Behind The Black Veil

Disclaimer: I do not own any of J.K. Rowling's characters.

Authors Note: My take on how it all looks behind the black veil. Also in the vision, I am using the Roman Italian version to spell Coliseum, which is: Colosseum. Also, the vision in this dream may be short but in every chapter Harry's vision will get stronger and will have a bit more detail. Another thing is that the people in the vision are really just archetypes. So, Harry's vision is merely psychological. For example, Umbridge could represent Harry's newest fear.

Please read and review. No flames.

Chapter One - The Vision

Every day grew blacker and duller as Harry lay upon his bed staring up at the ceiling. Everyone in Number 4 Privet Drive was going about with his or her daily routine. Harry could hear Aunt Petunia's light-footed steps in the hallway pause as soon as she stopped by his door. He thought that it was odd that Aunt Petunia seemed a bit worried about his recent behavior. But, he shrugged it off as he whispered softly and bitterly about criminally insane boys.

He could not stop the grief that enveloped his heart. He was hoping that he would at least get a letter from Hermione or Ron. But, soon realized that it was too dangerous right now to be writing to him. After all, Voldemort was after his skin. There was a war to be going on soon; he was sure of it.

His thoughts ran to the people that he had met only last year. He could not stand the sight of Umbridge. She had made a decree just so Remus Lupin could not get a job of any kind. Harry had soon decided that had she been a good person then maybe she would not have looked so bad to him. But, her ignorance and evil ways were what made her seem what she truly was. He hated her with a deep passion. He hated her more than he hated Professor Snape and that was saying a lot.

He had seen too much during his fifth year. It had been too much for a fifteen year old to handle. But, everyone thought that Harry Potter could handle it. After all, he had faced loss before, hadn't he?

Harry missed Sirius. He truly missed his godfather so much that it ached his heart. He did not even feel like eating the cold soup that Aunt Petunia tried to serve him. Instead, he had tried to remain locked up in here with his haunting thoughts. Besides that, who in their right mind would serve cold soup to a growing boy?

Harry's emerald green eyes narrowed as he glared at the door. He was aware that Aunt Petunia was still listening in. “Probably has her ear pressed upon the door.” He bitterly mumbled to himself. “Probably trying to make sure that I am still breathing.”

Aunt Petunia's footsteps echoed again through the hallway.

Harry turned over on his side as he sighed deeply. He hated being here. He hated this house and he hated being mistreated. Why was it that people that were not his family treated him as if he were their kin?

Harry shut his eyes as he let the darkness envelop him. In a few seconds, he was sleeping.

_ _ _

Harry stood in front of a vast arena. It reminded him a bit of the Colosseum in Rome as he looked up at the dome. He looked up at the dome. He found that it was gilded with silver serpents that wound around the dome. He knew that this place was evil as soon as he saw the sign of the serpent.

He saw people standing in a crowded circle. He turned around and saw in the dark arena, that there was a woman sitting in one of the seats. Harry's eyes moved towards her jeweled fingers and his teeth clenched in anger. “Umbridge.”

He could not make it to the crowd, for; there were too many people and he could not push his way through.

_ _ _

Harry woke up with a start and blinked. He rubbed his eyes as he looked out his window. It was darker now and there was no doubt that Dudley and his gang of hoodlum friends was out beating up on some poor innocent fool.

Harry took in a deep breath as he recalled just how vivid that dream was. “It is only a dream.” He whispered, “Nothing more.”

He oddly wondered why he was dreaming of Umbridge when she was not coming back. He looked down at his hands and found that they were shaking feverishly in anger and in fear. He wondered why that place looked like a dungeon. If it was a dungeon was it in Hogwarts? Yet, it did not seem to look like a Hogwarts dungeon at all. He wondered if there were rooms that no one had been to for centuries. What if that room had never been used? Or worse what if that room was kept a secret?

_ _ _

Please read and review. No flames.