Breaking Free (Book 3 of the Lost Potter Series)

Memory Day 3/Rough Waters

Harry woke up on the 31st of July to Ron's usual vocal awakening.

"Oi, wake up."

Really, his best friend had quite the way with words, Harry couldn't help but think.

Harry's eyes snapped open in an instant, his scar prickling after the haunting nightmare he'd been woken from. Mountains, mist, a little town in the light of dawn. . .

"You were muttering in your sleep. Something about Gregorovitch?" Ron supplied from where he sat on the edge of his bed. Without even looking over, Harry knew Draco must already be awake and out of the room, considering how freely Ron talked (and how his words didn't contain any insults towards the blond).

"Who's Gregorovitch?" Harry asked rather smartly as he rubbed his forehead, entire world out of focus without his glasses to correct it.

"I dunno, do I? You were the one saying it." Ron responded just as helpful as always.

"I think Voldemort's looking for him." Harry couldn't quite recall a face, but the urgent need to find something hadn't quite cleared his system.

"Poor bloke." Came Ron's short reply.

Harry sat up straight, still rubbing his scar as if that would make the horrible sensation subside sooner, "I think he's abroad."

"Who, Gregorovitch?"

"No, Voldemort. It didn't look anything like Britain." The mountains were much too high, the style of the roads and buildings entirely foreign to him.

"You reckon you were seeing into his mind again?" Ron asked again, sounding much more worried than Harry was used to.

"Do me a favor and don't tell Hermione. Although how she expects me to stop seeing stuff in my sleep. . ." The name was tormenting him with its familiarity but he couldn't quite place it. Was it a Quidditch name? That seemed almost right, but why would Voldemort need anything to do with Quidditch?

"Don't strain yourself there, mate," Ron joked at him, "And Happy Birthday."

Harry was taken aback, "Wow —that's right, I'm seventeen! I almost forgot!"

In his rush to grab his wand and try out magic without his trace, and in Ron's amusement as Harry's glasses flew up and poked him in the eye, neither of them noticed the blond re-entering the room and watching quietly from the doorway.

"Graceful as always, Potter," Came his more-playful-than-tormenting tone, scaring them both slightly (especially Harry, who couldn't see the doorframe from his camp bed).

"Sod off, Malfoy," Came Ron's jovial reply, "Can't you go listen in someone else?"

Draco rolled his eyes, "Sorry for disrupting your ultra-secret birthday wishes." He scoffed at them, turning away and retreating back into the house.

Ron watched him go and waited until he was out of sight before speaking again, "Creepy git, just sulking around like he owns the place." He shuddered for dramatic effect before pulling out a wrapped parcel and handing it over to Harry, "Here's your present. Open it up here, it's not for my mother's eyes."

Harry's eyebrows skyrocketed as he did as he was told, tearing open the rectangular parcel, "A book? Bit of departure from tradition, isn't it?"