Harry Potter and the Dreamer of Fears

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Chapter One – Dreams and Premonitions

Guffawing laughter rolled around the Dursley home on Privet Drive.  Not unusual since every summer that Harry came home to live with his aunt, uncle, and bloated cousin.  Harry glanced once at the door that peeked a bit of light from the upstairs hallway then back at the recent letter he had received from his godfather, Sirius Black.

He knew that Sirius had been hiding out with Professor Lupin since the end of last school year, and Sirius had told him that he was going on some assignment for Headmaster Dumbledore during the summer, but he didn’t tell why.

Another chortle of laughter burst from downstairs where the Dursleys were watching television while eating cake.  They would have eaten pie, except Harry had blown it up (he had gotten angry since his uncle had made negative comments about Sirius and his father).

That was why he was in his room, a punishment (or Uncle Vernon so thought), for him, but in actuality, a relief to get away from his hated relatives.  He liked it in his room, even though it was sparse; it was quiet and peaceful and he could talk to Hedwig without his uncle yelling all over the place about the ("damn owl").

Glancing down at the recent letter Sirius sent him (with a giant paw print on the back of the envelope to act as a seal), he frowned and his brows burrowed slightly.

Sirius sent him a grim warning, along with his birthday present.  The birthday present was most unusual.  Owl feathers that were mottled brown with a few streaks of gold.  In a separate letter, his godfather told him that these owl feathers were for special purposes and not to use them unless absolutely necessary.  Harry wished that he could find out what the feathers were, but without access to the books from Hogwarts library, he couldn’t even find out a single thing about them.  He wanted to send a letter to Hermione about the owl feathers, but Hedwig was currently out hunting and it would have to wait until the morning before he could send a letter.

Harry took his eyes away from the letter that he held in his hand and glanced at the other small gifts on his bed, small enough that his uncle and aunt would not discover them.  Hermione had sent him a book on different spells and variety combinations of them.  Ron had sent him a quill similar to Rita Skeeter’s, except it was one in which was small enough so he could take notes or anything else on an invisible pad that would appear whenever he wanted it.  The rest of the Weasley family had sent him a bunch of candy and treats (he was thankful for that since he found out that Dudley was starting a new diet since the teachers thought of him as a bit too fat and couldn’t make the requirements on the health examinations).  Hagrid had sent him a book called Knowing Your Creatures: Creature Feature, for the next year curriculum.  And speaking of curriculum, Dumbledore had sent him something (that was shocking to him); a phoenix feather that he said, Fawkes wanted to give to him, and to keep it for special use.  Headmaster Dumbledore had also sent him a copy of the Daily Prophet, the list for new school year supplies and a letter that was similar to Sirius’.

Speaking of the letter, Harry glanced down once more at the letter in his hands.

            Dear Harry,

                I know that Dumbledore has sent you a phoenix feather.  It’s wise of him to do that, but you must take care that these feathers you have don’t fall into wrong hands.  It is very important that you do this.  I cannot tell you what these feathers mean as of now, but soon enough, you’ll find out.  Keep them close to you and do not let anyone else know about them.  You cannot trust too many people right now, not with You-Know-Who on the loose.  Trust your dearest friends and watch your back for your enemies.  Anyone can be your enemy if driven in a deadly path.  Harry, I must tell you that you are to be extremely cautious, more than before.  You are very much important to all of us, but most of all, you must report anything that is going on around you to Dumbledore.  He can help.  Be careful Harry, and do not fear fear.  I know that you will not listen to me if I tell you not to let your curiosity get the best of you and you start investigating things, but please, be cautious (I repeat).

                                                With all my love,

                                                                Sirius

Harry folded up the letter that Sirius sent him and laid down on his bed, his head bouncing up and down for a few seconds on the springs before settling down.  He knew that Sirius had been cleared of all charges (though some still suspected him as being a traitor) during the summer (that was a big announcement on the Daily Prophet Sirius had sent him along with another mini-sized owl like Ron’s except it was much more tamer than Pig).  But he didn’t know how the information was found and it didn’t say much on the paper, though Rita Skeeter had made some snide comment on her column below the article (he had found out that Hermione had released Skeeter and told her boss about what had happened and about the rumors that Skeeter’s boss got so furious and Skeeter was demoted).

He was glad that Sirius had been freed, but he wasn’t allowed to take Harry under his wing since the Dursleys had blood custody over him (that made Sirius mad).  He didn’t understand why the Dursleys wanted to keep him, though he kind of figured it was some form of entertainment, they would be able to demoralize him, hoping that he would find his wizarding ways so pitiful that he would be able to give them up.

Turning his thoughts to the letter, he ran the contents of the letter through his mind.  What did Sirius mean about the feathers?  Why was each so special?  Did they have something to do with the new school year or with Voldemort?  He shook his head slightly then concentrated on the last few lines of Sirius’ message.  What did he mean by "Do not fear fear…" What was that all about?  Does fear have something to do with the new school year?

He sat up and glanced at the mirror that was in his room, staring at his reflection.  He had grown a bit during the early summer, and he knew that his voice was changing with the bits of squeaks and high pitches that happened when he was talking (and got laughter from the Dursleys).  His jet black hair was still mused and the scar on his forehead, still prominent…

Harry suddenly stiffened as he saw Voldemort’s eyes next to his shoulder, then his face, then a hand reaching out to him.  The lightening bolt scar started to throb with pain and he winced, his hand touching it as fiery pain slashed through it.  He turned around suddenly and saw nothing behind him.  What the…

He turned back around and saw that Voldemort was gone, but his scar still hurt.  Taking his eyes off of the mirror he glanced down at Sirius’ letter folded neatly on his lap and opened it and reread it.

Suddenly his eyes felt heavy and his head swam.  Maybe if I just take a small nap…he thought to himself as he fell back onto his bed, already unconscious.

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A shadowy figure peered through Harry’s window and smiled slightly.  Then with a swirl, the figure flashed away.  Fear, Harry, fear the Dreamer…  A distant scream was heard a few minutes later…

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Harry remembered what Mrs. Trelawney’s Divination classes were like, he had fallen asleep in them a couple of times and unexpected dreams came from them.  This is what it felt like right now.  He knew that he was in the dream world, and the only way out was to let the dream run its course until the dream wanted to boot him out.

But the odd thing was that even though he was back at Hogwarts, it wasn’t his time period…it was something older.  He glanced at the Great Hall where the four banners of the Houses hung on each row of a long table.  Everything looked about the same except for the fact that something wasn’t right.

"…And so I tell her to buzz off cause she was running amuck in the Quidditch Field," a voice spoke, lightly baritone and there was something oddly familiar about it Harry thought as footsteps came closer to the entrance.

That’s when he saw four people he immediately recognized in an instant (he quickly sucked in a gasp of surprise though).  Peter Pettigrew, hanging a bit back behind the other three.  On Pettigrew’s left, a very young looking Sirius Black, then Professor Lupin (though he looked to be a student instead of a Professor), and lastly, his father, James Potter.  All four of them were chatting lively and they sat down at Gryffindor’s table, discussing something.

"You shouldn’t have, Prongs," Sirius replied to what James was saying as Harry approached the table cautiously, "you know that Lily has a major crush on you and saying that will hurt her feelings."

"I know, but…" James scrubbed his face with a hand and Harry caught the glimpse of a Prefect badge and a Year 5 underneath it (he didn’t know that his father was a Prefect when he was a 5^th Year Hogwarts student), "I was working on perfecting a move to score a goal and she knew better than to bother me at Quidditch practices."

"JAMES EDWARD POTTER!" a shrill voice broke the silence of the Great Hall and Harry stifled a laugh behind his hand as he watched a teenaged girl with long wavy brown hair and piercing green eyes marching in on the four (all who were looking quite abashed), her eyes blazing a fury like a hurricane.

"Uh…hi Lily," James replied scratching the back of his head while he glared at the other (they were snickering loudly, Pettigrew especially).

"James, apologize to me right now!" Lily tapped her wand on his chest, poking him hard.

"Uh…why," he replied, a bit confused.

"You deliberately shoved me off of my broom during practice!" Lily replied her voice now icy cold and her eyes looked as if they were chiseled from stone (Harry gulped at the sight of her.  He didn’t realize that her mother would be so quick to anger…)

"Well, you Missy, were bothering me!  You know that I want to try some moves during practice so we can at least beat Slytherin during their next game!"

"Why you-"

Harry never got to hear the rest of the argument as he felt something tug his mind and he flew out of the dream and suddenly sat up from his bed.

Tap.  Tap, tap.  Tap.

He shook his head slightly to clear away the remnants of the dream as the tapping became insistent.  He glanced at the window where the tapping came from and saw that Hedwig was back from her nightly hunt, carrying a limp dead mouse in her beak while holding an envelope in one of her claws.

"Hedwig!" he exclaimed happily as he jumped out of the bed (he didn’t really pay attention to the fact that he was in his pajamas and was settled in his bed).  Opening the window, his snowy white owl fluttered in and dropped the letter in Harry’s hands while settling on top of her cage, swallowing the dead mouse in one gulp.

Harry read the front address and noticed Dumbledore’s flowy script.  He opened it and glanced at the letter.

            Dear Harry,

            In a few days, someone will be picking you up to take you to Hogwarts.  I cannot tell you why at the moment, but you will find out soon enough.  Please be ready at the moment’s notice, we don’t have time to waste.

                                    Sincerely,

                                                Headmaster Albus Dumbledore

Harry reread the letter once more and frowned.  Why did the Headmaster want him at Hogwarts just a few weeks before the term started?  Did something happen to Sirius and Lupin?  Or did Voldemort attack in some form or way?  There was no reason given as to why he was to be picked up…

He shrugged and placed the letter next to the one Sirius sent him on top of his trunk.  I guess I’ll pack later, after when I’m done with breakfast, he thought to himself as he quickly changed into his clothes, rolling up the sleeves of Dudley’s unwanted long sleeve shirt and hurried down stairs.

Hedwig softly hooted behind him as the door closed.

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