As Harry made his way across the courtyard the wind began to pick up. It swept the leaves up against the iron fence and seemed to push the frail boy against it. He trudged through the deepening piles deep in thought. He tripped on an unseen object and softly cursed. “Dunderhead! Can’t do anything right can you?”

He began to snicker as he thought about how his head of house would probably murder him herself if they she knew that he was out here wandering without his wand.

Although the Dark Lord was gone, for almost seven months now, not all his followers had been picked up. In fact, there were quite a few of their children in the school that it was still considered idiotic to walk around by yourself when you were Harry Potter.

“I guess that I should probably head back. Hope my so-called friends don’t jump me again. Not to mention that it’s Snape’s shift tonight.” He wandered over to the side of the courtyard to enter the corridor. It was a bit chilly out and while he really didn’t care if Snape caught him; he just wasn’t in the mood to deal with or give him hell.

He headed toward the third door in the left corridor instead of the Great Hall’s door, the twins had told him of the latest shortcut that they had found. They claimed that it took you over the staircases and dumped you out near the corridor to the third floor.

As he stepped through into the corridor and shut the door he realized that there were no torches lit in this rarely used corridor he began to rant. “Bloody hell Harry! Sure was a grand night to have left behind ones wand but what does it really matter? It’s not like there is anyone left in my life that would miss me. If the wanker, Draco Malfoy, showed up I would be in for a mess.”

He’s still a bit pissed about his father, he thought to himself. His body began to tremor as he thought of three months ago, and the mistake he had made that had cost the life of one of his only real connections to his parents, Sirius. It had also been the night that he had defeated Voldemort, some people had even told him that it must have been karma but he knew the only reason he had been able to overthrow and kill him that night was because he had been overtaken by a feeling that he needed to protect the rest of his loved ones. No one else he loved would ever be killed by Voldemort again.

And while he had only known Sirius for almost two and a half years, he had been the one person in my life that he could truly count on. “My parents had left him to take care of me and I had managed to screw even that up.”

Harry looked up and realized that he had come to a dead end and came to the conclusion that he had ended up in the third floor corridor since he could see light streaming underneath the door.

Opening the door, he noticed that it was not the corridor. No, it was most definitely not the third floor corridor.

Gazing around in wonderment, he realized he had walked into someone’s personal study. But this was no ordinary study; no it was an extraordinary room. The ceilings cascaded 30 feet into the air, four ten-foot long enchanted windows filled the walls each of them showing a different view of seemingly different countries. Bookcases covered the rest of the wall space except for a circular space on the north wall. He couldn’t quite make out what was sitting in the centre of the circular opening but it looked suspiciously like a large pensieve.

Looking up in was just as spectacular because in the centre of the ceiling were magical lanterns that glowed brightly like the sun but not hurting his eyes. While this room was overwhelmingly intimidating it was strangely comforting as the same time as if it were a simple and plain room.

Harry walked along the south end of the room and curiously looked at some of the titles of the books. Not surprisingly, none of the titles were familiar but he recognized some of the authors’ names Merlin, Salazar Slytherin, Godric Gryffindor and strangely Nicolas Flamel. It seemed as if they were in genre order, ranging from Transfiguration to Divinity and Dark Arts to History of Merpeople. As he came to the West wall, it was all dedicated to Potions, Potions and more Potions. Unknown to most of Harry’s “friends” except Hermione and Neville, Harry was an exceptional brewer.

He approached the end of the bookcase and reached out to stroke the spine of one the books, “What the…!” Harry exclaimed as he touched the book spine and it crackled while sending a jolt through his body and made his heart race.

Throwing caution to the wind and curiosity overriding his common sense he grabbed the book of the shelf. “What is this?” Harry wondered as he held it. To his wonderment, it sent a much stronger jolt through his body and caused him to drop the book. He stooped to the ground and leaned down until his face was inches from the book. He had noticed small scrawled writing on the bottom of the book. As he struggled to read the words, his face paled noticeably and his arms began to shake. As he finished reading the statement Harry froze for a minute obviously deep in thought. Abruptly, he jumped up and ran over to the large, magnificent desk presiding in the heart of the room. He grabbed a quill and dashed back to the book.

“I wonder if this will work?” Harry wondered aloud as he gently pushed the quills end into the side of the book. He cautiously opened the tome to the first page where a name was indistinguishably printed under Property of. After it was entirely open, the tome began to emit a glow and wrapped itself around Harry.

“Aghhhhhhhh!!’ Harry screamed as the core of his being seemed to be scrutinized by a being even stronger than Albus Dumbledore. ‘Please LEAVE me ALONE! I am sorry! Please! Stop!” Harry begged to the “empty” and relentless being for the second time that night. After what seemed like hours to Harry while it was only 2 minutes, he felt the being evacuate his body and the glow distended back into the book.

He rolled to his side gasping and noticed that while it wasn’t as bright there was still a glow emulating from inside of the book. Although his instincts were screaming at him to leave the room and never return, he overrode them and grabbed the quill and once again used it to turn the page. He turned the cover and cringed as it flipped open.

Cracking one eye open he gazed down to the page and gasped. Where there was once a strange unreadable name instead read his own signature: Harry James Potter.

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In a dark room in the dungeons lay a man that was struggling in his sleep. It was obvious to anyone had they been watching that he in the throngs of a terrible nightmare. It seemed like the man, while obviously strong and fit, was broken.

Gradually, the man known by many names and none of them very kind awoke as his alarm began to ring slowly. “Thank heavens, Severus thought to himself, for the night patrol.” He shuddered thinking about the nightmare that had previously had grasped onto his soul. It wasn’t a pleasant one in any means and it visited often enough.

Rolling out of bed, he grabbed his heavy robes, wand and shoes. As he headed out into the corridor of the dungeons he started his rounds as he usually did and started with his inspection of the halls of his snakes. Finding nothing out of the ordinary, Snape headed up to the main hall towards the grand staircases and after inspection went on his final walk through the entrance hall and through the west courtyard. Finding nothing out of the ordinary, he walked towards the right door that led into a corridor leading back to the entrance hall. As he turned he caught a glimpse of something dark cross his peripheral vision. “Must have been a crow, I thought Filch had gotten rid of them.” Severus thought to himself trying to convince himself. He was certain it wasn’t a crow but to tell the truth he wasn’t in a mood to even discipline a child the dream had wiped out all of his energy. Heading back to the dungeons, all he could think about was his bed and the vial of dreamless sleep that seemed to be calling his name.

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