A/N: Okay, I know that there are lots of you readers out there; I can hear you breathing! What I would like you to do is take a minute, or even thirty seconds to write a quick review! You can ask around, I respond to all of the reviews I get! (And for which I am truly thankful!) I would truly like to hear from you! End groveling….
One more nightmare, and I will warn you, this one is a bit nasty. Don't worry; Harry will get through this! Love will prevail! Many thanks to my Beta, Dementor149, who helped me get through this!
Chapter 8
…And A Nightmare
They had been gone a long time. Long enough for Harry to finish the bottle of firewhiskey. He was sitting and watching his other friends enjoying each other's company. He decided that he was a moody drunk. One minute carefree and happy, the next, feeling grumpy. He watched as Ron and Hermione came back smiling, arm in arm.
`Well,' he thought bitterly, `looks like they have had a good snog. I should be happy for them, I guess.'
They came over to where Harry was sitting and Hermione sat down. Ron picked up the empty bottle and looked at it.
"Don't tell me you polished this off by yourself, mate," he said.
Harry just shrugged as he warily watched Hermione, trying to gage her reaction to earlier events. He had crossed the line when he had kissed her back. He knew it, but he couldn't help himself. He was worried because he didn't want to lose her as a friend. He needed her, and the thought of losing her scared him. Hermione turned and saw him watching her, and the look in his eyes told her of his fears. She smiled to reassure him. She could never leave him…
"It's been a good party Harry. I've had a great time. I can't believe that I actually saw you dancing several times! Must be that coming of age thing, or maybe the alcohol?" she teased.
Harry relaxed. Hermione seemed to be her old self, and he accepted her unspoken reassurance that everything was okay between them. He was relieved. He didn't need any further complications in his life right now. He decided to store the experience away, like a dream. An incredibly, wonderful dream. He gave her a sloppy grin and leaned back in his chair.
"Must be the alcohol; drunken Harry likes to dance. A sober Harry remembers a certain Triwizard Ball and the fear of being on a dance floor," he shot back.
"Ugh!" said Ron eyeing the dregs in the bottom of the bottle wistfully before putting it back down. "Don't get me started on that! Fred and George still won't let me forget about having to dance with McGonagall."
Harry smiled, remembering the conversation he had with the twins back then. He felt his spirits lift and the bad mood go away. It was an interesting sensation, being drunk, and no control over one's emotions. He was in fact, feeling quite dizzy and light-headed. He figured that he couldn't stand if he tried. His body and his brain were not even talking coherently to each other anymore. He watched Ron flop down in the chair beside Hermione and lean against the back of her chair comfortably, as the two of them engaged in a conversation about some of the couples on the dance floor. He wasn't really listening to them, just watching them as they leaned in to share some observation. They seemed so content with each other, as if something had changed. They looked like a happy couple, sort of like Bill and Fleur did when they were together. They deserved some happiness in all of this, he decided, and he wasn't going to stand in their way.
`Especially Hermione,' he thought, `she should be with someone stable, someone who doesn't have a death threat against him by some evil lord. They both deserve to be happy, considering all that they had been through with me.' He smiled as he realized he couldn't have asked for two better friends, and he vowed that he would be happy for them. They deserved it.
All too soon the evening was coming to an end and Harry's friends came over to say their good-byes. Harry saw Neville being guided towards the house by Fred and George, and he figured that it was time to call it a night as well. He was really having a hard time keeping his eyes open. Harry stood up and proceeded to stumble sideways and sit rather abruptly on the ground. Ron laughed at his lack of coordination and reached over to help him up.
"Upsy-daisy, mate," he grinned, "good thing you don't need to fly or catch a snitch tonight."
Harry gave him a lopsided grin as he swayed unsteadily on his feet. "I can still fly circles around you, any time, anywhere. Want to have a go?"
Ron looked at him in disbelief. "I would have to tie you to your broom so you wouldn't fall off, you old drunk!" he chortled.
"I am not old!" Harry said indignantly.
"Yeah, but you're still a drunk," Ron threw back at him.
"I can still out fly you any time, any day, and while you are still looping the rings trying to get your bearings, I will have flown circles around you." Harry smirked.
"Is that so?" Ron challenged, "Care to put your money where your mouth is?"
"Oh no you don't!" interjected Hermione. "There is no way either of you are going to fly in your condition! You just march right up to the house right now and take yourself to bed!"
"Bossy, little spoilsport," Harry said as he stuck out his tongue.
"Always `Little Miss Prefect', afraid of taking chances," Ron muttered slyly, giving Harry a wink.
"Bed! Now!" Hermione said as she pointed at the house, trying hard not to laugh.
Ron put his arm under Harry's and staggered up towards the house, singing a rather off-key drinking song that he had heard from his brothers. Hermione could hear Harry join in and shook her head as she fondly watched them go, smiling at their antics.
Harry let Ron lead him straight upstairs to their shared room. Neville was already there, snoring away. Ron laughed when he saw him; the twins had dyed his hair a shocking pink and gave him a Mohawk.
"I wonder if that's the only hair they dyed?" Ron asked snickering. "You'd look good in Gryffindor Red."
"Don't get any ideas," Harry warned, "I know where you live and I can still out-hex you."
"Don't know how, when you can't even stand up," Ron muttered.
Harry pulled away from Ron, intent on following through with his threat, and proceeded to collide with the open door.
Ron just laughed harder as he steered Harry towards his bed. Harry lay down and closed his eyes, willing the room to stop moving so he could sleep. Ron was climbing into bed when Harry opened his bleary eyes and looked at him.
"You're a good friend, you know, mate. You and Hermione, you've been the best thing to happen to me in my whole life," he was starting to feel a bit melancholy. "I'm happy for the two of you," he said honestly, "You guys deserve a life of happiness. I'm just glad that you're both my friends…" he said as he felt sleep overtake him.
"Uh, listen mate, about that. Hermione and I…" Ron stopped when he heard Harry snoring softly.
`Tomorrow,' he thought drowsily, `I'll tell him tomorrow.'
****** ****** ****** ******
Harry was in the Great Hall. Voldemort was sitting on his throne, his supporters surrounding him. He looked around, seeing his friends jammed into the cages. He felt his chest contract as he realized the extent of Voldemort's cruelty. There was so much blood…
Harry heard Voldemort laughing and turned around to see he was now standing near the wall, using a whip to flay someone hanging on the wall. Voldemort turned and looked at Harry; his evil grin making Harry shiver.
"Sometimes," he hissed seductively, "physical pain can be just as rewarding as mental pain. It creates such a wonderful sense of helplessness, don't you think?"
Harry looked at the body hanging loosely from the wall. He saw the blood dripping from the open wounds and the red hair. He felt sick. This madman was threatening his friends, and it was because of him. He didn't know how much more of this he could take. It was too much.
He heard a commotion coming from the side room and turned to look. Two Death Eaters were dragging Hermione from the side chamber. They chained her, facing the wall, and tore her shirt off. Voldemort walked towards her, letting the tails of the whip stroke his hand, like a lover's caress.
"I shall enjoy this," he said, licking his lips in anticipation as he raised the whip. It whistled through the air and made contact with Hermione's bare back. She cried out and tried to arch away.
"Noo!" Harry screamed as he tried to lurch forward. He looked down and saw he was chained to the floor. He frantically tried to open them with a few spells and found that they wouldn't open. He couldn't reach her, he couldn't help her, he couldn't think. He strained against the chains on his legs, the metal biting into his skin. He heard laughing all around him, and he felt helpless. He collapsed on the floor, as Voldemort slashed the whip across her back again and again, cutting her skin and making her bleed. He flinched with every stroke, sobbing and screaming for him to stop. He felt hands on him and he fought to get free, sobbing harder now at his inability to help either of them.
"Harry!" a voice said.
"LET ME GO!" he yelled, trying to free himself, fighting the hands holding him down.
"Harry! Stop! It's okay! It's only a dream!" the voice said, holding his arms to prevent him from lashing out.
"Only a…" Harry opened his eyes to see Ron trying to hold him down, with Neville standing fearfully behind him. Harry was so relieved that he sat up, grabbed Ron and hugged him.
"Wha…" said Ron, trying to push himself away so he could look Harry in the eyes.
"Harry, it's okay," he said, trying to calm him as he took hold of his arms.
Harry took a shuddering breath as Ron sat beside him, a knowing look on his face. It was so real to Harry. He could still feel the cold chains around his ankles. He ran his hand over his face and looked around, wide-eyed. He could still see them, chained and hurt, because of him. He was shaking still.
The door burst open and Hermione came in, closely followed by Ginny. Harry was so relieved to see her that he gasped out loud. Hermione went to him and wrapped her arms around him tightly.
"Was it Voldemort?" she whispered as she made eye contact with Ron, and an understanding passed between them. They were here for him.
Harry nodded, unable to speak. He held her, the tears started to flow freely; he didn't stop them. He had felt so helpless, so afraid. He didn't have the strength to fight anymore. He didn't want to do this, didn't want the pain, the fear, the responsibility. Hermione held him as he cried. He was exhausted, but so fearful of sleep.
"I…I can't," he whispered brokenly.
"It's okay Harry. We're here. It wasn't real," Hermione said soothingly, over and over again to reassure him, as she rocked him.
Ginny stood at the door watching them, the look of disappointment etched on her face as she watched Harry Potter, the hero, break down. How could he show such weakness over some silly nightmare? She shook her head at the scene before her. She had thought so highly of him, thought he was braver than that. Right now, he just looked like a little kid having nightmares, not her knight in shining armor. Still, why was it Hermione and not her sitting on that bed? She was his girlfriend; he should have turned to her, not that bushy-haired know-it-all! Didn't he realize just who was more important in his life?
Mrs. Weasley had come in by this time, followed by Mr. Weasley. She looked at Harry, shocked at what she saw. She knew that he had been having nightmares, Lupin had told her, but she didn't know that they had been so bad.
"I'll get the sleeping draught," she murmured and left. She came back a moment later and handed the potion to Hermione, who gave it to Harry. He took it without argument. Mrs. Weasley pushed her husband and protesting daughter out of the room and sent them back to bed.
Hermione gently pushed Harry back to lie down on the bed as Ron moved over to sit in the chair beside his bed.
"I'm sorry," he murmured sleepily, the draught taking effect.
"What for?" asked Hermione as she sat beside him.
"I'm not strong enough," he whispered, "I can't do this."
"We're stronger together, Harry remember that," she said gently as she pushed his hair aside.
"Stay…please…both of you," he slurred as he grabbed Ron's arm and Hermione's hand. He drifted off, holding his two best friends.
While he was sleeping soundly, Hermione brushed his hair out of his face and smoothed the worry lines off his forehead.
Ron watched her, finally accepting what he already knew deep down.
"I wonder if he knows how much you love him," Ron said wistfully, feeling the regret of knowing that he would never be on the receiving end of Hermione's devotion.
"Of course he knows! We're his best friends!" replied Hermione.
"Not us Hermione, you. I'm his best mate and I'll always be here for him, but you…" he trailed off and shrugged, unable to voice what he now saw as the truth.
"I don't know what you are talking about, Ron," she said brusquely. "You know I care for him a lot, that's what friends do."
Ron rolled his eyes. He didn't feel like fighting. He was already emotionally drained from dealing with Harry's dream, and he could feel the start of a hangover in the back of his eyes. He yawned and got up to go to bed. He saw Neville still standing by his bed, wide-eyed.
"Neville, go back to bed. Harry will be fine now," Ron said.
Neville nodded his pink Mohawk and wordlessly crawled back into his bed.
"I'm going to bed. Morning's going to be here soon," Ron said as he crawled under his own covers.
"I guess it's okay for me to go too," Hermione said, reluctant to leave. "Is Neville okay?" she said as she took in the pink hair peeking out from under the blankets.
Ron grunted in reply. He was already half asleep.
When Harry woke later that morning, he felt beaten and bruised. He just lay in his bed for a long time not wanting to move. He could hear voices downstairs and saw he was alone, so he figured everyone must have been downstairs eating breakfast. That was fine with Harry. He wasn't in a mood to see anyone. He rolled over and closed his eyes. When he woke again the room was warm. He figured it was mid-afternoon. His growling stomach made him get out of bed and throw on a pair of shorts and a shirt. The house was quiet, but as he headed downstairs he could hear two voices. He came into the kitchen and saw Mrs. Weasley and Lupin sitting at the table. Mrs. Weasley jumped up guiltily when she saw him, looking at him with sympathetic eyes.
"I'll get you something to eat Harry. You must be famished."
Harry sat down across from Lupin and stared at the top of the table, not wanting to make eye contact with him. Lupin looked concerned.
"I hear you are having bad dreams again, Harry," he said.
Harry just nodded, without looking up. He was tired of trying to hide the fact that he had nightmares that made him sick.
"What happened to the Occlumency?" asked Lupin, "I thought you were learning how to shut it out."
Harry shrugged. "My lessons with Snape weren't very successful, I guess I didn't practice enough," he scowled as he thought about the hateful teacher. "I really don't think he wanted me to succeed, because he never really taught me what to do." Harry looked up. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about. I need to practice with someone. I was hoping that maybe you could help me."
"Well, I'm not as good at it as Professor Snape is, but maybe I can get you going on the right track. Not today though. You'd be too emotional, and you need a break. I think your friends want to spend some time with you." Lupin said.
Mrs. Weasley brought him some lunch and he began to eat, not really tasting what he was putting in his mouth. He shook his head as the feelings of being embarrassed from last night came over him.
"I don't know if I want to see them," he mumbled, "I need to distance myself from them."
"What for, Harry? They're your friends and they care about you!" Lupin said.
Harry sighed. "I'm weak professor. He's beating me from the inside. He knows what my weakness is and he is going to use it against me. I…I can't put them through that," he stopped eating, unable to swallow past the lump in his throat.
"Harry," Lupin sighed, "You have to understand what he is doing to you," he thought for a moment. "One soldier on a battlefield surrounded by the enemy loses hope. He gives up. It makes it easier to defeat him. An army of soldiers feels strength from those around him. He feels empowered by the support of others. It makes him harder to defeat. If he alienates you from those you love, Harry, he has created that hopelessness that he wants and needs to defeat you. You need all the help you can get in order to end this war. We are all here to help you. Don't push us away."
Lupin got up and laid a hand on Harry's shoulder.
"We are all here to help Harry," he said again, "we know what we're getting into. We have made the choice to help you, just as you made the choice to fight. Don't give up now. You're not weak. Older and more experienced wizards have collapsed under far less than what you're going through. You are one of the strongest people I know. You will beat him, Harry. We all have faith in you. I'll see you tomorrow for your Occlumency lessons."
After Lupin left, Harry decided he wanted some fresh air and maybe a ride on his broomstick. He needed to think. He grabbed his broom and headed over to the Weasley's Quiddich pitch, avoiding everyone. He kicked off as soon as he got there, glorying in the warm breeze that ruffled his hair. He soared higher, circling around the pitch, enjoying the sense of freedom he always got from the wide-open skies. It gave him the chance to escape reality for a while, and the chance to organize his thoughts. He zoomed around faster, pretending to be looking for the snitch. He weaved in and out of the loops, feeling reckless. He spun and weaved; dodging imaginary players when suddenly a mop of red hair cut him off. He stopped, and Ron came up beside him, looking at him challengingly. Harry grinned and accepted the challenge, and took off. Ron chased him, both of them now weaving and dodging around the pitch. Ron almost had him once, but Harry was too fast for him. He was always one step ahead of his redheaded challenger. Exhausted, the boys finally headed for the ground. Harry collapsed on the field beside Ron, breathing heavily.
"All right there, mate?" Ron said as he gasped for breath.
"Yeah," grunted Harry. "Thanks. You know, for last night."
Ron shrugged. "You would have done the same for me."
They were silent for a while, trying to get their breath back.
"So, how was Neville this morning?" Harry questioned.
Ron grinned. "He had a nasty headache this morning, and you should have heard him scream when he saw his hair! `My Gran will kill me'," Ron said as he mimicked Neville.
"So was he pink through and through?" Harry asked.
"Oh yeah. You could hear him in the bathroom all the way downstairs," Ron laughed. "Mum had a fit. It was a good thing Fred and George weren't there. She made us all wait for breakfast while she made up a potion to change him back before his grandmother arrived. It was a nightmare having to wait!"
Nightmare…
Harry instantly sobered again and looked away. The silence hung heavy between them.
"Was it worse than before?" Ron finally asked quietly after a few moments of silence.
Harry nodded. "He knows Ron. He knows that you and Hermione are important to me. He wants to use you to get to me."
"Well then, I guess we had better be well prepared."
"You don't have to do this you know," said Harry.
"I know, mate," said Ron quietly, "but what kind of a friend would I be to let you go at it alone?"
"A live one," Harry said.
Ron snorted. "No one will live if You-Know-Who wins, Harry. My whole family is marked. I need to do this."
"What about Hermione?" Harry asked. "If anything ever happened-"
"Harry," Ron interrupted, "do you really think Hermione would let herself be left behind?"
"I just don't want her to get hurt," Harry said.
"She's pretty special," said Ron. He was quiet for a moment, thinking. "So, how do you feel about her?"
"Oh, she's…she's a great friend. Always been there for me, for us. She's smart, caring, and she always seems to know what I want, or what I need. I don't know what I would do without her." Harry smiled wistfully as he thought about her. He then looked up at the strange expression on Ron's face.
"She's, uh, just a friend Ron," he said quickly, turning red. "Nothing else. I mean, I… uh…don't fancy her, you know, she's your girlfriend Ron."
"Yeah, well about that. I've been meaning to talk to you-"
"Harry! Ron! Mum's looking for you!" called Ginny as she came onto the pitch.
Ron sighed. "Later," he said as he got up.
Harry looked at Ginny and saw that she was looking at him strangely before she turned and left. He thought it was odd, after the way she had been throwing herself at him the last few days, but he shrugged it off as he headed back to the Burrow. Who knew how girls thought anyway?
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