Chapter Thirteen: Dreams And Nightmares

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December 1995 - Hogwarts

Harry was really a very good teacher. He pointed out things I never would have noticed when using defensive spells. When we learned expelliarmus, he told Neville he was flourishing his wand too much. He also voluntarily practices stupefying on him. And we all enjoyed watching Hermione use stupefy on Ron.

Meanwhile, Umbridge decreed that all students must submit to questioning as she was growing more and more suspicious. The twins and I noticed that Filch was sitting for hours outside where the door appeared. Everyone knew he worshipped Umbridge, so we left him a pink box of fever fudge, courtesy of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes.

Eventually, Umbridge started the Inquisitorial Squad. Or as we call them in the muggle world, the hall monitors club. Or in social pyramid terms, everyone's least favorite people. Draco, Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy were quick to sign up. And after a while, Neville finally nailed that expelliarmus. On the last day of classes before the break, Harry gathered us all around.

"So that's it for this lesson," he said. "Now we're not gonna be meeting again until after the holidays." This was followed by audible disappointment from everyone. "So just keep practicing on your own as best as you can. And, w-well done, everyone. Great, great work."

"Professor," I said to Harry as we walked out of the room of requirement together. Ron snickered.

"Yeah, professor," Ron said to Harry, mocking me.

"Oh shut up, Ron," Hermione said. "I think Harry's been more of a teacher than most real teachers in this school these past few weeks."

"Hermione, that's not what I- never mind," I said. Later that night, Harry and I were in my room watching some TV and soaking in each other's company.

"Grace," he said. "Was Cedric a better boyfriend than I am?" I stopped to look at him.

"Harry, don't let Draco get to you," I told him.

"Was he, though?" Was he? They weren't really comparable.

"Cedric was a good boyfriend," I said. "I really don't think I can compare you. You guys are just different people. Both great, both flawed. But I will say this, I broke up with Cedric. We fought way too often over things that didn't even matter, really. And he had way more flaws than people realized. It's not that you're a better boyfriend, it's that you're better for me. But you are a much better kisser for that matter." It was a lie. Cedric was a better kisser. But Harry needed cheering up, so I kissed him slowly as I said it. I was confused when he pulled away, but he only pulled away for a second to say the words everyone wanted to hear.

"I love you, Grace," he said.

"I love you, Harry."

*

At around midnight, I sensed wrestling from the other side of the bed. But it wasn't until Harry shot out of bed like a rocket did I wake up.

"Harry," I said. He was drenched in sweat and shaking. "What? What's wrong?"

"I had a dream," he managed to say.

"A dream? A dream about what?"

"I-I...I need to see Dumbledore," he said. He was totally out of it.

"Ok," I said slowly as I processed what was happening. "Ok, let's go then." I quickly hopped out of bed and threw on my robe as I handed him his. If I wasn't helping him, he wouldn't have walked steadily. I rushed to McGonagall, who only came out after relentless knocking.

"What? What is it? Potter? Miss Snape? What's going on?"

"Harry had a-"

"It's Mr. Weasley," Harry said. "He's in trouble. I need to see Dumbledore." McGonagall could tell the severity of the situation. She turned to a portrait on the wall.

"Celesta," she said. "Will you please wake the Weasleys and send them to Dumbledore's office?"

"Certainly, ma'am," the portrait said as she disappeared. McGonagall grabbed Harry's other arm as we all walked down to Dumbledore's office. When Dumbledore finally came in, he wouldn't even look at Harry. He had his back turned while he questioned him.

"In the dream were you standing next to the victim or looking down at the scene?"

"N-neither," Harry stuttered. "I-I...it was like I...Professor, will you please just tell me what's happening?"

"Everard, Arthur's on guard duty tonight," Dumbledore said, addressing a painting. "Make sure he's found by the right people."

"Sir," Harry said.

"Phineas," Dumbledore said. "You must go to your portrait at Grimmauld Place. Tell them that Arthur Weasley is gravely injured. And his children will be arriving there soon by Portkey."

"They've got him now, Albus," one portrait said. "It was close but they think he'll make it. Once more the dark lord has failed to acquire it."

"Oh, thank goodness. Next, we need to-"

"Look at me!" Harry screamed, drawing the eyes of everyone in the room, including Dumbledore. "What's happening to me?" After Dumbledore and Harry exchanged a few glances, my dad walked in the door.

"You wished to see me, headmaster?"

"Oh, Severus. I'm afraid we can't wait," Dumbledore said. "Not even till the morning. Otherwise, we'll all be vulnerable."

"Very well," my dad said. "Come with me, Potter." My dad tried to drag Harry away, and Harry looked at me like he wanted me to come with him. So I tried to follow. "Not now, Grace," my dad said. "This is a matter of importance."

"I want Grace with me," Harry said. My dad looked back and forth at the two of us.

"Absolutely not," he said stiffly.

"But Dad-"

"I SAID NO!" he screamed. I was taken aback. Why is it that he was suddenly so comfortable saying no to me? Why did my being close to Harry suddenly make him so closed off? "I assure you, I'll return him in one piece."

I watched him drag Harry away. I knew Harry would be safe, but I didn't want him to be scared. And I knew his relationship with my father was not ideal. 

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