Disclaimer: I do not own or profit Harry Potter or anything related to his world. It all belongs to Ms. JK Rowling, of whom I am grateful that she has shared this wonderful story will all of us.
A/N: Thanks to Bogus and her divine patience with me. First FanFic ever. I have left the comforts of Lurkerdom and am enjoying the adventure. I hope you like it, enjoy.
Chapter 1
Of Dreams or Visions
A warm summer breeze rustled the curtains; the sky above Privet drive was a shade of deep black except for pinpricked stars. To the east, the darkness gave way to the impending light of day. But in the Wizarding world, darkness was growing. It had been three weeks since he fell into Voldemorts trap, dragging his friends into a battle that was not theirs to fight leaving them lasting scars of their own. Three weeks since his godfather had died and another person he loved ripped away. Three weeks of knowing that the Wizarding world as he knew it rested squarely on his shoulders. Three weeks of tormented sleep only reliquenshing the battle when exhaustion spread through him like wildfire.
"NO, NO! I won't let you!" Harry screamed in his bed. He was thrashing about as if in a life and death struggle.
"Move away you silly little girl," hissed a voice Harry knew all too well. It was Voldemort, he had heard this thousands of times but had never seen it before. He knew what was coming next, or a least he thought he did.
"Haa...rrr...yyyyy, help me..."
A cold sweat pierced him and blood ran into his eyes as they flashed opened. Harry had found himself lying on a cold wooden floor. Desperately he struggled out of his tangled bedclothes trying to regain his composure and make sense of his surroundings. His vision blurred by blood and the lack of glasses he willed himself to his desk grabbing for his quill, ink, and parchment. Unable to stand, he slumped back down to the floor. Hands shaking wildly, he managed to write one word. Quickly he rolled it up, smearing blood and ink across the page. Instinctively his snowy owl, which had witnessed the scene before her, swooped to the floor and took the parchment into her beak. "You know what to do..." Harry managed to whisper before the darkness engulfed him once more.
......................................................................
A warm feeling started to spread over him, gently he opened his eyes not sure of what he would find. A large red mass was leaning closely above him.
"Fawkes?" his said. Struggling to lift his arm out to reach him. Sure enough, he felt the soft coat of feathers between his fingers. It took a moment before the phoenix tears took their full effect and when they did Harry hoisted himself off the blood-splattered floor and walked over to sit on his bed. Fawkes had followed, perched on what remained of his nightstand and was looking at him quizzically.
"I'm okay, thank-you Fawkes, what about," the words falling from his mouth as though he wasn't speaking them. Holding out his leg, Fawkes started to softly sing. This made Harry feel reassured, calming him even more. He took the parchment and read Monday, 9a.m..
A flash of anger flared into his eyes. "How could he!" Harry snarled as he snapped his head around on Fawkes.
The phoenix just looked at him as if to say "You know why, Harry," and continued to quietly sing his song.
Feeling the anger towards his Headmaster ebb away, he sank back into his bed trying to figure out the nightmare, the vision, he had. Another teardrop had fallen from Fawkes and he was compelled into a deep, thoughtless sleep.
................................................................................
It was a new day, born bright and beautiful. The warmth of the sun carried on the morning breeze. Despite such beauty, Harry was still lost in his thoughts as he lay in bed. It would be another five days before Harry could leave the miserable confines of the Dursleys and seek out the one thing on his mind. Fawkes had left shortly after he awoke, the last contact he would have with the wizarding world, the world in which he felt at home.
The door had slowly creaked open. Four long, thin and pale bony fingers curled around the edge of the door and his horse-faced aunt peeked in. They made eye contact, but no words left her lips.
"Monday morning at 9 o'clock." Harry answered her unspoken question, "I'm alright." He added off-hand, just in case she cared. Giving a slight nod, her face slipped between the crack, fingers uncurled, and the door creaked shut. That was the most care that Aunt Petunia had ever shown.
Deciding that a trip to the loo was well in order, Harry pushed off his bed. He grabbed some fresh clothes from the dresser and then gazed into the hanging mirror above caught off guard at what was looking back at him.
At least I look as bad as I feel, Harry thought to himself. The black mop that topped off his head was, if you could imagine, the messiest he's even seen. His face was paler than usual and contrasted greatly with the dark crimson streaks of dried blood, the source of which must have been on his forehead but was now healed thanks to Fawkes. His glasses sat a little crooked on his face due to the fact that in his battle with the nightstand they were sitting on, the glasses had been chucked across the room. Beyond that, his green eyes...his mother’s eyes were bloodshot and tired. Above, the mark left by the Dark Lord was twinge with red.
After a shower, he stumbled down to the kitchen. Uncle Vernon and Dudley were no where to be seen. Guessing that they had all heard the ruckus the night before the kitchen was empty except for Aunt Petunia. Harry sat down at the table, already set with a plate she prepared for him, which Harry was taken aback wondering if it might have been poisoned.
Petunia didn't say anything, she just continued to clean her already surgically clean kitchen. Harry knew that it was busy work, said 'thank-you' and tucked in. He wasn't really hungry, but after not eating much for the past three weeks he knew his energy was drained. He would need all the strength he could get before Monday, strength he needed not for himself. He finished, handed the plate to his aunt who blinked in acceptance, and slumped upstairs to his room.
Alone in his deep thoughts the days seemed to pass quickly. Harry was no longer dwelling on the painful loss of his godfather, although still raw and painful, he had more pressing matters at hand. He was finding his mettle, devising a plan, determined to bring her back.
...........................................................................
It was finally Monday morning and judging by the gradient orange hues in the dark blue sky, it was still early. Harry dressed as quickly as possible hoping that if he moved faster so would the time. Much to his chagrin this did not work so he sat on his trunk facing the door and waited. Hunched over with his elbows propped on his knees, his hands were free to fidget in the space below, he was lost in thought. The realization about where he was headed and what kind of situation he would be entering struck him. Would I be heading back to Grimmauld Place, the Burrow, or somewhere else? Will she be there? Is she all right? Ron and Hermione....would they be there too? What do I tell them? What will I tell Dumbledore?
Before he knew it, there was a knock on the door. “Harry, it’s Lupin. we’re here to take you back if you’re ready.” His voice was full of concern. Harry was isolated over the past five days since his nightmare, his vision. Nobody was sure of his present state of mind or even the events of what happened here.
“What’s the phrase?”
Remus had a questioning look on his face, “Phrase?”
“Oh, nothing,” Harry turned and it looked like he was checking his trunk but he decretely reached for his wand.”
And then a light went off, “Oh,” Remus laughed. “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good. You caught me off guard. Moody would have my head, don’t say anthing?”
“I won’t, I promise. I’m ready, let's just get out of here.” Harry answered as he opened the door.
His former professor, mentor, marauder and current Order member and friend was standing in the doorway and embracing him in a hug. That was just what Harry needed. Lupin was the last of his fathers’ friends and next likely guardian for Harry. Painful as it was not having Sirius around, he was grateful for Lupin.
“Alright then... shall we get a move on?” he said as they parted and then with a laugh and a wink he added, “Moody is visiting with your uncle downstairs.”
Harry smiled, another first.
..................................................................................
Stumbling out of the effects of a portkey, a bent over Harry looked up to see the bottom halves of people gathered around him. But before he could fully straighten himself up, a whirl of red and the motherly voice of Molly Weasley attacked him.
“Good to see you Harry, dear…we’re glad to have you back.”
“Thank-you Mrs. Weasley, I’m glad to be back too.”
As always, Harry was amazed at how much he has grown to love and appreciate her. She was the closest thing to a mother he had ever had.
As soon as Mrs. Weasley released him, a head full of bushy brown hair and Hermiones’ voice surrounded him. “Oh Harry... we’re glad your okay” she said with a sniff.
Looking up now he saw his best mate Ron who moved towards him to give him a one armed hug. Apparently Hermione had not let go yet.
“Glad your back mate.” They had made eye contact and understood that there were things to be discussed.
“Come on Hermione, there’s other people that want to say hi, too.” Ron said with a nervous laugh while taking her arm and guiding her back to the crowd of people.
Harry could finally look around the room. He was at Grimmauld Place and the welcoming party, although subdued was large. On his right were the Weasley twins, Fred and George, who held their hands out to shake. For a moment Harry was hesitant knowing what pranksters they are. Next to them, Bill the oldest and coolest looking Weasley brother. After shaking his hand too, Harry moved down the line. This time it was Mr. Weasley himself. He took Harry’s hand and pulled him into a brief yet strong hug. Then parted with a nod. Tonks smiled and wiggled her nose in a way only she could.
“Hey, Tonks,” Harry noticed her.
Kingsley, Mundungus, and Professor Snape stood behind them, all nodded in recognition. Snape seem to convey anything but a warm greeting but was there none the less. He was followed just to the right by Professor McGonagall who smiled sternly but that was just the way she was. And by her side was Professor Dumbledore. He nodded and slowly blinked that he was glad to see him.
He scanned the room once more, panic starting to set in. Harry glanced back to Dumbledore just as he stepped aside to reveal what he had been looking for. Without a thought he walked through the group and made his way across the room to a settee against the wall where a red-haired girl sat.
Ginny was looking at the floor, hands in her lap with sheets of hair fallen around her face. She didn’t move as he drew closer. Harry slowed his approach and crouched down in front of her, sitting on his heels. Ginny did not look up, but a tear was burning a trail down her face.
“Hi Ginny,” Harry whispered. He looked at her with deep compassion, studying her expressionless face.
Slowly Ginny stood up and without so much as a word or a glance, turned and went upstairs. Harry was suddenly aware of all the eyes now watching him. Feeling responsible for her grief and fighting back tears himself, he eased up to stand still facing the wall, trying to get a grip on his emotions.
“Well, let’s get your things up to our room, mate.” Ron had come over and put his hand on his shoulder.
“Yeah, I’d like that.” Harry mumbled, grateful for the timely and much needed diversion from his friend.
By the time he had turned around the crowd was starting to dissipate. On queue, Fred and George walked up with his trunk and cage.
“Let’s go get you settled in now,” said George.
And Fred chimed in, “We assume you’ll be bunking with Ron.”
With Ron by his side, the three Weasleys and Harry slumped up the stairs.
They made their way into the room on the third floor. The twins put Harry’s trunk on the floor at the foot of his bed and placed Hedwigs cage on a dresser directly across. Silently they left the room leaving Ron and Harry to themselves.
The room was larger than Ron’s at the Burrow, but was plain. The wallpaper was brown and peeling, it’s velvet fuzzed fleur de lis pattern had been worn off in patches. Dark wood floors shone from a recent scrubbing with an oval braided rug lied between the beds. A good-sized window broke up the wall, thick chocolate brown velvet curtains framed it in. Nightstands were on the side of the beds closest to the inside walls. Two dressers were directly across the room, a fireplace with a large carved mantel and matching framed mirror above, separated them and to the far right, the door. The two sat on their own beds, both thinking in the lingering silence.
Hesitantly, Ron muttered, “Do you want to talk?” not sure of the response he would get. Harry had been known to snap if pushed too far. Judging on what happened a few weeks ago, he half expected to be hexed.
“No...erm...I just want to lie here awhile, if that’s okay?”
“Sure, no problem,” Ron answered in a tone of understanding and confidence. He slowly got up and started to leave the room.
“Thanks Ron.”
“I’ll be down stairs if you need me.” And the door shut.
With some of his worries relieved, Ginny seemed to be physically unharmed, he needed to refocus, to reevaluate. But being in this house was harder than he thought it was going to be and took the moment to adjust.
.......................................................................................
Harry woke a few hours later to the sound of a knock at the door.
“Harry?.....Ron and I brought you some lunch, can we come in?” It was Hermione.
“Yeah, sure” he called back as he wiped away any trace of a tearful slumber then propped himself up against the headboard.
“We thought you’d be hungry... so we brought you up some ham sandwiches and a glass of pumpkin juice.” as she and Ron slid in the door.
“Oh, thanks. I guess I am kind of hungry, forgot to eat this morning.” Still trying to sound as normal as possible.
“Harry, is there anything we can help you with?” said Hermione as she took a seat next to Ron after setting the plate on Harry’s bed and handing him the cup.
“We want to help, mate... even if it’s just to listen,” he trailed off, “but only when your ready.”
The only sounds were of Harry biting into his sandwich and taking a sip of pumpkin juice and after each one he reflected on how he should proceed, his priorities now straight. Ron and Hermione had been through most of the toughest times he ever had. He was thankful they were here again.
“Well, I want to start out by saying how sorry I am I got you into the mess at the Ministry... I know you both wanted to be there for me and I appreciate that.” Uncharacteristically his two friends kept quiet. Harry took another sip, a deep breath and continued on.
“I can’t tell you what I know right now,” thinking about the prophecy, “but I need to know what happened here, to Ginny.” Finally looking up at them.
Ron and Hermione looked at each other as if to confirm a plan on how they were going to say it. Ron started first.
“Ginny’s been having a lot of nightmares since we left Hogwarts. We stayed at the Burrow first off. I could hear her talking at night and tossing in her bed whenever I walked past her room. She’s been really quiet and not herself.” But then again a lot of us are not like ourselves lately, he thought while shuffling in his seat. “We left for Grimmauld Place after a week; Mum and Dad have been busy with Order business so it’s just easier to stay here.”
“I got here Wednesday afternoon, my parents are really busy, too and I wanted to be with everyone here,” Hermione began. “With Voldemort mad about the prophecy and a few Death Eaters in Azkaban, I just worry that being with my muggle family might endanger them, especially since they know I was at the Ministry.” glancing away from Harry as she said this.
Steeling herself up again she got back on track. “Anyway, Ginny and I talked a bit but like Ron said she’s not her usual ‘happy-to-hex-you’ self. We chatted a bit after dinner then she went to bed. Later, when I went up for the night, she appeared to be sleeping soundly.”
Hermione let out a great sigh, Ron gently took her hand in his to help steady her resolve then she drew a deep breath and continued on. “Sometime in the early morning hours, she started talking incoherently and tossing in her sleep. It got more frequent and stronger over the next hour until she started to really scare me.”
Harry was hanging on to every word she spoke, one of his worst fears was coming to light. Trying not to look too concerned, he gave them a nod of understanding.
“It’s okay Hermione, I can take it from here.” Ron whispered as Hermione was visibly upset and shaken at the memory.
“She tried to wake her, but couldn’t. Not knowing what to do or who was here, she came to me. We rushed in just as Ginny started screaming and kicking. I tried to grab her, to calm her down, but she was too violent,” he said as his free hand gently rubbed the side of his head.
“It looked like she was fighting with someone, but no one was there. I sent Hermione downstairs to find someone to help, she came back with Mum who had heard the screaming and was already making her way upstairs. Mum just stood there for a second, not sure what she should do either. I suppose she was going to get Dad when she started for the door but then Dumbledore appeared in the doorway and walked over to Ginny. He said he already knew before mum could say anything, then he watched Ginny for a moment, then did some sort of spell to calm her down.”
After sizing up Harry’s expression upon learning all of this, he decided it was safe enough to continue on with what he thought was the most disturbing revelation. “She was screaming for you, Harry.”
Harry looked into their faces and replied very solemnly “I know.”
After a moment of silence, all three consumed with the implications of what had been said, Hermione broke in, “But what about your occlumency lessons. I thought you were shutting your mind to Voldemort?”
“I did, at least I thought I did.” Harry stood up from the bed and began to pace around the room, looking at the floor, fingers locked behind his back. “I thought that it was me who was doing all the dreaming. But last Wednesday it was different. It was an oddly familiar dream, but I knew I never had it before.” he shook his head and sighed. “I could hear Voldemort, he was laughing and toying with a woman who had long red hair. I wanted to get to her, to help her, she was screaming for me. At first I thought it was my mum.”
Harry had stopped in the middle of the room, turned slightly and looked up at Ron, “It was Ginny.”
Digesting what Harry had just revealed, Ron swallowed hard and thinking out loud said, “So that’s how Dumbledore knew to come to Ginny, you told him.”
“It was the only thing I could do.” Harry exhaled in an air mixed with helplessness and guilt at not being able to do more. He moved back over to his bed and sat across from his two best friends. Wanting to turn the subject back to Ginny he asked, “So what happened after Dumbledore calmed her down?”
“Well...” Ron sighed while gathering his thoughts, “Dumbledore watched her for a few minutes, told Mum that she would be alright and that he’d fancy a cup of tea, then he turned and left. I just sat with Hermione on her bed watching Ginny for awhile, then Mum said it was time leave her alone and went downstairs to ‘have tea’ with Dumbledore.” Ron drew another breath but before he could continue, Hermione joined in.
“I asked Ron to stay with me a little longer, just in case Ginny started up again. She never woke up really.... I must have fallen asleep....” Hermione continued, “the next thing I know it’s morning and Ginny was already up.”
“I heard her coming down for breakfast, so I followed her. She seemed to be okay, just really sad, I dunno if she even knows what happened.” Trying to think of any other details, Rod added, “She stays in her room a lot, says she’s tired but whenever Hermione goes and checks on her, she’s awake. She’ll talk to people just fine, but seems distant.”
Looking back at Harry, he said as casually as possible, “Do you think Voldemort has been possessing her again?”
Chewing on the inside of his lip, Harry shrugged and said, “I don’t know?”