Agony. White hot agony that seemed to burn every inch of him, itching to get him to rip his own skin off, but he couldn't move, he couldn't even scream, but he could vaguely hear people laughing at his torment and quiet whimpers from beside him. Harry woke up with a start, gasping for air, he had been having those dreams a lot recently, and they always made him tremble as though the pain still lingered, making him feel like there was something wrong with his body in a way he couldn't exactly describe. Looking in the mirror he saw the same boy he had always been, but there was something wrong, something off. Harry wasn't sure how much more of the Dursleys he could take, and these dreams weren't helping matters. He wasn't even 13 yet, but he was already counting down the days until he went back to Hogwarts. Book 3 in the Mute series.