Shifted: Book Two

Chapter Twenty Six - A Raging Nightmare

Hazel was far from being awake, but she felt her body sweat and heat up intensely. She jolted in bed, but her mind was fixated in this nightmare of hers.

It was as though she was a snake; she slithered across the ebony-bricked tiles, hissing and spitting. Her perspective then trailed along the shiny surface and identified a distinctive pair of smart, yet very worn-out, leather shoes that belonged to a rather tall man. The man was stood in a room lit up with all different hues of blue, and he was inspecting the shelves in front of him. Without control, she felt the urgency to attack the man, and so she did.

Though, at first, she didn't recognise the man she was, unwillingly, attacking, it soon became clear to her who the victim was. The distinctive voice, the broad figure, the old clothes and ginger hair, it couldn't have been anyone else but Arthur Weasley. She had no control; she bit and bit and bit into the poor mans skin, tormenting him and putting him in agony. His wounds seeped with fresh blood, and his harrowing cries rung her ears. It was all too much for Hazel, and as she watched Arthur drop to the ground, losing any movement he had left in his muscles, Hazel escaped that nightmare in a hot sweat.

She shot straight out of bed, clutching her chest and trying to regain her breath back. Her palms were hot and her eyes watered - the nightmare felt so real, as though she really was attacking Arthur, but it was all a dream, right?

A quiet knock banged on her dormitory door. She steadily lifted her trembling body out of bed and opened the door, to be greeted by Harry who, seemed to have a nightmare too.

"Harry, what happened?", Hazel whispered, holding her arms in attempts to stop them from shaking.

"I heard you as I walked past your room", Harry said, out of breath and wiping the sweat off his forehead.

"Sorry, I just had a bad nightmare, is all", Hazel responded, letting go of her arms, her body was shaking and her heart was palpitating so rapidly, it was no use.

Harry's eyes widened.

"So did I", Harry whispered back, looking at Hazel with worrying eyes.

The two of them stood, trembling in sweat and concern.

"We had the same dream, didn't we?", Hazel asked, her vision going blurry again from the lack of hydration and the overwhelming sensation of her heart race increasing drastically.

"I don't think it was a dream, Hazel", Harry informed regretfully, as he took Hazel's hand and guided her to McGonagall's office, waking up Ron to let him know what the two just witnessed.

Hazel could hardly walk, and neither could Harry. Using all their strength, they pulled each other along and asked McGonagall for help, in which she did just that. She asked Ron to help her take Hazel and Harry to Dumbledore's office and swiftly inform Ginny, Fred and George to come down too.

They made it to Dumbledore's office and, immediately, seated the two of them to regain their energy. McGonagall handed Hazel a small glass of water, then she passed it to Harry.

Dumbledore looked at the two in puzzlement for a moment or two before finally speaking.

"So, you two shared the exact same dream?", he asked unsurely.

"Yes, professor", Hazel nodded, her body continuing to tremble.

"Did you see each other? In your dream did you see each other?", he asked again, pacing up and down slowly.

"No, we didn't each other. Only Arthur", Harry replied, his fists shook with anger and anxiety.

"Why did we share the same dream? I don't understand..." Hazel said, taking deep breaths cautiously.

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

"Neither. It was like I... will you please just tell us what's happening-", Harry said, his voice quaking out of breath, before being interrupted by Dumbledore.

Dumbledore turned to the painting on his wall, instructing the man inside to warn the Order.

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

"Sir-", Harry intervened, his body language becoming more aggressive and irritated as he stood out of his seat, facing Dumbledore.

"Harry, sit down-", Hazel suggested softly, stroking his hand before Harry pulling away, more agitated than ever.

"Phineas!", Dumbledore spoke, approaching another painting on the other side.

"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", he instructed before dismissing the painted man.

Everard returned to his painting, bringing Dumbledore news.

"They've got him, Albus. It was close, but they think he'll make it. What's more, the Dark Lord failed to acquire it".

"Harry, please calm down", Hazel spoke gently, standing out of her seat, using her fragile body, and pressing her arm against Harry's hot skin.

He continued to shake and quiver with anger and impatience, and the sweat stuck to his skin like a moth to a burning candle, shimmering and reflecting against the bright, waving flames of the amber fire that sat beside him. He pulled Hazel away, and followed Dumbledore's footsteps as he avoided to look Harry in the eyes at a moment when he needed reassurance the most.

"Oh, thank goodness. Next we need to-" Dumbledore said before being interrupted by Harry's rage.

"Look at me!", Harry roared, his face and body trembling with pure anguish and worry.

"What's happening?", he asked desperately.

Suddenly, Snape appeared into the room from behind them.

"You wished to see me, headmaster?", Snape spoke calmly.

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

"Professor, please. What does this mean?", Hazel asked, standing beside Harry and comforting him, as she brushed her arm against his.

Dumbledore turned his attention to the two children, stood shaking with anxiety, before him. He clasped his hands and raised his brows to Snape. Snape nodded his head, and guided Hazel and Harry downstairs and into his office.