The Dream

He was back there again, in The Place. A thousand times he had stood here, yet he did not know this was one of them. He was aware of the fear, however. A presence washed over him, chilling him to the bone with its aura. The Place. Yes, that was what it was called, for the abomination of the name itself was too great for him to bear. Looking down, he was not bound, yet he could not move. Something made him stand there, stock still, staring into a night that he knew was darker than it should be. A flash of light. Lighting. It illuminated his face, and suddenly he was looking down at himself, saw his tousled hair, the frightened light in his green eyes, and the glowing. The glowing of his scar. Why was it glowing? He was back in his body, looking out through his eyes, and his head was filled with pain. Grabbing at it, two tears leaked out of eyes scrunched together at the pain. what-- he knew what would be causing him hurt, and yet he didn't. It was in the back of him mind, he must remember.... he must, before it got him....

Too late.

He tried to close his eyes, but saw through them. Tried to shield himself against the realization of the fear. Tried-- but failed. His eyes hidden behind hands and closed still saw, still saw two pinholes of red light piercing into him, into his forehead.

No.

Please.

He was forced to look and as he gazed into a pale face, a sob shook him. He couldn't bear this, he knew what would happen, this had happened before, he was drea--

His mind emptied, this was the first time this had ever happened. It was real.

He shook as his unknowing eyes teared against the light in Voldemort's face... and the Dark Lord laughed. Mirthless, it hurt his ears and burned his flesh. He struggled against the invisible bonds, and tried to turn away, but to no avail. Voldemort laughed louder.

More tears slipped down his cheeks as the acid of the sound, yet he knew it would not be the worst. No, it would not be, yet the thought was instantly smeared from his mind.

And it appeared.

one by one, they all sprang out of a wand he was suddenly holding, his gaze transfixed and unable to move as they came.

They came.

Hermione, looking curious, with a mildly happy look on her face, and Ron, tilting his head in greeting to him. Ginny and Seamus, Dean, Neville, Dumbledore with inquisitive, half-moon glance, and Lupin. Cho sprung out, beaming, and Luna, Hagrid stumbling around the others, and a gaggle of red-haired Weasleys. He stared at his uncontrollable wand as Sirius smiled at him, knowing what was next. They were always after Sirius, that was what had happened before--what? there was no before. This had never been. And yet they came.

his eyes widened in surprise and recognition as both Lily and James Potter stepped down from the wand's height. He could move, now. The ropes of air had vanished, leaving him to run towards the two, arms out in embrace.

But he had forgotten.

Yes, he had forgotten.

Voldemort was still there.

And the forgotten had still been there, lingering in the back, and as he rushed out to hug them--either of them, they had vanished. A green mist filled the air, and he started to tremble inconsolably, weeping like a child.

M-m-mum? Da-ad? He rushed to Hagrid, the one closest, yet the half-giant disappeared. Eyes widening, hand outstretched, Ron fell from his reach. Hermione and Ginny turned to nothing as soon as he got close, and suddenly he was aware of the laughter, again.

The cackling.

Neville? Cedric? Choooooo! Professor!!! Each crumbled from his grasp and, with a flash of green light, none of them were there. He was face to face with the red eyes.

The mouth opened to speak, and he knew it would be worse than the laughter, yet he didn't care. He was screaming.

SEAMUS!!!! DEAN!!!??? MR. WEASLEY? ROOOOOOOONNNNNNNNNNN-----

He could still hear what the voice called, and he didn't want to know. No, he didn't want to know. He just needed to find, just needed to bring back--

"Harry! Harry!" a hoarse voice was calling his name, and he opened pained eyes to see Sirius kneeling next to his bed. "Harry... what's wrong...."

His face was wet with tears, and from the deadened look on Sirius's face, he must have been screaming.

"Please don't let him take my friends...please..." disoriented, frightened eyes looked up at the man's face, a look of complete pain etched across it.

"I-I won't, Harry," The darkened eyes searched the boy's expression. "You've suffered so much," he mumbled to himself, "I won't...I won't let him," he said aloud, as the boy's confused face turned a little paler.

"You either? You...you won't go?"

The man closed his eyes, and somewhat shakily added, "I'll t-try." He rumpled the boy's hair and, with a whisper of goodnight, stepped slowly out of the room.

Looking back on the doorstep, the boy's eyes had drooped. A shadow passed over the man's face and he slowly nodded again in recitation.

"I'll try."