Chapter 1 – Dreaming


Everyone had now left the Great Hall. Only one person remained, still sitting in his seat, staring into space. Dumbledore had been the first to leave, apparently not noticing how badly Harry has been affected by Cedric’s death.    

Harry just sat there, staring off into space, not noticing that he was the only one left.  They would be all packing ready to go home to their families. Harry sighted. He did not want to go back to the Dursleys for another long, miserable summer. All he could feel was anger towards Dumbledore and the others. Anger for failing to believe, that Voldemort had returned from the dead once more. 

While at the Hospital Wing he had been desperately trying to get everyone to believe him. He had shouted, pleaded, cried. But Madam Pomfrey said he had suffered a traumatic experience and believed it was just his mind playing tricks on him. She thought he had finally gone mad. 

The Ministry of Magic believed that Wormtail and some remaining Death Eaters had attacked him, and Cedric. When Harry told them there had been a number of Death Eaters involved, including Voldemort himself, no one had believed him. 

Dumbledore had been present while he had tried to explain what happened.  Madam Pomfrey had made them all leave, as he had gotten hysterical.  Shouting out to everyone of Voldemort’s return.  She had given him a sleeping potion. Two unknowing healers had been necessary to hold him down.  

The next morning Harry had woken up in an empty Hospital Wing. Pushing back the bed covers, he got dressed into his uniform and robes and made his way to the Great Hall. Hermione and Ron where just walking in.

“Oh Harry! Are you supposed to be here? Have you had a clean bill of health from Madam Pomfrey?” 

“Leave it off,” said Ron, glaring at Hermione. “I told you, Harry wouldn’t want to miss his friend’s funeral.”

“Oh, but…” Hermione began to say, but Ron interrupted.

“Leave it, Hermione!” Ron said irritated, standing next to Harry and putting his arm around his shoulders. 

Harry shrugged Ron’s arm off, ignored the hurt look and walked through the entrance into the Great Hall, ignoring the stares and whispers as he walked by.

Mr. Diggory’s angry glare at Harry went unnoticed. So did the worried and concerned look he was receiving from Madam Pomfrey. 

Dinner was over shortly. Before everybody got up, Harry stood up slowly and numbly made his way to the Gryffindor dormitory. Love, sadness, the shock of seeing Voldemort again, all these feelings had vanished. All Harry could feel now was the desperate need for revenge against Voldemort and his followers and anger towards Dumbledore for not believing him. He felt abandoned by the Headmaster. Just when he needed him most, but the headmaster did have other responsibilities.  And he was just another responsibility. 

While packing away his clothes and belongings, Harry thought that he was probably too busy getting ready to leave for the summer. Ron and Hermione where the only ones who believe him, but he couldn’t involve them any more, not after what happened to Cedric. He had died just because Voldemort wanted to get to Harry.  Cedric just got in the way of whom Voldemort had wanted the most.  

He knew he could not involve anybody else. “I can’t let anyone else die!” he said out loud.  

Once Harry had packed, he made his way to the castle entrance where he found Ron and Hermione waiting for him. 

He felt like he needed to say something, to apologise, maybe. But they smiled at him, and he knew they understood. 

Together, they reached the platform and boarded the train. Harry felt disappointed.  Dumbledore had not come to see him, not after the funeral nor before he left the castle.

Harry, Ron and Hermione found a compartment with Fred, George and Neville already waiting for them. Harry entered first and put away his belongings and sat closest to the window without a word to the others. He started staring out of the windows.  

In the reflection of the window Harry saw how Ron sat down next to him, and with a small hesitation Hermione next to Ron. Fred and George sat on the other side next to Neville, who was reading a small book. Ignoring them, Harry just went back to staring out of the window.  The compartment was really hot and it was making him feel nauseous.  Taking off his cloak he leaned back on his chair and fell into a deep sleep.

“Harry!”

Opening his eyes Harry found himself surrounded by thick fog.  Hermione’s voice echoed around him. He couldn’t see her anywhere.

“Hermione! I can’t see you, where are you?” He called. No answer. 

Just moments ago he had been sitting in the over-warm compartment. Now he was standing in seemingly endless blackness, his body surrounded by thick fog. 

It was cold. Harry started rubbing his arms to try and keep warm. Reaching out, he tried to wave the fog away, but it wouldn’t move. In fact, more appeared. Stepping forward, Harry tried to walk through the fog, but it felt as if it was stopping him from doing so. His feet wouldn’t move when he tried to step through it, as if he was paralysed.  

“Harry!” Hermione’s voice called in the distance. “Harry? Please wake up!” She sounded desperate. 

Suddenly the fog began to clear away and he could see the shape of someone bending down in front of him.

PATS! Someone slapped him in the face. Blinking, Harry found himself sitting half-on half-off the seat on the Hogwarts Express. Hermione was bending down before him, staring at his face, looking concerned.

Sitting in an upright position, Harry looked around and noticed everyone was staring at him with concern. He noticed Neville was nowhere to be seen, and Ron was standing at the compartment door, looking at him strangely. 

“Hermione? What happened? Was that you calling me?” Harry asked.
“You where sleeping with your eye’s open and not responding to any of my calls. Neville has gone to-”

She was cut short when the door to the compartment opened and Professor McGonagall entered, closely followed by Neville.  

“What seems to be the problem?” Professor McGonagall asked, glancing at everyone in turn. She noticed that they all looked concerned. Potter looked rather pale and shaken. No one said anything.

“Nothing is wrong. I just fell asleep, Professor,” said Harry who was staring at his feet to avoid her eyes.

“But he wasn’t responding to any of my call’s for at least fifteen minutes or longer, Professor,” Hermione said, standing tall. Ron had also moved to stand next to her and Fred and George where both nodding their heads.

“Well, that is common if you are asleep. Now if you would all like to get ready, the train is near the station. And do please inform me when there is a real emergency!” With that, Professor McGonagall turned and walked out closing the compartment door behind her.

Sighing, Harry sat back in his seat and stared out of the window, avoiding everyone’s eyes.

“Harry, why did you do that? Why didn’t you tell McGonagall? You do look pale,” Hermione said, folding her arms. Ron sat back down next to Harry.

Harry’s frustration suddenly found an exit. “I said I fell asleep! I don’t need your help! My friend Cedric has just died! You remember him, don’t you?”  Harry yelled at her.

“Why don’t you speak to-” Ron started to say, but before he could continue Harry cut him off in mid sentence.

“No, I mean it! I don’t need any of your help and I don’t want to be friends with someone who gets jealous of all the unwanted attention his friend gets!”

Harry got up, grabbed his cloak and trunk, and stormed out of the compartment as the train began to slow down.

In the next compartment, sitting beside Dean, Ginny saw Harry storm passed the compartment looking angry and pale, dragging his belongings. 

This confused her. Why was he alone? Where were the others from his compartment? 

The train had now slowed to a complete stop. Ginny got up and walked over to the door, but Harry had already disappeared through the train’s narrow door.  

Outside, Harry seethed with rage and frustration. Passing through the invisible barrier, he hoped he could just make it to the entrance without the Dursleys seeing him…

Unfortunately they had already spotted him. Damn it, too late. His Aunt Petunia was standing closely to Uncle Vernon and their overweight son Dudley was cowering behind them. With a curt wave to the car, the Dursleys moved away from the station.  

Dreading going back to the Dursley’s house for the summer. Harry reluctantly followed them out of the station to the car.

Back on the train, Ginny turned to face the boy that just called her name. 

“Yes Dean?” Ginny said irritably, looking at him with a frown.

“You need to get ready. You don’t want to miss the stop.”

“I know, I just wanted to say goodbye to Harry,” said Ginny, who closed the door and gathered her belongings. Just as she was opening the door again, an upset Hermione, an angry Ron, a worried Neville and Fred and George, who both looked shocked, hurriedly walked past. 

“What happened?” asked Ginny. 

“They had an argument with Harry,” Fred called back.

Oh, no! This is all, Harry needs right now. Ginny shook her head. He’s going back to stay with those horrible relatives and his friend Cedric has died. Can’t they see he’s upset?

Pulling her trunk with her, Ginny turned round, walked over to Dean, and gave him a quick hug, saying, “I need to catch up with the others.” She rushed off before Dean could say anything.

As Ginny had reached the others on the platform, Ron was looking around for Harry.  Fred and George were standing next to him. Neville was standing beside Hermione.  Nearer the end of term it was decided that Neville would stay at the Burrow for a few weeks, approved by Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. His grandma was ill; she had fallen at home and had broken her hip. She would be staying at St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries until it has healed. 

“Where is Harry? Your father needs a word with him,” Mrs. Weasly said.

“He’s already away with the Dursleys,” Ginny said; as she was standing close to her father “I was hoping to say goodbye…”

“Everyone grab a hold of this port key”.  

Feeling the familiar tug, Ginny closed her eyes and clung onto her dad and waited for the weird feeling to pass. When she opened her eyes again she could see the kitchen table. They had all appeared into their kitchen.  

Helping the girl’s take their trunks up to their rooms, Fred and George went straight to their room, slamming their door shut. Ron went to his room, with Neville closely following behind.  

Harry felt miserable. The drive back to the Dursleys house was quiet, with only Vernon Dursley giving Harry the usual warning: “I don’t want any of your funny business happening around the house!” 

When they arrived at Privet Drive, they didn’t help him with his trunk. Instead, he had to tug it all up to his room by himself. He stayed in his room, lying flat on his back on top of his covers, still dressed and not bothering to go down to dinner. The Dursley’s didn’t mind.

“Avada Kedavra!” a voice screeched into the night.

Green light blazed through Harry’s eyelids. Once again he saw Cedric’s body lying spread-eagled on the ground beside him. For what seemed like an eternity Harry stared into Cedric’s face, at his blank and expressionless eyes and half opened mouth. He wanted to scream. It could not happen, not like this.

Jolting awake, Harry could feel sweat running down his face. Breathing hard, he reached over to pick up his glasses, but he realized he still had them on. With shaking hands, Harry quietly made his way to the bathroom.  

Turning on the tap and removing his glasses, he splashed his face with cold-water. Slowly he was beginning to calm down. Every night since witnessing the death of Cedric he had these same nightmares and he woke up all hours during the night.  

He walked back into his room and quietly closed the door, careful to not wake the Dursleys. Harry glanced out of the window, noticing it was still dark outside.  Heading over to his desk and retrieving his watch he saw it was one forty-eight in the morning.  

Having calmed down a bit, he climbed back into bed but didn’t want to fall asleep and have the awful nightmare again.  Harry pulled back the covers and lay staring at the darkness. Forgetting to take off his glasses and unable to keep his eyes open as exhaustion got the better of him and he drifted away into asleep.

Stirring in his sleep, Harry felt something cold and soft brush against his face.  

He brushed it away with his hand as he drifted off again. It didn’t go away; whatever it was continued to brush against his face. Opening his eyes, Harry was fearful it was the same nightmare he always had. Recognising it was fog that was clouding his vision; he tried to brush away the fog with his hands to see. It was no use. More fog would appear. Harry checked to see if he could move as he couldn’t move when he had had the same dream before on the train. Fortunately he was able to move. Quickly standing up, Harry went to grab his wand from his pocket, but remembered he had left it in his trunk. 

Looking around, he had been lying on a black, never-ending floor, which had thick grey fog slowly swirling around his ankles. The place seemed deserted, just a grey foggy floor and bright white light shinning far above his head. 

“Hello? Anyone here?” He asked.

No one answered him.  

Am I dreaming? He thought. He closed his eyes, and waited a couple of seconds.  That didn’t help either.

“Damn, what is going on?” he asked loudly.  

Sighing, Harry sat down cross-legged on the floor; touching the fog.  Strangely, it didn’t seem as cold anymore. Feeling a calming sensation washing through him, Harry closed his eyes and he felt fully relaxed. 

Suddenly, he felt the atmosphere change around him. Opening his eyes, he found himself sitting cross-legged on his bed. Blinking, Harry looked around. Everything was the same: his trunk lay at the foot of his bed, unpacked since he had arrived the day before. It was now Tuesday, the second day of the long miserable summer holidays back at the Dursleys. 

Picking up his watch, Harry saw that the time was now six thirty-five in the morning.  Strange, he thought. Harry hadn’t felt so relaxed in a long time.  

Getting up and going over to his trunk, Harry pulled out fresh clothes. Jeans,
White t-shirt, boxers, and socks. Silently opening his door, he walked quietly down stairs and grabbed some bread and ham out of the fridge. Walking as quickly and quietly as possible, he had just made it to his room when he heard Uncle Vernon Dursley getting up.  

Since Harry had gone back to Number 4 Privet Drive for the summer, the Dursleys have been ignoring him. Aunt Petunia had left a plate of food at his door when he hadn’t gone down to dinner the night before. The proportions she gave him were far too small. Quickly eating the bread and ham, he felt better. Not wanting to face the Dursleys at breakfast, Harry stood listening to the others, who now were all up and going down stairs.  

Sighing, Harry walked over to his desk and sat down, looking out the window. He saw that it was going to be another hot summer’s day and he wouldn’t be allowed outside. There was a knock on the door, but Harry just ignored it. He could hear Petunia leaving a breakfast tray outside. 

Still hungry, he got up and walked over to the door where he listened to the footsteps going back down stairs. He opened his door and brought the tray in. Looking at it, he saw there was a bowl of porridge that wasn’t even enough to keep him going until lunchtime, and was glad he had eaten the bread and ham.  

Putting the tray of porridge and a cup of water on his writing desk, Harry sat down and ate. Just as he was setting the tray aside, loud footsteps came thundering up the stairs. Uncle Vernon Dursley came barging in his room, red in the face. 

“Boy, you are not to leave the house while we are out,” he snarled at him. 

“Like I have anywhere to go,” Harry said bitterly.

“Less of your cheek, boy,” Vernon snarled, his cheeks turning slightly purple.  He turned around and stormed out of Harry’s room without closing the door.

Harry got up and closed his door; just a he heard the front door slam shut. The Dursleys had all gone out. His Aunt Petunia and over weight cousin, Dudley must have gone to visit some friend’s for the day.  

Still tired from not having much sleep since Cedric’s death, Harry walked to his bed and flopped down, burying his face in the pillow. Turning around, Harry stared at the ceiling. Closing his eyes, he soon fell asleep. Feeling slightly cold, Harry rolled over to get under the covers. As he reached out for the bed cover, he felt nothing but air. Feeling all over with his hand, there was still no bed cover. Harry opened his eyes and found himself back in the eerie nightmare with the endless foggy floor and white light far above him. Quickly closing his eyes and opening them again, Harry found himself back lying on his bed. Blinking, he found himself back in the dream.

Harry suddenly felt something cold and soft touch his hands that where placed by his sides. He gasped when he saw that the fog had risen from the floor, still rising. His instincts told him to leave, but as he tried to move, he found that it was impossible.  The fog had now reached his chest, and before he could try to move again, the fog had risen before his eyes and above his head.  

Beginning to feel scared, Harry closed his eyes, wanting this nightmare to be over.  He opened them again and saw that the fog was still all around him. He found that he could move a little but not walk; it was as if his feet were glued to the ground.

Though the fog that was now clearing, away Harry felt a cold chill run down his spine. 

He realised that he wasn’t in the foggy floor nightmare or in bed at the Dursleys any more.