Disclaimer: The only thing in here that's truly mine is the plot. Contary to some belief, I'm not JKR in disguise, although it is a great compliment to be compared to her.Besides, I'm poor, and JKR is... not. So there.

(A/N: Hey all! I'm back! For those wanting longer chappies, this one is 4448 pre-editing, so cheers! A few things to tell you before you rush into the chapter I believe some of you have been waiting a long time for. First,this chapter has a few instances where there are curse words.I believe that in one particular section where these curse words are placed,the person speaking them should be speaking them. It would be against the character's nature to substitute cuss words for thinks like "poopie-heads," "dagnabbit,"and my personal favorite, "fudge-knuckles!" If you are not mature enough to handle these cuss words, then by all means, keep it to yourselves. Like I've said many times before, don't like, don't read. Second and last (told you it was a few things I wanted to tell you), this chapter is formatted a bit differently. Read the chapter title, and you'll understand. If you still don't, hopefully you'll pick it up as you read. If you still, still don't, I'd just like to say wow. And a few words... Percy's ideal cauldron bottoms ;-) Now onto the chapter! See you at the AN at the end!)

Chapter 18: Dreams

"C'mon Harry! You have to see this!" Harry ran after the girl in front of him, her short black hair bouncing as she ran. It was tough, following her through the tall, grassy field.

"If you'd slow down a bit, I could follow easier!" Harry panted as he ran. His seven-year-old body was small, and he couldn't part through the grass as easily as she.

They came to a stop in front of her two sisters. "You brought him, good." Harry caught his breath and, scrunched his nose up at the speaker, who looked exactly like the girl Harry had followed, except with shoulder-length hair.

"As you wanted, sister dear. Can we show him now?" The first girl asked easily.

The two other sisters nodded, and stepped aside. Harry saw what they had been hiding; a giant loom with threads weaving themselves into a pattern. As he stepped forward, the three sisters moved, the one with short black hair to a spindle that was making threads, the medium length black haired sister to choose threads from a pile to enter the loom, and the longest-haired one of all to the loom itself, weaving the threads into the unseen pattern.

"This will be a tapestry, won't it?" Harry asked.

The sister at the loom nodded. "A grand tapestry, which will be forever exalted."

"It will tell a grand story about mankind." Said the sister picking out threads.

"Of their trials and tribulations; their glories and falls." Agreed the sister at the spindle.

Harry had to step back to see what the tapestry already told. The colors wove in and out, each thread not quite the same, but all adding to the overall picture. Before he could try and make out the story being told, the sister at the loom spoke up.

"It is unwise to worry at the loom, Harry. Many have been caught up, and have wasted away trying to read what has already been written."

Harry obediently stepped forward again and his eyes caught sight of a brilliant golden thread that had started not too long ago. He noticed that the thread hadn't moved much since it's beginning, as if the sister hadn't quite decided where it would go yet.

"That golden thread, why isn't it being worked on? It's a beautiful thread." Harry asked.

From her place choosing the threads, the medium-haired sister spoke up with a small smile. "Yes, it is a beautiful thread. But try as we might, even we cannot predict where that thread will go."

Harry frowned. "Why have you brought me here?"

All three sisters turned to look at him, smiling knowingly at him.

Harry woke up with a frown on his face. Such a weird dream… Harry shook his head. Reaching out for his bed table, Harry wrote down as much as he could remember in a notebook he always kept by his bed.

"Honestly, he'd better wake up soon, or else! I mean, I know he basically just kicked some major arse, and he's the… bloody hell Hermione, what'd I do?" Harry smirked at Ron's exclamation, and silently climbed out of his bed. He changed into his Animagus form, and slipped into a shadow, the better to remain undetected by his friends.

Harry watched with amusement as Ron rubbed his arm and Hermione glared at him. "Watch your language, Ron! Besides, we don't know when Harry will wake up. He did use an awful lot of powerful magic today, so he's probably exhausted."

Remus nodded. "I'd imagine so. Did anyone even know that last spell Harry used?"

"I did! Oh Moony, pick me, pick me!" Harry made his appearance right behind Hermione. She shrieked, jumped about a foot in the air, and ran to Ron. Ginny squeaked, and both Remus and Ron gave little shouts of surprise. Harry looked at them all innocently. "What?"

Severus Snape, safe in his private rooms, far from prying eyes, smiled. For the first time in fifteen years, he felt something akin to hope. If Harry Potter could find a spell to totally destroy Dementors, then finding a way to beat the Dark Lord wouldn't be that much harder.

Realizing his own thoughts, he went to slump in his chair, and held his head in his hands. "What's wrong with me?" the Potions Professor muttered to himself. "Since when did I start not hating James Potter's son?"

He went into a brief argument with himself, one side of him insisting that Harry Potter was a stuck-up, arrogant little brat, while another reminded him of how Harry had saved his life, and gave him the Animagus potion for free. At that thought, Snape's head shot up. "That cheeky little bugger! He gave me that potion to insure he would be in NEWT Potions!" He murmured in amazement.

Severus Snape couldn't help but laugh. He was alive, Voldemort was pissed, and Harry Potter should've been a Slytherin.

Headmaster Dumbledore leaned back in his chair, and stared at the ceiling, lost in thoughts. How could anyone, even Harry Potter, destroy Dementors? Even in all his one-hundred and fifty some odd years, he had never come across any spell that would do what Harry had done. It had to have been a new spell, but the Professor knew it wasn't possible. It took years and years of research for a new spell to be invented and tested. Goodness knows Dumbledore had made three in all his years that were useful, and none with that amount of power.

So what in the world had Harry done to destroy the Dementors?

"All right, all right, I'll tell you! Hermione, please put your wand away. I would rather have every part of my body still intact." Harry pleaded his hands up as if to protect him from Hermione's wrath.

Hermione growled at him. Harry knew he had never seen her this angry before. "You'd better, Harry, because I know some very interesting hexes that I would love to test out."

Harry gestured to the Common Room, and Hermione reluctantly took a seat. "Okay, not too long ago, I was looking up this book about Spell craft. It had some very interesting concepts, and I was going to use what I learned to make a spell. I still have it planned, but I had to put it aside when I got Voldemort's vision."

The rest of the Marauders looked confused. "Huh?" Ron asked.

Harry grinned. "I was in the process of making a spell before I got the vision about the attack. When the vision came, I had to put aside the spell I had been making, and try to come up with a new one that would help us. I knew I didn't have enough time to create a brand new spell, so instead I had to use what I learned a bit differently."

"Harry, please just go ahead and tell us, before Hermione goes on a rampage." Ginny grinned at him. In reply, Harry winked at her, and smiled.

"I guess what you could say is I wove two spells together to make one, for the sole purpose of defeating the Dementors. My first try worked pretty good, didn't it?" Harry had a devilish smirk on his face.

Remus leaned back in his chair, flabbergasted. "You mean to tell me what you did earlier today was the first time you had ever tested the spell!" He almost shouted.

"No, of course not, what do you take me for, an idiot?" Harry replied back calmly. As he watched the faces around him relax, he bit back the smile that was fighting to appear. "That was just the first time I had tested it in a real situation."

Harry decided that now would be a good time to make a run for it, seeing the murderous expressions on his friends' faces.

"Fawkes, why are they so mad at Harry?" Hedwig asked, watching the other humans chase Harry around.

Fawkes chuckled. "Because the spell Harry used wasn't fully tested and perfected yet, and could have unsouled them all." He replied, watching as first Harry, then Ginny, Ron, and Hermione transformed into their Animagus forms.

If Hedwig could have frowned, she would have. "But it's my Harry. He's always better at performing spells when either he or his friends are in trouble. And he would never have used the spell if he wasn't sure it would work. We know that."

"Yes, we do, but they don't. They're humans, Hedwig." Fawkes told the owl, as if it explained everything. For the most part, it did.

So the two avians watched, as the chase led to a wrestling match. Even outnumbered three to one, Harry was winning. Of course, the birds didn't expect anything less of their master and friend.

Eventually, the Marauders calmed down, and made their way back to the common room. Harry apologized for not testing his spell more thoroughly, but he explained he didn't have enough time. He had diagrammed the spell work, and knew in theory it would do as it was supposed to. His friends promised a slow and painful death if he ever did such a thing again. Inwardly, Harry promised himself that he would never actually tell them if he had a repeat of the event.

"So, Harry, tell me more about this Spell… weaving?" Hermione looked at Harry eagerly, her face lit up with anticipation.

Her words struck a chord in Harry's mind, and his thoughts hurdled back to the dream he had had just moments ago. "Hermione… I'll tell you later. Right now, I need your help. I had a weird dream just before I woke up, and I think you'll be able to help me."

Ron looked concerned. "Did… was the Dark Queen involved?" The redhead couldn't totally stop the corners of his lips from turning upwards.

Harry smiled at him brilliantly. "No, the Dark Queen wasn't involved, but I have this feeling that it's real important."

He settled down, and started to tell his friends about his dream.

"CRUCIO!"

The recipient of the curse from Voldemort's wand screamed as he dropped to the floor, writhing in intense pain. Voldemort, also known as the Dark Queen to five people currently living in the Chamber of Secrets, although he did not know it, was not happy with the way his plans had failed spectacularly. In one afternoon, two hundred Dementors had been destroyed, something once thought impossible, and fifty of his Death Eaters were missing. The poor fool currently screaming in pain on the floor had been the latest to deliver a status report that said there was no change.

Voldemort lifted the curse, and looked around at the nearly empty room. A few members of his Inner Circle were here, those he thought too valuable to waste on an easy attack such as the one the raid on Diagon Alley was supposed to be. The rest were part of the missing, and many of the new recruits were with their leaders, wherever they were.

Not having taken anger management classes, Voldemort couldn't (or wouldn't)control his temper, and burst out in a full-fledged, cuss-word-ridden rant. Some of the newer followers stared in awe as Lord Voldemort, the Dark Lord, and the most feared wizard of all Britain, second only to Albus Dumbledore, cussed like the proverbial sailor. Those caught staring too openly were subjected to some of the anger-laden Dark Lord's more magically inclined curses.

"…and how the hell did we end up losing over two hundred Dementors! There is no fucking way that anyone could have destroyed even one Dementor, much less two hundred! There is no fucking spell that can do that!" Voldemort continued his rant. He paused, briefly, and caught his breath. Then he looked around, and smiled sinisterly. "Would any of you pieces of shit like to explain how the hell that was possible?" He inquired evilly.

Silence reigned, as his followers looked nervously at each other. It was only broken when the doors to the room banged open, and a Death Eater hurried into the room, throwing himself at Voldemort's feet, and kissing the hem of the Dark Lord's robes.

Voldemort almost cursed the man for interrupting, but he knew who it was, and that alone stayed his hands. Severus Snape had been thought a spy for Dumbledore, until the test that Voldemort had devised told him opposite. That meant he was as loyal as the Potions master claimed he was. This was good, because he was actually capable of intelligent thought, a trait which seemed to be sorely lacking among the Death Eater ranks.

"Severus, what a… surprise." Lord Voldemort hissed, his voice hinting at his displeasure. "What urgent news do you bring me?"

"Forgive me, my Lord, for interrupting. Dumbledore would have been suspicious if I had left his meeting too early." Severus Snape kept his head bowed, his Occlumency shields up at full force. "I came as soon as I could. My Lord, Dumbledore was not behind what happened at Diagon Alley."

Voldemort inhaled sharply. "Indeed? This is interesting. If not Dumbledore, than who did it?"

Severus lifted his head up a little, and fought down the smirk that threatened to rise as well. He still wouldn't look Voldemort in his eyes. "Harry Potter, or so Dumbledore and his little group say." Severus knew that Voldemort would be pissed off beyond belief at that, but it might provide good entertainment for him, as long as he weren't punished. A few hours after the failed attack, Dumbledore had asked that he go and tell what he was saying to Voldemort. The Headmaster hoped that it would bring favor on Severus, and his life would be safe. After a discreet owl to Harry, confirming it was okay; Severus donned a fresh set of Death Eater robes, and went away.

Silence once again filled the throne room where Voldemort held his meetings. The Dark Lord froze on his throne. "Is that so, Severus? You have done well to inform me of this. You may leave. Be prepared to except a parcel in the next few days." Voldemort's voice hissed softly. This news told the Dark Lord two important things; first, Severus could be trusted, and second, Harry did not trust Dumbledore enough to get him involved.

Severus sighed with relief inwardly. "Yes, My Lord. Thank you, my Lord." He bowed and kissed the hem of Voldemort's robes once more, and backed himself out of the room. Once the door was shut behind him, he made his way to a special room that was charmed to show what was happening in the throne room.

For the next hour, Severus Snape thoroughly enjoyed seeing Voldemort totally lose his temper.

The Common Room was silent as Harry finished telling his friends about his dream. Ron looked clueless, Ginny confused, and Remus thoughtful. Hermione, however, looked as if her brain was working overtime to solve this latest riddle.

"Harry," Hermione began, "Are you sure this isn't a… a You-Know-Who inspired dream?" She asked, as if slowly testing out the words before she said them.

The raven-haired team looked at her, frowning. "I know what those dreams are like, Hermione. This wasn't one of them. Come to think of it, in the vision I had about Voldemort's attack plans, it didn't feel like it either. The Beast Council, I think, helped sort all that stuff out."

Harry could almost see the gears clicking and whirring in Hermione's head. Remus took the silence as Hermione thought to his advantage.

"Well, I don't know about you, but the three girls in your dream sound like they could represent the Three Fates." Remus spoke up.

Hermione lit up, and Harry nodded slowly. "It does fit… but aren't they supposed to be old, or share a single eye, or something?" Harry asked.

Before the conversation could go any further, Ginny butted in. "Um, excuse me, but could someone explain for the two of us ignorant pure-bloods?"

Harry grinned at her, as did Hermione and Remus. Ron frowned at his sister, who just stuck her tongue back.

"The Three Fates are a part of Greek Mythology. They were somewhat minor goddesses, who made the decisions on who was to live, for how long, and who was to die." Remus explained. "Typically, Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos were old hags, who all shared a single eye. Human life was represented as threads of yarn, which the Fates were in charge of."

Harry's head snapped up, and his eyes widened. "Of course! The gold thread was me!" When his friends looked at him questioningly, Harry held out his hands and concentrated. In a few seconds, his hands glowed a brilliant gold. "My magical signature is golden. The Three Fates were telling me that I have to weave myself into the Tapestry of Man."

The Marauders were silent about this, pondering Harry's words. Then, something occurred to Hermione. "Harry… In everything I've read about the Three Fates, there's nothing mentioned about a tapestry, much less the Tapestry of Man." She said hesitatingly, making sure that what she was saying was as she remembered.

They watched as the raven-haired teen paced back and forth, looking at his still glowing hands. "Then I guess that means that there's another player in this game." Harry said in a low voice, so low that it was only thanks to his friends' Animagus/werewolf enhanced hearing that they heard him at all.

"Why in the world did we send him that dream, Lace? Remind us again, please."

"Lace" frowned at her two sisters. "He needed to realize what was ahead, and you know it, Clo."

Clo sighed. "Yeah, he did, but are you sure he can figure it out in time? The last time we warned ahead of time, he misinterpreted, and ended up burning Rome. Which was exactly what we warned him against doing, sis."

The third sister looked up and spoke softly. "Clo, Lace, be patient. It will not be like that with Harry. For one, he is smarter, and two, he has smart friends. They will figure it out."

The three sisters were silent, as they concentrated on their jobs. For a few moments, the only sound in the room was the steady whirr of the spinning wheel, the click-clacking of the loom, and the occasional snip of a pair of scissors.

"I think we were too vague." Lace finally spoke up. "May we send another dream, Ros?"

Ros carefully snipped another thread, and sighed. She knew she would get no peace unless they sent another dream to Harry. "What do you think, Clo?"

Clo shrugged her shoulders, even as her fingers nimbly spun a thread together. "Fine with me, as long as someone else gets him."

Lace looked eager. "I'll go! How about tonight, Ros?"

Ros rolled her eyes. "Sure Lace, tonight."

Before Hermione or Remus could think more on what Harry had said, Ginny realized that they had forgotten something very important.

"By the way Harry, Happy Birthday!" She said cheerfully.

Harry looked startled. "My birthday… is it really?" A quick wave of his hand, and he stared at the undeniable date in front of him. July 31st floated in the air in front of Harry in gold, glowing letters and numbers. "Well… I guess I lost track of time…"

Ron snorted. "Gee, I wonder why? Between planning out an attack against Death Eaters and actually kicking their ar… er, tails," He amended at Hermione's glare, and then continued. "I'm not going to blame you for forgetting."

Harry grinned at his friend. "Thanks, Ron."

In the moments that followed, with well-wishes all around and a few presents, Harry left his worries about the Three Fates in the back of his mind.

That night, however, it all came flooding back to him as his dream-self, seven years old, looked at tall grass stems in a seemingly endless field.

"C'mon, Harry! You have to see this!"

Harry saw that there were a few things different this time. First, the girl in front of him had medium-hair, not short hair. Her face was also different… not by much, but enough so that Harry could tell that this wasn't the same girl as before. He also didn't go running off immediately.

"Which one are you? Clotho? Lachesis? Atropos? Why have you brought me here?" Harry demanded, standing firm. In front of him, the girl's hair swung as she pivoted around, her face somewhat… pleased.

She smiled at him. "Ah, so you did figure out who we were. If you follow me, I'll answer those questions." She turned back around, and started running.

Harry was left no choice but to run after her. When he got to the room in the middle of no where, he saw the other two sisters working, the girl from before spinning the thread, and the long haired sister putting the thread in the loom, occasionally cutting a thread from the design.

"Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos, I presume?" Harry asked pleasantly, before any of the sisters could speak. The one who had led him winced as she made her way to the loom.

"Actually, we go by Clo, Lace, and Ros right now. I'm Lace, the one working the spindle is Clo, and Ros is doing the snipping." Lace grinned at him over her shoulder, before turning back to the loom.

Harry was silent for a moment. "Clo, Lace and Ros. Got it. Now what in the blazes am I doing here?"

Ros smiled wryly. "We've come to help you. Dark times are ahead, Harry Potter, and you need to be prepared." She gestured to the middle of the loom. Harry's eyes were drawn to where she waved her hand, and noticed a few differences from last night's dream.

The gold thread, which Harry was sure was him, looked as if it was surrounded by dark, somehow threatening threads. Four threads seemed to be accompanying the golden thread, one orange, one fire-red, one light brown, and the last tarnished silver. Harry realized who these were, and smiled. Then he looked closer. "Let me guess. That pure, black, so dark it almost looks as if it's devouring light thread is Voldemort?"

Clo nodded. "Very good, Harry. We don't have much more time, so you must heed our warnings carefully."

Lace continued. "The time is coming when you will need to make an important choice. Choose wisely, for what is done cannot become undone. The right path is not always the straightest, and the wrong is not always shrouded in the dark. I can only say this; trust in yourself and your abilities so you may know what the right path is."

Before Harry could question, Ros spoke up. "You will be just fine, Harry. Just remember our words. One last thing before you awaken. Trust in your friends as well, Harry. I will not lie and say that everything will be all right, but it will be as well as it can be. Further your abilities, both talents and gifts, so that you may choose wisely."

The three sisters smiled at him, and Harry felt himself drifting away.

Harry swore as he jerked up, breathing heavily and sweating. What in the world did that all mean? He supposed that in the morning, Hermione could help him figure it out, but it was still night. He knew he couldn't get back to sleep so he put on his slippers and quietly exited the room, needing to think.

Ginny sighed, and finally decided to give up the fight for sleep. Ever since she woke up from a nightmare, she couldn't get back to sleep. She wasn't too sure about what was so scary about the nightmare, or any details, but she knew it was scary.

Once out of bed and into her slippers, she shuffled out of the girls' room, making sure she didn't wake Hermione. Ginny closed the door quietly, and turned around. What she saw made her glad she couldn't go to sleep.

Her eyes widened as she saw Harry doing… something that looked vaguely like martial arts, and with a staff. Ginny was sure it was called a kata, or something like that. What made Harry's almost dance-like moves even better, at least to Ginny, was that he was currently shirtless.

She could only watch in awe as his arms and legs moved effortlessly with the staff, each move seemingly overflowing with power. Ginny had a feeling that if he used those against a person, it would send the poor victim flying. And the hit would probably cause a nice big bruise. His face was serene, his eyes closed, and his breathing steady. Each movement he made seemed to flow into the next.

"So, do you like what you see?" Harry's voice made Ginny jump in shock. She hadn't realized he knew she was there. Thankful for the dark, Ginny blushed furiously. She blamed it on teenage hormones.

"I-I'm sorry, it's just that I couldn't sleep, and that was so cool…" Ginny forcefully stopped her babbling. She also ignored the butterflies that were rapidly filling her stomach at the sight of his grin, accompanied with his sweaty, naked torso. Down, girl! She thought furiously to herself.

Harry was amused. "That's okay. I couldn't sleep either." He reassured her.

"Um… do you mind if I ask why you couldn't sleep?" Ginny asked hesitatingly.

A brief war flickered across Harry's features, and he sighed. "Another dream from the Fates. It confused the hell out of me, and I couldn't get back to sleep, so I thought I might as well work out."

Ginny smiled shyly at him. "I had a nightmare. Don't remember what it was about, but I know it was scary."

Harry returned her smile, a hint of empathy on his face. "Ah, I remember those days. When the nightmares were so scary that you woke up screaming and you didn't know what it was about. I wish I could go back to these days…" His smile turned slightly sad.

Ginny understood. "Now that you know what nightmares are made of, it's harder to forget," she agreed softly.

They stood still for a moment, both lost in memories. After a few minutes, Harry sighed. "Well, we're not going to get back to sleep any time soon. Want some tea? I know a very enthusiastic house elf who would love to be called this early in the morning to bring us some." He grinned at her.

Ginny grinned back. "That sounds wonderful."

They talked for a long time over several cups of tea, trying to keep their minds off the nightmares they knew to be real.

AN: Well, it's certainly been a while! How is everyone? Good Christmas, other holidays that I'm too lazy to type out, New Years? Everything's getting better on this side of the computer screen. For those of you who are wondering what all happened with the jerk that stood me up at my senior Homecoming, I saw him today, cussed him out, and was going to slap the crap (hey that rhymed!) out of him, but I realized that I couldn't bear to see his face without nausea rising up in me, and if I touched him, even through a slap, that nausea would probably go up and out. Which would be fitting for him, but I don't like yawning in technicolor (I like that phase better than vomiting...), so I decided not to. Instead I walked out on him. Made me feel kinda at peace, and I'm going to get on with my life. Dual Credit English is... okay, love the reading, not loving the "analyze the reading" part. Oh well. C'est la vie, mon amies.

Just to let you know, my Muse is actually providing me with a good idea of what I want the next chapter to be like, so I might get it up earlier. Don't count on it, because Murphy has it out for me.

I look forward to your questions! (Hopefully I answered a few of yours with this chappie.) 'Til next we meet! (TNWM from now on)

Ceres K.