Delusional

Jessylane318

Harry tried to glance down at the water, in hopes to see his attacker's reflection, but the man obviously realized it and pressed the knife harder.

"Why are you following us boy?"

Gulping down his fear, Harry did the only thing he could think to do. Pushing himself backwards into the man, he pressed his elbow into the groin area and threw his fist upwards, barely missing the jaw and hitting the nose instead. A hot liquid spread across his hand and he stomped on the foot. Harry stumbled away, ignoring his nude state as he scrambled to get his sword.

"Who are-" Harry paused, pulling his glasses to his face and looking at the bowed man. "Strider!"

Harry lowered his blade slightly, but refused to take his eyes off the ranger now nursing his bleeding nose and other more painful areas. Harry was just about to ask the man exactly what the hell he thought he was doing when four midget sized bodies threw themselves against him. Painfully pushing Harry against the ground amongst the pine needles and rocks, a smirking ranger overhead.

"Strider, are you alright?" asked one of the little people atop a naked Harry. He recognized the voice vaguely but couldn't name it. "We heard a shout-"

"And we thought you were in trouble-" rambled another one, Harry felt a pair of feet kick him in the side and grunted. What had he done to deserve this?

"Yes and-"

"Enough," commanded Strider, as he bent down, putting the knife far too close to Harry's throat. "You're to come with us. Grab your clothes. Sam, grab his sword and Merry, you grab his bag." He looked down at Harry, blue eyes darker than the night. "Attempt to run and you will most assuredly die."

With that, he motioned the people atop him to move and Harry, with strained slowness, stood and put on the still wet clothes. Despite the chill, Harry walked as best he could back to the group's camp a good walk away.

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"Why were you following us?" asked Strider once more, his face a hard line.

"Because you were going the same way I was." He replied, the same answer he'd given the last five times. He didn't know why the man kept asking it.

"And how do you know we are 'going the same way?'" the man inquired.

"Because you were moving East." Harry frowned as he heard the hobbits gave a little titter and ate the handsome rabbit. He wanted some, but new better than to ask. They hardly trusted him anyways.

"There are many cities to the East," Strider clarified. "How do you know we are destined for the same one?"

"'Cause," answered Harry in a frustrated tone as he tried to hide a yawn. "I'm not sure which city I'm going to."

"So you admit to following us?"

"Yes," he answered simply.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why were you following us?"

Harry gave out a strangled growl and glared at the man. "Because we were going the same way!"

"You can't be sure of that."

Yes he could, he wanted to say, but Harry simply shut his mouth and pulled his legs closer to him. He heard a rustle and looked to see Mr. Underhill, the vanishing hobbit from Bree, staring at him with a slight frown.

"Mr. Harry, why were you following us?" asked the hobbit.

"Because we were-"

"Then why did you hide?" asked Mr. Underhill, cutting him off. "Why did you not come join us?"

"Because..." he trailed off, unsure. Because they were strangers? Because they could hide themselves so well? Because he didn't want them to hear him scream in the night? "I don't know."

The hobbit gave him sad eyes, as though he knew it was a lie.

"Well, we'd best be getting some sleep," decided a round hobbit with blondish curls. "Strider, do you want one of us to-"

"No," the man said as he backed away and leaned against a tree. "Sleep Sam, we have a long way to travel."

Harry saw them all nod in agreement and sighed softly. He wished his owl, Hedwig, were here, she'd cheer him up for sure. Laying back against the cold ground, Harry tried to remember the snowy owl with her kind yellow eyes.

Slowly, he descended to slumber.

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The darkness was wanning, the thick, putrid smell of death and decay growing stronger and stronger as he ran. It was chasing him, the basilisk with the bloodied eyes. He could hear it behind him, hear it's words as it slithered.

"Kill kill kill"

He ran and ran and ran, and he turned, watched the mouth crash about him, the fang driving into his arm. The poison and Fawke's tears.

Hermione stood before him, her face livid.

"Where are you Harry? Come home! Come home!"

"Come on mate," shouted Ron from the side. "We're waiting for you!"

"But I can't..." he tried to tell them. "My wand, I don't have a wand!"

They both laughed at him, and then they were multiplying. Seamus and Neville and Dean were all laughing as well as Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle. He watched them laugh, watched them point. Watched them blur.

"Harry! Harry!"

"Harry!"

He awoke with a start, his eyes coming open despite the crust around them as he looked up in alarm. He found Strider above him, blue eyes narrowed in confusion and something else.

"What...?" He glanced around to see the entire camp looking at him with fear and confusion.

"You were having a nightmare, Mr. Harry," answered Sam quietly. "Screamin' and shoutin' and all the like. Strider there was trying to wake you but you wouldn't..."

He frowned and nodded, looking down. A tense silence filled the area before Strider pulled himself to his feet, one last uncertain glare towards Harry.

"We leave in five minutes, you'd best pack quickly." And with that, the man faded from sight into the woods.

Hungry, Harry wondered if he should attempt to get food from his bag or ask the hobbits for some. He had no chance to ask for it, though, when Strider came back to make them hurry.