Chapter V

The Truth of the Nightmare

Harry found himself exhausted at the end of the day. So much so that he grabbed a small bite from the great hall and walked with it back up to his room. The novelty of his arrival had yet to wear off as many students turned to look at him walk up the Grand Staircase.

When he arrived to his room, he threw his teaching materials on the table and got ready for bed. While the clock only read seven in the evening, it felt like midnight to him. After getting his bed clothes on, he got in bed and drifted off to sleep almost instantly.

His eyes closed to reveal blackness. Once his mind and body were settled the blackness began to dissipate. The air around him suddenly became colder as the world around him transformed.

A bluish light fell upon the environment and became brighter as the light began to reveal a large cemetery. Several large tombstones surrounded Harry and many more went off into the distance.

While surprised on where he found himself, he knew that it was a place that he had been to before.

While each grave was fairly large, one in the distance stood out amongst all of them and looked strikingly familiar to Harry. It towered over all of the headstones and was intimidating as it was silhouetted in the moonlight.

Harry felt attracted to it as he began to walk towards. As he walked closer, it became more revealed. The headstone contained a figure; a figure that became easily recognizable once he saw the scythe in its right hand. Harry soon found himself eye to eye with the Angel of Death gravestone representing the Riddle family, where is arched nemesis Tom Riddle and his parents rested.

A chill went up Harry's spine as he stood next to it. In the years after the fall of Riddle, he had made a promise to himself to never step foot near the grave itself as it represented nothing but pure evil to him.

The previous time Harry had seen the tombstone, he had been tied to it by Voldemort himself. He was tortured, made fun of, and nearly killed by him.

"Harry Potter," the slithering voice of Voldemort rang from behind him.

Desperate, he turned immediately. He turned to see the familiar, black robed, bald headed, slit nosed, and white faced figure that he had killed years ago. The man who had killed his parents and had tried to kill him of several occasions years after, Tom Riddle.

Harry reached for his wand quickly but only to find it nowhere in sight.

"As much as I would like there to be," Voldemort said in his usual whisper. "You have nothing to fear hear Harry. After all, given the circumstances, maybe it should be me fearing you."

"What is this?" Harry asked. "Why am I here? Why are you here?"

"What's the matter Harry?" Voldemort asked with a slither in his voice. "Did you honestly expect, after all of these years, that you would never be face to face with me again, either physically or mentally? I would have expected after so much, you would have learned to expect more."

"I watched you die," Harry explained.

"Harry, harry," Riddle said with a sarcastic tone. "As your wretched Dumbledore so affectionately told me years ago, there are many things worse than death. There aren't many things I can really take from him as useful but I would be lying if I said he wasn't correct.

"You see Harry, while you might have killed me and ripped me from the body I so obsessively clung to, you failed on many levels that you are not yet aware of." Harry got ready to speak but Riddle cut him off. "Oh, you need not worry what I'm spitting out to you now. No, you will soon find out what I mean."

Riddle than lunged at Harry, whom braced himself for contact but he suddenly stopped only inches from Harry. His read stared down at him with fury.

"You might have crippled me Harry," he said bitterly. "But I will do all that is left of my power to make sure that you suffer a fate far greater than you ever imagined. Goodbye Harry…for now."

Harry began to hear a banging in his ears as Riddle walked away, his image become more obscure as he grew further from him. The world around began to crumble back into blackness as the noise became far more clear in tone. He felt his body leave the grassy ground of the cemetery and land back on the bed he had fallen asleep.

He woke up in a sweat and immediately opened his eyes to see his room and relief struck him as he realized he only experienced a nightmare. As he began to settle down from his nightmare, the banging appeared once more. It turned out to be a knock on his door.

He looked out the window to see that the sun had not yet come up. He ran to the door and opened it to reveal Lungdren at his door again.

"Hello Harry," he said. "How are you doing this morning?"

"Fine," Harry lied quickly but keeping himself upbeat. "What time is it?"

"Sad to say, it's only four in the morning," Lungdren replied. "But I wanted to get you before everyone else woke up."
"Is everything okay?" Harry asked.

"Yes," Lungdren replied. "But there are two people looking to speak with you in my office and they will not wait any further. So, if you can get ready Harry and follow me up to my office."
"Yes," Harry replied. He got ready at a quick pace and met Lungdren out in the hallway and they walked to the Headmaster's Office.

"So, how was your first day of teaching?" Lundgren asked during their walk.
"It went okay," Harry replied. "It bit overwhelming at first but I got used to it."

"I'm glad," Lungdren said enthusiastically. "That's how I was when I first became Headmaster. It's tough seeing all of those eyes on you for the first time, whether it be first or seventh years. So much responsibility to accept but it became second nature after that."

They both shared stories about their experiences as they reached the entrance to the Headmaster's Office. The gargoyle that Harry knew all too well still remained as the guard of the entrance. Lungdren gave a nod to the gargoyle, which slowly moved to its left to allow Lundren and Harry access.

Harry began to walk towards the stares but Lungdren remained still. Harry turned towards him curiously.

"I'm afraid I must sit this one out," he said. "You are wanted on request and I was asked not to take part of it." He smiled though as he said, leaving Harry to walk up to the office by himself.

When he reached the top of the staircase, he was eye to with the familiar large door, leading the office. He had not walked through this door since the end of the war. He reached for the door handle but hesitated, taking as large of a breath as he could before walking in.

He opened the door and was greeted by the large and beautiful office. Its appearance had not changed at all. It looked exactly how it did in Harry's memory. Every book in its place, the cabinet to the Pensieve remained in place, and the Headmaster's desk remained in its same spot. It several steps above the rest of the room, giving it an intimidating look. This look had slightly frightened Harry in his youth and still had a marginal effect on him in his adult age.

Harry couldn't help but notice something strange when he walked in though; he was alone. He had been sent up here to meet somebody and yet the office was empty and quiet.

"Hello Harry," a voice said, breaking the silence. It was the unmistakable voice of Albus Dumbledore.

Harry searched in the direction on where the voice came from. The noise came from behind the desk. Harry walked up the steps and the more he walked, the more the photo of Dumbledore came into view.

Dumbledore's portrait had his old Headmaster against a large bookcase with a large red armchair in front it. Dumbledore was dressed in all white robes with his long grey hair brushed back and beard brushed neatly down.

"I'm glad you've come," he continued. "I assume, like always, that you wonder why I summoned you?"

"It wouldn't be tradition if I didn't," he said, smiling back.

"Well, as Neville and Lungdren have surely told you, Severus and I petitioned to get you here," Dumbledore explained. "I must admit though, I was half expecting you to reject the offer."

Harry sat in the small chair in front of the Headmaster's desk and stared up at Dumbledore. "I don't understand, after all this time…why now?"

When Harry sat down, Dumbledore sat down as well in the large armchair. Harry felt as though he were back at Hogwarts as a student, talking to Dumbledore when he was Headmaster.

"That's actually part of the answer Harry…time," Dumbledore explained. "Over twenty years ago, you and friends brought an end to the Dark Lord or as you and I knew him, Tom Riddle. Within the years between that day and now, the wizarding world has been at peace. However, I have a feeling that you, just like me, know that things change within time."

Harry stared up at Dumbledore with curiosity.

"Oh yes Harry, I know what you've been feeling," Dumbledore said. "I know what you've been dreaming. I also know that you know why I brought you here this year."

"Is peace over?" Harry asked.

"Unfortunately, I cannot answer that Harry," Dumbledore replied. "You above mostly everyone else know what both paths consist of and you know what it will take to break one of them."

"What can I do though?"

"Help," Dumbledore replied simply. "Even though there might be a chance that nothing can change, why deprive young minds from knowing how to protect themselves from the dark forces that may still exist out there."

"What if I can't help?"

"You will," Dumbledore said. "As long as you believe and as long as you with love, you will be fine."

Dumbledore's solution to most problems relied on love. Harry's only hope was that it was the only solution because he was not sure if he could conjure up anything else.