Lost At Sea

Chapter 1

Ghosts

Harry sat on the bed, his knees pulled up to his chest, shivering. It almost midnight, nearly two hours since Ron had woken him up, telling him he had been screaming again. So Harry had forced himself to stay awake, never wanting the nightmares again. The haunting.

Yet it came once more, creeping over him like a slight wind, lifting his hair in the unnatural breeze. He closed his eyes, trying to block out the sounds. Crying, moaning, the sounds of people screaming. Dying.

He heard death, ringing in his ears, filling him with despair. Try as he might, he could not block out their faces. Cedric Diggory, brave, bold, valiant. Harry saw his gray eyes flung open wide in judgment, staring at him as though he had seen a ghost. Cedric, who he had brought to his doom by asking him to take the cup with him. Harry shuddered, watching Cedric shake his head at him, glaring at him, accusing him.

Harry turned away, turned his head away from the boy he knew so well. A pair of shadowy, black eyes met his. Harry's chest hitched as she drew back, her long dark braid swinging behind her, still in her blood-soaked Quidditch robes. The blue and bronze eagle on her chest was tattered, and one of its wings was completely gone. She was staring at him, enveloping him in her gaze, speaking to him.

'This is your fault...your fault...why did you do this to us?'

It sounded like wind in his ears, the whispering now coming from all around him. Cho moved away from him, shaking her head and making it loll slightly. She turned her head to Cedric, and Harry could see the blood dripping down her neck. He almost cried out, but then stopped himself as another face came into view.

This time, he leaned forward, holding out his hands, reaching for her. Her earth brown eyes were sad, and she put her hand out to meet his. With a rush of coldness, he felt her touch go right through him. He stared at her, his face contorting with grief as her eyes filled with tears.

'Harry...why am I like this Harry? It wasn't you, was it Harry? Harry...'

Her red hair was rolling down in ringlets over her nightdress. It had been a painless death for Ginny...the Avada Kedavra curse in the dead of night. But that never stopped Harry from thinking that it was his fault...all his fault...

Ginny burst into tears, and Harry turned to see more and more people filling the room. Lupin, his robes in shards and his neck at an impossible angle. Seamus, his eyes wide and his mouth forming words that were lost in the shouting of the others. And in the corner...

Harry ripped apart his curtains and ran out of the room. He had to get out...had to flee them. He could feel the tendrils of cold pulling him back, but resisted. No...he had to get away...

Harry tore open the portrait hole, scrambled through the entrance, and ran down the stairs. All he was aware of was the impending cold. He must have lost them by now...

And then, without warning, Harry ran into something very solid.