Design for Life

Chapter 1. - Hints of Mystery

Inside the dungeon, the shapes of hooded figures could be seen congregating by the dim, green candlelight. Arranging themselves silently into a circle, the apprehension that filled the room was almost tangible. They knew they were their master's most faithful servants, or else they would not have been entrusted with this most secret and vital task, but even they were unsure if the act they were going to perform would work. Their master had assured them that the spell he had been working on would be perfect, and that the aim that had eluded them could not fail to come to pass once their enemy had been weakened in such a personal way.

Suddenly the door to the underground hall swung open and crashed against the wall. It might have been a trick of the flickering candles but maybe some of the assembly jumped at the arrival of the most hated figure in their world. The man in black strode across the floor and positioned himself in the centre of the circle. He raised his hands, as though he was calling the company to silence, an empty gesture since the silence in the room was already absolute, and began to speak...

Not for the fist time Harry Potter woke with a start. Something was wrong, he knew it, but for the life of him he couldn't think what the something could possibly be. He glanced around the circular stone dormitory he shared with the four other boys, and saw that Dean's bed was unoccupied, as it had been for the past week. Harry smiled, despite the nagging ache in his chest, glad that he wasn't in Hermione's room. She had been coming down to breakfast looking very grumpy recently and Harry and the rest of the Gryffindors supposed that this was due to her proximity to Lavender's study bedroom, where despite denials from both parties, everyone knew exactly what Dean and Lavender got up to at night. Both Hermione and Lavender had been given separate study bedrooms because they were prefects, but the walls at the very top of the Gryffindor dormitory tower were notoriously thin.

Harry could feel his heart beating inside his chest now, and he lay back down on the bed feeling sick and very out of breath. Although he had never suffered asthma, he supposed that this is what it must feel like, every breath was a struggle and he could almost feel his lungs begin to shut down. He tried to call out but knew that if he did, the pain would become worse. Then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the feeling ended. He lay still for a while, trying to calm down and prepare in case it came back, but in the end he fell back to sleep.

"Get up, you lazy creature! Breakfast needs to be made!" Harry jerked awake as the sound of his Aunt Petunia rang out. He sat up and looked around him, searching for his glasses. He picked a spider off them and put them on carefully, hoping that the sellotape holding them together would last out another day. He found his trousers - cast-offs from his cousin Dudley and was just pulling them on when he Aunt shouted again: "Come on, up, NOW!" and banged on the door.

Harry sighed. "Yes Aunt, I'm coming." he called, and pulled on his grey school shirt. He opened the door of the cupboard under the stairs and emerged into the hallway of number 4 Privet Drive. He hurried to the kitchen and set about making breakfast for the rest of the family. He set the table almost on autopilot and as he was placing the boxes of cereal he realised that he hadn't even thought about his Chemistry homework that was due in that morning. He shrugged to himself, what did another detention matter to him?

Harry was buttering toast as his Uncle and Cousin came downstairs. They took their seats with Aunt Petunia at the breakfast table and Dudley immediately filled the huge bowl in front of him with his favourite cereal, which was chocolate flavoured and had added marshmallow pieces that floated to the top of the milk.

As usual the family ignored him completely, engrossed in Dudley telling them about his plans for the day and the birthday party he had been invited to at the local Ice Rink. There would be Burgers and Ice Cream for dinner he said, and asked his doting parents to find something more impressive to do for his own birthday in a few months. Vernon smiled indulgently at his son and promised that if Mrs Figg could take Harry for the weekend he would treat Dudley and some friends to a trip to Disneyland outside Paris. Dudley seemed satisfied with this and while Petunia and Vernon were discussing what they would need to do, Harry took the chance to keep two pieces of toast back for himself. He slipped out of the room and back into the cupboard to finish getting ready for school. He pulled on Uncle Vernon's old socks and his battered pair of trainers and pulled his already knotted school tie on over his head. Grabbing the bag of schoolbooks, which had been treated to Dudley throwing them in the pond the day before in one of his fits of spite, he shouted goodbye to the family in the dining room and hurried out of the house.

The long, familiar walk to school in the rain gave Harry time to think, not that he really wanted to. He was glad that he no longer went to school with Dudley or his friends, who had spent their time tormenting him, warning off any friends that Harry might have made, but if anything it was just as bad now. The children who had gone to the same school as Harry and Dudley were so used to him as the quiet, bullied boy who wore hand-me-down clothes and glasses held together with sticky tape that no-one really gave him a chance once out of the reach of Dudley's little gang. He had moved up to senior school and still no-one but his teachers spoke to him, and even they left him alone when they could help it. He never knew it but the members of staff who taught Harry would talk about him over their cups of tea and coffee in the staffroom.

"Such a sad boy, never sits near anyone else unless he can help it."

"I've never heard him say a single word, you know."

"He could be bright if only he'd try, I had to give him another detention for not handing in his homework, but nothing ever comes of it."

Harry sat through his classes quietly and drawing no attention to himself.

Harry walked slowly down the main staircase in silence, surrounded by his chattering classmates. He felt like if he walked any faster he might fall over, the strange attack during the night had left him feeling very tired. Ron and Hermione, walking next to him were engaged in an argument about the next Quidditch game of the season - Ravenclaw Vs Hufflepuff. He could hear Ron loudly claiming that Hufflepuff could easily win on the strength of their new keeper Melisande Besom. Harry suspected that Ron didn't just admire her for her Quidditch skills, as he has been dropping her name into conversations ever since she had visited the Weasley's over the summer as a guest of Ron's sister Ginny.

They entered the dining hall with its four parallel benches set out for breakfast, Harry sat down at the Gryffindor table next to Dean and Lavender who were giggling together, Hermione and Ron joined him, and Hermione leaned over to Dean and called "Morning 'Tiger'... good night last night, was it?"

Dean and Lavender went bright red, and smiled weakly at her. "Umm... Sorry Herm, were we making much noise?" asked Lavender "I keep forgetting that you're right next door..."

"Don't worry yourself about it, I've found a soundproofing charm" interrupted Parvati, who had a book open on the table in front of her. "I got this for my birthday, I hope my brother thinks he's being amusing." She showed them the cover of the book. It was called 'Charm Your Way to Passionate Nights' "You'll be able to sleep through any noise they make if we get it just right." She slid the book down the table for Hermione and Lavender to see. Soon the three girls were talking about other charms designed for young lovers while Dean grew even redder than when Hermione had called him 'Tiger'.

Ron was sitting the other side of Harry, next to his sister Ginny. Harry supposed he was trying to keep on Ginny's good side as he was hoping that she would invite Melisande back to the Burrow for the wild New Years Eve party Mr and Mrs Weasley were planning as part of the celebrations surrounding the birthday of their first grandchild, Owen.

Harry picked up a piece of toast from one of the plates in front of him and began to spread butter on it. He remembered making breakfast for the Dursleys, and trying to slip toast into his pockets as a snack on the way to school. He remembered the long walk past the factories on the outskirts of Little Whinging towards the huge red brick and concrete edifice of his school as clear as if it only happened yesterday.

Harry munched the toast quietly, still worrying about the events of the previous night. If studying at Hogwarts for almost seven years had taught him anything, it was not to ignore anything that caused him to wake up with a start in the middle of the night. He wondered if he should tell Ron and Hermione, but since there was nothing to tell apart from the fact that he woke up in the middle of the night with what felt like an asthma attack, he decided to wait until something more, well, interesting happened.

Students began to drift out of the dining hall now, towards their lectures. Harry's first lecture was Herbology and he picked up one more piece of toast and started to walk towards the greenhouses in the grounds feeling slightly uneasy as if something had been said that should have put him on his guard.

He was halfway through Transfiguration before he realised what it was.

That night Sirius had also awoken with a start, although he knew the reason for his panic. He heard the shouts and crashes which usually accompanied a fight echoing down the short tunnel and quickly transformed into his Animagus form in order to keep out of the way more easily. He padded forward and saw three figures surrounding a huddled shape on the floor. The three standing figures were kicking the shape, and Sirius understood that it was yet another gang fight, probably over drugs. There seemed to be one every night in this part of London.

Sirius, Harry's Godfather was still in hiding from the Wizarding world that still believed that he was responsible for the murder of Peter Pettigrew and a number of Muggles. Sirius was innocent of the crimes but the lack of any evidence and the fact that he had escaped from Azkaban meant that if he was caught then he would be sent back to prison immediately. To him, a life on the streets of Muggle London seemed slightly preferable to the continuing torture of living in Azkaban under the Dementors.

Nobody noticed the large black dog edging forward from out of the shadows of the railway bridge, especially not Gareth, Wayne and Jaz as they continued kicking the homeless man they had spotted earlier walking past Jaz's sister's house in what they thought was a 'very fuckin' cocky' way. After a long night in the Rat and Cask where the stereo they had stolen the previous week was converted into more liquid currency, Wayne has spotted the man again and the trio had decided to go after him to teach him a lesson. Jaz put the final touches to the beating by kicking their victim once more and spitting on the ground next to him and the three walked off in search of a curry, their voices loud and obscene carried off into the night air by the breeze.

Sirius watched as the man picked himself up and stumbled off out of the tunnel and down the street in the opposite direction to his attackers. The breeze changed and the huge black dog smelled something that he knew couldn't possibly be true, but by the time he got over the shock, the man had completely vanished.

During their afternoon History of Magic lesson, Harry took the opportunity to whisper quietly to Hermione and Ron as the rest of the class drowsed quietly while Professor Binns lectured them on 16^th Century Chinese Magicians. Harry wanted to tell them about his dream and ask their advice.

"I need to talk to you two, there's something I need to tell you both."

Hermione and Ron looked at him, Hermione especially looked worried. Ron, however said: "Well, don't tell us here, I've a feeling this calls for one of our 'Discussions' and even though I'm pretty sure Binns won't notice, I think we'd better be somewhere more private."

Harry nodded fervently and the three students turned their attention back to the lesson.

When the bell sounded at the end of the class, Harry, Ron and Hermione collected their books and made for the grounds. They made small talk as they walked across the grass past the lake and Hermione and Harry teased Ron about Melisande.

"So, is she coming to the New Year's party then, Ron?"

"Remember to take some Mistletoe!"

"Leave it out you two... Yes, Ginny invited her to the Burrow for the party, but I'm NOT going to try and kiss her... She's Ginny's best friend, it would be really weird, and Ginny probably wouldn't speak to me again..."

They reached a large tree by the edge of the wood and Hermione dropped her bag and sat down. She looked up at Harry. "So... what did you want to talk to us about then?"

Harry explained about the dream, and the revelation he had had in Transfiguration that morning, while Hermione and Ron listened quietly. When he had finished Hermione looked thoughtful.

"So let me get this straight, Harry. You're remembering things that never happened?"

Hermione was sitting, leaning against the tree. She shaded her eyes and looked up at Harry who was standing in front of her wringing his hands. Ron paced up and down next to him, obviously thinking of something useful to say.

"Yes... I know it sounds ridiculous but it's the only way I can think of to explain it. I know I never walked on my own to a red brick and concrete school while I was living with Dudley, because I went to the same school as Dudley and Uncle Vernon drove us both there, and it was an old stone one... and I'm still not making much sense, am I?"

"Not really, no." admitted Hermione.

"It's just that when I think of it, it does feel exactly like a memory of something I've really experienced. It feels just the same as my memories of the Quidditch matches I've played, and everything I know that happened."

"Well, what else can you remember?" asked Ron who had stopped pacing and was looking at Harry.

Harry shut his eyes and thought hard, part of him wanted to laugh, he was trying to remember memories that he knew he never had, the idea seemed absurd. He was quiet for a long time, trying to root out a memory that directly contradicted another. His thoughts at the breakfast table had felt so real, so natural that it had taken half a day to notice that there was anything wrong with them at all and every time he tried to convince himself that the memory wasn't real, the thought slipped away from him. Eventually he said "I'm sorry, but I can't think of anything... It's like... Oh I don't know, like every time I think of them directly they vanish..." Harry kicked the tree in frustration.

Ron moved forward and put his hands on Harry's shoulders. "This is just a thought, but have you considered that you might just be remembering a dream you had once? I've slept in the same dorm as you for six years now and I know how vivid your dreams can be." He felt Harry's shoulders droop under his hands, as if he was very tired. "You're probably right." he agreed. "Just a dream, I guess."