Harry Potter and the Truly Weird and Slightly Disturbing Dream

Harry's eyes snapped open and he sat up straight in bed with a gasp, staring wildly around him.

"Harry?"

Harry turned sharply to look at the source of the voice. Ron was propped up on his elbows in bed, having clearly just been woken up. He was watching Harry through bleary sleep-filled eyes, a look of mixed concern and confusion on his face.

"What's the matter? It wasn't another dream about You-Know-Who, was it?"

Harry suddenly found he couldn't look Ron in the eye. A blush crept up his face as he shook his head.

"Sirius?"

Shook his head again.

"Another one about Bellatrix Lestrange being gored by a rampaging Erumpent and exploding into a thousand tiny bloody pieces?"

Another shake, but with a slight smirk.

"Then what?"

"It was really weird. My dreams are always weird but this was probably the weirdest."

"What happened?" Ron asked, pouring a glass of water from the jug on his bedside table and drinking from it.

Harry hesitated a moment, then, shifting round to face Ron, he began, "Okay, you and I were having sex..."

Ron spewed the water all over the bed sheets.

"What?!"

"That's not the whole dream."

Ron hesitated, then said, "Okay, go on."

Harry immediately started talking very fast.

"Right, you and I were having sex in here, and then your mum comes in and starts having a go at us for doing it in secret. She says we're not supposed to be doing it unsupervised because someone has to watch and report every detail to Dumbledore, because he has to know all about our sex lives in case it holds the key to defeating Voldemort. And then Rita Skeeter comes in with her Quick Quotes Quill and that photographer that was with her and starts asking loads of questions like what brand of lubricant we use, do we prefer to do it face to face or doggy style, are we going to be getting married etc. And I said to her that we weren't going to tell her all those things and she started going on about the public right to know. And the photographer is taking lots of pictures of us naked, and we're trying to cover up but the sheets have all disappeared. So we've got Rita talking in one ear and your mum lecturing us in the other, and then Madam Pomfrey comes in wearing a St Mungo's uniform and says that we're pregnant! And your mum tuts and says, 'See, this is what happens when you do it unsupervised' and that now we have to get married and the baby has to be sent to live with the Dursleys because we can't take it to Hogwarts because Umbridge passed Educational Decree number 30 which says babies aren't allowed, and the people at Grimmauld Place are far too busy to look after a baby. And I tried to tell her that the baby can't be sent to Privet Drive because Uncle Vernon is a hag and that he eats children. But your mum holds up a contract and says it's too late, it's already official, and Rita says, 'How does that make you feel, Harry? Angry? Upset? Relieved? Do you think your need for sex with your friends stems from your lack of affection growing up? Or do you think your relationship with Cho Chang scared you away from girls for life? How do you think your parents would feel if they knew?' And then your mum starts asking questions about the wedding, like what theme colours we want to have. And then the Dursleys come to take away the baby, which suddenly appeared out of no where, and as they left Aunt Petunia was telling Uncle Vernon that she has a lovely recipe for boiled baby stew, and that the secret is to add a touch of red wine for flavour. And I tried to protest but your mum was still asking me about theme colours, and then I woke up."

Ron stared.

"I know. I think I need therapy."