloaked figure by the Forbidden Forest. "No." Red eyes flashed at Harry. He cried out, grabbing his scar. "Seems you've imagined yourself a protector."
"Protector?" gasped Harry.
Suddenly a bright light burrowed towards Voldemort and hit him straight on. A black rip in the field appeared. "Go back to your own mind, you damned snake." The girl said holding the spell as a great wind began blowing. Before Voldemort could say anything, the wind knocked him into the hole and it closed instantly. "He won't bother you any more tonight." She took a step back and started to disappear.
"Wait!"
Harry thrashed about and sat up sharply. His breathing was ragged and he was soaked in sweat. He threw the covers off and got up. He slid his glasses on and he looked around the room. Dudley was asleep, snoring, and Mr. Jacobson looked rigid and…well dead. Harry stood up, shaking. He stepped into bathroom and shut the door. He flipped on the light, the brightness hurting his eyes. He splashed water on his face and stared at his reflection. It was a dream…nothing more. He stripped his clothes and got into the shower.
Who was the girl? What did Voldemort mean by 'protector'? Was the dream subconsciously enduced or was Voldemort really playing with his mind? Who was that girl? The questions lay heavy on his mind as he tried to forget about the dream. He climbed from the shower and dried off. Usually that helps. He thought getting dressed. He shrugged and shook his head. He had to go for a walk, clear his mind.
Harry stumbled out of the room, he knew there was a lounge of some sort downstairs. He pressed the call button for the elevator and got in. He leaned against the wall letting out a deep breath after pressing the button. The doors almost closed when a hand stuck its way in.
"Hold the elevator!" an all too familiar voice called and the doors opened.
River stared at him in surprise. She was dressed in a pair of black sweats with a red tank top that had a stain in the bottom right corner. Her hair was loose and hung over her shoulders. She blinked and then stepped into the elevator, a wallet in her hand. "Harry, what…" she was still staring at him as the doors to the elevator closed. "What are you doing up?"
"Nightmare." Was his brief answer. He knew now why Dudley was spying on her, she had a wonderful shape for a girl—young woman. "You?"
She looked uneasy. "The same."
"Where were you going?"
"To get something to snack on." She said with a half smile.
He nodded as the doors opened. They stepped out and he stood with her as she bought a few munchies and two cokes. She handed him one. "Oh…thanks." He said surprised. "You didn't have to."
She shrugged. "I know but I wanted to." She shifted nervously. "Do you want to come up to my room and watch some TV, it might get our mind off of…" Her eyes looked past him for a moment, looking haunted. "Our nightmares."
Harry swallowed hard. If Dudley ever found out Harry would be dead but the idea did sound inviting. River was a very comforting person to be around. "All right but," she looked at him. "Please don't tell Dudley."
She studied him and nodded. "I won't. There's something strange about the way your family treats you, you know that?" she said walking back towards the elevator.
He chuckled. "Didn't you hear, I go to St. Brutes Institution for the Criminally Insane or whatever."
She shook her head as they stepped into the elevator. "I don't believe it."
He looked at her sharply. "What?"
"You're not a criminal, you're definitely not insane. You're a little weird at times but I don't think…I don't know. Maybe you're just waiting to murder me when I fall asleep or something." She looked a little frightened at the thought. She stole a sideways glance at her. "You're not going to right?"
He laughed. "No."
She smiled brightly. "Good," she walked towards her room and unlocked it. She ushered him in before shutting the door. "Just make yourself comfortable."
Harry walked towards the couch and spotted something on the bedside table. Her bed was a wreck, it looked as if her nightmare was as bad as his. He glanced at the thing that was out of place. It was a small painting, one that could have fit a large picture frame and it was of two people. "What's this?" he asked starting to turn it so he could get a better look.
She looked over at him sharply and then lunged at the picture. "Nothing!" she exclaimed opening the drawer and shutting it quickly.
He stared at her. He had never seen her look so flustered. "Really?"
She looked at him with a death glare. "Don't make me revoke the offer of watching TV." She threatened turning the TV on.
He took a step back. She seemed, well, dangerous when she looked at him like that, almost as if she was a completely different person. "All right, fine. What ever you say."
He sat down and she flipped channels. "I'm sorry, it's just…I don't want to talk about it."
"That's all right, I don't really want to talk." He admitted.
She smiled at him and plopped down next to him as they settled on an American show called 'The Simpsons'. The show distracted them and before long, they were both asleep once more, her head resting on his shoulder and his head resting on top of hers.