Dreams
Harry walked through the graveyard, the night was dark and the air was cold. He recognized it almost immediately as his mother and father's graveyard. He walked on, unable to see anything other than the graves on either side of him.
He was walking to his parent's grave, he knew it, yet he didn't know why. He was getting closer now; he put his hands in his pockets, looking at the grass ahead of him.
He stopped. He saw the bottom of a cloak, only just touching the grass. Harry looked up, and saw its head was covered. It stared intently at his mother's grave, its bone-like hands clasped in front of him. Harry could only hear his breathing, which was getting heavier by the second. He was unable to move, his feet fixed on the ground, slowly the cloaked man's head turned to him, his face still unable to see. It unclasped its hands and raised them to its face, pulling the cloak down out of its eyes.
"Come Harry," said Voldemort, "end it now."
Harry sat straight up in his bed, his forehead drenched in sweat and his scar throbbing. He wiped the sweat off his brow and leant back into the bed, not closing his eyes. He breathed deeply, feeling his heart beat rapidly in his chest.
"You ok Harry?" Whispered Neville,
"Yeah," he said, touching his scar, Neville nodded, laying back into his bed again.
The next morning, he said nothing to any of his friends about the dream. All of them had enough on their hands with almost all the school hating them. Neville was now supporting them; he felt bad having ever thought they would have joined forces with Voldemort. Harry walked to his Herbology class, it was hard to believe they were doing something as normal as a class with the battle only a stone throw away. No one seemed to know anything about it; they were more concerned about talking behind their hands and elbowing him as they passed.
When a passing third year, on the way down to Hagrid's hut elbowed him in the ribs, Harry paused for a second, he balled his hand that wasn't holding his books and shut his eyes. He walked on, or though his chest throbbed slightly. He continued to walk to the greenhouse, ignoring the loud, rude whispers from the other students. He sighed; it would all be over soon. They entered the greenhouse, to find almost a forest had grown in it, they paused, not sure what to do. There was a small hole between the floor and where the branches reached out.
"Uh, what do we do?" Asked Ron, right then his question was answered,
"Come in dears," came the voice of Professor Sprout, Harry shrugged and got down on all fours, crawling under the door. He felt something tug at his foot,
"What Ron?"
"Hmm?" Came the voice of Ron,
"Did you tug on my foot?"
"No," came Ron's voice again,
"Hermione?"
"What am I? Five?" She said sarcastically, Harry rolled his eyes and stood up wiping the dirt from his robes. There was a small hole where Professor Spout stood, a few students with her.
"Now, as you can see, this plant has gotten a little excited with the fertilizer I have been using,"
"You don't say," said Ron looking around the room of green, the roots coming from the ceiling, floor and walls.
"Yes, well, I can't use this greenhouse so I thought you might be able to clean it up,"
"Why?" Asked Hermione, "it couldn't be difficult,"
"Yeah, just get a chainsaw," said Harry, a few people looked at him, confused.
"Well, let's just say these tree fights back," she replied. Harry frowned and looked at Ron, who looked back, one eyebrow raised. "You will need these," she said, passing them all weed killer. "Now, does anyone know what this plant is called?" No one raised their hand, not even Hermione.
"No one?" She said, "very well, this is the Usine De Combat, it was discovered in France, the translation is 'fight plant,' it is very useful," she said looking around, "in moderation," she smiled.
"It grows extremely quickly, and seeming this is the first one we had at Hogwarts I was not completely sure as to how to treat it. So… what are you all waiting for!" She said; the students rocked on their feet for a second, not sure if she was truly serious. Harry shrugged and turned to the plant.
That night Harry found it hard to sleep, he was thinking continuously about the dream he had the previous night. It was odd, but perhaps it was only a dream. His eyes were heavy, but his brain refused to shut down. So he lay there, staring at the ceiling before he was too tired to move a muscle, and he slowly drifted to sleep.
He was in the graveyard again; Voldemort's eyes the only thing able to see through the hood. Harry shuddered at the cold; the clouds were getting low,
"Come Harry," said Voldemort with an evil grimace,
"Why?" Asked Harry, not daring to show any fear in his voice, he talked almost casually,
"Don't you think it is time yet? To end it all, that is what you want is it not?"
"It is,"
"Then why not come? I am here in waiting," Voldemort lowered his cape to reveal his grotesque head. "Come alone," he said,
"Why?" Asked Harry,
"You know why," said Voldemort, "you do not wish to hurt any of your friends now do you? I shall also only bring myself,"
"How do I know you will keep your part?" Asked Harry,
"You will just have to trust me," he said, more as a threat than anything else,
"I can not trust you Voldemort, you know that," said Harry, equaling his tone,
"Let us duel, and find who is the stronger of the two, finish it fairly," Voldemort said with a smirk, they paused and stared at each other,
"Why the graveyard?" Voldemort leered and the dream ended.
Harry awoke, the dream still firmly planted in his head, he didn't know what he was doing, just that it felt right. He jumped out of his bed, quietly so he wouldn't wake the others and dressed. He grabbed ink a quill and parchment from his bed-side table. He dipped the quill into the ink,
Dear Ginny,
He wrote, pausing, the ink threatening to drip onto the white parchment. He didn't know where to go from here, so he just lowered his quill and wrote:
There is a recurring dream I have been having, of the graveyard, my parents graveyard, Voldemort.
I had the dream just this night again, and I have to go alone.
I know you might be thinking this is a pride thing but it isn't. I don't want to loose you;
just you being with me has put you in danger. Voldemort would target you,
as he know that you are the way to destroy me, and I know he knows it.
Tell Ron and Hermione, I am going to finish this on my own.
I love you,
Harry
He re-read it once before folding it in half before getting it to go to Ginny's bedside. He gathered all his supplies and left the Gryffindor Common Room in a hurry.
Ginny
Ginny awoke with a start, a horrible feeling in her stomach like she was falling off her bed, even though she was dead in the centre. She shook her head and yawned, stretching her arms above her head and closing her eyes.
Her hand brushed past the table to her right, for a split second she felt paper. Curiosity filled her and she opened her eyes once more, they adjusted quickly. She grabbed the note, opening it in the darkness.
As she read it, she sat up straighter; she checked her watch and wondered how far ahead he was of her. On the verge of tears she ran over to Hermione's bedside, shaking her, she saw her friends eyes open slightly, and so she shoved the note into her hand.
Hermione opened it as Ginny hurriedly dressed. She read it in a split second and jumped off her bed as if she had been hit with an electric tazer. She dropped the note and dressed also, they ran down the stairs, not uttering a word to each other until they reached the bottom.
"Contact the-" began Ginny,
"Order, right," said Hermione rushing out of the room. Ginny ran up the stairs,
"Out of bed Ron, Harry is in trouble," Ron raised his sleepy head,
"Wa?" He said, "Whozzintrouble?" He asked,
"Ron this is serious!" Said Ginny desperately, a tear falling down her cheek at the thought of Harry; Ron looked very seriously at his sister and he knew straight away something was deadly wrong, he jumped out of bed. Ginny ran back down the stairs, not sure what to do with herself; too preoccupied to cry she pushed the tear she shed earlier away and a thought sprung to her mind,
"DA," she said to herself, running up the stairs again.
Harry took a deep breath in, it was pitch black, the only light the half moon, brighter and larger than usual. He pushed open the creaky gate, observing the graveyard, the stones casting eerily long shadows onto their neighbour. His heart beat in his chest, as he walked closer and closer to where he saw Voldemort in his dream. He stopped when he saw the figure standing, staring at him.It'scape slightly drifting in the wind.Voldemort sneered.
Yes, I know it is a short chapter, believe me when I say I wanted to give you a longer one, but I knew that was where I was to end it. The next chapter, the fight, I promise it shall be long! It kind of has to be with all the stuff that happens. Hope you will all review. And again, my apologies for how short this one was.
Pheonixxsong