Letters and Dreams

Author's Note: I started writing this ages ago, when I got a wonderful little plot bunny from sneakergeek, who suggested someone write about the dreams the characters were having before receiving their Hogwarts letters (eg. we know Harry had a dream about a flying motorbike). I had ideas for a bunch of other characters, but decided to leave it short and sweet. It's been sitting in my notebook for more than a year, I only finished it a little while ago. Anyway, here it is, in Riddikulus because I didn't know where else to put it (sorry about that, it just didn't fit anywhere else!). Oh, and additional disclaimer: some of the text (in Harry's story) you will recognise: it is, of course, directly from Harry Potter and the Philosophers Stone.

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~ Letters and Dreams ~

by moonmouse

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Even before he opened his eyes, he knew he was flying. The wind buffeting his face, and the irrepressible feeling of freedom, told him he was miles above his prison at number four, Privet Drive. He opened his eyes, squinting against the wind. There were stars above him, clouds all around him, lights flashing by below. He tried to twist around to get a better look, and realised that he was tightly wrapped up. Strangely though, he wasn't afraid at all - in fact, he felt rather safe and warm. There was a loud sound too, but that didn't scare him either. It was more of a friendly rumbling - like a motorbike. Yes, thought Harry. A flying motorbike. Somehow he didn't find the idea odd at all.

Harry heard a sharp tapping noise and opened his eyes. This time he didn't see clouds and stars. He saw an uneven roof, a small space, and quite a few spiders. 'Up! Get up! Now!' came his aunt's shrill voice from outside his door. Harry ignored her and sighed, trying to remember his dream. It had been a good one. There had been a flying motor bike in it. He had a funny feeling he'd had the same dream before... but a moment later, any thoughts of extraordinary dreams were chased from his mind by his screeching aunt, and The Boy Who Lived brushed a spider off his sock and prepared for another completely and utterly ordinary day.

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Ginny Weasley lay in bed braiding and loosening her hair absent-mindedly, deep in thought. It was summer, and she knew that soon her closest brother and last remaining playmate would be receiving a letter informing him that he had a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She knew she should be excited for him, but she couldn't help dreading the arrival of that owl - confirmation that this year, for the first time, Ginny would be left alone with her mother as the train pulled away from Platform 9¾, and would spend the year with no-one to distract her from her mother's history lessons with a game of Quidditch in the orchard.

But then, maybe it wasn't all bad news... Ginny let her mind wander its well worn path, and arrive at Harry Potter. He was just a few months younger than Ron, she had worked that out long ago. Did that mean he would be in Ron's year at Hogwarts? Maybe he and Ron would be friends... Ron could invite him to stay in the summer... and Harry Potter would walk inside and see Ginny casually leaning against the table, and be so struck by her beauty and her smile that he... The 9 year old girl rolled over with a smile on her face, fast asleep, already lost in dreams.

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Ron peeked around the door at the smile on his little sister's sleeping face, and for the thousandth time wished they were twins. How wonderful it would be to have another whole carefree year before starting at Hogwarts - or at least he would feel better if Ginny was pacing the house and worrying as much as he was. Unfortunately, he had expressed his idle wish about being a twin to his mother once, and had been driven out of the kitchen by a barrage of abuse, mostly about Fred and George. Ron climbed into bed and stared at the ceiling sleeplessly. There were so many things he was worried about... what if he was bad at magic? What if he got sorted into Hufflepuff, or even Slytherin? What if he made no friends? And at the back of his mind was lurking his biggest fear of all - what if summer came and went, and no letter arrived? What if he was a squib, and had to spend the rest of his life helping his mother with chores? What would he do if he was sent away to some muggle school to learn how to multiply numbers together, while his siblings were levitating things and cursing Slytherins? Ron Weasley shuddered, and when he finally fell asleep found himself in the midst of a horrible dream where his brothers laughed and sent objects flying at him, and his sister said that she wished she could stay and help but she had to go and be chaser for the Chudley Cannons, leaving him to attempt to defend himself by reciting times tables and quoting muggle plays.

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On the other side of England, another boy was having a similar dream. His relatives stood around him, shaking their heads in disappointment, as he threw himself off buildings and out of windows, bouncing as he hit the ground, trying desperately to prove that he had some magical ability somewhere in him. Neville tossed and turned, fighting his subconscious for peaceful sleep, but soon gave up and lay awake looking out the window. He had been desperately worried for months now - the only real sign of magic that he had shown in his life was bouncing down the road when his Great Uncle Algie dropped him out of a window, and he wasn't sure it was enough. Did Hogwarts accept students merely on the grounds of their bouncing abilities? Neville couldn't bear to imagine what it would be like not to get a letter. How disappointed his Gran would be! How disappointed he would be. He longer for the chance to learn new things, and make new friends - so much that he now felt that his whole life depended on the arrival of one owl. That's an unfair amount of stress for a 10 year old boy with a birthday approaching, Neville thought glumly, watching the stars twinkle in the cloudless sky. Hours later, his worries were still chasing each other around his head, and even when he drifted back to sleep again he couldn't escape his dreams, which invariably involved him bouncing.

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No such fears crossed Draco Malfoy's mind. He had no doubt that the letter would arrive later this week, and that in a little over a month he would take his rightful place at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall. All the same, there was a frown on his face as he sat in the large comfortable armchair, staring into the fire. For the past few weeks, he'd had a queasy feeling in his stomach that wouldn't go away. He'd told his mother, and she'd said it was probably food poisoning and fired a few house-elves, and he'd told his father, who'd told him to stop whining. Neither of these things had helped very much. Draco ignored the house-elf Dobby scurrying around the room, and tried to figure out what was bothering him. He had 7 years that promised to be exciting in front of him - 7 years to learn magic, to meet pure-blood wizards his own age, to see the teachers his father had told him about - teachers that probably still remembered Lucius Malfoy, the lazily brilliant student... with a start, Draco realised what had been troubling him all along. Would he be as good as his father? Would he live up to his expectations? Would everyone know him as Lucius's son? Furious with himself, Draco crossed the room and lay on his bed. No, he thought grimly. Everyone would know he was Draco Malfoy. He'd make sure of that.

And with that thought, he slipped into a deep, dreamless sleep.

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Hermione Jane Granger was slumped across her desk, her dark brown hair falling over her face and making it very difficult to read. The book in front of her was her new science textbook, and despite the lateness of the hour she would ordinarily have no trouble concentrating - but as it was, she hadn't turned a page in 25 minutes. The problem was - and it had only just occurred to her - it was all just so boring. This had come as quite a revelation to her, as she had always found school work fairly interesting - but all of a sudden, Scientific Perspectives and the whole pile of shiny new textbooks in the corner seemed daunting. Hermione wasn't the kind of girl who lay awake at night longing for excitement and adventure, but for once she found herself wishing for something, anything, to shake things up a little.

When her mother peered in 5 minutes later to tell her daughter to turn off the light and get some rest, she found her fast asleep, her cheek stuck to the paragraph about the atomic theory of matter.

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Bewildered, Hermione looked from the letter, to her parents, to the letter again. What an odd day she was having. First an owl flying into her bedroom window in the middle of the day, now a letter telling her that she was a witch, and she should go and buy a cauldron and a magic wand but strictly no broomsticks. Still, she thought, it did sound a lot more interesting than high school.

'So, er... can I go?' she asked her parents. Her father sat wearily at the kitchen table. 'The education system sure has changed since my day...'

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It was a day like any other day in the Malfoy household. The letter had arrived yesterday - it had earned a nod of acknowledgement from Lucius Malfoy before it was put aside. Draco didn't really care. His mind was set on the next 7 years, and he awaited them with the kind of casual yet steely determination that could only belong to a Malfoy.

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Neville smiled as his family gathered around him, singing 'Happy Birthday'. A certain letter that arrived the day before had put everyone in high spirits - Great Uncle Algie had even bought him a toad! Yes, Neville thought as he munched on birthday cake, life was good. Suddenly he looked around him, frowning. 'Has anyone seen Trevor?'

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Ron's knuckles were white as he gripped the windowsill, watching the distant dot in the sky. It grew closer, and he saw that it was indeed an owl. He held his breath as it swooped through the kitchen window, dropping a letter on the table. A quick glance was all it took to take in his name on the envelope, and the Hogwarts seal. Ron let out a whoop of joy and relief, and hugged his sister as he danced around the kitchen.

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Ginny grinned at her brother's delight, and hugged him tightly as he whooped and danced. A tiny part of her felt sad, but it was impossible not to let her brother's insane happiness get to her. She comforted herself with the thought that in a years time she too would have the letter, and be joining her brothers at Hogwarts. Besides, she thought with a secret smile as she waltzed with Ron through the house. There was always Harry Potter, and her dreams.

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There was silence inside the rundown hut, on a lonely island in the ocean. Only the sea and the whistling wind could be heard.

'I'm a what?' gasped Harry.

'A wizard, o'course,' said Hagrid, sitting back on the sofa, which groaned and sank even lower, 'an' a thumpin' good'un, I'd say, once yeh've been trained up a bit. With a mum an' dad like yours, what else would yeh be? An' I reckon it's abou' time yeh read yer letter.'

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