Last time:

Derrik’s thoughts as he watched the younglings were to the fact that Voldemort had better watch out, as his greatest enemy was steadily growing stronger, and would be ready the next time they met. At least he hoped so, with all his might.

Harry had always been a bright student, though he very rarely showed it. After ten years under the Dursley’s heavy hand, particularly Vernon who couldn’t stand the thought that the ‘freak’ was smarter than his own little boy, Harry had long since learned to try to fail. And for a mind as brilliant as his, that was a frustrating thought. He had wondered sometimes if his mind had made it through his formative years. As he had gotten good grades for the past four years, however, he somehow suspected that it was fine.

Thus, once Harry was no longer under the strain of trying to hide his brilliant mind, the boy flourished. He began to study more, and goof off less (a fact that Ron despaired of). His mind drank in the knowledge he was given like a thirsty person drinks water. However, even with his extended studying, he still found time to practice both Quidditch and his fencing skills, as well as his hunting on weekends with Draco.

Despite rushing around, seeming as if he should break under the strain, the once procrastinator found he enjoyed getting his work done on time; such was his love for learning what he had been denied by both the Dursley’s and his own fear, that his grades improved rapidly. The first tests showed a stark difference between the first four years, and now; though he didn’t realize it, most of his Professors were kicking themselves that they hadn’t seen the obvious. The truth was hard to swallow: they had neglected to notice the fact that there was something innately wrong for a child of two brilliant people should make it through four years with mediocre marks.

And so a routine formed for Harry, Draco, Hermione, the Quidditch Teams, and the rest of the Fifth Year (including Ron). In spite of a few mishaps, like a misadventure involving a man-eating vine plant, magical porcupines, and polecats, things went normally for all involved. The only truly big exception was the worsening of Harry’s nightmares.

He had always found the visions disturbing, always wondering how supposedly superior purebloods could soil themselves with the blood of innocents; he found the nightmares more disturbing. It was an hour before dawn on Halloween that the nightmares came to a culmination of horror and denial.

~Harry watched with a feeling of dread growing in his midsection as a younger version of himself, not yet fourteen, watered and weeded the garden in the back yard. His younger self realized that he was out of something, such as water for the can. He had never been allowed to use the hose itself when only watering the garden, as there was too much of a risk that the high pressure would destroy the precious flowers.

Thirteen-year Harry sighed, and got up before grabbing the watering can. He then headed for the shed, which was a good few meters from the house. For a reason he could never fathom, the shed had a working sink with hot and cold water. Of course, this made the already small space even smaller, and the shed looked more like a barn work shed or a garage. If one didn’t know the paths between the piles of fertilizer, seeds and various objects, one could easily get lost in the shed.

The older Harry followed a wary pace behind his younger self, still unsure of what was going to happen. He didn’t remember this scene, though he had little doubt that it was one of his memories. The younger Harry was working at filling the can with water, grunting slightly as he struggled to turn the rusty faucet. Vernon had never fixed it, though it would have been in his best interest to do so. Harry always suspected that it had been pure spite on the oldest Dursley’s part.

It was as the just teenager started lifting the heavy watering can out of the sink that a sound came to both Harry’s ears. A sound he knew all too well: that of hopeless pleading. It was not coming from his throat, however, but from one he never thought would utter the words every abused child does ‘Please don’t, please stop’.

The younger Harry put the watering can back in the sink, and snuck outside and behind the shed. In the small space between the shed and the fence was Dudley being pressed against the shed wall by Vernon. With disgusted horror, both Harry’s saw that the younger Dursley was crying softly as large meaty hands groped in places inappropriate for any child.

Both Harrys bit back bile, though for the elder Harry it was for both the horror in front of him, and the knowledge that he had failed Dudley almost utterly. It was then that Harry (13) charged forward, doing something no one expected of him. He punched Vernon in the face. The man, distracted by his actions towards his own son, didn’t notice the unwanted burden until the fist had already landed.

Before Vernon could charge at Harry and punish him, the boy offered a deal to the man. It was one Harry was disgusted to do, but willingly offered if it meant his cousin never having to suffer abuse at the man’s hands. The offer was that Vernon would leave Dudley alone, and instead would have Harry. Vernon agreed with maliciousness, but didn’t expect what came next. Harry (13) had gathered up his magic, and eliminated the memory of the scene that had just happened, as well as any scene similar to it that had happened before. Afterwards the younger Harry stumbled back to his room, exhausted, to await Vernon as well as to block from his own mind the horror of what he had just witnessed.~

Harry awoke choking on his blanket, his heart racing. Pulling the blanket out of his mouth, he silently rushed to the bathroom to sick up. He felt dirty again, like he had felt after Professor Snape had just rescued him. Instead of taking the longed for shower, however, he pulled out a journal he had kept since he joined Hogwarts. He easily found the passage that confirmed his nightmare, and he strengthened his shields, grateful that he had prevented any thought of what had occurred from escaping to Draco. He would hide this until he could better deal with it.

***

Harry was groggy throughout the day and irritable even to his friends. He wasn’t quite sure why he was pushing them away, but it came as naturally as it ever had. The only two who weren’t fooled were Draco, and Luna. His Bondmate he could expect, but the girl came as a surprise. His feelings for the younger girl had grown stronger, much to the amusement of Draco. Despite his embarrassment over the teasing the other boy had given him, he was grateful for the support that she showed him.

Ron and Hermione tried to talk to him, or otherwise get him to open up a little, but even patient Hermione finally got irritated at the harsh rebuffing. By the time classes were over, neither of his friends were talking to him for the day, which was exactly what Harry wanted. So why did he feel so miserable about it?

Instead of going to the Halloween feast, which always got under his skin anyways, he went to the Come and Go room, which Dobby had showed him with great enthusiasm after being asked where two students could study in private. In that room he and Draco, who had followed him, began to go through the steps of the most recent ‘kata’ they had been shown in fencing. It wasn’t a kata like in martial arts, but it was still a series of moves strung together that formed a sort of dance. Should anyone look in on them, they would see the two practicing the same beautiful if awkward movements on opposite sides of the room.

It was as they faced each other to practice their defensive and striking moves that the worse happened.

~Harry’s mind was drawn into Nagini, who had been sent down the hall he’d been dreaming about. The boy could somehow sense that she had gone far too early, that her master was becoming desperate. Unable to pull away from the vision, he was dragged along as the snake made its way towards the door that always avoided him in his dreams. He felt the snake start as someone leapt to their feet dangerously close to the serpent. As she was rearing back to strike, however, something sharp came whistling down. The serpent barely noticed a stinging feeling at the back of her neck. She did, however, notice when her strike failed because her head was no longer attached to her body. As she slipped into the cold embrace of death, Harry was pulled with her, though he struggled with all his might.~

As Harry fell, his mind being drawn ever closer to death, Draco cried out in horror. He grabbed his Bondmate, keeping him from hitting the floor hard. He then reached for the presence that he had grown so used to in only a few months. It was a struggle, but he managed to hold on to his friend, refusing to allow him to follow Nagini in death. He then called Dobby, asking the elf after it had popped to him to bring Professor Snape quickly, that it was a most dire situation. For once Dobby listened to the Malfoy heir who had made his life a nightmare while he lived with them. Though he disliked Draco, Dobby knew that Harry was more important, and it was the loyalty the elf held for the boy who had freed him that made the little house elf quicker than normal, popping directly to Professor Snape without hesitation.