DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and all other characters and locations belong to J. K. Rowling.
Chapter Three - Explaining Dreams
It was the first day of class for the students at Hogwarts. In the Great Hall, House tables were packed with chattering students, all clutching their schedules and exclaiming over their classes. Excitement was not evident on the faces of all however. The older students shook their heads at the good cheer and sighed over the start of another year of tomes and tests.
Harry was slumped over Gryffindor table, his eyes shadowed as he stared glumly into his bowl of cereal. The red and black robes he wore were scrunched and wrinkled, appearing as if he'd slept in them. He straightened when Hermione and Ron sat down across from him, both staring at him with wide eyes.
"You're up early." Hermione murmured with an arched eyebrow, glancing down at his bowl and nodding in approval at the healthy contents.
"Are you sick, mate?" Ron asked, leaning forward and pressing his damp palm against Harry's forehead. He managed to trail his long sleeve through the butter, the slick cloth slapping the raven-haired wizard in the face.
Pushing the redhead's hand away from his face, Harry grabbed a napkin and mopped the butter off his nose. Shoving his bowl aside, he leaned forward and beckoned his friends closer. Tossing a quick look around, he found only Malfoy's blue eyes glaring at him and flipped the blond off before turning back to look at the pair. "I had a dream last night. A strange one. I woke up holding that damn journal to my chest like it was some sort of teddy bear." He whispered loudly, continuing when he saw the interest on Hermione's face. "A witch was riding a horse towards this castle and then an arrow slammed into the horses chest and they fell."
"An arrow?" Hermione muttered in confusion, pulling the pitcher of juice closer and pouring some into a cup. "Why an arrow? Why wouldn't they use magic?" She asked, shaking her head to show she didn't understand.
"There was a white wolf on it and when she saw it, she whispered Malfoy then passed out." Harry explained, his confusion as great as Hermione's. The witch had been an easy target atop the tall horse, any spell could have struck her without much effort.
Ron snorted at the word Malfoy, shaking his head as he stirred the remaining milk in his bowl while contemplating the selection of cereals spread across the table. "The Malfoy's haven't used a white wolf in centuries." He ground out, snatching a box of cereal that contained marshmallows and dumping some into his bowl.
"Perhaps they didn't want to kill her." Hermione mumbled thoughtfully, glancing at Harry and seeing him nod in agreement. "It was a warning." She whispered, eyes wide in understanding.
Harry nodded again and fiddled with his spoon. "I don't think we should open that journal." He whispered, ignoring Hermione's whimper of denial.
"The Malfoy's have been killing people for ages, Harry." Ron stated loudly, glancing over the raven-haired wizards shoulder and internally smiling as Draco Malfoy made a rude hand gesture at him. Glancing at Hermione to make sure she wasn't watching him, he answered Malfoy's unspoken challenge, his fingers flicking in a gesture that would have gotten his mouth washed out with soap. "Don't let that put you off learning more about your family."
"He's right, Harry. This journal could tell you so much, please open it." Hermione said quietly, a hopeful look on her face. "Just because you had a strange dream doesn't mean the journal is responsible. Dreams are just our minds trying to make sense of stuff we learned over the day; just rubbish."
Shaking his head, Harry rose and climbed over the bench. "I have to get my books for first class." He muttered, giving the silent pair a wave before heading towards the exit. Feeling the slick butter on his sleeve, he rolled his eyes and decided he should probably change his robe while he was collecting his books.
"Bloody Potter!" Draco hissed, ignoring the amused looks Blaise and Pansy shot him. "He just flipped me off!" Snarling in anger, he dropped his spoon and crossed his arms over his chest in anger.
"Are you going to tell us about your dream?" Blaise asked, sipping calmly at his coffee while turning the pages of the Daily Prophet.
"A black haired witch was riding a horse down a dark path. There was a glimmer of silver then the horse fell and she got caught under him. When she managed to levitate his body off, you could see the arrow jutting out of his chest. It had a white wolf on it and she recognized it." Draco said quietly, narrowed eyes locked on the whispered huddle occurring at the Gryffindor table.
"The Malfoy wolf?" Pansy asked softly, her fork scratching along her plate as she looked up. She exchanged a look with Blaise before shaking her head. "That hasn't been used since your great-great-great-"
"We all know Pansy, Reginald Malfoy was the last member of my family to use the wolf." Draco said, not bothering to apologize for cutting her off in mid sentence. Raising a hand to his blond hair, he slid careful fingers through the styled locks while glaring at Weasley. "I think it was the witch from the painting."
"We don't dream in colour, Draco, we only think we do. Maybe you've become infatuated with Potter and subconsciously put black hair on her." Pansy mused, her eyes shining brightly as she stared at him in thought.
"That's disturbing, Pansy." Draco muttered waspishly, making a rude gesture at the Weasel and smiling in delight at the response he received.
"Well they're your dreams." The blond witch snapped, turning her attention to the schedule Professor Snape had handed her moments ago. Making a face at the top of the witch's head, Draco watched Potter walk out of the hall.
Shaking his head at Draco's antics, Blaise made a hand motion to get the attention of the other pair. "After class I'm going to go to the library and see if I can find anything on that flute. You're both welcome to join me." The dark haired wizard added, rolling his eyes when neither Pansy nor Draco said anything.
"We have Potions in ten minutes." Pansy murmured, watching as both wizards finally glanced at their schedules in distaste. Sighing, she rose and grabbed her bag. "Coming?"
"Unfortunately." Blaise growled, folding his newspaper and stepping over the bench. He swatted Draco in the back of the head with the paper and watched as the blond rose gracefully. Side by side, the three Slyhterins headed off to class.
Harry slid further down in his chair as Snape's cold gaze passed over him. Sighing in relief, he glanced at Hermione's book before opening his text to the same page. His movements were fluid and careful, his eyes resting on the Potion Masters back as he wrote something on the board. Rather then rifle through his bag for his inkpot, he nudged Ron and made a motion with his quill. The redhead stared at him blankly before widening his blue eyes and shifting the inkpot so Harry could reach it.
"If I wanted to strengthen the affect's of the Mourning Elixir without changing the base ingredients or giving multiple doses, what would I do?" Professor Snape asked, his robes trailing after him as he glided down the center aisle between the Slytherins and Gryffindors. His hands were folded behind his back as his eyes searched over the class. Harry tensed as Snape stared at him for a moment, black eyes freezing him in place. "Mister Malfoy, if you would care to enlighten the rest of this pitiful group, please feel free."
Harry broke the gaze and glanced down, rolling his eyes as Draco responded arrogantly. "You would use the blood of a Mage Dragon, sir."
"Five points to Slytherin. Why would you use Mage blood rather then that of a normal dragon?" Snape pressed, prowling silently down the side of the room farthest from the Gryffindors, his attention focused solely on the Slytherins.
Hermione's hand shot into the air, soliciting sighs from both Harry and Ron as the older wizard's gaze shifted to the waving appendage. Curling a lip, Snape stopped at the front of the room, hands resting on his hips as he searched the class for anyone else willing to answer. "Granger?" He growled through gritted teeth after concluding his vain search.
Hermione sighed and dropped her hand, folding her arms before her as she leaned forward. "The blood from a Mage Dragon is more powerful and potent then the blood of any other creature. It was once believed they had enough raw magic running through their veins to destroy the entire world." She stopped there, eyes saddening as she glanced down at the back of her hands. "The Ministry of Magic was afraid of what the Mage Dragons were capable of so they removed any laws that may have protected the species. That is the reason the Mage Dragon no longer exists."
Snape nodded slowly, shoulder length hair shifting against his face. "Five points to Gryffindor," He allowed, ignoring the hisses of outrage that rose from his house. " The Mage Dragon was hunted to extinction approximately five hundred years ago. Because of this, Mage blood and scales are both rare and expensive."
Harry shifted in his seat as Snape waved his wand at the board; the instructions and ingredients list appearing on the black surface. Around him, his classmates began to work as he stared into space. "Hermione, why is this the first time I've heard about Mage Dragons?" He asked swivelling in his seat when a shadow fell over him.
"This is Potions, Potter. Not Care of Magical Creatures, I suggest you begin brewing if you wish to finish before the end of class." Snape growled, attention already shifting to Neville Longbottom. In a swish of black silk, the Potions Master prowled away.
"Harry, the type of dragons Snape was talking about are gone. They're extinct." Hermione explained, rolling her eyes as Harry waved the statement away. "Let's talk about it later."
"Fine." Harry allowed, rising and moving to stand next to Ron at the supply cupboard. Sighing, he leaned against the door as Ron piled everything they needed into his waiting arms. Potions class was going to drag by at this rate, he thought, gaze wandering over the Slytherins. Trudging obediently back to the desk where Hermione waited, he laid the ingredients out in order. Collapsing into the chair next to the bubbling cauldron, he began to write the instructions from the board down while listening to the bushy haired witch order the redhead around. Sighing, he slumped down in the chair and stared at the warming sludge. He really hated Potions.
Blaise stalked back into the Slytherin Common Room after spending two hours tediously searching the shelves of the library. His dark hair was mussed from the constant tug of his fingers, tie swinging at half-mast as he flopped into the chair across from Pansy. Groaning, he settled back against the soft fabric and closed his eyes.
"Well?" Pansy asked quietly, eyes intent on the task she was performing. With careful precision, she dipped the small brush into the little bottle and began to paint the nail of her index finger. Wiggling the digit, she smirked as the emerald glitter in the polish flashed.
"Well?" Blaise huffed, opening his eyes and glaring at the witch. His hands tightened on the arms of the chair he sat in, fingers curling against the black cloth. "I spend two hours in the library and all you have to say is 'well'?" Shaking his head in disbelief, he slid backwards and thumped his well-shod feet onto the table resting between them.
Pansy shot Blaise a warning look when the bottle of nail polish jumped dangerously. Rolling her eyes at his show of temper, she firmed her lips before moving on to the next nail. Clucking her tongue at his continued silence, she slid the brush back into the bottle and fluttered her hands before her. "How was your most boring and diligent search, luv?" She questioned, dragging her words out slowly to tease him.
"Do you know how many enchanted musical instruments there are?" Blaise countered, hands rubbing over his face in exasperation. Massaging his temples, he glared angrily at the blonde witch.
Pansy arched a fine eyebrow, and tipped her head. "A lot?" She ventured, a smile curving her lips at Blaise's snort of affirmation.
"Thousands. Not to mention the quality of the books in the school library seems to have declined over the summer. There were only three books that could have been useful in the library and two of them are in the restricted section." Blaise stated calmly, sliding a hand into his pocket and withdrawing a small piece of parchment. Flipping it open, he peered at his neat writing before handing it to Pansy.
"Ten Thousand Flutes and their Founders?" Pansy whispered out loud, narrowing her eyes as she read his small writing. Frowning, she lowered the paper and traced a shining nail across the print. "Flutes to be Feared. Do you think its possible to order these?"
Blaise shook his head and accepted the slip of parchment back. "Finding a copy of the second one will be next to impossible and the first won't be sold to anyone under the age of nineteen." Sighing, Blaise sat back and sank into deep thought, ignoring the humming witch next to him.
Seeing his eyes lose their bright shimmer, Pansy shook her head and glanced down at her bare toes before shrugging her shoulders. Opening the small bottle she went back to painting her nails with long strokes. Chewing her lip as she noticed a small spot of green on the top of her foot, she leaned forward to investigate.
"Pansy!" Blaise barked, rolling his eyes when the blonde jumped in fright. "Where is Draco?" He questioned slowly, eyes locked on hers.
Glaring, Pansy tossed her hair over her shoulder and curled a lip. "He's out." She responded sharply, orbs narrowing at the sudden widening of the wizard's eyes.
"What's he doing?" Blaise asked anxiously, remembering the calculating look in the blue eyes when he'd told the other wizard he shouldn't play the flute.
"How the hell should I know? He's probably off harassing Hufflepuffs or threatening war with the Gryffindors." Pansy replied calmly, one finger rubbing at the speck of green. Shaking her head, she returned to painting her toenails. She hissed in anger when Blaise almost kicked her nail polish over with the heel of his boot. Eyes spitting fire at his quickly disappearing back, she muttered several choice curses. Smiling at her completed left foot, she had just begun the right when Blaise came tearing back into the room.
"I can't find the flute." He gasped out in a distraught voice, eyes wide with panic. His gaze darted around the room before resting on the wooden box tucked under Pansy's elbow. "You have it?" He muttered rhetorically, snatching the box and dragging it from under the witch's elbow.
Pansy screeched as she trailed emerald glitter across several of her toes. Tossing the brush down in anger, she began to wipe the mess away frantically. "Like I'd let him walk out of here with it." She snapped angrily, rubbing at the green stain lingering on her foot.
Blaise caressed the wood before raising an eyebrow, giving it a light shake he frowned at the silence. Flipping it open, he closed his eyes and groaned. The box was empty. "Did you actually look in the box before he left?" He rasped, staring down at her bent head. Seeing the shake of her blond head, he dropped the open case on the table. The sound was loud in the quiet room, turning heads and startling gasps from several individuals. Wheeling around, he fled the room in search of Draco, Pansy's exclaimed oops echoing down the hall behind him.
In the Gryffindor sixth year boy's dorm, Harry, Ron, and Hermione all gathered. Ron was sprawled across his bed, arms folded under his head as he stared at Harry. The raven-haired wizard sat atop his desk, legs folded comfortably. In his hands he held the cream coloured journal, one finger brushing the material absently. Frowning, he passed it to Hermione and watched as she held it reverently, her fingers running over the R embedded in the front.
"Her name must start with an R." She whispered excitedly, flipping the book over and stroking the back. She cooed at the scrolling and etchings marking the corners of the journal, turning it over and running a finger along the spine. Narrowing her eyes, she peered at several scuffmarks marring the creamy perfection.
"How do you know it's a her?" Ron demanded, slightly affronted by her assumption.
Snorting, Hermione shook her head in disgust and held the book out to the wizard sitting on the hard desk. "Does this look like something a man would write his secrets down in?" She stated quietly, a finger brushing at one of the small leaves curling in the corner of the leather. Rolling her eyes at his grunt of acceptance, she offered Harry a small smile. "Open it." She encouraged, fingers gesturing him on.
"Maybe I shouldn't, Hermione." Harry murmured, tracing the R with the edge of his thumb. Sighing, he set it down on the desk next to him and leaned back on his hands. "What about the dream? If that was with the journal closed, what will happen if I open it? We don't know who this person is, they could be evil for all we know."
Shaking her head again, Hermione stood and reached over to grab the journal. She pressed the thin book into Harry's hands, ignoring the slight hesitation before the fingers closed tightly around the creamy leather. "Memories can be imprinted on objects, Harry. If an object is with someone when something traumatic occurs, the residual fear from the event is dispersed through use. Say your dream was real, the witch most likely found having her horse killed right under scary and rather then forget, the memory was placed into the journal." The bushy haired witch explained, sitting back down and tucking her legs beneath her. Her hands waved lightly as she tried to explain the entire concept to the pair of wizards. "Just because a small bit of magic went into weaving the memory into the journal doesn't mean it holds anything evil. Memories are imprinted all the time, we just don't realize it's happening."
Harry nodded slowly, shaggy hair flopping slightly with the motion of his head. His hands tensed nervously on the journal for a moment before he sighed and gave Hermione a small smile. "Show me how to open this stupid thing." He mumbled, tugging lightly on the front and back to demonstrate its unwillingness to open.
Hermione gave a soft chuckle of relief, lifting the book from his yanking hands before it could be damaged. Her eyes began a careful sweep of the creamy cover, searching for a spot that might be stained or more deeply engraved. "Here," she whispered several minutes later, one finger hovering above a point in the scrolling. Between the twisting and twining lines, a small flower seemed to bloom on a vine. "Give me your hand."
"Is this going to hurt?" Harry asked, holding his hand out to the witch. He tried to pull back when she didn't answer but found his hand held tightly in one of hers. His finger was pressed to the leather flower quickly, a sharp stab of pain causing him to yelp and tug futilely. All three leaned closer as Hermione finally let his wrist go, watching as the bloody flower glowed softly for a moment.
"Now try." Hermione murmured, handing the small journal back to Harry and leaning forward. Her hands clutched the material of her robes as she waited impatiently for the raven-haired wizard to open the long lost journal. Mouth watering over the possibilities contained within the small book, she almost screamed at Harry to just get it over with and open it.
Harry, slid the tip of his finger into his mouth and mumbled his displeasure around the injured digit. Ignoring Hermione's whisper of 'wimp', he held the book up before him and tugged. With a loud click and a flash of gold, the journal popped open. He stared at it blankly for several seconds before frowning.
"Well, what does it say?" Hermione hissed, eyes wide as she stared at the back of the journal. Her fingers itched to tear it from his grasp so she could see the words written within it.
"There's nothing to read." Harry whispered dryly, staring down at the page he'd flipped the book open too. His eyes floated over the parchment in disbelief before he peered over the cover to meet Hermione's flustered eyes. Smiling slightly, he dropped the book backward in his hands so both Ron and Hermione could see what he meant.
A/N: Thanks to everyone who took the time to read and review!
NinjaoftheDarkness - Unfortunately it will take them a while to figure it out.
The Earth Mystic - lol, pocket-sized Draco! The boy's shared a dream brought on by the fact they both held artifacts of Raveana's.
FairyQilan - With Harry's knowledge of possessed books, one would think he'd know better then to fool around with it. However, if Dumbledore took the book we wouldn't be able to have as much fun as we're going too.
firedragon - luver - Glad you like it. Dragon is definitely the first word but the second was wrong. It's a three-letter word, if you'd like to continue guessing?
keeper of most knowledge - lol, yep the dreams were due to artifacts.