tick-tock | a drarry tale

XII.

The boy couldn't speak. He couldn't think. All he knew was that he had to hurry.

Miles, miles, miles, it seemed. The boy kept on rushing past the same objects. Glass globes. Rows and rows of them.

Where was he?

There were shouts and screams, bolts of red and green were whizzing past his head.

The boy stopped running and put his hands on his knees.

What are you doing? Go!

The boy winced, shook his head, and continued to run.

91.. 92..

Where was he?

Harry Potter shot up from his bed, drenched in sweat. His head was pounding, and for a few seconds, he didn't know where he was. He reached over to his bedside table, reaching blindly for his glasses. He touched one of the temples, tried to pull it back, but that just made the glasses to fall onto the floor.

The Gryffindor groaned inwardly and slammed his head back into his pillow. He heard Ron sigh from his bed, and watched as his silhouette reached down onto the floor. He then threw Harry's glasses at the boy, but due to Ron being able not to see, managed to hit him square in the face.

Harry screwed his eyes shut.

"Sorry, mate," Ron apologized.

"You're up," Harry muttered dismissively, sitting back up with his glasses in hand.

"Yeah.. you kinda woke me up," Ron said.

"Me too," Seamus mumbled from across the room.

"Then I'll wake Dean up too, then," Harry snapped, shoving his glasses onto his face. He reached over, pulled his lamp's string, and his half of the room lit up.

Dean shuffled and turned away from the light.

"What time is it?" Seamus mumbled again. Ron leaned over and read 3:12. Seamus groaned and fell back into his bed. "Harry, mate, you gotta stop having these.. nightmares. We're all sick of it."

Ron glanced over at Harry, who, just as he thought, was drenched in sweat. When Harry opened his eyes, they were a bright green. Ron gasped, and scooted back to his bed's headboard.

"What?" Harry snapped, eyeing him. His eyes were back to normal.

Ron shook his head.

"Your.. your eyes," Ron mumbled. Harry sighed and looked back down at his hands. They were clammy.

"What do you mean?" he asked in a bored tone.

"They.. they were green-"

"Ron-"

"Bright green." Harry took a deep breath.

Why was he so angry?

Harry gripped the hem of his blanket, threw it off his body, and stood up. Ron stood up too. Harry gritted his teeth, and a buzzing sensation vibrated through him.

"Mate, what's wrong-"

"Get away from me!" shouted Harry. Ron took a step back cautiously, and eyed Seamus as the boy across the room slowly gripped his wand. Ron shook his head. "Don't come near me! You filthy, no-good Weasley! You are a Weasley, I presume. With that hair, you'd be noticed from anywhere." Ron's mouth opened but nothing came out. Harry had his wand out now, aiming it at his best friend.

"Harry." Ron's voice cracked.

"Harry? Harry who?" Ron noticed his eyes flash green again, "Harry isn't here, Ronald." And with a bang, Ron was down. Harry turned on his heels and faced Seamus, who was facing Harry with his wand too out.