III

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Harry's footsteps echoed largely in the hallways as he walked, occasionally stopping to stretch and/or yawn becoming the norm. "I hope I can remember the password," he muttered to himself, adjusting his glasses for the fiftieth time that day as he continued on. Thankfully, his office was only on the third floor, near the Defense Against the Dark Arts classrooms. His robes billowed behind him as he walked, finding it just a tad bit strange that no one was in the hallway, going to and from classes. However, as the teen reached the stone gargoyle, he stopped dead in his tracks. He could hear Snape talking. Harry leaned forward, ear nearly pressed to the stone, he receiving a scowl from the stone 'ornament'. He grumbled. "Fine, fine... Don't be snippy about it."

'Sir, these dreams have become more than a bit inappropriate.'

'Severus, I highly doubt that, in Harry's terms, your shared dreams are, in actuality, going to go past anything but a nice, warm embrace.'

'Why do I see them? Albus, please explain this to me. I have, honestly, tried occlumency, but the damn kid keeps forcing himself through.'

He raised an eyebrow. What was this, now? Sharing... Occlumency... Inappropriate? Harry stepped a bit back, throughly stunned. Just then did a few more words occur, though they were inaudible, at least to where Harry was standing at this point. As the rocks reformed themselves, and a staircase was revealed where the gargoyle was, Harry began to walk forward upon placing his things on the floor, running into his infamous potions master for the third time that day. "Er... Hello, professor," he forced. Snape, again, scowled, pushing past him. "Ergh..." Harry shivered inwardly for a moment as he began up the steps, awkwardly meeting Dumbledore's eye. The older man was sitting at his desk, arms folded quite nicely on his desk. He motioned for Harry to sit down in one of the rather soft looking chairs.

"Lemon drop, Harry?"

"Er, no thanks," Harry replied, smiling lightly. "Sir, I just he..."

"Ah. The conversation between me and Severus." Not for the first time in this year, or during the two years he had attended this school had the man been able to stun him speechless. "I suppose you were listening?" Harry fell silent for a moment. A light smile appeared on his headmaster's face.

"Yes, sir," Harry admitted, "Though it's strange. Why... Okay, why am I having these dreams? They're really beginning to scare me. I mean, they're nice and all, but recurring every night for a week straight would make anyone begin to wonder." Dumbledore leaned back in his chair.

"Harry, I've not an idea as to why your dreams are connected, but... I'd honestly start looking out a bit more. Not to scare you, though things like this really do not start without a cause. So, they started a week ago, you say?" Harry nodded, and the other shook his head. At this point, Harry looked around, taking a special note that the portraits were indeed muttering about their conversation. He shot a glare, but it didn't do very much.

"Yes, about a week ago. Thank you, sir."

"Any time, Harry. Oh, and do have a nice day, will you?"

Harry nodded. The staircase reformed itself yet again, and he stood, finding himself quite comfortable and unwilling to get up. However, upon doing so, he heard a faint mutter from the old man: 'So strange...'. Harry forced himself not to think about it as he indeed walked down the steps, almost falling from where he stood as the gargoyle appeared once more. Of course, he nearly had forgotten that his things were against the wall, and he picked them up. "This is getting ridiculous," Harry muttered to himself, replacing the bag over his shoulders. It was a bit heavy, he noticed. And, he began walking down the hallway and steps to Transfiguration. Again, it thankfully wasn't far, because it was on the first floor. "Why is it so quiet? Usually I hear explosions..."

The teen was proven a point as he entered the classroom. Everyone was taking a test, one that he had completely forgotten amongst the mumble-jumble of everything. Upon finding an empty seat, he placed his things down quietly, and made his way to McGonagall's desk. "I was talking to—" McGonagall cut him off.

"I understand, Mr. Potter. This period is nearly done with, so I do expect you here to make it up on Saturday. Do you understand?" Harry nodded quickly. "Good. To your seat, Mr. Potter." Harry turned, finding himself quite quick to get to his desk. He got few looks, which was an immensely good thing, because it meant less questions. Now to think about what he hard between Snape and Dumbledore... He groaned silently, head falling quietly onto the desk. He really needed to sleep...

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WOWTWELVE.

Twelve reviews, five-hundred fourty-six views, one c2, one favorite and thirteen alerts! Damn, this is my first story to reach that far.

Whod've known?

Anyways, as I said, keep reviewing, I keep writing.