A City Visible But Unseen

Epilogue: CASTLES IN THE AIR

I have had a most rare vision. I have had a dream, past the wit of man to say what dream it was. Man is but an ass if he go about to expound this dream. Methought I was - there is no man that can tell what. Methought I was, and methought I had, and man is but a patch'd fool, if he will offer to say what methought I had...

...This is the silliest stuff that ever I heard.

Is the truth in dreams, or in waking life?

~

Seamus

He was walking down a stony corridor, with Dean, and, for some reason, Ron, Harry and Neville. They were dressed like actors out of Shakespearian play, but Seamus didn't find it odd, as he would in real life. It just felt normal, and right.

A montage of half-understood and half-seen images flashed through his brain. They mostly contained Dean. Dean with Ginny, once or twice, but there was no swelling bump in evidence. In fact, sometimes she held hands with Harry. Cedric was there too, flying through the air. It was clearly a dangerous thing to do, for the next instant he was lying in a football stadium, and he was dead.

And sometimes it was just Seamus and Dean, and although there were strange, luxurious four-poster beds, there were no clothes at all.

A flash of green light burst in front of his eyes, and he jerked awake.

Seamus scrabbled at his sleeping bag, and sat upright, nearly braining himself on the bottom of the bunk above him, where Dean slept. He cradled his forehead in his palms. He couldn't remember ever having dreamed so clearly before, and the images weren't fading, as they usually did. Not even the naked ones he had often, the ones he wished would hang around and which never did.

He stared ahead of him into the darkness. He should feel dead tired; it had been an eventful day. He didn't think he was going to go to sleep any time soon, though.

The dreams were just too cruel.

~

Remus

Sirius. Why was he with Sirius? They'd broken up a long time ago, and Remus had got over him. Truly he had. But there Sirius was, clear as day, lying in his bed, although Remus didn't recognise the room. He was laughing, and calling him. Bemused, Remus went.

Where was Lucius?

He appeared, side by side with Sev(erus, his mind added). They were both smiling, but their smiles turned Remus' insides cold. He looked at Sirius, naked and laughing without a care in the world. Marv came up behind Lucius and Severus, looming to three times his real size, and his eyes glowed as red as rubies. Their clothes suddenly evaporated, replaced by hundreds of writhing snakes. All at once, the snakes lunged, and swallowed Sirius whole.

Lucius and Marv were laughing, Sirius was dead, Remus was screaming, and Severus was saying, in a hoarse, tired voice, 'I wished him dead, you know that.'

Remus awoke with tears on his cheeks, and groped for his mobile phone. Shaking, he dialled Sirius' number.

''Lo?'

'Sirius - Sirius, it's me.' Remus took a deep, shuddering breath. 'Are you all right?'

'Of course I am, Remus!' There was a muffled enquiry on the other line. 'I'm fine, so's Lucius. What's wrong?'

'Nothing. Nothing.' Remus shook his head. 'It's - I dreamed you were dead, that's all.'

There was a throaty laugh. 'Remus. Go back to sleep. Dreams aren't real, you know that.'

~

Hermione

She knew straight away that she wasn't where she should be. The sky was dark above her; not a single star was afire, and there was no moon. There were occasional flashes of unnatural red and green light, interspersed with screams, but they became less and less frequent as she stumbled forward, not knowing where she was going, or why, only that she must.

She fell several times, over lumps in the ground. Once, a light went off when she was on her knees, and she saw to her horror that what she'd tripped over was a body. She scrabbled away, not wanting to see who it was, and cannoned into another.

She turned, and screamed. It was Harry.

His green eyes were open and glassy, his glasses cracked in many places. He had several cuts and bruises, none of which looked serious, but he was unmistakeably dead. His body was lying over that of an older, bald man.

Another flash, another scream, and a figure was approaching through the gloom. Light glinted off his pale head.

'Draco!' Hermione said in relief, managing to get upright. 'Where are we?'

'You've completely lost it, Mudblood,' he said, and although it was his mouth moving, that was not his voice, she could have sworn it. 'Seeing the death of the precious Boy Wonder must have addled your brain.' He twirled a cane between his fingers. 'Pity he took the Dark Lord down with him, but then, they are so easily replaced. Boy Wonders and Dark Lords.'

'What the hell are you talking about?' Hermione was angry now.

'You. Me. Us.' Draco gestured with the cane, smiling with no humour whatsoever.

'You and me.' Hermione's voice trembled. 'We. We are going out. We are going to Australia together...You inherited a fortune and we're going to travel...I am in lo-'

'You are delusional, Granger.' Draco's voice was as cold as the night itself.

'Where are we?' Hermione repeated, feeling hysterical now.

'We are at the bitter end,' Draco said, his eyes glinting in a flare of green light. 'At least, for you...'

He raised the cane. Hermione had no idea what he was doing, but with a primal instinct she backed away, and fell to her knees by Harry's corpse.

'I love you!' she screamed.

Hermione's eyes opened onto the dark, and she stifled a cry. As her sight resolved, she realised she was not on a battlefield but in the dorm room of Hogwarts Outdoor Adventure Centre, and that beautiful, reassuring moonlight was streaming in the window, and that all around her people were snoring or chatting in low voices.

'I love you,' she muttered, feeling a sharp dart of fear as she remembered her senseless, terrifying dream. She swung her legs out of bed and rushed from the room, short pyjamas only defence against the cold.

She had no idea where she was going, but she ran down a flight of stairs and Draco was standing at the foot of them, looking sleep-ruffled and angry.

'I dreamed -' he started.

'Me too,' she said, because she could see it in his eyes that it had been the same dream.

'What does it mean?' he whispered.

'Nothing,' Hermione said, firmly, willing herself to believe it. 'Nothing at all.'

~

Harry

Hermione was beckoning him to a table beside the fire. Ron was sitting with her. They looked very close; in fact, unless Harry was mistaken, they were holding hands. Harry started forward, smiling.

The scene changed, and Mr Snape was standing before him, glowering. Harry was on his knees on a cold stone floor, his stomach in knots. Snape hauled him upright, shaking his head in angry disapproval.

'Abysmal, as usual, Mr Potter!' he barked, before kissing him on the mouth.

There was a knock at the door, and Black entered, a sneer on his face. Harry wondered where his trainers were; he couldn't imagine Black without them. Then again, he couldn't imagine Black in a dress either, and he was.

'Remedial Potions, Potter?' he drawled. 'Isn't it my turn, Professor?'

He grabbed Harry's hand and started waltzing with him around the room. They came to a stop and Harry discovered he was holding Ginny in his arms.

'My mother wants to see the ring, Harry,' she said, blushing.

Of course! He had to give her a ring, didn't he? He looked in his pockets, but all he could come up with was a stick of wood.

Suddenly, he was all alone, in the dark.

'Would you like to see your parents again, Harry?' a disembodied voice asked, echoing in his head.

'Yes!' Harry replied eagerly, and felt himself dissolve away. He was in a tunnel, after all, and there was a pinprick of light at the end of it. Two figures were coming towards him.

'Harry! Harry, wake up!'

He opened his eyes to Blaise shaking him awake. He blinked, reached for his glasses, and asked groggily, 'What are you doing here?'

'I snuck in,' Blaise said, looking proud. She pushed him so that she could slither into his sleeping bag with him. Harry smiled.

'Are you okay?' she asked. 'You were mumbling in your sleep.'

Harry shook his head. 'I was having a dream about my parents, I think.'

'Oh, Harry.' Blaise's eyes were liquid with sympathy. 'Can you remember them at all?'

'Not really,' Harry said. 'I think I look like my dad. The Dursleys had a couple of photos of him, and my mum, but a lot of their possessions were left in their old house when it was sold.' He shrugged.

'Do you miss them?'

'No. I never knew them. And if they were around, I'd probably have loads of grief with them, like all parents.'

'Probably,' Blaise said, putting her arms around him with a contented sigh. 'All you can do is play the hand you're dealt. Maybe there's another you out there somewhere, with parents and a curfew and ten million girlfriends.'

'Or boyfriends,' Harry felt obliged to point out, although he was not entirely sure why.

'Cheeky,' Blaise grinned, and he kissed her on the head. 'Somewhere else, we could be anyone,' she added. 'It might as well be here.'

FIN