The Dream Trilogy Book One: To Dwell On Dreams (A Harry Potter FanFiction)

Chapter One

Chapter Image by the incredible Visenya at The Dark Arts

Chapter Song: Parallel Lives by Roisin Murphy

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Chapter One

Alex lent his cheek against the cool marble pillar, and let his eyes flutter half closed. He wasn't exactly tired - he didn't sleep like he used to - but his brain was all clogged up and needed to stare into the middle distance for a moment or two and think of fluffy things. Several brown folders held shut by elastic bands rested precariously in his fingers, threatening to spill their contents onto the shiny marble floor. One of them was quivering, and he was pretty sure the other was smoking. 

Just one more minute, he thought, angling his shoulder so his upper torso was also pressed against the pillar. He let out a noise that resembled a purr. 

The clatter of the cleaner's bucket being dragged along the corridor behind him snapped him back to his senses, and he jumped to attention, wiping something that was definitely not drool from his mouth. He nodded at the creature with the mop, who saluted back and carried on singing along to the song playing through the large headphones perched on his lumpy head. If Alex had to guess he'd say the caretaker was some form of troll, but he generally felt it rude to ask someone what their species was, so he'd spent the last three years mentally referring to him as the cleaner, or guy-who-likes-Kiss-and-Janis-Joplin. 

The area Alex was waiting in, had actually spent the last millennia worth of evenings waiting in, was a wide marbled entranceway filled with pillars like the one he'd just been dozing on, and numerous wooden doors scattered along the walls. He always waited outside the same one, though its occupant had changed several times over the centuries. This one had chosen to decorate the outside of her door with sheets of an unknown child's finger painting, a periodic table and a flier from a kebab shop. 

The entrance hall resembled a more classical era, somewhere Aristotle would have enjoyed a good old stamp about, but as was per usual Alex didn't really look like he belonged there. He wore floppy navy pirate boots whose soles had been replaced many times over, and tucked into them were some stonewashed Levi's originals, ripped at the knees. His t-shirt was pretty faded but the words 'Glastonbury 1970' could still just about be made out amongst the design, and over that was a well fitted tailcoat, rolled up at the elbows and lined with fabric he was very proud to have won off Genghis Khan in a game of snap. Everything about him looked to be well-worn and well-loved, except for his hair which clearly stated he paid an extortionate amount for it to appear like he'd just fallen out of bed, and he didn't care who knew it. 

He knew the report that evening wasn't so different from the ones he gave almost every day, but he still felt slightly queasy at the news he had to deliver. He hoisted up the top file, flicked quickly to the right sheet of paper and ran his finger down the list of facts he hastily scrawled. True, situations like this didn't generally pop up all that often, but they nearly always sorted themselves out fast enough. It was just the particular subject of the anomaly that had caught his attention. 

The electronic display on the door chirped and Alex looked up to see it now read 'Enter!' in a cheery neon green. He snapped the file shut again, pinged the rubber band back around it and strode over the door. He didn't bother knocking and turned open the handle with a flourish. 

"Evening Jia!" he cried to the middle-aged Chinese woman hunched over the desk before him. Her hair was stuck out at all angles, escaping from the bun she had originally captured it in earlier that day, and there was ink smudged across several parts of her face. Coffee mugs littered the desk, along with stack upon stack of paper, a laptop, and an abacus. Not one of the five clocks in the room was at the correct time, but Alex knew for a fact Jia could tell him exactly how early or late they all were to the minute.