Chapter 3: Dreams and Laughter

Harry Potter, for the tenth time that morning, considered repeatedly pounding his head against something. Or hitting something. It was actually more than ten times he had considered either option, but he had lost track. As it were, he had technically already done the latter.

Having been woken up by Peeves the Poltergeist at two o'clock in the morning, Harry had a hard time falling back asleep, mostly because of his queasily jumping stomach, partly the fault of the driving rain and thunder. In an attempt to take his thoughts away from his sore abdomen and the list named "100 Reasons Why Cho Chang Is China" that was forming in his mind. He did not want to think about that at two o'clock in the morning, on a gloomy night, feeling awful enough.

At some point, he had fallen asleep again, possibly around four or five in the morning. Waking up again in a few hours was not high on the list of things that would please him, but his stomach was no longer just jumping around but now trying to leap out his throat. He had been sent scurrying to the toilet before Ron could even ask him what was wrong, effectively tripping and ramming his knee into the porcelain bowl. But he did not care much for the throbbing pain in his knee (that by breakfast had started to bruise) for he was heaving the contents of his stomach into the toilet.

So, understandably, by his view any way (he had lied to Ron and later Hermione about his health), he did not want breakfast. He did not want to go to Care of Magical Creatures later (even though he could talk with Hagrid then). And he most definitely did not want to be sitting in Divination.

But there he was, sitting at a table with Ron, in the stifling hot room of incense, perfumes, and God Only Knows What Else he was forced to call the Divination classroom. Once again, he considered hitting his head on the book until he had a concussion--then he might get out of class--or throwing it at someone. Professor Trelawney was high on his list of targets.

"I had a dream that I was playing Quidditch," Ron admitted sullenly, flipping through the pages of his book. "What do you think that means?"

"That you will be chased by rabid squirrels until you die from exhaustion, and then they will eat your corpse before rigor mortis sets in," Harry replied morbidly, feeling annoyed for some reason. Possibly because of his sore knee or sore throat (after puking the remains of dinner and desert, he proceeded to toss up the rest of his stomach--the bile, which had burned his throat raw). Though most likely his annoyance was caused by the assignment they were given: interpret their dreams.

Besides not being able to concentrate for long periods of time--the heavily perfumed and incense-laden air did that to him--he didn't have dreams to interpret. Or, at least, dreams he could remember. But did that exclude him from the assignment? Nope.

Ron made a face at the description of his untimely demise but was also forced to shove his fist in his mouth to deadened his sniggering. "So what's your future?" he asked in an sarcastic whisper.

Once again the urge to bang his head against the table repeated itself. "'I will die from blood loss because my nose will erupt into a nosebleed after being attacked by a thousand beautiful, scantily-clad women,'" he quoted dutifully and quietly from the (rather raunchy) voice in his head.

They had been let out of Divination early because Ron had burst out laughing at Harry's response (who had turned quite red after realizing what he had said) and wouldn't stop laughing. Not even a calming charm worked on him because he would remember and burst out laughing again. Of course, Trelawney had told them to keep 'dream journals' for homework.

"Ron, that's quite enough," said Harry, still embarrassed and still crimson, as they headed down to Transfiguration. After realizing what he had said in class (thankfully not loudly, so only Ron had heard) he had decided that it might have been better to admit to his poor memory instead. A worried Ron was easier to deal with than Ron laughing his head off.

"But--" Ron managed to choke out before bursting into peals of laughter again. Somehow, Harry grew even more red.

"What's so funny?" Hermione asked when she had shown up outside the Transfiguration classroom. The bell had rung, and they had been waiting for Hermione to arrive. Really, Harry had been waiting for her to come and do something about Ron.

Ron tried to explain (much to Harry's embarrassment) but fortunately he couldn't without laughing. Hermione just stared between the chortling Ron and the very red Harry and came to the conclusion that this was one thing that she didn't want to know. She did, however, help calm Ron down when she suggested that she and Harry cast a calming charm at the same time. It worked that time, though Hermione did threaten to curse him if he started laughing again when he almost started again.

"I don't know what happened, nor do want to," Hermione stated as they took their customary seats in the back of the classroom, "So don't even bother explaining."

"Wasn't planning to," Harry admitted sullenly, hoping that his face was returning to a normal shade.

Transfiguration was hard. It always was, but it was especially hard that day because they had O.W.L.s coming up and McGonagall seemed determined to not only teach them new information (transfiguring objects out of thin air and making them vanishing) but also review old information. She had given her speech, glared at Seamus when he burst out angrily, and set them to work. They were tired and their arms sore when they reached the great hall.

"I don't think McGonagall has ever worked us that hard," moaned Ron as he piled food onto his plate.

Harry nodded in agreement.

Hermione, on the other hand, said, "She just wants to make sure that we're prepared for the O.W.L.s."

Ron snorted. "If we don't die from exhaustion first." He then started shaking with laughter when he remembered Harry's first "prediction".

"Ron…" Hermione said, low and dangerous. Then she blinked. "Harry, you're eating."

Harry nodded but didn't speak for the food in his mouth. He swallowed. "I'm hungry."

Hermione and Ron rolled their eyes. They finished eating and headed off to Care of Magical Creatures. It was still raining, though not as hard, so the class took turns collecting dry firewood as salamanders skirted in and out of the flames. (Well, the Gryffindors took turns; the Slytherins wouldn't move away from the fire.) Hagrid showed them a Crup, a creature that looked mostly like a terrier if not for the forked tail, and would have let it loose if he hadn't been convinced that they were perfectly fine observing it on its chain.

"Are yeh feeling alright, Harry?" asked Hagrid after class and in his hut. "Yer face is a bit pink."

Harry turned magenta and hid behind his cup of tea. Ron started snickering but shut up when Hermione glared and pulled out her wand. Harry had to give her a hand; it was hard to look threatening while twirling a wand like a baton but she pulled it off.

"I'm fine, Hagrid," said Harry, wishing that he would at some time return to his normal color. Not likely, as the voice (which Harry was starting to notice more and more lately) was still laughing maniacally.

Hagrid looked at him skeptically.

"Really, I'm fine. So how was your summer?"

Something had happened alright. Hagrid was pretending deafness and changing the subject, but Harry suspected that his summer involved giants, Madame Maxime, and a promise of secrecy. He exchanged looks with Ron and Hermione, who seemed to suspect the same thing. On another occasion, they might have pushed the information out of him but right now they were glad to see him alive so they accepted his false deafness and the new subject.

When Harry, Ron, and Hermione left to get the last of dinner Harry didn't feel as annoyed as he did that morning. Till he remembered the assignment that is.

Short chapter, crappy chapter, but I needed something to post to prove that I was alive and still writing this story. The next chapter should be more interesting but no promises.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. JKR does.