AUTHOR's----------Thanks. Hope this one's a good one.
Harry dreamed of the Pyramids again.
This time, he got to Sirius, the pool....
He stretched out his fingers to touch the water, but felt nothing. Just air. Again he looked to Sirius, who simply nodded, smiling, and pointed directly at the water.
Harry reached out again, dreamlike, and stuck his arm underwater. He felt nothing. Unpertubed, he stepped in, and "submerged" himself.
There was a flight of stairs leading into the underground.
Grinning, he turned back to Sirius above the illusional water, but he had disappeared. Slightly disappointedly, he descended down the winding staircase, since that seemed where he was supposed to go next.
After what seemed like an hour, Harry found himself in a beautiful, vast, elegant underground cavern. Gigantic pillars of ancient stone crossed both left and right.
As Harry peered closer, he could see that strange, green-glowing hieroglyphs decorated the walls and the pillar.
The entrace hallway was brightly lit by blinding green columns of spiralling emerald light. But those didn't matter to Harry. He knew where to go. An arch of stone loomed before him, on the opposite site...
...the dream changed.
Harry found himself in a small, cozy house, it was around nighttime.
He was dressed in dark robes, hand clutched about his wand.
It was a dream so he couldn't control what he was doing. Then, of their own accord, his body moved.
Harry's possessed dream form moved toward the front door of the house. The hand with the wand pointed toward the doorknob. A small jet of orange light hit the doorknob, and the door burst open.
Harry stepped inside. The main storey of the house was unlit, but there was light from above, and he could hear voices. Panicking. Urgent.
"Lily, take Harry and run! It's Him! Go! I'll hold him off..." A male voice yelled.
"But - "A female voice began to protest.
"Go! Go now!"
Now Harry could hear footsteps running downstairs.
A lit wandtip emerged, and a tall man with unkempt hair, glasses, and hazel eyes ran downstairs to face him. He waved his wand once and the lights flickered to life.
And Harry's mouth moved of its own accord:
"So.... James Potter. We meet again."
"You will not take my son's life." the man said calmly, his wand already in a duelling position.
"Can't I?" Harry laughed, a cold chilling sound. "James, you know that I must kill you and your son."
"You may take my life if you wish," James snarled. "But you shall never kill my son!"
James raised his wand, but Harry was too quick for him.
"Avada Kedavra!"
A huge flash of emerald light, a rush of speeding death....
James slumped lifeless to the floor.
Harry stepped on the corpse contemptuously, and proceeded upstairs to the sound of a woman crying.
He stepped inside, and saw the woman holding a newborn child against her.
"Not Harry...not Harry!" the woman cried, seeing him enter the room. "Anyone but Harry, please, no...not Harry!"
Harry snorted. "Stand aside, you silly girl - stand aside, now."
He made to step forward, but the woman blocked him from the boy.
"Not Harry, please not Harry..."
Harry had had enough. "Avada Kedavra!"
The woman was dead before she hit the floor, and Harry laughed again.
And finally, at long last, Harry turned to the boy, who was staring at him, neither crying or moving.
"So, little child," he chuckled. "I see that you do not fear me..good. Let it be known, Harry Potter, that the prophecy be fulfulled this night."
He raised the wand. "Avada Kedavra!"
And pain struck him, pain beyond pain. Harry screamed, a wordless sound that distorted as his body was stripped of him.....
"ARRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGHHHH!!!!!"
"Harry! Harry, are you OK? What happened."
Harry sat bolt upright in his bed, drenched in perspiration. "A dream, just a dream..."
All three of the Weasley brothers he was rooming with were wide awake and alert.
"What, a nightmare?" Fred hissed.
"What was it about?" George whispered.
Harry looked to Ron, who understood.
"Was it...him?"
Harry nodded wordlessly.
"What happened in the dream?" Ron asked urgently.
Harry did not want to tell him about the pryamids.
"I dreamt..." he began, his voice dry. "I dreamt that I was Voldemort....the night when my parents got killed."
Fred and George made a squeaking noise. Ron swallowed.
"So....you mean that you were in his eyes when he killed your parents?"
Harry nodded again.
"Blimey, Harry." Ron said weakly.
It was a long time before Harry realised his face was wet.
AUTHOR's REPLY---- Thanks. Sorry, it's all filler again.
Harry woke up next morning feeling perfectly fine. Ron treated him as normally, and Harry was very grateful for that. However, he could not say the same for Fred and George. Ever since last night, they had been subdued considerably, to the extent that even Mrs. Weasley grew curious.
"What is it with you today?" she asked them in a hushed voice. "No jokes, no cracks, nothing. You've barely spoke this morning."
"Nothing." they said simultanously.
"Hmm..." Mrs. Weasley continued to watch the twins through narrowed eyes, as if half expecting a large bundle of Dungbombs to go off in the other room. Harry supposed she had her reasons; the only times that Fred and George were quiet like that were when they've done something extremely bad, or if they found out something tragic.
Harry was glad that they didn't tell Mrs. Weasley about the dream he had the night before. The last thing he needed was for everyone to know and caring for him as if he were helpless. However, Hermione was looking at him strangely, and without a doubt Harry knew that Ron had informed her. He was thinking along the same lines as Ron: she had a right to know.
"Well, we've jumped out of the frying pan, only to land into the fire." Mr. Weasley said, slumping down and digging uninterestedly at his hardened toast.
"What happened now, dad?" Bill asked.
"Well, as you know, we're trying to protect the Muggles," Mr. Weasley sighed. "And it's important that we keep the Muggle leader safe, their government. We've managed to keep You-Know-Who from causing any serious damage, but someone's close friend disappeared. Now they're hounding us to do something about it."
"Yeah, well." Harry said resignedly. "Muggles will be like that. If they can find a simple solution to a problem, It's guaranteed that they are going to pounce on it."
"Which is why we don't take magic for granted." Harry could hear Ron mutter under his breath.
When Harry excused himself, Hermione leapt up too and sat down with him in the living room.
"Ron told me about your dream last night, is it true?"
"Yeah." Harry said tersely.
"Oh, I'm sorry, Harry." Hermione leaned back for a while and held his hand. For a while, it was all they did.
Ron walked in. "You all right?"
Hermione didn't answer, instead looking toward Harry.
Harry shrugged. In truth, he did not know if he was all right or not. For some time, he had wondered how exactly his parents had died, what Voldemort had done. And now that he knew the truth, he would've rather been rid of the sickening reality.
***
AUTHOR'S REPLY----You know, I just realised that I have only two and a half months to finish this thing before the real book comes out. Here's more filler.
In the days leading up to Christmas, the household started becoming more raucous and cheerful, even Harry. No nightmare could have ruined Christmas, and Harry was certainly not about to try or take chances.
The holiday spirit and gotten most to Fred and George's heads, and they were very jolly during the week leading to Christmas Eve. Harry and Ron had even walked in on them drinking spiked Butterbeer and singing "When the Saints Come Marching Forth" in extremely slurred voices.
The mood had uncovered a deep anxiety with the females in the house. Ginny and Hermione were helping out with decorations and being rather protective of it - when Ron approached them, Ginny hurled an ornament at him.
"Barking mad, they are." Ron muttered quickly, ducking out of range.
Mrs. Weasley had informed them that the rest of the Order were coming for Christmas Eve, some staying for presents the next morning. She was under a lot of pressure to keep Fred and George from getting drunk and doing something chaotic, and at the same time watch over the rest of her children. On top of the lot, she was tasked with cooking Christmas dinner, along with Dobby's help.
"Try and help the girls out with the decorations, won't you?" she told Ron and Harry.
"We can't," Ron protested. "If we come within a few feet of them, they start chucking stuff at us."
"That's nice." his mother said absentmindedly.
Ron just shook his head. "All this hustle and bustle is going to get to my head one day."
Harry approached the two girls again carefully, who were spreading magical frost from their wands onto a large Christmas tree that Tonks and Dedaelus Diggle had donated.
"Want any he - "
He quickly ducked a fake icicle that was thrown at him.
"Really, you two!" he said indignantly. "I'm only trying to help."
"No, no, Harry." Hermione said, her voice strained. "You'll mess it up. We have to do the tree, the dining room, and the second floor by evening."
Ignoring him, she went straight back to work, now conjuring a bright shiny star for the treetop.
Ron was reading a comic book idly when Harry returned. Wizarding comics were much more enjoyable than Muggle ones, due to the fact that the pictures actually moved freely.
"They hit you?" Ron asked slyly.
"Almost," Harry replied.
"Find anything to do yet?"
"They haven't decorated the second floor yet, you want to get a head start on them."
Ron shrugged, and trotted upstairs.
When they stepped on the landing, they saw Dobby in one of the adjacent hallways, who was putting up wreaths and bright red bobbles along the hall.
"Well, the good thing about letting house-elves do decorations is that they're creative." Ron said lightly.
"Harry Potter, sir!" Dobby grinned at him cheerily. "Dobby has been helping out with the decorations, sir."
"Yeah, we can see that." Harry said, chuckling.
"You finish up here, Dobby," Ron told him. "We're going to get started on that other hallway."
"Yes, sir!" Dobby bowed them out.
"This isn't so bad," Harry told Ron. "You should've seen what he did to the Room of Requirement last year, before Christmas holidays."
Ron frowned. "I don't remember seeing anything weird."
"Yeah, that's because I luckily arrived there first and ripped them all down."
***