Disclaimer: I forgot to put this in before, so I put it in the title, but I don't own Harry Potter, if I did, well, I'd be rich, sadly, I am not.

Author's Notes: I am so sorry about the delay in updating, I really had planned to finish this chapter which I actually had half over before I put the story up, but I ended up in the hospital for two weeks, and I felt so bad. Thank you so much for your reviews, I'm so glad you're eager to read more. I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Midnight Dreams

Chapter Three

She twirled around, tripping over her own feet, and started to fall but a hand reached out and grabbed hers, keeping her from banging her head into the door.

She looked down at the face of the hand, and the said, "Thanks."

"Not to be rude or anything, but what are you doing here, and who are you?"

"Oh, sorry," Amara said in a hushed voice, not wanting Dudley to hear their voices and get suspicious. "My name's Amara, we just moved here across the street. Some pig head named Dudley chased me over here, and I figured hiding would be a great option."

The boy with raven black hair and startling green eyes nodded, looking at a spot above her right eye. Amara reached for it, any trace of the cover up gone on her hand. Dudley must have gotten his hand covered in it, it still not being completely dry, and it was now on his pudgy fist. She doubted he noticed, and prayed he didn't.

"Um…what's your name?" she asked after the short silence.

"Harry, Harry Potter," he replied. He pushed his taped glasses back up his nose when the almost escaped.

It was a cramped space, so Harry suggested they both sit down on his bed. Or, Amara figured it was his bed. "You live here?" she asked, no sign of shock or disgust in her voice.

"Yeah, Dudley's my cousin. Aunt Petunia is my mom's sister," he replied.

"If you don't mind me asking, what happened to your parents?"

"They died. In a car crash, I was one," he said.

"Sorry," Amara said. "I never knew my parents either." She paused stopped. "I'm adopted," she explained.

"Oh," Harry said. "Won't your…parents notice your missing from the party?"

"Probably," Amara said, worry in her voice. She tried to push down the visions of Roy's angry face flooding her mind. "But I can't go back looking like this."

Her clothes were ruined, grass and dirt on them, and her bruise now clearly visible. Her stomach turned. He seemed to understand as he nodded.

"Why didn't you come to the party?" Amara asked. Then she mentally hit herself, the boy lived in a closet. Then again, so would she, and her parents would never leave her behind. After all, it would give the appearance that they were bad parents.

"They figured I'd find a way to ruin it," Harry said.

"Why?" Amara asked.

"They said my 'freakish ways' might make it look like they weren't the best neighbors," Harry said in a mocking way. "What did you do to anger Dudley? Aunt Petunia gave him a strict talking to, about making the 'right' impression."

"I didn't listen when he went rambling on about his school, Smellings, that's a stupid name," Amara said.

Harry laughed and Amara asked why. "It's Smeltings. I'm sure I'd like to see Uncle Vernon's face if you called it that to him, it was his school, too."

She laughed as Harry went into an impression of the exact way he'd look, mocking him, too. They heard steps above them, and it was instantly silent again. They heard Dudley stomp out the door and they allowed themselves to breath again.

"Harry, do you know if your aunt has anything I can cover this up with that she wouldn't miss?" Amara asked, pointing to her bruise.

Harry nodded, "There's a bathroom upstairs with a bunch of her stuff. She doesn't use half of it."

Harry got up and opened the door and Amara followed. "Let's hope they don't come home now, they'd totally blow their coup if they saw me out and about when I'm grounded. It's strange actually, I would have sworn they'd locked the cupboard."

He went upstairs and Amara followed. She quickly found what she was looking for, luckily she hadn't had much sun yet because of the move, and the shade was about right. When she was done it was as good as invisible. She sighed and carefully put everything back they had found it, trying to ensure that there were no signs of her ever being there. She then looked herself over in the mirror, trying to get off the grass and dirt marks, pulling at her clothes and dampening them with water, then attempting to fix her hair.

"There," she said, finishing, having even cleaned up all traces of the grass and dirt. Her appearance wasn't too big a difference from what it had been before the Dudley incident, but she knew Amber would notice. Hopefully her punishment wouldn't be as severe, especially after the previous night.

"You're really good at that. The last time I saw Aunt Petunia use it, it looked as though she'd went to a fake tanning place," Harry said.

Amara shrugged casually, not really wanting to get into it. "Yes, well, I have to keep everyone from seeing what lies underneath," she said mysteriously.

They began exiting the bathroom, and Harry joked, "Oh, and what hideous creature would that be?" His smile resembled a smirk.

Amara stood up straight and then puffed out her stomach and blew air into her cheeks to make them larger then spoke in a mock voice that sounded something like a fish if it could talk, "It is I, Vernon Dursley. Harry, mow the yard. No, do not mow the yard. I do not want your freak ways ruining a perfectly good mower. Here, take these scissors, no, that's no good. You'll end up doing something horribly wrong like always boy, I don't want my Petunia's garden destroyed. Here, take this wooden spoon, and…"

Harry was laughing extremely hard, pulling on her shoulder and she broke into a grin and started laughing, too. They went down the stairs, still laughing. Harry nor Amara could ever remembering laughing with someone. Most of their memories of laughter belonged to times when they were being utterly humiliated.

When they reached the bottom they were still laughing, but eventually pulled themselves together and grinned broadly at each other. Then Amara realized she had to leave, and that Harry couldn't come as well, or she would have invited him.

"Hey I'll see you around," Amara said.

"If I ever get ungrounded and finished with my chores," Harry said.

"Same here," Amara said. "It's a date then."

Harry smiled, "Well, I should be getting back to my cupboard. And you ought to be getting back to your house."

"Yes, back to Dudley," Amara rolled her eyes. "Fantastic!" she said with great false enthusiasm.

He smiled and said bye before walking back to his closet and Amara sighed and opened the door, fear once again returning. She'd have to see him more often, she convinced herself. She realized she hadn't been afraid for the first time in…well, she couldn't remember. Maybe, she dared to hope, they could even become friends.

She had a big smile on as she crossed the street and walked up to the house. Grabbing the doorknob, the memory of her first hours in the house came back to her, and fear welled up again, her smile faded.

Reentering the party she tried to make herself as small and unnoticeable as possible. She slipped to the a corner and conversed with an odd looking woman who smelled like some sort of pet feed, which she later found out was cats with all the pictures she held of them in her wallet. She was strange, to be sure, but Amara found herself relaxed to have a conversation with someone who didn't have a hidden motive or force her to speak when she had nothing to say.

Amara looked around and spotted Dudley in new clothes, and he was conversing with Damien and Chad. That wasn't a good sign for her. The last thing she needed was a new gang to beat up on her. She knew there'd be a few kids at school, and then Damien and Chad, but the last thing she needed was three groups. A school gang, a 'brother' gang, and a neighborhood patrol all out for her. Dudley was laughing and Chad was smirking her. Damien noticed her glance and smiled slyly at her, and so she turned her attention back to the odd woman, whom she'd already forgotten the name of. In Amara's head, she was simply the 'cat lady'.

Slowly the party filtered out. Amara was not pleased when the remaining guests were only the Dursleys. It seemed that while Amber and Petunia didn't seem to be fond of each other, they were becoming friends of sorts, and they were obviously always going to be competing with each other. It was a difficult relationship at best.

Amber smiled, it looked so easy, not even forced, Amara was already beginning to dread that smile. She beckoned her over. Cautiously, Amara came.

When she was there Amber motioned for her to sit on a bar seat placed on the counter dividing the kitchen from the large living room. Oddly enough, the dining room was down the hall a little. Amara climbed up and looked at Petunia.

"I believe you owe Mrs. Dursley an apology for upsetting her son when all he wanted to do was play a harmless game of tag," said Amber with a motherly punishing voice. Amara could hear the hidden sneer and almost taste the bitter hate she was holding back. Amara couldn't fathom whatever it was that caused it all those years ago.

"Yes, Mrs. Dursley, I'm sorry. I must have misinterpreted things a little," Amara said quietly. She had no idea of what the story had been told as, but she figured that was probably a suitable thing to say.

"Just try not to be so hostile next time," Petunia said.

"Sorry," Amara replied.

"Now go upstairs to your room Amara, your father and I will be up to talk to you later," Amber said. Her smile was gone still, but the sweet, motherly tone was back.

Amara nodded. Fear returned and she made her way upstairs and turned down the hall to her right and stared out a window. She could see Harry's house from here. No, she told herself, it was the Dursley's house, Harry was just forced to live in it. Just like this was Roy's house, and she was to live in it as his human target practice.

She looked down the row of houses and spotted the immaculate yards and pompous gardens, all trying to outdo the other. Amara never dreamed there was a place like this, it was as though it were a prison of well-to-do people, leading ordinary lives, all trying, at the same time, to some outdo each other. That's life, she reminded herself.

Eventually the sky darkened and then stars appeared. As a child Amara had spent whatever time she didn't spend with Roy or unconscious she had spent at night staring at the stars. She felt so hopeful and yet so alone when she looked at them, and it was a miracle that she had not become bitter from the same wish that remained ungranted.

Amara remembered a teacher, who actually seemed to like Amara for a change, that if you were going through a really down time all you'd have to do was think of something good in your life, and good times would come from it. Of course, Amara thought it was corny and impossible, because she'd never really had any good things to wish on or picture, but she'd liked the elderly teacher anyway. Another blow to her story was she died unmarried, dreaming of having a family her entire life, and only ten people went to her funeral.

Amara had managed to sneak out the day of her teacher's showing. She had been considerably sad, and she knew she'd pay for it when she went home, but she had to see her teacher one last time. She remembered being bitter and angry as well, wondering why she'd ever trusted her, when she'd left her in the end anyway. She'd gotten a ride with some of the teachers, who weren't so fond of her, to her funeral. Not a single family member showed up.

She remembered looking down on her feet except when they had arrived at the door. She had looked at the little black sign with the removable white letters, to prove that it was real. She remembered reading Melissa Daniels, Showing. It wasn't until that moment did it really seem real to her. That she could accept the fact that the woman she'd known for three short weeks, the person who gave her candy, the only person who spoke kindly to her, had died. She felt tears surface, but pushed her emotions down deep inside, and rubbed her eyes, trying to appear as if the sun were in her eye.

Amara wasn't sure how comfortable she was with the open coffin. Fear came to her, a fear unlike any she had experience before. A horrible shocking fear that would have made Roy proud to inspire. The woman was dead. And something about that scared Amara, she was gone, forever, taken away. She had spoke to this woman a few days ago, alive, happy. Now everything was gone, ruined, in an instant, and she had to look at the body. The body of someone who she had actually liked. She'd see her cold, lifeless features, her stiff body, her formal clothing, her closed eyes, her pale white skin. Amara felt herself instinctively back towards the door, her instincts about ready to make her bolt.

She turned, and gave a sharp yelp as she ran into a tall serious looking man. Amara didn't recognize him. She covered her mouth with her hand and a slap that stung a bit as the her teachers glared. The man smiled at her, it wasn't really happy smile though, but a serious, formal one.

"Hello, I'm Mr. Smith, I work here. Did you want to see Ms. Daniels?" he asked her politely, though a little slow as though talking to a toddler, or other small child.

The nine year old girl shook her head quickly, and her eyes darted around him to the exit. "Are you afraid?"

Amara looked up into his eyes, she wouldn't admit her fear, but he smiled again, and she was too afraid to say anything. "I understand, death can be frightening. It's natural though, and I believe Ms. Daniels would have liked to have a goodbye, don't you?"

Afraid and hopeless, knowing what would come soon, she shrugged. She moved as though to walk around him, but he grabbed her lightly by her shoulder, and led her down the aisle past all the empty seats that should have held Ms. Daniels family, her husband, her children. But she had no one, Amara thought bitterly, cursing life itself. No one.

Reaching the coffin a she felt as though someone had thrown her body into ice water, and her very core was an icicle molded from the hands of Winter himself. She tensed, and the man smiled down at her, but she was too afraid to acknowledge it, staring at the coffin in horror.

She can't be dead! She can't! I can't see her body! It's wrong! She's dead! The thoughts frantically shouted at her. She had no choice but to ignore them as she was led to the coffin. She then realized that she had her eyes shut the last of the way, and that they had stopped.

"It's not so bad," the man's voice said as though proving a point. He must not have realized she had her eyes shut, she realized.

Slowly she opened an eye. She gasped, and her eyes both opened. There was no doubt about it, Ms. Daniels was dead. Her body didn't move, a breath didn't escape her lips, her chest didn't rise, her skin was pale, but that was not what surprised Amara. After all, she knew that was what she would see. What surprised her was that she didn't look like a solemn soldier, mouth and eyes shut and set, just as she thought she would. Her mouth…it was curved in a natural smile. She had died smiling.

How? Amara thought. They wouldn't have changed her, would they? No. But, why, why would she have died with a smile on her face when she had never got what she had wanted out of life? Why?

To that day Amara still pondered what had made her smile, what secret Ms. Daniels seemed to have, that had allowed her to die a happy woman, when all her dreams had never come true. That's why Amara still remembered those words, even though Ms. Daniels had only been in a small portion of her life. The woman had some secret knowledge that must have been wise, for despite everything, she had died…content.

Steps on the stairs forced Amara out of her day dream. She realized the night had gotten a good deal darker, and that morning would only a few hours away. Amara felt her heart race and all she wanted to do was use up the adrenalin pumping through her veins by running far and fast, but she had no escape, and if she had, she had no where to turn to.

Amara could easily make out the shapes of her 'parents' in the darkness, her eyes already adjusted to the darkness. Amara could even distinguish the look of absolute revulsion and fury coming from both of them. Though, truth be told, that wasn't her eyes having adjusted to the darkness, but years of practice that allowed her to see that. Even in absolute darkness, she would still be able to see their eyes glowing like that.

Amara didn't see, however, Chad and Damien behind them. Confusion welled up in her. Chad and Damien had beat her on numerous occasion, sometimes (though rarely) as bad as their father, but they'd never been allowed to join in with him. Roy nor Amber would allow that. They weren't supposed to see the horrid violence that poured onto Amara almost nightly. They were just allowed to see the result. Her body trembled in fear, and instantly reacted, by taking several fearful steps backwards.

"Where do you think you're going?" Amber's voice stressed and slightly high and loud demanded.

Amara didn't know if Amber really wanted her to reply to that. She opened her mouth once, knowing there was no excuse (for there never was, no matter how true or faultless she was about it), and finding no words able to escape her mouth, and therefore quickly shut it.

"You do not walk away we are talking to you, you stupid piece of crap, what do you think you're doing?" Roy asked.

It wasn't until that point that Amara realized her few steps backwards had continued without her realization. She forced herself to stop. She could just make out Chad smirking from behind his oh-so-loving-parent. Suddenly Roy charged at her and she released a scream. She was on the floor with Roy on top of her, and she didn't even realize she was still screaming in horror of all four of them beating her after the previous night until Roy had put a hand over her mouth.

"You know what you did, you deserve punishment," he said calmly. Too calmly, Amara didn't like that one bit. His hand was muffling her screams. If only someone could hear, she thought.

"Boys go to your rooms, now," Amber said sternly and they grudgingly walked to their rooms, promising to finish what she started tomorrow.

Roy then easily (though roughly) threw Amara over his shoulder and took her struggling body downstairs. Amara was struck with horror as he opened the door to the basement. The basement was only used for serious punishment, because no one would hear Amara scream for her life.

"Please, please, no, don't!" Amara pleaded.

Roy roughly slapped her back and told her to keep her mouth shut unless spoken to. She bit her lip, a little too hard and blood droplets formed. Amara could hear Amber's footsteps behind her on the steps.

When they reached the basement she was thrown onto the cold pavement, she felt her back protest as her wounds threatened to reopen. Amber and Roy began to both kick her. They held nothing back – kicking as though their very lives depended on it. Amara whimpered but managed not to cry out as the wounds on her stomach and back ripped open and bled.

Roy picked her up and slammed her body against the wall repeatedly until she heard a sickening crack. Blood flowed profusely and matted her hair to her head. She would have screamed or cried out but there was no air in her lungs, she couldn't breathe.

She knew they were both screaming obscenities at her, that they had been since she was thrown to the floor, but it was like they were a world away, she couldn't hear anything but her irregular heart beat and her raspy desperate attempts at breathing. She felt her lungs try to fill with air, and she felt the pain when they couldn't. Tears flowed from her eyes.

This is it, I'm dying. Roy picked her up and began to beat her with anything he could find, but she wasn't there, she barely even felt it, it was as though she were being swept away by a cold wind.

All you have to do was think of something good in your life, and good times would come from it, a voice reminded her in her head. Her oxygen deprived brain couldn't focus, horrible thoughts and memories flashed before her mind, unable to grasp onto anything. Then all of a sudden bright green eyes appeared. Harry.