The bags under his eyes were growing darker. He hadn't had a good night's sleep in ages. He was too distraught at night to effectively raise and maintain his Occlumency barriers. He knew he needed to try harder, but it was just too difficult. He had too much on his mind. The ability didn't help much at all when he was too upset to utilize it properly.
He made his way to the Great Hall out of a lack of anywhere else to go. He would be early by just over an hour, but he didn't care. The Great Hall wouldn't be crowded yet. He needed fresh air. He needed to be out of the Pit for awhile, whether he wanted to be or not.
He had a headache. It had been with him ever since he woke up. The nightmares always gave him terrible headaches. A few times, he had awakened to find his scar bleeding slightly. It was on those nights that he knew Voldemort was doing things. Though he tried not to think on the subject too much, he found it hard not to. People were out there being attacked, but it was strange... very few had been killed. At least, very few in comparison to the number that Voldemort had sent Dementors after.
The Dementors bothered Harry. He was very familiar with the soul-devouring monsters from the island prison of Azkaban, and yet the creatures from his dreams seemed... different. Voldemort was collecting souls for something. What worried Harry most was the almost complete lack of contact from the old man within the blue gemstone. That had stopped at roughly the same time that Voldemort had set his plan into motion, whatever it was. Harry hoped the two weren't linked somehow, but he knew he wasn't that lucky. There had to be a connection.
Thinking of the gemstone only made Harry think of the Gauntlet, which still sat at the bottom of his trunk next to the shard of the Philosopher's Stone. Two parts of a greater whole. Dumbledore knew where the green gemstone was. Harry had been in contact with the blue gemstone and the soul trapped within, but had no idea where it was located. Even with Dumbledore's story of what had happened to the stonemason and his attempts at constructing the Gauntlet, Harry was dancing around with the idea of trying to assemble it himself.
He was different. He had an excess of magical power. His magical core was unique, after all. If he couldn't wear the thing, no one could. And he really had no idea how else he could fight against Voldemort. He needed a boost of power and he knew simply studying the Dark Arts and other offense-based spell books wouldn't give him the edge he needed. He wanted to reforge the Gauntlet. And right now, he didn't care much if there was a backlash. He really didn't have a lot to lose. Everything was being taken away from him bit by bit, so why not give it a try?
The only things stopping him were Dumbledore's absence and the lack of knowledge as to where the blue gemstone was located. Harry figured Dumbledore might be able to retrieve the green gem and get it to him via Dobby if he really wanted to, but that still didn't solve the other problem. Harry could only wait and hope that the soul trapped in the gem tried to contact him once more.
Arriving in the Great Hall, Harry was happy to see that he was the only one around. He went to the Ravenclaw table and sat at the end closest to the doors. Sitting down, he crossed his arms on the table and laid his head down. Letting his eyes slip shut, he wondered how soon Dumbledore was going to get Narcissa Malfoy to safety. Harry figured that, if the headmaster were to use Fawkes, he could easily get in, collect the woman, and get out. The sooner that Draco got confirmation and jumped ship, the sooner Harry could check one more worry off of his list.
Over the course of the following hour, people began arriving more and more often. Pretty soon, the din of several hundred students talking filled the air. Harry didn't much mind the noise, despite his headache. It helped distract him from his thoughts to a certain degree.
So long as no one bothered him, he would be satisfied. No one bothering him and not having food spawn under his head, anyway.
Thankfully, most people took note of the look on Harry's face and left him be. Even the Slytherins didn't look like they wanted to start anything that morning. Harry finally looked around the room, noting that Draco wasn't around, though Pansy was. Solieyu and Tonks were further up the table. Interestingly, Luna was much further down from them. Harry wasn't sure what that meant. He would need to ask the blonde at some point what happened after Harry left the room the previous night.
Eyes drifting to the Gryffindor table, Harry could see that the girls seemed to be in better spirits than the ones from his House. The twins were joking around and irritating Ron as much as they could with Umbridge looming over them all. That seemed promising. Harry wasn't sure how many of them would return, but he hoped Solieyu did what he was told and kept the hell away. Harry had barely been able to restrain himself the previous night. And with as much as he had on his mind that morning, he was in no mood to be dealing with obstinate vampires.
When the food arrived, Harry stared at it for awhile. While he tried to show up in the Great Hall at least once daily, it was a very loose commitment to say the least. He hadn't been very hungry as of late, anyway. Plus, the Great Hall was getting a bit too packed for him. The noise was grating his frayed nerves now. Too many happy, stupid people unaware of the chaos unfolding around them! Did they not realize what was happening?!
Getting to his feet, Harry turned and headed out of the room, barely noticing that his moody exit had silenced a large area around where he had been. He didn't care, really. He was used to the idiots at Hogwarts being themselves. But their being idiots is why he had to continue pushing himself so hard. Each and every witch and wizard at Hogwarts, no matter their intelligence or lack thereof, deserved to be saved. Christmas was going to cut a path through Slytherin House. It was going to get tense after that.
Stuffing his hands into his pockets, Harry abruptly turned and leaned his forehead against the cool, stone wall. He was over-thinking things. He needed to deal with them as they came.At least until things untangled themselves. At least until Tonks returned and he could get a good night's sleep. Harry wasn't entirely sure he wouldn't say no if someone else offered to just sit in the room as he slept. At least someone would be there to help snap him back to reality when the nightmares inevitably woke him up.
Pushing off from the wall, he continued his way back to the Pit. No matter his lack of sleep or mental state, he was always careful to ensure that no one followed him. This time was no different. He walked a few different places, stopped a few times to listen for footsteps and check for a magical aura nearby, and continued along. When he finally slipped through the invisible wall and headed down the short stairway, he felt more exhausted than he looked.
"Good morning. Back so soon?" Asked Levi as Harry approached his door.
"Yeah. The day hasn't gone well. Anyone stop in?" Harry asked.
"Just one." The snake replied.
Harry quickly gave the password and the door swung open.
"It's an odd thing," The voice from within the room greeted him with. "Having your world turned on its backside."
"Good morning, Draco." Harry said, closing the door behind himself and walking across the room to where Malfoy was sitting on the couch. "I assume you're here on business, then?"
Holding up a letter, Malfoy glanced aside at Harry as he rounded the couch. "Mother sent this. It arrived at four this morning. An hour later..." He held up a second letter. "And this came from Lucius."
"Just as planned, huh?" Harry asked. "So? Did Dumbledore get your mother to safety?"
"So it would seem." Malfoy said, blowing out a sigh and getting to his feet. "It says that she has arrived 'somewhere safe,' whatever that means. Apparently she isn't allowed to talk about it much."
"I'm pretty sure I know where she is. And if she's there, she's in good hands." Harry said.
"Yes, well, at least I know it's genuine. Lucius' handwriting, while eloquent as ever, takes on a distinctly shaky prose. He said that mother had seemingly vanished from the mansion. If Dumbledore managed to spirit her out of Malfoy Manor, then he's better than I've ever given him credit for." Malfoy explained.
"So. Your mother's safe and Lucius is pissed off. What of you?" Harry asked, hands sliding back into his pockets.
"I've sat here and thought about that." Malfoy said, tilting his head back and gazing up at the ceiling. "Answer one thing for me, Potter."
"Anything."
"How does 'your' side work? How do the 'good guys' operate?"
Harry closed his eyes and was silent for awhile before responding, "Our side mostly works in secret, as the Ministry is full of Voldemort's agents. Fudge is a doddering tit who wouldn't be able to find his own testicles if they were sliced off and presented to him. Dumbledore has a good number of people he trusts with running the real show. Not sure how large that group is these days. I only know of a couple handfuls of the people he's well-off with."
"In other words, your side is disjointed at best." Malfoy said.
"Mostly, yes. But we're not stupid. And we're not going to just lay down and accept what he's trying to do to this place and to our people. Unlike he and his Death Eaters, who are cowards, we would fight until the last man. Unlike his group, we wouldn't leave anyone behind. And distinctly unlike them, we do not treat those around us as bumbling inferiors. Everyone is as equal as everyone else." Harry stated.
"Good in theory, rare to see in practice." Malfoy countered.
"True." Harry admitted. "But I've been to headquarters. I know what it's like there. Now, to be fair - let me ask you one question."
"As you wish."
"Do you really think Snape is working for Voldemort?"
Malfoy smirked. "Not really. Severus is too smart for that kind of thing. A spy?"
"Yeah."
"Figures. Well, if anyone could pull it off, it's him." Malfoy said.
"So where do you stand, Draco?"
"I'm not out of the woods by a good clip, you realize. Christmas is rapidly approaching. If I don't show up, everyone will know. Once that happens, I may as well start sitting with the Gryffindors. Nonetheless, you've kept your word, Potter. That means a great deal to me. I've spent the better part of the night awake and wondering just that, Potter. Where do I stand? My whole life, Lucius drilled into my head stories of his former Master and all of the glory they had tried to restore to the wizarding world..." Malfoy said, turning to stare at the fire.
"And you believed him?" Asked Harry, watching the blonde carefully.
"Every word of it. But, Potter, there comes a time in one's life when one gets a chance to see things as they truly are. This past summer was one of those times. I'm not deaf to the world around me. I heard what happened with you last year. What really happened with Moody?" Malfoy asked, turning to look at Harry again.
"He put my name in the Goblet. Turned the Cup into a portkey. I landed in a graveyard and bore witness to Riddle's resurrection. Lucius was there from the start, of course. Cedric and--"
"Not that part, Potter. What happened after he brought you up to the school? No one saw him after that and you were in the hospital wing next anyone heard."
Harry smiled grimly. "He explained what he had done. So I drove some spikes through his body, pinning him to the wall, and then I tried to kill him. Would've succeeded if Dumbledore hadn't arrived and thrown me to one side. All my spell managed to take out was the bastard's arm. Shame, that."
Malfoy smirked again. "Interesting to hear someone like you say something like that. I thought you were Dumbledore's little golden boy."
"You'd be surprised what I've thought about and done, Draco." Harry said. "Life isn't as simple as light and dark. There's a large grey area in-between. I've spent most of my life floating about in that part of things. I was initially upset with myself for wanting to kill Moody. Time has changed that. He deserved worse than what he got. As far as I know, he's still at St. Mungo's under close watch."
"Look at you two, chatting as though you'd been best mates from the start." Came a soft voice from the doorway. Harry and Malfoy turned to see Pansy stepping into the room.
"Did you hear the door open?" Harry muttered quietly.
"Not a damned thing." Malfoy replied. And then, addressing Pansy, he asked, "How do you do that, anyway?"
"I'm small and inconspicuous. You'd be surprised at how well I can sneak around." Pansy said, smiling sweetly as she walked over. "So, what were you two talking about when I slipped in?"
"The past. And the future." Harry said. "Care to join us? It's been a lovely conversation thus far!"
"You really need sleep." Pansy stated, stepping close to Harry and peering at him.
"I got enough sleep for one day, thank you." Harry muttered.
"So it would seem. Well, you caused quite an uproar when you left the Great Hall." Pansy said, moving away to lean against the back of the couch.
"Oh? What happened?" Asked Harry.
"Your precious little wench started to cry." Pansy said, an unmistakably happy tone to her voice. "The vampire tried to console her. Then Lovegood got up and left. Granger got up and ran after her. Nothing quite like dissension in the ranks."
"Fantastic." Harry muttered darkly, turning and staring at the flames dancing in the fireplace.
"Oh, don't sound so put-out. Lovegood looks like she's thinking up a really good rant to lay on Reinhardt. If anyone can get him to stop being a thick-headed idiot, it's her." Pansy spat.
"Draco, you're in the same House as her. Can you please explain to me her mood swings?" Harry asked, gesturing at Malfoy as he looked over his shoulder at Pansy.
"Personally, I think Pansy needs to just drag your oblivious ass into a broom closet and get it over with." Malfoy said, looking off and smirking. "It would stop her fro-- OUCH! Damn it, woman...!"
Malfoy rubbed his arm, which had just been hit by a stinging hex from Pansy, who was openly glaring at the blonde. Glaring and blushing, Harry noted, bringing a hand up to rub the bridge of his nose.
"Not sure I want to know what that means." Harry stated finally.
"Really? Not even after she nearly cursed you and your girlfriend last year at the Yule Ball?" Malfoy asked, looking at Harry in amusement. "Good lord, Potter. And we're depending on you in this war?"
"Brain's too shorted out to do any heavy thinking right now, Draco." Harry grumbled.
"So go to bed." Malfoy said. "I'm not going anywhere anytime soon. And you need to be a bit more lucid."
"I can't sleep, Malfoy!" Harry yelled. "Because when I sleep and my mind won't work right, I can't properly use Occlumency to keep Riddle from showing me whatever he bloody well pleases! No one should have to see the shit I have! And yet everyone expects me to be some kind of leader for them! I have my own damned problems right now that I'd like to work out! The first order of business is making Leon be a damn man so I can have my girlfriend back!"
Malfoy and Pansy exchanged a glance.
"But until that happens," Malfoy began, sitting back on the couch, "You need to think of some way to get sleep. You can't expect potions to get you by, can you? There's a limit to how much one's body can take before it begins kicking back what it's given. You should be on good terms with Madam Pomfrey by now. Why haven't you asked for Dreamless Sleep?"
"He's probably too worried about addiction right now." Pansy said, her voice quiet.
"Mm. Yes. I suppose with how sleep deprived he is, it could be an issue. Still. There has to be a way for you to get an uninterrupted night's sleep, Potter." Malfoy reasoned.
"There's an order to things. I have to have Tonks with me. I need to know she's there. That safety lets me relax. Relaxing allows me to think clearer. Thinking clearly allows me to raise my Occlumency barriers which, in turn, keep any unwanted dreams out. I physically cannot sleep like I am now. I wake up every night from nightmares." Harry explained, running a hand back through his hair.
"Meditation doesn't work?" Asked Malfoy.
"Can't meditate. Too much in my head." Harry said.
"So stop thinking." Malfoy said.
"I'm a Ravenclaw! All I do is think!" Harry cried. "I think and I think and I try and work out how the hell I can get anything done! Umbridge isn't any closer to being sacked. Fudge is still making anyone related to the Ministry cover up Voldemort's return. My friends are acting like idiots. At least I have a good idea what side of the storm you're on now, Draco."
"So it would seem." Malfoy said. "Listen, Potter. Listen closely and do not repeat a single word I'm about to tell you. I have a reputation to maintain."
"Oh, this'll be good." Harry muttered to himself.
"Sing." Malfoy said firmly.
"Say what?"
"Sing."
"...What, now?" Harry asked.
"Yes, now. NO, you bloody idiot. When you're trying to sleep!" Malfoy said, looking exasperated. "Sing. Hum. Think about music. It's distracting. You'll have a song stuck in your head for a few weeks after, but it's good for trying to unwind. Mother told me it's what she did when Lucius was in one of his moods. Eventually I started to use it as well."
Harry stared at the Slytherin for a moment before shaking his head and heading towards the bedroom. "Yeah, okay. Brain's officially fried now. Draco Malfoy, singing himself to sleep. Huh-uh."
"Where are you going?" Malfoy asked, looking sour.
"To lay down. If I'm careful, I can rest without actually falling asleep. My eyes could do with being shut for awhile." Harry said, opening the bedroom door. After slipping inside, he turned and looking back at Malfoy. "...Thank you, Draco."
After the door closed, Pansy whispered, "Which part of today do you think he was thanking you for?"
"Both, probably." Malfoy murmured. "What of you, Pansy?"
"What of me?" Asked the girl.
"Go in there." Malfoy said. "Stay with him. Be with him. If he's to be our leader in this war, he needs to be capable of staying awake. He needs a good night's rest. A few days' worth, probably."
"He'd never let me." Pansy said, staring down at the ground.
"You don't know that." Malfoy said, tilting his head to look at the girl.
"I do so know it." Pansy mumbled. "He loves her too much."
"He also hates me too much to actively let me in on his secrets. And yet that's what he's doing. Taking a huge personal risk." Malfoy stated.
"Are you really on our side now, Draco?" Asked Pansy.
"Of course I am." He replied. "Can't let Potter get all the glory, can I?"
"Getting back at your father is just an added perk?"
"You could say that."
The two Slytherins sat in silence after that. When it was broken, it was by Pansy, who pushed herself off the back of the couch and asked, "Do you really think he'd accept me? Or would I just be a replacement?"
"If he lost the vampire, do you think I'd fill the void?" Asked Malfoy softly.
Pansy looked down, her shoulders slumping. "...The sad part is I'd still be willing to do it anyway. Knowing I'd just be a substitute. But I need to catch him at a better time. It's been tough for him, this last week or two."
"If you're going to do it, you'd better do it soon, Pansy. Who knows what might happen in the future." Malfoy said.
"Yeah..." Pansy murmured, her gaze lifting to stare at the bedroom door. "The future..."
oOoOoOoOoOoOo
Harry had spent ten minutes speaking with Boris before he lost his fight with consciousness. Boris was coiled on the nightstand on Harry's side of the bed, watching his master sleep. It wouldn't be for long, he knew. It never was anymore. He would begin tossing and turning.
His eyes would snap awake and, seconds later, he would jerk bolt upright in bed. A few times, Harry had said just how irritating that last bit was, as under normal circumstances, it was almost impossible to perform such a maneuver.
The taipan laid his head down, but kept himself alert. He would sense it before it actually happened. It was all a matter of time.
For Harry, the Pit may as well have been a million miles away. And, for all he knew, it very well could have been. He was in that strange, black room that he had seen once before. This time, however, only four rooms branched off of it, not six as there had been before. The pedestal still stood in the center of the room, though the blue gemstone laying on it was quite clean now.
"He is active..." Whispered an elderly voice. "He is active..."
"Who is?" Harry asked, stepping towards the pedestal.
"The demon. He walks these halls once more. He has increased how often I feed. Energy is building now..." The voice said. "I am growing stronger once more..."
"But who are you?"
Just then, a ghostly figure materialized beside the pedestal. It was that of an old man, his face wrinkled more than any Harry had ever seen. He had a beard longer than Dumbledore's and was nearly as gaunt as Solieyu. His robes hung loosely on his frame. Though he was the same pale blue as the ghosts at Hogwarts, his eyes shone with a different light. They were brighter - stronger somehow. They were the same color as the gem.
"I am Balthazar Velmond." Spoke the spectral figure. "I was once a crafter of fine gems."
"You made the conduit gem." Harry said, looking down at the sparkling stone. "You used yourself as the sacrifice."
"I did." Said Balthazar, his eyes downcast. "I could not bear the thought of sacrificing an innocent man to fuel my friend's mad plan."
"Why even go through with it, then?" Asked Harry as he stepped closer. "Why go through with it at all?"
Balthazar smiled faintly. "Just as there is now, so too was a great evil stalking the lands then. We had little choice. My friend was foolish for thinking up the idea and we as well for following. But the Gauntlet worked. He had to destroy almost a hundred wands to invoke the power needed to fuel the process, but it worked."
"What do you mean? Where did he get that many wands?"
"I do not know. But I saw them. A massive amount if power is needed to forge the Gauntlet, you see. Sadly... once he had it forged, his magical core was consumed. The Gauntlet remained affixed to his body until he had decayed..."
"I'm sorry." Harry said. "It must have been painful to watch that happen."
Balthazar's head snapped up, staring at once of the exits to the room. "We haven't much time. The demon has returned to his lair." He looked back at Harry. "He is feeding me again. He has great plans for this place. Horrible plans."
"What's going to happen?" Harry asked, now glancing at the spot the old man had looked.
"He will rise above all others. A great shadow will fall across the lands. He will spread terror and destroy lives wherever he goes. Pain and misery will be left in his wake. You must save me. You must come and retrieve my gem from this place! Quickly! If he is allowed to complete his plans, the whole world may be in danger..." Balthazar said, his words spoken in a hissing tone.
"But where are we?" Asked Harry, his own voice lowering.
"Hell." Spoke the ghostly figure.
Before Harry could ask what he meant, the black world seemed to dissolve around him. It was hot now - a heat Harry had never felt before. He twisted around, trying to figure out what was going on. Empty blackness continued on in every direction, however. Try as he might, he couldn't force the emptiness to give way to anything.
And then, faintly at first then growing to ear-shattering levels, crying could be heard. A pained, otherworldly crying. The world exploded around him, erupting into flames and smoke. He was standing within a house engulfed in fire. He could feel the heat, but it did not cause him harm. But the sounds filling his ears - the horribly screams of people being immolated - were worse. Far, far worse.
Harry didn't want to look, but knew he had to. Three people were curled up together in one corner of the apparent kitchen they were in. The parents were sheltering their child from the flames, despite it being a futile endeavor. It was consuming them just as quickly as it consumed their house. A burst of light from above caught Harry's attention. Desperate to look away from the dying family, he jerked his head up. Through the multitude of holes appearing in the roof, a glowing, green skull had formed in the skies.
Clamping his eyes shut, Harry screamed, "STOP! I DON'T WANT TO SEE THIS!"
Harry felt a strong gush of wind blow past him, taking the heat of the flames with it. When he opened his eyes, he found himself once more surrounded in darkness. But he still had his footing. He was still capable of moving around. He tried in vain to let his eyes adjust,
deciding he had to move, even if he couldn't see where he was going.
Slowly, he felt his way forward, unsure of where he was still. Despite being unable to see, this felt... familiar somehow. The familiarity was outweighed, however, by the creeping dread. This place was too silent - too still. It was a sharp contrast to the noise of the dying family and the feeling of flames dancing around him. Best as he could tell, there were no people at all here.
He left the building he was in only to tumble out and into the street. But there were no cars. There were no shops open. There were no street lights. The mere sounds of nocturnal animals and insects wasn't even present. Not even the wind would blow to help Harry try and establish some sense of direction in this place.
The only beacon in the darkness rose above the rest of the buildings, at the end of a long street. A small mansion of sorts with a light coming from a lone, upstairs window. It almost seemed to phase in and out of reality. Harry was having a hard time keeping track of it despite the fact that his eyes never left the spot once he had locked onto it. There was a vile fog growing around him. It seemed almost supernatural in and of itself. It wasn't being helpful, in any case, and only added to the feeling of dread that was still washing over him. It felt almost as if Dementors were surrounding him.
The hair on the back of his neck rose when the silence was violently broken. A siren, from somewhere in the distance, had started to go off. Loud and seemingly unending, it tore through the darkness like a knife. The window once more became visible and, feeling as though death itself was coming for him, he took off running.
The street was half destroyed, as though heavy objects had smashed into it and then subsequently been removed. Harry did his best to keep himself from tripping. He had long since tried to find his wand, only to realize that he had lost it at some point. Chills still ran down his back as he collided abruptly with a large, iron gate. He had made it to the front of the mansion. For once, it seemed as if luck was on his side, as one half of it was open. Once he pushed through it to enter the mansion's yard, the siren in the distance was cut off. The noise didn't wind down slowly, it had simply stopped dead.
There was nothing natural about this place, Harry decided. Something had cleared the town out. Something had removed all traces of life. The question was what. And if no one was around, why was the light upstairs on?
One of the two doors leading into the building was open. But unlike the gate he had just come through, this passage forward made Harry once more feel as though something was lurking just outside his field of vision. Though there was no wind to push it, the door swung back and forth slowly, as though rocked by some unseen hand.
Carefully making his way inside, Harry was met with an even stranger sight. The mansion, though it looked new from the outside, looked as if it should have been condemned and destroyed ages ago. Everything was black with dirt and rust, along with the unmistakable splatter marks that could only be made by blood.
He briefly considered his options. He could either take his chances back outside, in the fog, cold, and darkness... or continue pushing forward into the rusted, blood-soaked abode. Neither was particularly pleasant.
It didn't take him long to find the room with the light coming from it. He had made sure to glance up as he ran between the gate and the door. He was having trouble navigating the place however, as his feet kept piercing the rotted floor beneath him. Near the top of the stairs, he had almost snapped his ankle as his foot suddenly pushed through a step rather than come to rest on top of it.
A foul odor was emanating from the room, and Harry could hear a faint voice coming from within. Though quiet, it was a familiar, high-pitched tone. Harry's heartbeat quickened as he listened. He knew that voice. He had heard it before. Just once, in person. It was more than enough. If he never heard the voice again, it would be too soon. But he had come so far - he had to see what was happening inside.
Slowly reaching out, he took hold of the old, crusted-over doorknob and twisted it, pushing it open. Light flooded Harry's eyes, causing him to gasp aloud and clamp his eyes shut. Slowly, so as to allow them to adjust, Harry let them open once more.
He immediately wished he hadn't.
Humans, stripped of their skin, were hanging in the room, held up by hooks piercing their backs. Blood dripped from their bodies and pooled under them. A darkness in one corner that Harry had initially thought was merely a shadow caught his attention. Turning away from the gore before him, he saw a pair of black-clad figures kneeling next to a corpse that had fallen (or been ripped) from its hook. They seemed to be devouring it.
Just then, they stopped, as though they knew that they were being watched. They slowly turned and faced Harry, who took a step backwards. By all rights, they were Dementors. They should have been Dementors. But Dementors only had gaping voids for mouths. These... things, whatever they were, had large mouths filled with rows of razor-sharp teeth. The sunken, almost nonexistant eyes of the Dementors were replaced by dark holes with small, bright, red lights in the center. Blood dripped from their mouths.
Harry wanted to ask what the hell he was looking at, but he couldn't find the words to speak. Almost as if answering a small child's question, however, a voice rang out from another corner of the room. Turning his head, Harry saw the unmistakable face of Voldemort peering out from the inky darkness that was now filling the room.
"Do you like them, Harry? They are the first of their kind. The are Altered. They are the new face of nightmares. They will descend and they will feast as their brethren leave hollow shells in their wake. Immune to that which their weaker siblings are almost killed by, my little pets will soon make our dear Minister change his opinions on me." Purred Voldemort, his head turning to look at the beasts near the body.
Before Harry could respond, Voldemort's face split into a wide grin and he howled, "KILL HIM!"
Boris' eyes snapped open as Harry let out a strangled scream. The teen's eyes then opened as wide as they could and, before the snake could ask what was wrong, Harry had bolted out of bed, slammed the door open, and ran into the main room of the Pit.
Pansy and Malfoy had jerked their heads towards the bedroom door upon hearing the scream. When Harry came rushing out, heading for the bathroom, Pansy tried to ask what was wrong. But Harry didn't reply. Moments later, the sounds of violent retching could be heard from inside. The Slytherins exchanged a disgusted glance, but nodded anyway.
Harry was on the ground in front of the toilet, leaning against it to try and stop the shaking. Pansy stepped inside and knelt down next to him, rubbing at his back slowly. Malfoy stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame, as he surveyed the ill Ravenclaw.
"Another nightmare?" Asked the blonde quietly.
Harry gave a weak nod.
"I won't ask what happened." Malfoy continued. "You were only out of the room for half an hour."
"Felt like longer." Harry croaked. "Voldemort's done something to the Dementors..."
"What do you mean?" Asked Pansy.
"He's changed them. Altered them. Dunno." Harry muttered. He make a gurgling groan before leaning over the toilet once more.
"This settles it." Malfoy said. "Pansy, watch him. I'll be right back."
"Be quick." Pansy said.
"Where...?" Harry muttered between gasps.
"You'll see." Pansy murmured. "Breathe, Harry. You're fine now. You're awake. Nothing can get you here..."
Slowly, Harry was able to scoot away from the toilet, leaning back against the bathtub and breathing slowly. Pansy sat quietly with him for ten minutes until Malfoy returned, a pair of small vials in his hands. He entered the bathroom and got on one knee.
"Drink." Malfoy ordered, holding out the first vial, which was filled with a watery, orange substance.
"What is it?" Harry asked.
"Something to quiet your stomach." Malfoy said. "I got these from Severus, before you ask."
"'Kay." Harry muttered, uncorking the vial and downing its contents quickly. Thankfully, the taste was pleasant and didn't trigger any gag reflexes.
"Second one." Malfoy continued, holding out a vial filled with deep grey ooze. "This one will help you clear your head. Just a sip."
Harry nodded, taking a quick swig of the disgusting slop. He winced as he swallowed, making a gagging sound. "Oh god..."
"Yeah, sorry. Don't ask the ingredients. Okay, final one." Malfoy said, holding up a vial of neon blue liquid. "All of this one."
Harry nodded again and quickly downed the entire bottle. "What was it?"
"Dreamless Sleep." Malfoy said quietly. "Sorry, Potter, but you need to get some damned rest. Whether it helps your mental status or not, your body's got to rest."
"No!" Harry cried as soon as Malfoy spoke the name of the potion. "Damn it, Draco, I can't have Dreamless Sleep! I need to stay awake! I have to be able..."
But he didn't get to finish his sentence. The potion was strong and took effect almost immediately. He slumped to one side. Pansy caught his head before it cracked against the ground. Sighing, she looked over at Malfoy and asked, "Was that really the best thing to do, Draco? He's going to be mad when he wakes up."
"Yes, but at least he'll have his head on a bit straighter then. If we left him as he was, he would just become more and more irrational. No one needs to go through that. Come on, help me levitate him back to his bed." Malfoy said, getting to his feet and drawing his wand.
The two Slytherins floated Harry back through the Pit, depositing him in the center of his bed. Boris, who had only caught bits and pieces of the conversation from across the quarters, stared at the two as they lowered Harry down.
"Don't worry." Pansy said, glancing at the taipan. "Dreamless Sleep. He'll be out for a good day with as much that was in there. It's for his own good."
Boris bobbed his head before turning it to look at Harry. He didn't approve of tricking the boy into taking the stuff, but Harry did need sleep.
"Let's go." Malfoy said. "Gotta make sure anyone that comes in stays quiet."
"Yeah..." Pansy said, watching Harry for a bit longer before turning and leaving the room.
Closing the door behind them, the two walked over to the couch and sat down. Malfoy stretched his arms out along the back of it, while Pansy gazed into the flames in the fireplace.
"What did you say to him?" Asked Pansy.
"Who? Severus? I told him the truth." Malfoy said, shrugging. "Guess he thought Potter needed help, too."
"Nice of him." Pansy murmured.
"Yeah." Malfoy agreed.
"...It's going to be a long day, isn't it, Draco?"
"Probably." Malfoy said, leaning his head back and shutting his eyes. "Probably."
oOoOoOoOoOoOo
Author's Notes: Pleasantly surprised to see a distinct lack of bitching about chapter 13. It's always a risk when you do a sudden change in your direction. Good to see people are generally mature enough to follow the waves. Very good to know. Means I can move ahead as planned without worry. As a writer, you always have this little voice in the back of your head telling you whether you should or shouldn't do certain things with the characters you have. This time, I went against that voice and stopped following the bloody plot so damn rigidly. I've been waiting for over 4 books to move away from the ruined path Rowling took her characters down.
I'm not saying mine is better or worse. That isn't for me to decide. It's for all of you reading this to decide. Deathly Hallows is out soon and like all of you, I'll be taking time out to read it. It's going to be hideous. After the literary abomination that was Half-Blood Prince, it can't NOT be.
As a side note, many of Citadel's plot points have been augering into Order's plotline. And to help extend the slimmed down version of Order, I'll be including one more thing. It'll take up the better half of chapter 15. Readers who have just found the R-Series might recognize bits of Harry's nightmare more than those who've been following each chapter as it comes out. Still, it should be familiar to all of you. Just a bit expanded upon.
Until next time, sleep tight.