The whole house seemed to jerk awake at the same time. The sound of someone being tourtured echoed through the hallways.
Ron grabbed his best mates shoulders, shaking him and begging him to wake up.
Harry had been having horrendous nightmares consecutively, since three nights after the end of the third Task when Madam Pomfrey told him he couldn't take anymore dreamless sleep or he'd become addicted.
So, as Harry thrashed around in his bed, screaming for Cedric not to die, the occupants of the house looked worriedly on.
Finally, Harry shot up, his breathing laboured.
"Harry are you okay?" Mrs Weasley's concerned voice penetrated his conscious.
"Y-yeah, I'm fine," he answered, trying to reassure her.
No one believed his plight, but truly he did feel considerably better as Lily forced her way to his bedside and hugged him tightly.
...
Sitting in the living room, the Weasleys, Potters, Sirius and Remus waited for Harry to finish adding memories to the pensive.
"We are going to start at a memory from when I was about 10." Harry announced and sat down with the rest of the group to watch from the screen the pensive projected since there were so many people.
