Chapter Four – The Nightmare

It was night and the air before him, was thick with smoke, or was it fog as Harry walked across the long, hard, cold ground that seemed to be covered with low grasses and heather. Moor land. The fog was getting thicker as the darkness set in, as Harry could hear footsteps and voices of a small group of people in front of him. The voice were muffled, he couldn't make out who they were, but knew that there were two males and the two females, sounded as though they weren't much older then he was, late teens, early to mid twenties and extremely panicky.

"Are you sure this is safe, Potter?" one of the youths asked, sounding as though he'd rather be anywhere else except in the thick fog, his voice still muffled. Harry stopped, it was the mention of his surname, which got his complete attention, as he continued to move forward. A girl answered, sounding almost angry.

"Look, nowhere is safe in this world, not with Voldamort still hanging about!"

Harry's heart leapt at hearing Voldamort's name and moved forwards now quickly, but not before breaking a large twig under one of his feet. There was a cry from the small group of people he had been listening to. The same girl he had heard before was still speaking.

"What was that?" There was silence, before Harry saw directly in front of him, a pair of yellow eyes, similar to a hawk, penetrate the fog, straight at him. He stared at them, for a moment, before they moved extremely fast.

"It's him. Move! Run! I'll head him off." The same girl informed the small group was Harry began running forward at full speed toward them. They scattered, in all directions, and it was at this point that Harry realised he wasn't alone. There were men in cloak and masks all around him, closing in on the group. Harry felt the thrill of the chase, he knew that he'd catch this little gang, and find out who they were. Before knew it, he and the other masked men, were firing green light in all directions, which Harry realised instantly as the death curse. He could stop himself as he saw a dark, tall figure come running towards him, a girl, with long, dark red hair, bright yellow eyes, and a look of pure death on her face. Harry reconised her instantly, as he cousin, and tried to stop himself was he raised his wand to say the death curve, which sprang out of his wand, straight towards her.

She moved, dodging the curse, by inches, by spinning through the air and landing flat on her front. Harry's jaw dropped, he had never seen anyone move like that before, fast, graceful, and dangerous. But before Harry could do or say anything, she was on her feet and had, with speed, Harry didn't even see, he was flat on his back, his wand knocked out of his hand.

She was standing over him, taking her own wand out from under her robes, pointing it straight at him.

"Potter!" Harry hissed in a voice that wasn't his own, feeling the intense cold of the ground. Her yellow eyes narrowed, fiercely, with a look of complete loathing, as she whispered, something under her breath and Harry could barely make out.

"Voldamort!" Harry gulped, as an intense fear come over him, like nothing he had ever felt and as the pain that can seared across his scar, which was unbearable, a enormous flash of green light, woke his up very abruptly.

He was lying face down on the bed, a cold sweat and it was only he realised when his mouth was dry, and was breathing heavily, that he had woken up screaming. His head was face down in the pillar and lit out, another high pitched scream, something Harry didn't even know he had in him, when someone had opened the hangings on the bed and had touched his shoulder. Harry whirled round so fast, that he sent the poor person flying, and was on the verge of running out of dormitory, to anywhere, in shear panic, when it felt three people pull him back to the bed.

"Harry! Harry!" Someone was calling him name, but everything was a complete blur, he needed to get out of there. He also felt some of the control of his new powers, slip slight, as he heard the door slam, and several items fly across the room. A few people screamed.

"Harry! Please, get control!" They said again with a bit more urgency, but now they were shaking him, rather violently, this was bringing him back to his senses. He stopped at stared at the person, and realised just how bad his eyesight really was.

"What?" Harry, breathed, panting heavily, "I can't see you to well, and what day is it!"

"Saturday and no problem!" Harry heard a familiar voice say, when they let go of him and placed his glasses into his hand. Harry put them on.

"Ron!" He said, staring at his red head, highly freckled, friend, looking back at him with a large bruise on his forehead and a grin on his face.

"You alight?" he said, still grinning. Harry frowned, what was funny "Man, you've got one was hell of a punch on you. I somehow don't think you meant to hit me!" Ron pointed to his forehead, and Harry put a hand over his mouth, and shock his head. Ron was still grinning.

"What's funny?" Harry asked, still looking at Ron.

"Your are!" Ron laughed, "I didn't realise your eyesight was that bad."

Harry smiled, he knew why Ron had said that, to cheer him after one of his prescient dreams, and never had he had a reaction this bad to one before. Harry wasn't sure his nerves could handle much more of this. Ron was looking at him as though he thought that Harry was going to pass out again. Harry reassured him.

"I'm fine." He said, his voice sounding dry, "just badly shaken!"

"What did you see?" a timid voice over his shoulder sounded, and it was at this point did Harry realise that the dormitory was full of Gryffindor students, all staring at him. He looked back at Ron, still shaking, and admitted to him, something he had up to now, never realised, that he at the moment, couldn't handle. His fame.

"I can't do this on my own!" he spoke in a tired, low voice so only Ron would hear, and gave him a piercing stare, so that he would understand. After a frown, Ron understood, and within minutes, had cleared the room of Gryffindors, so that only he and Harry were left.

"Man, what is happening to you?" Ron spoke the one thing Harry had been wondering for months, and he told him so.

"I don't know, and I don't think I can take much more of it!" Harry admitted. Ron looked in horror at him.

"Your not..."

"Dying!" Harry cut across him, "No, I'm not, but it feels at though I am sometimes!"

"What happened?" Ron, asked him. Harry knew he was talking about the dream, and decided to tell him everything while he got dressed. Ron sat in silence to let him talk and said nothing, when Harry had finished when a knock on the door, made them both jump. Harry looked at Ron, and he answered it. It was obvious that he had sent Herimone to the Great Hall for some food for Harry, and she come in to join them. Harry was greatful, and thanked her, and decided to let Ron do most of the talking as he was dying to tell her what Harry had seen, in his dream.