Disclaimer: I own nothing of this. I’m just having fun using JKR’s characters and my imagination. I’m not making any money out of it, and no copyright violation is intended.

Dedicatory: To all those who have stuck with me, but specially to lisa_lovegood and Phoenix3 for waiting for this so [im]patiently :)







"Starlight Dreams"



Old wounds, new beginnings - Chapter 1



Harry roamed through his closet, trying to find that little thing that had become so important to him while trying to remember where he had left it. He had been searching it for more than an hour now, and yet, he hadn’t had any success so far. He was growing desperate, as he once again found nothing amongst a pile of oversized shirts that were lying motionless in the floor. His room was completely disordered after suffering a complete and thorough search. The sheets of his bed had been ripped off, his trunk’s contents turned over, and all of Dudley’s old toys had been moved numerous times. His messy jet-black hair was untamable as usual while he ran his hand through it, annoyed.


A white owl was patiently standing on his bed’s headboard, waiting for her master to finish his useless quest. He scratched his nose, making an account of his last days in Privet Drive. It had not been until a few hours ago, whilst lying on his bed, that he had noticed it missing. Lately, he had been spending a lot of time on that spot. He had tried numerous times to occupy his mind with other things, but in the end, his thoughts always floated back to Sirius, his godfather.


He shook his head as if to clear it from the sombre thoughts and focused back on his quest. At second thought, he didn’t know why he was so stubborn to have at all times that picture somewhere near him. It was, after all, only a picture. A weak smile appeared on his face. Yes, but it is a picture of my best friends. Harry could still remember when Cho Chang had entered his compartment at the beginning of his fifth year. In that time, he had wished to be found with more cool people, immersed in an intelligent conversation. Now, however, he couldn’t think anyone else he would rather be. Yes, Luna could be very… peculiar, and Neville wasn’t exactly the most skilled with a wand. But he had gotten to know their hidden faces. The ones no one every really saw because no one really cared.


Scanning the room one more time, Harry thought sombrely that of all the places where the picture could have been lost, it had to be Privet Drive. He grimaced at the thought of what Uncle Vernon would do if he were to find the picture.


He sighed deeply as he sat on the floor, careless of the mess around him. He was too tired to keep searching, and the sun had long ago disappeared behind his window. Hedwig flew across the room to rest on his shoulder in an attempt to comfort Harry. He gently caressed Hedwig as he stared off into space, thinking of his best friends: Ron, Hermione, and just recently, Ginny, Neville and Luna. They had all been with him at the end of the last year, facing danger and death without wavering back. This was a thought that made him feel both happy and guilty at the same time.


That simple thought summoned darker ones, and memories of his godfather once again flooded his mind. He had just tried to help Sirius; he didn’t mean to get him killed. Fat lot of good that did, Harry thought bitterly, fighting the lump forming in his throat. He forced his mind back to the present.


No, he couldn’t grieve. He couldn’t afford such luxury yet. He had the prophecy ahead of him, and if he wanted to live, Harry would need his mind fully set into it without looking back. There would be time to mourn later. After all, all the fallen ones need someone to cry for them.


It had also taught him a valuable lesson. After long hours of deep reflection while the room sank into the inevitable darkness, Harry had realized that his emotions were becoming his weakness. Voldemort knew it, and that was why he had used Sirius as bait. If he was to destroy the most feared wizard of all time, he couldn’t peril others by feeling. He would have to learn how to close his heart to his surroundings, to freeze his deep emotions and keep them beneath the core.


As he remembered the night he came to that conclusion, Harry felt a twinge of regret that he hastened to subjugate. He closed his eyes tiredly but remained firm in his decision. It was the only way to accomplish it. For the well being of others that would become his path. What would his parents think of him? Would they feel proud?


Harry felt his eyes moistening, but he blinked furiously and forced the tears back. No, crying was useless. Hedwig hooted as if in protest, but Harry only caressed her softly with a sad smile in his face. “It’s the only way, Hedwig…”


Hours passed by until he finally moved again and undressed himself in the darkness of his room. Harry pulled down the blankets and then lay on the bed, waiting for a peaceful and silent sleep to drift him away to another world free of prophecies and Voldemort. Unfortunately, not even in his dreams was he free of Voldemort.



Harry felt as though he had just closed his eyes when Uncle Vernon’s good-morning howlers reverberated in his ears.


“Get down right now, boy!” raged Uncle Vernon from the floor downstairs.


The sun entered his room through the window, casting its light on tiny dots of dust that lazily hovered to the ground. Although Harry was used to being shouted at by his uncle, he couldn’t but wonder what he had gotten himself into this time. It had to be something really bad if Uncle Vernon was addressing him again, let alone shouting. Since the warning Moody gave Uncle Vernon about mistreating Harry, his uncle, and the rest of the family for that matter, had stopped talking to him. If they had to tell something to him, they would say it through a series of grunts, growls, and grumbles.


“I’ll be down in a minute!” shouted Harry in reply.


“You’ll be down in a second! We don’t have all day for this nonsense,” Uncle Vernon commanded impatiently to his nephew.


Harry slowly pulled off the blankets and started his way down to the kitchen. This was definitely not his favourite way to start the day. He found his aunt and uncle looking at him expectantly from behind the kitchen table as though they were judges and Harry was the defendant. Uncle Vernon had a furious look on his face and his aunt was breathing hard, the same way she did whenever Harry did any magic or when he scared Dudley with it.


“Explain this!” barked Uncle Vernon as if he was still talking to Harry through the ceiling. He slammed a small squared picture on the kitchen table.


Harry could feel all the colour draining from his face. He didn’t need to see it twice to know which picture it was. There, on top of the kitchen table, five young students in Hogwarts’ robes were now smiling at him and waving their hands excitedly from the confines of a photograph. So this was the offender...


Harry slowly swallowed hard. If the Dursleys really hated something, besides him of course, it was magic in any form. He looked up at Uncle Vernon’s red face to find two small black eyes piercing into his. In that moment, Harry knew that he was in for a very long morning.

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A/N: It's finally here! I'm sorry for announcing this for so long without actually posting it. Hopefully, you'll think it was worth the wait as we go on :) I have so many things prepared for this story! I'm excited and eager to post it! Many thanks to sayiamsirius for betaing this first chapter, and tons of thanks and praises to I Love Severus Snape for also betaing this chapter and accepting to be my beta :D

The next chapters are already written but are waiting for my beta, but that means that there won't be an writer's block keeping you from reading the next chapters :D Please don't forget to leave me a review! I love to know what you readers liked or hated :) Just for the record, I'm not asking for a certain amount of reviews to upload the next chapter, just asking you to leave your feedback on the story :) Thanks for reading!

Disclaimer: I own nothing of this. I’m just having fun using JKR’s characters and my imagination. I’m not making any money out of it, and no copyright violation intended.

Dedicatory: There are a lot of controversial findings surrounding I Love Severus Snape's departure. Nevertheless, I'm truly in debt for all the help she lend me and my story. That's why this chapter is for you, Steph.







"Letters and Dreams"




Harry slowly swallowed hard. If the Dursleys really hated something, besides him of course, it was magic in any form. He looked up at Uncle Vernon’s red face to find two small black eyes piercing into his. In that moment, Harry knew that he was in for a very long morning.


“It’s a picture,” he said imperturbably with an innocent look on his face as if it was not something utterly obvious. Internally, Harry wondered if there was any member of the Order ready in case his uncle decided to attack him.

“I’m not stupid, boy. I know it’s a picture!” Uncle Vernon said exasperated. “But,” he lowered his howlers until his voice was barely audible, “it’s bloody moving!” His lips moved furiously, making drops of saliva to cover the table in front of him. His face went from a crimson colour to a dark purple in a second. It looked more and more like a big juicy berry as time passed by.

Only a few times his uncle had hit that mark: that memorable visit the Weasleys paid to Privet Drive; the time when he had changed the colour of his teacher’s wig; and how could he forget that time Uncle Vernon had almost kicked him out of the house? He didn’t know how his uncle’s heart could afford such an effort.

“I’m sorry. It won’t happen again,” Harry said as he tried to make a grab for the picture on top of the table, but pulled his hand back when his uncle slapped it.

“Who are they?” he asked with a face of intense dislike.

“My friends from Ho- my school,” Harry quickly corrected himself.

Uncle Vernon’s face then mutated into a fleer. “You don’t have friends, boy. You have never had any!” he said mercilessly.

Harry instantly felt how his anger raised dangerously to high levels. “I should thank my dear family for that,” he spat icily.

Uncle Vernon inflated his chest with indignation. His little black eyes moved to the picture, and he made a move to seize the picture it, but Harry quickly slammed his hand on the table, covering it. “Don’t even try,” Harry said calmly, although he was showing more courage than he was feeling.

Vernon Dursley was perplexed. He wasn’t used to being addressed like that. He was a man that had many people beneath him, and each one of them followed his orders with nothing more than a quick nod and a submissive response. However, this lazy loafer living in his house had been nothing but trouble since he was left at the front.

He stared intently at his nephew as though he was trying to use Legilimency.

After a couple of minutes of complete silence, in which no one said a word, Uncle Vernon’s face started to return to its normal colour. Harry knew that they were now entering the ‘safe zone’, but with Uncle Vernon you never really knew for sure.

“Fine! Don’t you ever bring another picture from… from your… world into my house,” his uncle said. Harry looked defiantly at him, but decided that arguing would do no good to him. He could have it in his room, anyway. He grabbed the picture and stormed to his room without looking back not even once.


****************************************


“Ronald Weasley!” His mother’s sweet and kind waking cry reached Ron from the floor downstairs. “If you don’t get down here in five minutes, you’ll wash dishes for the rest of the summer!” The same sweet voice that had always woken him up.

Ron lazily opened his eyes, knowing he couldn’t prolong his sleep anymore. He scratched his head as he sat up and a monstrous yawn escaped through his mouth. He knew he should have been up an hour before, but now it was late and he would face his mother’s wrath. Yet, he didn’t care; his dream had been so pleasant.

He silently cursed the sun for arriving so quickly and the night for being so short. His mind still waved between sleep and consciousness as he remembered his dream.

He reluctantly climbed down his bed and slowly strolled downstairs only to find his mother very busy in the kitchen making, as usual, some late breakfast for him and fixing some food for the meal.

As he looked around, he thought the house was pretty quiet. The twins were in their store, Bill had returned to Egypt after a short visit to the Burrow, and Charlie was still working in a big dragon project in Russia. Ron had been at first surprised to learn that there were any dragons in Russia, but it was nothing compared to when he learned that these dragons were different from all he had ever known. They were called Ice Lords. Ron had always thought they existed only in legends and fairy tales, but these mighty creatures did exist, and they had settled in the most unreachable places of Russia, under extremely cold temperatures. As their names tell, these dragons’ birth element was not fire but ice. Some wizards even considered these dragons more dangerous than that of the regular fire dragons.

Ron smiled when he imagined the cold his brother should be facing while, at the Burrow, the weather was just perfect. Not too hot, but not too cold either.

The only one of the siblings left was Ginny, who was staring at her breakfast absently on the kitchen table.

“I’m starving,” Ron said as he plopped in one of the chairs.

“Just a second, Ron,” his mother said from the kitchen, checking the eggs on the pan.

“You are always starving,” Ginny replied, perking up just a little bit. “I hope Hermione knows how to make large amounts of food, otherwise I see tough years ahead of you, Ron.”

Ron’s ears turned scarlet with an amazing speed.

“Shut up, Ginny!”


****************************************


Dear Harry:

How have you been? I hope you are fine, despite
the bad moments some down there could be
giving you.

I was going to write you a long letter with all my
doings this summer, but I might as well cut to the
chase and tell you what has really been bothering
me, don’t you think?

Harry, it doesn’t care how many times I read it on
your letters, it doesn’t matter how many times you
try to convince us of that, we know that you are
not okay. Stop blaming yourself, Harry! It is hard,
I know that, but cannot just abstract from everything
and hide into your shell!

We all loved him, Harry. You weren’t the only who
lost something that night. We all miss him, and we
will never forget Sirius, but we have to keep going,
or then, everything he had been fighting for will be
lost.

None of us blames you for what happened there,
Harry. On the contrary, we are proud of having
fought at your side… but the fight is not over yet.
Don’t give up now, Harry. We want to help you,
even if you are this thick to understand that (I mean,
if you still don’t know that after five years, you are
thicker than Ron!).

I won’t write anything else because I want you to
seriously consider all these things. I know you will
be mad, I know you will be angry, but stop feeling
sorry for yourself and open your eyes: there’s
people that care for you that are also hurting.

I finish my letter here, Harry; you just think about
it, alright? I hope to get an answer from you (and
being optimistic, maybe very soon?). Oh, and keep
in mind that I’ll be going to the Burrow soon, so
you can write us just one letter, instead of sending
Hedwig into different trips. Take care then, Harry.
The next time you receive a letter from me I’ll be
with Ron, so goodbye until then.


Love,

Hermione


PS: Be ready to leave at any moment!


Hermione signed it with her perfect handwriting and then put the quill aside to re-read the letter. Yes, it was pretty good, straightforward but without pushing him too much. She knew he would probably get mad when he read it, but he would eventually come to his senses, and with some luck, follow her advice. Yet, Hermione knew that Harry was going through an extremely painful time, so the faster they could bring him home the better.

She folded it carefully and placed it on top of her desk where she was sitting at. With that out of the way, she now only had to write to one more person. She took another piece of parchment and steeled herself.


Dear Ron,


After reflecting a bit, she tore the piece of parchment apart and crumpled into a small ball. No, he will think I’m trying to hint him into something else, and I’m not…right? It seemed she didn’t remember to have written the same heading for Harry.


My good friend, Ron


She quickly crossed it and took a deep breath. She could swear she’d never had so much trouble to write a line, but she couldn’t help it. She knew the reason, although she had always tried to deny it. She sighed and tried another line.

A very frustrated Hermione crumpled the twentieth piece of parchment after thirty minutes and threw it into the bin. She was having a really hard time to write… the heading. Finally, she decided over one.


Ron,

How are you doing, my friend? I hope that all your
summer plans have come out well for you. I also
hope everything is good for you and your beloved
family.


It was all Hermione could write before letting out an exasperated cry when she realized how odd and unnatural the letter was. This was merely ridiculous. She crumpled the piece of parchment and pushed herself to keep trying.

Yet another half an hour later, Hermione, with all her hair almost as disordered as Harry’s, finally put down her quill and folded the letter carefully. It would have to be enough with that. 'God help him if he dares to complain about it,' she thought to herself.

Writing that letter had drained her more than a Potion essay and she couldn’t even start to imagine what she would do when they were under the same roof. Hermione couldn’t ignore this time the butterflies’ flutters that reigned in her belly every time she thought of him. ‘Why he has to be so thick?’ she wondered almost bitterly.

Sometimes she wondered how things would develop if she opened up to him. But there was too much at stake, and her greatest fear was to ruin the great friendship they had all forged through all those years.

A lonely tear ran down her cheek before she wiped it away furiously. No, she had cried enough for him. Hermione tucked herself into bed and prayed that this night Ron Weasley wouldn’t appear in her dreams. She did not know that very, very far away, someone plotting their fall was curling his lips in a triumphant sneer.

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A/N: Here it is! The last of the introductory chapters, yepee! Oh, but don't think this chapter didn't have important stuff. If you paid attention, you know what I mean ;) I want to announce that I'll write some comments for all the chapters as they are uploaded. You can read them in my profile after all those uninteresting facts about my life. They are mainly things that I want to say but I can't (authors can't abuse of 'A/N', heh) due to lack of space. Things like why I made a character act certain way, even if he/she may look OOC, etc.

Finally, I'll let you know that next chapter will be submitted quite soon. It was beta-ed a long time ago, so there's no problem at the moment. However, I have to find a beta soon, otherwise I'm going to fall behind :o Wish me luck!

Oh, and please leave me a review if you are feeling like :) It's great to know what you thought about the chapter, even if it is constructive criticism :) Thanks for reading!