A Different Type of Dream

Harry James Potter saved the Wizarding World on December 13th, 1999. He had personally killed Lord Voldemort, saved several damsels in distress, won many awards and participated in some of the many things that heroes do. His picture is plastered all over the Wizarding World, From Afghanistan to Zimbabwe. The Boy Who Lived, they hailed, is now the Man who Defeated.

And it was for this reason that the whole Wizarding World was in an uproar. On December 31st, 1999, Harry James Potter had vanished into thin air. He left a note for his surviving friends and family that he was just tired of being the hero, that he had done his duty, and that he was officially retiring his Hero status and going off to do his own thing. He left an Owl equivalent of a post office box, and melted into the Muggle World.

He decided to start university; he had a few strings pulled, and was attending a nice, private Muggle university in Southern Scotland. He had a part time job at a Boots, as a cashier, and lived in a small, two bedroom flat outside of Edinburgh. He loved his life like this. There were no Wizards to bother him. The only thing he missed was Qudditch, and he occasionally snuck out late at night, when his flatmate was asleep, and apparated to an old field far out from Muggle residencies, and played a few hours by himself.

The only true guilt that he felt about his life was the fact that his flatmate was in a certain amount of danger by simply sharing a flat with him. He had, of course, gotten a new identity, as Connor Michlam. And he seriously doubted that anyone would guess that shy, blushing Harry Potter would ever willingly room with a girl he had never met before.

Her name is Cordelia Amon, but Harry called her Cordy, and she called him alternately Conny, or poncy git, depending on her mood. When he had first responded to her advert about needing a flatmate, they hadn't realized that they were different genders. When they met for the first time, they had both turned a horrid mix of pink, purple, and red when they realized they were about to sign a contract forcing them to live together. They could both be very, very prim when it came down to it, and they were both shy, soft-spoken people. But Cordelia had invited over to the flat anyways, out of politeness, and it had ended with Cordelia ordering Chinese and a long night's discussion about world politics, music, and local footballers various talents over several hard-played games of Chess. Harry slept on the couch that night, and had signed the lease the next day. They attended the same university, but Cordelia was two years younger than he was. She worked in a small bookstore across the street from the Boots Harry worked at, and they usually walked home together after work. Neither of them had any friends other than each other, but they never really cared.

Harry checked his owl box once a week to see if anyone had sent any messages. He usually biked, but on this paticualarly fine Thursday, he decided to walk. It was about an hour away, but Cordelia had an hour and a half left on her shift, which left him enough time to get there, get his mail, apparate back to his apartment, and order some food before Cordy got home. She had been wiped out lately, and was having trouble sleeping, and Harry didn't want her cooking.

His thoughts drifted to his unusual friendship with Cordelia. They'd been living together for a year and a half now, and they had both had to fend off curious classmates who wanted to know just how close they two were. Harry admitted to himself that he thought Cordelia was pretty, if in an odd way. She had big green-grey eyes, thick hair that she dyed dark purple, and pale gold skin. She was as tall as most men; Harry barely had an inch on her. You couldn't really tell how old she was, but a lot of people tended to think she was still in secondary school. She wasn't cute, like Ginny Weasley, or stunning, like Fleur Delacour. She had a sort of rough personality, once you got past the shyness. Harry, upon meeting Cordelia's father last year, had overheard her father referring to her as a wolfish beauty. That made sense. Cordelia would never be a model, but she had a wild sort of look to her. She wasn't the prettiest girl he had ever seen, but she was attractive. She read a lot, and wrote a lot, and played piano whenever Harry had a horrid headache, which happened one or two evenings a week. He brewed her tea in the morning, and ran her bath for her when she came home from work on the days when half the store's inventory seemed to fall on her. They sat and watched old Monty Python skits and "Are you being served?" on the BBC at night, laughing until they cried. More than once, they had fallen asleep on the couch together. Neither of them thought it was weird, he realized with a start.

He shook his head and realized that he was in front of Dourif's Den. It was a small café that catered to Muggles, but was owned by a wizard, and had a small owl post system running in a hidden room in the back. He wandered in and was greeted by Maria Susanna, a highly attractive and even more annoying blonde who followed him around incessantly whenever he visited the den. Harry suspected she was a witch, but he'd never seen her wand or anything of the like.

"Good day, Maria. Is Christopher in? I need a word with him," he asked as politely and impersonally as possible. She nodded her head, then slipped her arm around his and started to steer him towards the back, giggling wildly and cooing at him. Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He thought back to the time when he had brought Cordelia here. It was only because it was raining, and he desperately needed to check his owl post. She had driven him up there, ostensibly to collect notes from a classmate. Cordelia had come in to the main dining area with Harry, both of them sopping wet. Harry had gone back to see Christopher, the owner, while Cordelia ordered a small coffee to warm her up. Harry had come back out to gather Cordelia so they could leave, but he started to hear Maria drilling Cordy and decided to listen for a minute.

"So how do you know Connor, anyways?" demanded Maria.

"I share a flat with him right outside Edinburgh. We attend the same university, and we work across the street from each other."

"So you're just flatmates? Right?" asked Maria in one of her most superior voices.

"We're friends also, girl." answered Cordy in a cool voice. She was clearly starting to ignore Maria, who was making spluttering sounds. Harry had smiled and walked into the main room, putting his arm around Cordy's shoulders and walking her back to their car.

Harry entered the back room and disentangled his arm from Maria's as fast as he could while still remaining polite. He threw himself into the small room in the back and was attacked by Hedwig. She dropped about five large bundles of parchment into his lap, and then fell into a small pillow and promptly fell asleep. Harry laughed, and opened his letters.

The first was from Remus. All was going well, and it looked like the repeal of the anti-werewolf laws could actually be passed by the Ministry. Severus Snape was helping a great deal by creating large quantities of Wolfsbane Potion and arguing that it did make a difference in the mind of a werewolf. Harry smiled even more; Remus desperately wanted to get his old job as the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts, and Charlie Weasley wanted him to take it so he could go back to Romania and his beloved dragons. Other than that, it was the normal to-dos.

The second was from Minister Fudge. There was going to be a big to-do around Easter, and he would appreciate it greatly if Harry would please come to the dinner, he was sorely missed and the world wanted to know how he was doing. Harry snorted. Even if he had wanted to, he couldn't go to the dinner; he couldn't take time off of work to go, and he would probably be buried in homework from his history teacher. Besides, he didn't know if he could make up a reasonable excuse to be gone for an entire evening. He had told her he hadn't had contact with his family in years and never expected to. He wondered if he even wanted to leave Cordy at home by herself. He shook his head violently. Why was he thinking about Cordy so much all of sudden?

The third letter was from Ron, Lavender, Terry and Parvati. They were sharing Terry's family house in rural England; his family had died in the war, and Terry didn't want to live alone. Life was going well. Ron and Lavender's relationship was flourishing, and Terry and Parvati were probably going to end up together anyways. All the remaining Weasley's were fine, save Charlie, but he had just been kind of quiet as of late. Rom figured it was about a assistant-professor at Hogwarts who had "the body of a naiad and the face of a veela." Charlie denied it vehemently.

The fourth letter was from Severus Snape, who kept him informed of current political doings and on the Order of the Phoenix. Harry was still officially a member, although he hadn't attended a meeting in two years and had absolutely no interest in going to another one. Harry and Snape had a shaky but decent relationship, and Harry needed Snape's brutal honesty about things.

The fifth letter was from Hermione, and it made him frown. She sounded quite lonely. she was studying at Feng University in China as an exchange student from Stonehenge. Her grades were phenomenal, as usual, but no one ever bothered to visit her except Charlie Weasley. Ron was too busy mooning over Lavender, Hermione's parents had no love for Wizards any longer and had little contact with her. Ginny was a student at Faie College, studying Mediwizarding, and owled Hermione as often as possible, and even Floo'd there from time to time, but the schedules and time differences for the two schools were too off to make visiting a regular thing. Charlie, apparently, apparated there twice a week to make sure she was alright to and bring messages from everyone in Britian. He originally went on behalf of his mother, but from Ron and Hermione's letters, Harry gathered that he was rather fond of his bookworm beauty, and willingly spent lots of time with her. Hermione also wrote that she had started to take an interest in dragons, probably because of Charlie, and was thinking of visiting Romania over Spring Break with Charlie, and would he please come? Harry knew he couldn't deny her that. He wrote a letter affirming he would visit her for a few hours, but that was all he could spare, and to please ensure that no one in the Ministry found out he was visiting her. He wrote off the rest of his obligatory letters, and then apparated back to his apartment.

He stepped out of his room and nearly stepped on Ari, Cordy's orange and white tabby. He stooped and picked her up, scratching her belly and back. Ari purred in contentment. He placed her back on the ground, and waited for her to rub against his legs and then walk off before heading to the kitchen to call for food.

When he hung up, he heard the door burst open and Cordelia stumbled in. She was visibly upset, and kept fumbling her packages trying to keep everything upright. Harry ran in and caught several of the packages on their way down, and kicked the door shut.

"What's up? Cordy?" he asked cautiously. She looked ready to either burst into tears, or rip someone's throat out. He felt a strange surge of anger.

"It's that prat, Sullivan. He went through my wallet after I dropped it, and he found out my middle name is Doran. It's not a big deal, but he wouldn't shut up, and I wanted to just punch the hell out of him. I told him he had bloody well shut up, that it's just a flaming name, but he wouldn't, and his great git of his friend was joining in."

"You can just phone Douglas and tell him what happened. I'm sure it will all be sorted out," murmured Harry, putting the packages down and holding her hand.

"I can't, Connor! Sullivan fired me. I don't know how to get a hold of Douglas at all. And he fired me for what may be the stupidest reasons. I hate him. I HATE HIM!" she wailed and kicked the chair in the hall. Harry was dumbfounded. "Why did he fire you, Cordy?" She sniffled.

"When I was yelling at him, half the flaming shelf above him fell on him. It almost knocked him unconscious. His git friend pointed at me and said I had did it. As if I could somehow cause a bookshelf 15 feet above him fall on him, me being on the other side of the store!" she sniffed indignantly. "I'll beat his ass into the ground, I will, and I'll enjoy every bloody second of it!"

Harry resisted the urge to smile. Normally, Cordy was a very quiet, gentle, soft-spoken girl, but when she was mad, she could curse so fast and hard she could have made the Weasley twins tremble in fear. The back of his neck prickled. Something was off. The living room window was open, and a gust of wind came out so fast that it nearly knocked Harry off of his feet. Cordelia stopped ranting for a moment and let the wind blow over her, and Harry had the sudden visualization of a Queen on her throne. Cordy really did have her moments.

"Who was Sullivan's friend?" he queried. Cordelia had a knack for picking up and remembering the smallest bits of information. Harry still had his wand, and he knew some jinxes that could happen enough in the Muggle world without arousing suspicion. Cordelia, folded her arms, apparently calmed down enough, and muttered sullenly.

"Michael Corner." Harry froze.

Cordelia looked at him oddly. "Do you know him? A little shorter than I am, with dark blonde hair and a freckles? Bit of a brain?"

Harry, too stunned to think, simply nodded. "I..I went to Hog- I mean, I went to secondary school with him. We were in the same year, but we were in different dorms, so I didn't know him that well. He dated a friend of mine's sister, and then went out with my exgirlfriend." Harry, who realized that he had just let slip more than he should have, looked horrified, but Cordy didn't appear to notice.

"Well, he's a great big twat, and I don't care if he went to your school or bloody went to Eton, I hope he falls into a pit of arachnids and gets eaten alive, bullocks first!" she seethed. Harry herded her into the kitchen and made her some lemon tea, silently musing the possibilities of the whole situation. No one knew where he was; Hedwig was given explicit instructions not to allow any owls or other creatures follow her at any time. Harry knew that he had never once mentioned where he was living, or where he was studying. He had never even mentioned his major - medieval history - to anyone, knowing that even that bit information could narrow down where he was.

Harry also knew that people from the Ministry were looking for him. Although it was well known that he was very much alive and kicking, people still wanted to know where he was and what he was doing in his life. He had memory-charmed two Ministry Officials who ran into him when he was shopping in Edinburgh a few months ago. He just wanted to be left in peace. He liked his quiet, boring life. He had school, a nice, low-key job that didn't involve murderous Dark Lords and a great friend he could confide in. His first and only friend who liked him for him, and couldn't associate his name with power and greatness and celebrity.

So what were the odds that Michael Corner was randomly stepping into a small bookstore in a small town in Scotland? His brows knitted. He would have to see what's going on.

"Connor? Connor, dear, are you okay?" Harry looked up at Cordelia. "Are you alright? You look like you just ate a barrel of horned toads," said Cordelia quietly. Harry squeezed his eyes shut. Neville's bloody faced danced in his mind's eye. No. Concentrate. He had to see what Michael Corner wanted, and he had to keep Cordelia out of this. He needed her to stay safe. He nodded slightly. "I'm fine. Cordy. It's all cool." The doorbell rang, and a minute later, Cordelia brought in an armload of Chinese food and some soda. They ate, talked, and went outside to watch the comings and goings of various townspeople. Cordelia smoked like a chimney, much to Harry's concern, but she threatened to burn his hair off if he didn't leave her and her addiction alone. At about eleven, Harry and Cordelia decided to turn in. She decided to take the couch that night, as all her bedding had been left in the washing machine by accident. Harry dragged out an extra blanket for her, and, on a whim, brought out an extra pillow and blanket for himself and made himself comfortable on the floor. they talked for a little while, and then gradually, they both fell asleep.

Harry opened his eyes. He knew it wasn't even close to day time yet, but he heard Cordelia talking to him. He sat up to ask her what it was, but he couldn't get her to respond. He frowned, and opened a curtain. Cordelia was asleep, talking frantically.

"No, Connor, you can't go.. who are these people? Make them stop Connor, they're trying to break in! They're hurting me! No!" Harry froze.

"They have masks on, I can't see what they look like. They have weird wooden sticks. They want me, Connor, but I swear, they can't make me talk. They can't make me like them, and I won't let them make you like them. You cannot have me, monster, and you can't have Connor either. We're not like you! Don't touch him! Conny! NO! My dreams are my OWN! You can't use me! I am not a tool!"

Cordelia sat straight up. She looked straight ahead. "Hunt me if you will. I am no easy meat." She shook her head and seemed to come to, and started to cry softly. Harry touched her shoulder. She stiffened. "The dreams are always the same, Connor." she said softly. "They're always after me, but they'll never touch me. And I won't let them have you. I don't know why they want you too, but I won't let them." Harry was truly confused. Who was they?

The door burst open. Harry, who had tightened his grip on Cordelia's shoulder, pulled her and rolled them over the couch. He whipped out his wand. "Accio glasses!" He shoved them on, and motioned for Cordelia to stay down.

"Connor, what on God's green Earth is going? How did you just do that?" asked Cordelia quietly. In the back of Harry's mind, he thought that she didn't sound scared, or even surprised, but merely curious. Certainly not scared. He gripped her hand and muttered, "Whatever happens, don't let go of my hand, okay, Cordy? And don't make any noise."

She tightened her grip and whispered, "I won't, Conny." She fumbled under the couch, and to Harry's surprise, brought out a small white knife. He looked at her curiously. "My dad said I might need this with you around. I don't think he quite meant for this type of situation, though," she whispered dryly. She looked up. "Shall we?" Slowly, they rose, and looked at the figure in the doorway.

It was Michael Corner and Cho Chang.

"Ah, Potter. We've found you at last," said Michael triumphantly.

"Hello, Harry. Long time, no see," said Cho coyly. Harry's grip on Cordelia's hand tightened convulsively; he heard her gasp in slight pain. She looked at him. "HARRY?" she mouthed. He looked at her, and she understood. It was a long story, and it would be a long night.