The Road to Recovery (Drarry)

~*~Chapter Fifteen~*~

It was only the second back after Christmas holiday and Harry was already behind on schoolwork.  He felt overwhelmed.  There were so many classes he had to keep up with and copy Hermione's notes for, so many essays to write, and so many things to remember.  Above everything, Ron was still not talking to him nor to Hermione, which only succeeded in making Hermione upset (anger she usually took out on Harry).  And as if that wasn't enough to make Harry feel like he wanted to explode, Dean and Seamus had taken to believing it was there duty to determine who the lucky Slytherin was that Harry had been seeing.  They would sneak up on Harry and ask him questions, trying to get him to answer them in his surprise.  If that wouldn't work, they would "sneakily" slip questions into conversations.  Everything seemed to be piling up on top of him.

Hermione had gone off in an attempt to reason with Ron (for the umpteenth time) leaving Harry alone in the Gryffindor common room.  He was sitting in a cushioned red chair -similar to those in Dr. Saturn's office, he noted- staring at the fireplace.  He thought he saw Sirius's face at one point, and stood up with a start, kneeling down in front of the fire, his godfather's name at the tip of his tongue.  It was with a pang that he realized how stupid he was for even hoping.  Sitting back down and staring blankly at the fire, he was so lost in thought, he hadn't realized that he was drifting off to sleep.

The scariest and most dangerous aspect of dreams and nightmares is the reality of them.  The human brain makes us believe that the image appearing in our brain when asleep are real.  When the dream s a pleasant one, this is a harmless thing.  When it is a nightmare, however, the scariest.  Unfortunately for Harry, he hadn't had a pleasant dream since the war.  Harry's nightmares were never the same, but followed the same formula.  The dreams were distorted combinations of flashbacks, fears, and fantasy.

He was running down what he knew to be the Hogwarts corridors, but they didn't look they should have.  The castle had been infiltrated by Death Eaters.  Dead bodies where everywhere, some he had never seen before, others he recognized all too well.  Harry was the last student alive and they were after him.  There was only thought on his subconscious mind: he had to hide.  If he was found he would be killed.  So he ran.  Every door was locked.  Where the entrances to the castle should have been, there were only walls.  He could hear them gaining on him.  They were going to kill him.  He kept running.  Running.  There was no where to go.  There was no escaping.  He looked around.  The walls were closing in on him, moving inward towards him.  The ceiling was rushing down above him.  The floor was moving upwards beneath him.  He had to escape.  Escape.  There was no escape.  He screamed for someone to help him.  There was no help.  There was only death.  Everyone was dead, and soon he would be too.  The castle crushed him.  There was only darkness.  In the darkness Harry could see a face.  Voldemort.  Then, they were face to face.  Harry could see the pupils in his red eyes dilate.  Harry tried to scream.  His lips wouldn't part.  He couldn't make a noise.  He couldn't move.  He could only observe.  There was silence.  Then, there was only a blinding flash of bright green light and the echo of Voldemort's icy voice.

"Avada Kedavra."

Harry's eyes shot open and he inhaled sharply.  He didn't scream or cry out, or even shake.  All he did was stare at the wall opposite him, trying to forget.  Hermione was sitting alone on the love-seat next to him, nose in a book.  When she heard Harry stir, she looked over at him with a look of combined pity and understanding.

"Would you like to talk about it?" She offered

"No, I wouldn't," Harry replied with a tone of finality.  Changing the subject, he asked, "How did it go with Ron?"

"He's still upset, but seems to be calming down.  You know how he can get," She signed.  "It will die down, he just needs time."  She seemed to Harry to be talking more to herself than to him.  He nodded in response.