As soon as he looked up from the letter he heard his own name swing across the garden.
His mum was there looking annoyed, behind him was a familiar someone.
"Someone is here to see you", she called. He steadily rose, trembling. There was Remus, in full muggle attire. Jeans, jumper, and trainers, and looking more tired than ever.
"What's up, what's up?", Harry heard himself say.
"I'm sorry" said Remus "We have to go, your things are packed." In fact, behind him was his trunk hovering an inch above the ground.
"Er... I guess this is goodbye?" He looked at his mother and felt mournfully guilty. He could not even spend a normal Easter with his parents. He gave a warm hug and Remus pulled a thimble from his pocket.
"What's that?" said Harry and his mother in unison.
"Portkey" muttered Remus and tapped it. Harry watched, mouth slightly ajar but Remus jerked his hand onto the tiny metal object just in time.
A jerk of the navel, the loss of his breakfast, and two seconds later, he found his feet land on something long and soft, followed by a long hiss. He blinked, he was in an alleyway with a cobblestone floor and a very aggravated cat. Remus continued his tense manner with a brisk pace, floating trunk and bewildered Harry in tow.
In short, Harry was pissed. He thought that by now he could get one word out of the man. Honestly, he believed Remus deserved a royal bitch slap. As if the werewolf read his mind he said, "Please don't be angry. This is sudden, yeah, but you'll understand later...maybe.".
Harry bit his lip and followed mutely, arms crossed. He occupied his mind by taking in the scenery. It was Hogsmeade village. The village was quieter than usual; it was Sunday morning but Harry was quite impressed. The shops appeared fascinating, especially Honeydukes and Hogwarts' landscape appeared even more breathtaking from afar. The rolling green hills seem to sparkle with morning dew and the lake appeared to be a diamond in a field of emeralds.
Unexpectedly, Remus was extraordinarily quick; Harry had to jog to keep up. Within ten minutes they were between the winged boars . Remus seemed to relax but Harry chose to refrain from the questions bugging his mind. He decided to count the different suits of armor along the way to wherever they were going. He found himself on thirty seven when they stopped in front of a familiar stone gargoyle.
Remus stated clearly to the statue, "Cotton Candy."
Harry almost said, "Yes please" Before he realized that the statue was revolving.
Remus turned to the boy for the first time and said "Dumbledore's Office, pretty cool huh?"
Harry nodded dumbly. A golden staircase revolved upwards like an escalator and led to a large oak door. Remus knocked and the door swung open. None other than the gray headmaster was waiting behind the desk; his face was blank.
"Sit down Harry, have some tea." Harry slowly obeyed, taking in his surroundings. The walls were lined with portraits of past headmasters and headmistresses. The shelves had different shiny instruments that Harry had a strange temptation to smash. Behind Dumbledore was a jeweled dagger.
He now realized that there was indeed an old pot in front of him, shaped from porcelain into a sphinx. It poured it self into a similar looking cup.
"Now Harry... you told Remus about this... dream." He nodded slowly, sipping the warm liquid. "Now...would you care to repeat it to the best of your ability?" Harry did and Dumbledore's forehead creased.
"This may sound bizarre...well everything these days sound bizarre." remarked Remus. He continued," We think your dream may have actually happened."
Harry remained still as a church and mentally rolled his eyes. 'By the way these people were going on, it sounded as if I was turning into a kangaroo', he thought.
He drained the sphinx and cleared his throat. "So, I'm psychic then, yeah?" he said happily.
"I wish that were the case.", said Dumbledore with an unhappy laugh. "Basically, you can see into someone's mind."
Harry felt like grinning, but a tremble from within held him back. All sci-fi programs and cartoons had glorified the ability to see the invisible...but...why was this so different? Then it hit him.
"And they can see mine." Remus smiled nervously and reclined in the armchair beside Harry.
"Yes, yes, excellent observation, ten points to Gryffindor."he said gravely, "But who, who would Pettigrew be frequenting, who would be torturing servants...who would you dream about in such a manner that you feel the emotions of a stranger?"
Harry bit his lip, frankly his professor was freaking him out. The answer loomed in the back of his mind but he felt it to be preposterous. However he heard himself say it.
"Yep... another ten points for Gryffindor." Remus stood up and crossed the office to the window.
"Shit, Voldemort?" thought Harry. He felt stupid, of course. Who else? Who else would despise him, and stalk him to the point of trespassing the borders of the mind. But...wait a jiffy...wasn't he dead?
"Isn't he dead?" exclaimed the boy, sounded a little more panicked than he expected.
"That's the crazy part isn't it?" said Remus. "We've been expecting Pettigrew to be lurking around with old death eaters the past few months but not even I expected that he could hook up with Voldemort."
The demeanor of the room seemed way too calm to Harry. The most feared wizard in history may be alive and the wizards had barely moved a muscle. Harry would have expected the grounds to be loaded with an army as far as the eye could sea, at least.
"Shouldn't we be doing something!" Harry almost felt like screaming.
"Calm down, calm down.", said Dumbledore. He looked older than ever. "The question is...why isn't he doing anything?" Harry ground his nails into the arms of the chair. "If I may dare to assume...I believe Lord Voldemort is currently in a host life form and he can barely be considered alive. Apparently, he is waiting for something, but he has been waiting for the last ten years. That is not why we are here today. In short...we can use this weakness to for the greater good."
Harry was silent.
Remus tried. "We can find Pettigrew."
Harry jerked up. He was in bed after a long nap but he was woken by a harsh knock. He threw on a shirt and jeans and clumsily stumbled towards the door. The person in the threshold was not the one he would have chose for the moment.
"Wake up Mr. Potter, Occlumency training starts today." sneered the oily Professor.
Harry gulped but there was no time for contemplation. Snape made an about face and was off, Harry hurried behind at a jog; the scene was eerily akin to his trot with Remus.
The long walk was quiet as a rock, well, a rock with footsteps emitting from it. After Ten minutes Harry realized that Snape had been sending peculiar looks towards him...they were almost...curious?
He finally mustered the courage to say, "What? What's wrong?"
Snape glared but said, "What are you wearing."
Harry looked himself over. It was nothing special, jeans trainers, and an Oasis t-shirt his cousin had given him as an Easter present. He suddenly wondered if Snape had a clue about muggle clothes. Instead of investigating, Harry just shrugged and said, "Clothes."
They were in the potion master's dungeon office in almost no time. Snape wasted no time with pleasantries and pulled out his wand.
"Prepare to defend your mind as if it were your life."
Harry blinked but he soon felt as if an airplane had hit him in the stomach.
He was running as fast as he could. There was a blur of a bus in the rainy distance. He stopped and sat down on the pavement in anger. It was his first chance to start in a football match...and he'd slept late.
A black shaggy dog turned into a gaunt faced man.
He was fighting with Malfoy in the owlry.
It was the dead of night and he was propping a bucket above Snapes' doorway while friends squirmed nervously below.
Suddenly, it stopped. Harry panted. "What the Bloody hell was that?!"
But Snape ignored his remark. "So...that amusing display was your doing?" , he hissed.
"Detention Potter and 50 points from Gryffindor..." and it started again.
The practice continued for hours. He hadn't a clue of what it would be like...not a pleasant surprise. In fact, was it even healthy for his age? Was it even possible to beat it?
Harry gritted his teeth with rage as Snape raised his wand. He felt his mind's defenses bend like a rubber under pressure. He hated Snape more than ever, he was certain the lesson was being used for the professor's sick amusement. Harry screamed and bounced back the incoming force. Snape lowered his wand, his eyes flickered.
"I suppose you would catch on eventually... class dismissed."
Harry trotted out , aggravated. How can a first year be expected to compete with a full grown wizard?
Well, isn't Voldemort a full grown wizard? Dammit... he is...
He got back to his quarters to find Remus in an armchair; they were sharing an apartment in the teachers' quarters. He opened his mouth to call Snape the foulest thing he could conceive but he decided that Remus had enough to worry about. He decided that "When's Lunch?" was a worthy replacement.
The eve of School arrived soon and Harry was relieved to find that his lessons would stop. Remus even mentioned that they may have drastically overreacted. Harry was happy to return to slightly more normal life; he could now focus on the next quiditch match much to his content.
He went to bed after a long game of scrabble with Remus and fell into a deep slumber.
He found himself in a familiar house. It seemed to be an old deserted manor. The room appeared to be empty except for faint sobbing in a corner. A fire flickered in the otherwise dark room. Another sound came. It was something gliding across the floor. A snake appeared in on the floor before him. It hissed but somehow he understood. 'There is an old muggle outside the door.'
A cold hiss said. "Wormtail...open the door... we have a guest."
Shuffling of feet and the creak of a door followed.
"Come in Muggle."
"Who are you talking about?! I'm the gardener and you kids better skedaddle before I call the police."
"Please...Mr. Brice, calm down, why would you want to do that?"
There was a flash of green light.
Harry woke up in a cold sweat but his scar was aflame.
Six months, not bad, hm?