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Dreamscape by DigitalFeonix
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Dreamscape

DigitalFeonix

He abruptly sat upright as his hand went instinctively to his forehead, covering his scar as it seared with pain. The unforgettable laughter still ringing in his ears was slowly replaced with the rapid beating of his own heart. He felt the dampness of the cold sweat that had formed on his skin. He forced his eyes to scan the dark room. He was alone again.

Harry hated it when he woke like this, but it was an all to common occurrence for him. He rarely slept well after his Occulmency lessons. He let a heavy sigh escape as he thought of the lack of progress he was showing. Dumbledore didn't say anything, but Harry knew he was disappointed in him, which only made it worse.

Harry laid his head back down. If he wanted to get any sleep tonight, he realized he would have to give in and take one of Snape's suggestions. The very idea of Snape being right about anything left him with a dull rage burning inside, but right now it seemed the only reasonable thing left to do.

"Think of the most calming, comfortable memory you have and lock yourself in it. Let no one in. Really Potter, you can do a Patronus, you should have no trouble with this." Snape had told him after he pushed through Harry's defenses once again. Snape may have become slightly more helpful since Dumbledore talked to him, but he didn't become any less insulting.

Harry breathed another sigh, closed his eyes and searched through his memories for something wonderful he could lose himself in. He thought of all the times he was flying on his broom, the first time going down Diagon Alley, being cheered as he caught the snitch, and every time he had been to the Burrow. It finally came to him. Not a specific memory as such, but an amalgam of memories and emotions. Harry was in front of the fire in the common room studying, or more like him watching Hermione study.

He let himself drift into that feeling of awe that comes over him every time he watches her bury her bushy head into those piles of books. He cleared his mind and memories of everything but her. The way the firelight danced in the highlights of her hair. The way she bites her bottom lip as she tried to find just the right word for one of her overly long essays. The twinkle in her eyes when she would occasionally look up at him and smile. Those eyes. He concentrated on her eyes. Those beautiful brown eyes that he had memorized thousands of times. He felt himself being drawn into those lovely cinnamon pools until they consumed him completely.

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He saw the familiar flicker of candlelight from behind his closed eyelids. He slowly became aware of music gently playing in the background, echoing slightly in the room. The crackle of a fire soon joined it, along with the sounds of heavy breathing. A wonderfully familiar vanilla scent wafted to his nose. He inhaled, taking it into him, letting it fill him with warmth. Something irresistibly soft was caressing his face. Some fingers, attached to an unseen hand, ran along his cheeks before cupping his face. Lips pressed against his. Instinctively he kissed them back. He opened his mouth and found a delicious tongue wrestling with his own. He let a small groan escape.

He had never been kissed like this before. Hadn't imagined that it could be so... wonderful. It felt so natural, so easy. He felt that he had done it hundreds of times before. Then he heard it, removing him from these thoughts.

"Oh Harry," a feminine voice moaned.

He knew that voice, knew it well. His heart leapt against his chest as he realized what it meant. He had only ever dreamed of this. He didn't want to open his eyes to only find out that it wasn't happening.

He felt her soft lips making their way down his neck and across his chest as more tingles shot up and down his body. He had to be find out if it was her or some fantasy woman made up by his hormonal teenage mind.

"You taste so good," the feminine voice said in a very sultry tone that sent tingles down his spine.

He opened his eyes as he felt her silky hair land on his face. He was immediately caught in those lovely cinnamon pools he had memorized so many times.

"I love you Harry," she whispered.