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Chapter 5

After her talk with the headmaster, Hermione was feeling a thousand times better. She wasn't cursed, and the dream woman was not a figment of her imagination. And on top of all that, she now had a starting point for solving this mystery with the room and the book. Her plans for this break were looking brighter already, and she couldn't wait until she got to the library to start her research.

She was already starting to turn down the hall in the direction of the library when she remembered that her friends were waiting for her, probably still on edge from this morning. She wouldn't be surprised if they were pulling out their hair in worry by now. Sighing, the witch turned around and made her way towards the Great Hall where she knew Ron would've dragged Harry and Ginny after the 'exhausting' amount of work he had done in the gardens.

The Great Hall was practically empty by the time Hermione got there. There were only a few breakfast stranglers still lingering about, so the Hall was unusually quiet. Only the odd click of silverware and quiet mummers could be heard. Most of the food had already disappeared as well. What was left were small items that could easily be taken on the go, like bagels, muffins, and fruit.

She checked the time. 11:15, no wonder no one's here anymore. Everyone's probably down at the Hogwarts Express by now.

"Hermione!" Ron called, waving his hand in the air to catch her attention. His other hand, preoccupied with a blueberry muffin, brought the bakery item up to his mouth for another bite.

Hermione rolled her eyes, quickly making her way over to the nearly empty Gryffindor table, and took a seat by Harry and Neville. Just as she suspected, her three friends were practically vibrating in their seats, waiting for her arrival.

"Hi, Hermione, ready for break?" Neville asked from behind the morning's Daily Prophet.

"Yes, I'm staying here, actually, to catch up on my work," Hermione said as she grabbed a piece of toast and buttered it. Ginny, sitting across from her, caught her eye and impatiently motioned towards her covered hand in a silent question.

Harry and Ron turned to Hermione as well, watching her expectantly. Harry especially looked like he was about to explode, waiting to hear about what Dumbledore had said.

Looking around the Hall at the few students who were still hanging around, Hermione shook her head, mouthing to them, later. Just because the students that were around seemed like they were preoccupied in their own conversations didn't mean that they wouldn't overhear something she said. Besides, Neville was right there next to them and would hear anything they said. And as much as she trusted the awkward young wizard, she wasn't sure if she wanted anyone else to know what was going on with her.

Harry, not looking too pleased but resigned to wait, nodded at her in understanding. Ron and Ginny grimaced before turning back to their plates.

Beside her, Neville gave a weak laugh. "Hermione, what kind of work do you need to catch up on?"

Hermione grinned around her toast. "Oh, you know, just some extra credit assignments that I'm doing in preparation for my NEWTS."

"Always doing extra work," Neville said good-naturedly, while folding his paper up.

Catching something in the headlines, Hermione stopped him by grabbing his sleeve. Pointing to the front of the paper, she asked, "What is it saying about the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement?"

The mood at the table turned somber. With a disheartened sigh, Neville slowly opened his paper again and placed it in front of Hermione to read. "Susan's Aunt and Uncle were attacked last night by…"Neville looked around the room before lowering his voice in a secretive whisper, "Death Eaters."

"Oh, no…" Hermione clenched at the paper, her eyes flying over the article taking it in.

War on the Department of Magical Law Enforcement?

Highly respected Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and member of the Wizengamot, Amelia Bones, was attacked last night around one in the morning by three assailants while she and her husband (Richard Bones) were staying at a local wizarding hotel in Limerick, Ireland. The attackers forcibly entered their suite, barely giving the Head of Law Enforcement enough time to summon help.

Aurors appeared at their rooms shortly after but not before the attackers were able to flee the scene. Mr. and Mrs. Bones were immediately flooed to St. Mungos for care, where Mrs. Bones is still being held in critical condition. Mr. Bones unfortunately died within ten minutes of his stay.

Though the identity of the dark wizards were hidden thanks to their hooded robes, a Dark Mark was left above the hotel, leaving very little doubt to this reporter that the attack was the responsibility of You-Know-Who's Death Eaters.

So what could this mean for other Ministry officials or members of the Wizengamot? Will You-Know-Who begin attacking other important figureheads within the Ministry?

For more on the Bones attack and other Ministry disappearances, turn to page 8.

Hermione closed the paper carefully, handing it back to Neville. "Poor Susan…"

"I know," Ginny agreed pushing her plate away, no longer hungry. "First You-Know-Who kills nearly her entire family, including her parents, in the first war, and now he's trying to take the only family she has left."

Hermione turned to Neville. "Do you know how she's holding up?"

"Not good, I'm afraid."

Ron threw down the rest of his muffin. "Well, can you blame her? All she's got left now is her aunt and her cousin. And they're not even sure if her aunt's going to make it."

"I wonder if she already left for break," Ginny said. "You know, to see her aunt."

Neville tossed the newspaper aside. "A couple of Ministry officials arrived around five, to pick her up and take her to see her aunt."

Harry, surprised, looked to Neville. "How do you know that?"

Neville shrugged sheepishly. He fidgeted with his shirt. "Well, you know, she's really close with Hannah Abott and I heard about it when I was talking to Hannah this morning." A blush crept onto Neville's cheeks, signaling that more might have occurred between him and the quiet Hufflepuff than just a friendly conversation.

Hermione shared a knowing smile with Ginny, before standing up to leave. "Come on guys, you have to get to the train, before it leaves. You only have," she looked at her wristwatch, "twenty minutes before it leaves."

Harry, Ginny and Ron stood up to follow her, gathering their bags.

"It's no sweat, Hermione," Ron reassured her, "we already brought our bags down earlier this morning."

"Wow, I'm impressed. You're actually prepared," Hermione teased, playfully hitting him on the shoulder. She turned back to Neville, who was getting ready to leave as well. "Are you coming, Neville?"

"In a minute. I need to stop by Professor Sprout's office before I leave."

"Well, I'll see you later, and if you hear from Susan, let her know that we're here for her if she needs anything," Hermione said with a gentle smile. Neville gave a grateful nod.

The five Gryffindor students parted ways once they left the Great Hall, Neville heading towards the Herbology classroom and Hermione, Ron, Ginny and Harry heading towards the train.

Walking down to the platform, the four friends stopped a few feet away from the train and the students that were waiting around in front of it. Harry grabbed Hermione's arm, whispering a quick muffliato around them to keep the nosier students out of their conversation.

"Alright, Hermione, we've waited patiently enough. What's going on and what did Dumbledore say?" Harry asked, still hanging onto the witch's arm.

"It can't be bad, right? I mean, otherwise you wouldn't be so calm about everything, or keeping us on pins and needles," Ginny added, her arms crossed. Ron, who must have come to the same conclusion, stood by his friend, staying surprisingly quiet.

Hermione gently removed Harry's hand. "It's Professor Dumbledore, Harry."

"Hermione! Come on!" Harry growled, exasperated. He was growing grey hairs from worrying and couldn't care less about proper titles at the moment.

"It's alright! Calm down Harry. I promise you I'm not in any danger." She answered him. "I'm not cursed, or hexed or anything like that."

Her friends gave a collective sigh of relief, and Harry gave her an apologetic smile.

"Good, that's good," he said.

"So, did he say what the tattoo could mean then?" Ginny asked.

Hermione shook her head no. "He didn't, but he did suggest that it could probably help."

Ron looked confused. "Help? What's it supposed to be helping with?"

Hermione bit her lip. "I think he was trying to tell me that it could help with the war. You know, help Harry against Voldemort." She explained, ignoring Ron who cringed at the dark wizard's name.

"Are you serious?" Harry said with a wide smile, obviously happy that they might finally have a lead on how he was supposed to defeat the most feared wizard of their time.

Ginny, however, looked skeptical. "How is a tattoo supposed to help against You-Know-Who?"

Hermione just shrugged. She hadn't figured it out either, but she would. "I don't know," she admitted. "But Professor Dumbledore gave me a lead and I'll be looking for the answers in the library over the break."

"Do you need help? We can stay," Harry asked, more than ready to give up his break if it meant getting closer to ending this war.

Ron, who looked less enthusiastic at the prospect of spending his break surrounded by books, nevertheless agreed as well.

"Not at the moment, but I might have to look through the Black's library as well. Is that okay, Harry?" Hermione replied, her mind already formulating a research plan for the week.

"Of course, just let me know," Harry quickly agreed.

In the distance the whistle for the train blew signaling that it was time to leave. Harry dropped the silencing charm around them, and the four of them rushed to the train with the other students.

Harry pulled Hermione into a hug, whispering in her ear. "Just make sure you contact me, if anything goes wrong or if you need me. You don't need to do this alone."

"I will," Hermione swore before stepping back and giving both Ron and Ginny a hug as well.

"I'm going to hold you to your promise, Hermione," Harry warned seriously.

"Yes, yes. I heard you the first time. I'll write you the first chance I get. Now go get on the train before it leaves without you," Hermione said, shooing them away.

Hermione stood off to the sides, with the few students who were staying at Hogwarts over the break, watching her friends as they got in line to board the train.

"Watch it, Granger!" a voice snapped behind her, barely giving her enough time to move out of the way as a body pushed past her, bumping into her shoulder. Draco turned around, sending a nasty sneer her way before heading towards the crowd in front of the train.

"Hey!" she cried, rubbing her shoulder, glaring at the blonde Slytherin, as he used his two block-headed body guards to shove his way to the front of the line and onto the train.

"What an arse," Hermione muttered, turning around and starting the trek back to Hogwarts by herself.

Draco was staring out of the window, tired and stressed, when his stalkers (as he liked to refer to them as) came sauntering into his compartment. Crabbe and Goyle took their regular spots across from him, their laps already littered with junk food from the trolley. Pansy, for once, wasn't close on their heels and vying to claim the seat beside him. Though Draco doubted if she ever would want to sit with him again after their argument. Actually to call it an argument would be a stretch. It had been more like him throwing insult after insult at her in hopes of finally shaking the girl off of him.

By the end of it, he had been the picture of Pureblood arrogance and she…she had been tear-stained and heartbroken. And that tore at him worse than any punishment his father had ever dished out on him. She had grown up with him, had been his confidant, one of the few people in Slytherin house that he knew he could trust, and he had hurt their friendship beyond repair. He had ruined everything, shattered it all to pieces, and now he couldn't get the image of her eyes, puffy and haunted, out of his mind.

His one consolation was that now she would be safe. The Parkinsons had been smart. When Voldemort had first risen, they had kept to the sidelines, their heads down. They passed along money and collected information from the Ministry for Voldemort like good little Purebloods but kept themselves away from the Dark Mark and off the Dark Lord's radar. Whether that was to keep their noses clean or because they didn't really support the twisted wizard's vision, Draco didn't know. His money was on the latter, though. Pansy had always been different. Haughty and ambitious like any Pureblood but…somehow lighter than the other girls.

And I'm going to make sure it stays that way, he promised himself. He would protect her even from himself, because it was only a matter of time before his father decided that she was the perfect "incentive" to make him take the Dark Mark. And then she would die. Even if he followed his father's orders to a T, he would kill her anyway, because she was a perceived weakness. And he wouldn't allow his son to have a weakness.

Images of Pansy's broken, lifeless body flashed through his mind, causing him to grit his teeth.

No! He squeezed his eyes shut against the sudden mental image. He would keep her at arms length and make sure his father knew that she meant nothing to him. His heart twisted at the thought, but he ignored it. He had to.

For now, he had another dilemma to fix. Since Pansy was out of the picture he couldn't very well spend the break at her house, and he sure as fuck wasn't spending it at his place. His father would be there. Draco's fist clenched crinkling the letter his mother had sent him that morning in his hand. He straightened it out, reading it for the fifth time that day.

Draco,

How are you my dear? I trust that you are doing well in school. Your father and I will send a house elf to retrieve you from the train station. You'll be glad to hear that your father has taken the week off as well and wishes to make a proper vacation of it. Please inform me if you've made other plans. You know I am not overly fond of surprises.

All my love,

Your mother

It was short and to the point and to the casual observer it would seem like any other ordinary letter from a mother to a son. Draco knew better. In between the lines he could make out the true message. His father would be around and he was sure to make son's life a living hell if he didn't find another place to stay.

So he had approximately─he checked his pocket watch─three hours to make plans to go out of the country. It didn't even cross Draco's mind to try and bear his father's company for the week and hope for the best. He wasn't a brainless Gryffindor, for Merlin's sake, willing to 'tough it out' for the good of his family. All the while praying that his father would have an epiphany and suddenly realize the error of his ways. He snorted, yeah like that will happen.

No, he wasn't an idiot or a masochist, so if he could avoid it, he would.

Besides the minute he had read the letter, he had sent an immediate owl to his mother that morning telling her that, no, he would unfortunately not be around because of prior plans. Now he just had to go out and make said plans.

Crabbe and Goyle were out. They might be dedicated guard dogs, but Draco knew the people holding their leashes were their fathers and not him. If he went over to any of their places, even those outside the country, their fathers, and by extension his father, who had them under his thumb, wouldn't be far behind. In fact it would probably be for the best if he chose someone who wasn't in a family of Death Eaters, which took out half of Slytherin house already.

Draco got up from his seat, waving off Crabbe and Goyle, who attempted to follow him, and strolled down the narrow aisle to peek into the other compartments. As he passed by his fellow Slytherins he was mentally crossing off names and quickly getting frustrated.

No, her uncle is a Death Eater and owes father too many favors. He won't do either. His father is friends with my father. Oh, she might work─wait, damn! I broke up with her a month ago, and she's still pretty miffed. The Bolson's boy might work…except their manor's too close to Aunt Bella's. Merlin's balls! Is there no one available?

Just as Draco was about to give up and do something drastic, like buy a cottage in a Muggle village─he shuddered at the thought─he caught the tail end of conversation within one of the compartments. He backed away from the door so neither occupant could see him.

"I'm rather disappointed myself," Blaise Zabini said, leaning back into his seat casually. "I was hoping to get out of the country, probably go to Paris for a bit, but my mother is off in Australia and wasn't ecstatic about me traveling alone."

Across from him, Ignis Cornfoot, another sixth year Slytherin, was nodding along. "Hmm, I'm sure I can convince my parents to let us use their vacation house in Orleans. We'll get a couple other people and then you can tell your mother that you'll be traveling with a group. I might even be able to persuade my brother, Fortissimus, to accompany us. That way you can even tell her we'll have an adult with us and all that."

"That might work. I'll send off a letter to her when I get home. How many people are you thinking off?" Blaise asked.

Ignis paused to think about it. "The house is one of our smaller ones, only seven bedrooms, so four other people should be fine. I was talking to the Carrow twins earlier, and they had no plans."

Draco smiled to himself, inwardly shouting in triumph. What luck! Not only were the Zabinis and Cornfoots unaffiliated with the Dark Lord but Orleans was just far enough away to keep his father at bay. It was the perfect solution. It also didn't hurt that Draco counted Blaise as one of his few real friends in the school.

Sure, there were a few supporters in the Cornfoot family, and the Carrow twins were the cousins of the Death Eaters Alecto and Amycus Carrow, but he could deal with that. Hestia and Flora were thankfully nothing like their sick relatives.

Straightening himself, Draco pulled out a candy bar as he walked by the compartment, making just enough noise to catch the boys' attention without seeming like he had been eavesdropping.

Blaise saw him first and nudged Ignis with his elbow while whispering "How about it?" At Ignis' approving nod, he called out to the blonde wizard before he could get away. "Draco! Can you spare a minute?"

Draco waited two seconds to make sure he didn't seem too eager then stepped back towards the compartment. He took a bite out of his bar, and put on a face of calm curiosity. "What's up?" he asked, taking a seat.

"What are you doing for break?" Ignis asked.

If it weren't so undignified, Draco would have given into temptation and danced with glee. He was going to get away!

Keeping his voice level, he shrugged and answered, "Don't know yet. I didn't really make any plans, so I'll probably just hang around the manor. Why?"

Blaise leaned forward slightly. "Ignis has a place in Orleans. We were thinking about staying there for the week so we could travel back and forth to Paris. Do you want to come?"

Draco hesitated long enough to seem as if he needed to think it over. "Who's coming?" he asked as if it really mattered to him. They could bring along a horde of goblins, and he still wouldn't give two shits.

"We're going to ask the Carrow sisters and probably Castor Fawley. I heard his parents decided to go to Germany last minute." This came from Ignis.

"Well, alright then, what time are we leaving?"

"How's eight o'clock? We'll meet at my place, since Blaise's mother is away. Sound good?"

Eight o'clock, so I'll have six hours to kill before I can show up at Cornfoot's place. Hmm…maybe I'll rent a room at the Leaky Cauldron and stay low.

Draco got up to leave. "Alright then, I'll see you guys then. I'm going to see if the trolley is still out." He waved goodbye to them and headed back to his compartment, no longer able to hide his smirk. His plan had worked, and he could now successfully avoid his father. He walked down the cramped aisle with an extra swagger in his step. Damn, I'm good!

On the other side of the train, pressed into a corner, Harry Potter was doing his very best to wake up. Trapped in his own personal hell, he didn't respond to the hand shaking his shoulder or the soft pleas of "Harry, wake up!" Instead, he tossed and turned as he was forced to watch the events of his dream play out.

He was in a dark room, the sounds and images distorted as if he were underwater. He could make out enough details to see a small man hunched over in a chair towards the very center of the room. The man's once sophisticated tweed suit was now in tatters and stained with blood. Ropes bound his legs and arms to the chair so tightly that the man struggled to breathe. His fingers and toes were already turning a painful blue as the blood fought to get to the abandoned digits. His head, battered and bloodied like the rest of his body, hung in defeat.

Off to the side of the room, was another man dressed in a black suit, with his sleeves rolled up to the elbows, exposing tan arms caked with dried blood. Harry could not see the Dark Mark on his left arm─covered as it was with blood─but the sadistic glint in his eye was enough to tell him that the second man was definitely a Death Eater.

The unnamed Death Eater slowly approached his victim, a strange medieval metal contraption in his hand. Gently as if he were caressing a lover's cheek, the Death Eater ran the device across the small man's face, causing him to squeak in terror. The deatheater smiled at the sound.

"Tsk, tsk, Addleby, you're not giving me the answers that I want to hear. How very naughty of you," he crooned with a twisted smile. "That's okay, I'm very fair, you know, so I'll give you one last chance to answer me, now─"

He was cut off as the door to the room creaked open. "How issss our guesst Deimosss?" Voldemort hissed in a faint whisper as he swept into the room. One clawed nail lifted their prisoner's chin. A whimper escaped the frightened man as he looked upon the face of the most dangerous dark wizard in the world through his one good eye.

Satisfied with what he saw, Voldemort let his face drop again before turning to his follower. "Leave us. I wish to speak to Addleby alone."

The Death Eater looked like he wanted to protest for a second, but thought better of it, bowed to his master and left the room, closing the door behind him.

Finally alone, Voldemort circled his prey. "You have sssomething that I want. Do you know what it isss?"

The man shook his head, sputtering his response. "He said that you wanted to know about one of the employees, something about her tattoo…but I never really looked. I don't know what you're talking about! I─I swear!"

"Silence!" Voldemort's voice cut through the man's babble. "I will have my answers…Legilimens!"

A cry of agony was torn from the man as his mind was smashed open from the Dark Lord's perusal. His body did not react well to the brutal invasion and began convulsing mere minutes into Voldemort's explorations. Blood leaked from his eyes and ears as his body jolted one last time before finally laying still. His eyes glassed over into dull lifelessness.

Voldemort stepped back, expecting the body with little interest. "Well, well, Addleby," he spoke to the corpse as if the man were still alive to hear him. "It would appear that you were ssspeaking the truth." Turning from the body, he looked down fondly as his snake, Nagini slithered towards the body hissing in pleasure. Her reptilian eyes looked towards her master in question. "Yesss Nagini, I have no further need of him. Enjoy your sssnack."

As Voldemort exited the room, Harry was, at last, able to tear himself away from the dream, and with a gasp he was awake.

"Harry!" Deep brown eyes looked at him with concern. Ginny sat back, and released his shoulder so he could sit up in his seat. "Harry…are you okay? You were mumbling a lot and kept tossing around."

Harry ran his hand over his face to sweep the sleep away. "Yeah…I'm fine, Gin, just a nightmare."

Ron, sitting across from him, looked at his friend with concern. "Like a regular nightmare, or one of those, you know, other nightmares?"

Not yet ready to admit that he was actually experiences those kinds of nightmares again, Harry responded, "No, just regular ones. The Ministry one again." The others in the compartment nodded in understanding. They were all too familiar with the subconscious damage that was created after their battle at the Ministry. It wasn't every day that you looked a ruthless murderer in the eye while they drew their wand on you. It was bound to leave some deep-rooted scars. And by the haunted looks in his friends' eyes, Harry knew that it, in fact, did.

A twinge of guilt wormed its way into his mind at his blatant lie. A part of him wanted to open up and share with his friends the weird dreams that he was living through. They would understand, just as they had understood when he'd suffered through them in his fourth and fifth year, but he didn't want to worry them needlessly. These dreams were different from his other nightmares. The ones from before had been sharp, detailed and had occurred as if he were seeing through Voldemort's eyes, living his life as if he and the Dark Lord were the same being. These dreams, however, they were fogged over, blurry and played out as if Harry were in the room with Voldemort.

He convinced himself that they were just different enough to mean that he wasn't in danger of his mind being taken over. That he didn't need to talk about it because Voldemort couldn't stand being around his love for others and wouldn't attempt to breach his boundaries again, just as Dumbledore had suggested.

For now, he felt he was safe and really, there was no point riling up the Order when nothing could be done anyway. It wasn't as if Snape would offer to teach him Occlumency again, even if he did need lessons─of which he was eternally grateful.

And God, how he was tired of the looks that everyone gave him whenever Voldemort was mentioned around him. It was a look of pity and slight distrust, which he could understand, since he was mentally connected to a monster, but it stung all the same. It wasn't like he asked for any of this.

So he decided to hold his tongue for now, even knowing that it wasn't the most responsible choice, but he was so tired from all the Voldemort shit happening around him that he just couldn't sum up the energy to care. He was okay with wallowing in his misery for just a little bit longer. He turned back to his friends, his mood effectively dampened.

"And Papa says that it's only a matter of time before the Purple Spotted Callimies will be comfortable enough in our presence to come out of hiding. They're wonderfully resourceful creatures you know." Luna's voice was calmly reflective, and she didn't seem at all bothered that her audience was less than captivated by her story. "I believe we'll be spending our vacation studying them."

"But how are you going study them if they won't come out of hiding?" Neville asked.

"With a flute, of course," Luna responded as if it were the simplest answer in the world. When she didn't try to explain what she meant the conversation turned towards what the others were going to do during their break.

"Well," Neville began, "I'm obviously going to visit my parents but I'm also going to spend most of my time in my gardens. The Horn Snappers that I've been experimenting on have started exploding irregularly. We recently lost Selia, one of gran's cats to them."

Several eyebrows rose in surprise. "Um, Neville," Ron asked, "Why are you trying to create exploding flowers?"

Neville blushed and tried to correct himself, "No, no. I'm not trying to create an exploding flower or anything. The Horn Snapper takes at least ten years to mature before it can be harvested, so I'm trying to speed up the maturation process so that it only takes a year instead. It's a project that I started with Professor Sprout in my fourth year. We actually got it down to a two-year time frame, but for some reason, every time one of the buds blossoms, it immediately explodes."

"Wow," Harry remarked, determined to focus on his friend's conversation. "That's some plant."

"Yes, it's been a cool project. Professor Sprout already suggested that we continue it after my graduation," Neville said with a hint of pride, then deflated a little at his next comment. "I just wish they didn't explode all the time. Herbology was the one subject I managed not to bung up completely, and now my plants are catching on fire more than my cauldrons are in Potions."

Luna placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I imagine that they are very pretty fires, though." The comment, so out of place, seemed to lighten Neville's spirits considerably. The blonde witch then turned to Ron, Ginny and Harry. "So what are you three going to do for the break? Will you be staying with the Weasleys again Harry?"

Harry happily affirmed. Since the Dursleys wanted to see as little of him as possible throughout the school year, or, well, the whole year really, he never went back there (he had a hard time calling that place home) during breaks. He was perfectly happy to stay at the castle instead. This break, however, Mrs. Weasley had extended an invitation to him and he had eagerly accepted.

Ginny answered Luna with a shrug, "Quidditch practice mostly. It'll be just me, Ron and Harry at the house now that the twins have got their own place."

"Ah, yes," Ron sighed in happiness, "the twins will be out of our hair. No more late night bathroom pranks, no more checking my food to see if there's anything in it, no more ducking out of the way when a Bludger is released in the house. Life will be good."

"I wouldn't get too happy yet, Ron. You know they like to visit for dinner. I doubt you'll really get any peace at all," Ginny reminded him.

"Thanks for dashing all my hopes." Ron slumped down in his seat pouting.

"Not a problem, Ron," Ginny answered cheerfully, causing the others to chuckle.

Conversation returned to normal after that, and Harry found himself looking out of the window, his mind straying back to his dreams again. His mood declined rapidly as he tried not to think about the implications of the dream or about anything really. He didn't want to think anymore, he wanted to be like his friends. He wanted to laugh freely without knowing in the back of his head that he had to fight a psychopath one day. He didn't want to think about how the entire wizarding world was looking at him in anticipation. He didn't want to hear about more Muggles getting kidnapped or wizards disappearing. He just wanted to forget it all. Shake his mind like an etch-a-sketch and start all over.

He pressed his forehead against the cool windowpane and sighed. God, he was tired.

A/N: So if you wondering about Harry still being connected to Voldemort, well…I know that Rowling said that Voldemort stayed out of Harry's head after Ootp, but she never said anything about their connection and whether it was completely closed after that. I personally don't think it would be. For one, it's a living piece of soul that's stuck in Harry, how do you just shut that off? On top of that, Harry was accidently getting into Voldemort's head for a while before the man even realized it, so wouldn't there be accidental peeks still going on? And lastly, even if it hurt Voldemort to be in Harry's head, I don't see that as a good enough reason for him to completely shut the connection down. If I was an evil, tyrannical monster bent on world domination, I would totally put up with a little pain, to screw with my enemies head and corrupt him.-Just sayin'.

Either way, for this story, that connection will still be open and cant be thwarted by the power of love-sorry Dumbledore, but its not going to work for everything.

Anywho…Tell me what you think! Thanks for reading!