Chapter Text
Harry POV
Harry jerked awake, tangling himself in the covers as he did so. The image of the long, black corridor was rapidly fading from his mind as he took in his surroundings. He was at Grimmauld Place. He was sharing a room with Fred and George. He has not been expelled from Hogwarts. He-. "Harry." Harry jumped, turning towards the sound. Everything was a blur, so he scooped up his glasses from the bedside table and rammed them onto his face. The room was dimly lit by the two wands in front of him. As the things in front of him came into focus, he recognised two faces, exactly identical. "Fred." He said at the closest identical face. "Are you alright, Harry?" Fred asked. Harry nodded, taking deep breaths in an attempt to steady his racing heart. "Are you sure? Scared us a bit there, mate. We couldn't wake you up. I was about to go and get Sirius." George said. Again, Harry nodded. "Yeah. Just- just a bad dream about he Third Task." Harry had a feeling that the twins didn't believe him. Thankfully, George retreated to his bed without any further questioning, and Fred pulled him into a warm, comforting hug. Harry rested his head on Fred's chest and continued to breathe deeply. He might not sleep again tonight, he could tell Fred about the dream once George was snoring again. He felt bad for lying, but a long, dark corridor that was strangely familiar is harder to explain than the Third Task. Even so, Harry let Fred's steady heartbeat soothe him. Lifting his head off of Fred's chest, he glanced up to meet his boyfriend's eyes. The sapphire blue irises, concern and anxiousness forged by the events of the night, glistened by the moonlight streaming through the windows and reflected through the moisture in them. Harry gazed back down at him, feeling nothing but love for the redhead he adored so much.
"Do you want to lay back down?" Fred asked quietly, so only Harry could hear. Harry nodded, and Fred guided him back to the bed, tugging the covers up and around the pair of them. Harry snuggled against Fred's chest and continued to listen to his heartbeat. "What was the dream about?" Harry tensed slightly, so Fred rubbed soothing circles on his back. Harry listened carefully. Thankfully, all he could hear was George lightly snoring from the next bed. Thanking Merlin for blessing George with quick sleeping, he explained to Fred about the corridor, what it looked like, how it was oddly familiar, and how it made his scar prickle. "It's strange. I don't know how I've seen it before, but I know I have." He concluded. Fred sighed and tugged Harry closer to him. "Maybe it's just some sort of trauma from the Third Task. I can't explain how you've seen it before, but the Third Task might have something to do with it. Do you want me to get Mum? See if she has anything for your scar?" Harry shook his head. His scar was barely prickling, now that he had explained the dream to Fred. Surprisingly, it made him feel better, more relaxed, when he spoke about what he had seen.
Fred rolled over onto his back, temporarily letting go of Harry until the younger boy rested his head on Fred's chest. Harry wrapped his arm around Fred's waist, running his free hand through the flaming red hair. He let Fred's slow, deep breaths soothe him. Fred fell asleep before him, his low, gentle snores vibrating in his chest. Harry chuckled silently. He'd never heard Fred snore before. His thoughts were drawn away from the dream as he listened with amusement as Fred and George's snores fell in sync. They inhaled, then exhaled, together. He let the sound relax him as he finally fell into a doze.
The same dream about the long, black corridor continued to plague him for the next few nights. Every time he woke up, Fred and George would be at the door of his bed, wands lit. After making sure he was alright, George would retreat to his own bed; Harry and Fred would stay awake for another half hour while Harry recalled the dream. It was the same every night, but Fred always listened and gave his opinion on the recurring nightmare. It was only after three days of the relentless taunting that Harry decided to speak to Sirius about it, after much badgering from Fred and Hermione. "You have to tell him, he's your godfather!" Fred has exclaimed one sunny afternoon, while the twins, Harry, Ron and Hermione were all sat in the drawing room. "Fred's right, Harry, you can't keep it from him. He cares about you, we all do, but you should talk to him about it." Hermione had said. Harry recalled thinking about how smart Hermione could be, but also how stupid. "I can't. He'll go to Dumbledore, and he has enough on his mind." He said. Harry was adamant that Sirius wouldn't find out, at least not from him. "Well, if you don't tell him, then we will. He needs to know, mate." Ron said, crossing his arms over his chest. Harry sighed. "Fine. But if he goes to Dumbledore, just know I will hate you forever." The four people in from of him just smiled.
"Sirius, can I have a word? Privately?" Harry asked at dinner that night, leaning to the side slightly so that only Sirius could hear him. His godfather looked down at him, concern lining his face. "Of course, is everything alright?" He said quietly. Harry nodded.
"I'll explain later." After dinner, they left before anyone else had even began to rise from the table, and headed to the drawing room. "What's going on, Harry?" Sirius asked. Harry took a deep breath, pondering how to start his story. "Well, it sort of started right after the Third Task. I keep having these dreams. It's always the same: a long corridor. I'm hurtling towards it, trying desperately to reach something, but I never do. I always wake up right before I find the something I'm after. And the corridor- it's familiar. I don't know, it just is. And every time I wake up, my scar it sort of prickles for a while." Sirius nodded and hummed in thought.
"Do you know what it is you're chasing?" Harry shook his head. "No. I've got a feeling I do, somewhere, but as soon as I wake up, the dream sort of fades from memory." He felt extremely foolish, like he was doing a bad job of explaining the situation. "Does Fred know?" Harry was taken aback by this question. He wasn't expecting Sirius to question him about his love life whilst talking about a dream. "Er... yeah. Yeah, of course we- we share a bed." He all but whispered the last part, staring at his shoes. Sirius walked forwards and grasped Harry's shoulders. "Harry, look at me." Harry rose his head, staring into Sirius' silver eyes. "I think your dreams are just an aftermath of the Third Task. You're confused, your mind is everywhere, and it's taking you to a place you barely recognise. I get why you're concerned, but I wouldn't worry. If it continues, you owl me, ok?" Harry nodded, feeling more relieved than he had all summer, like a weight had been lifted from his chest. Sirius pulled him into a hug, and Harry buried his face in his chest. Thanking Merlin for Hermione's wisdom and Fred's persuasion skills, he held onto his godfather. He was going to miss Sirius when he goes back to Hogwarts.
Sirius had been acting different lately, usually choosing to spend time up in his room with Buckbeak rather than with everyone else. He was isolating himself, and when he came out of his room he was usually moody and quiet, much unlike the cheery Sirius Harry knew. "Well you'd feel lonely too, if you had to be cooped up in here by yourself all the time!" Hermione had said when Harry breached the subject one evening. "I bet a part of him wanted you to be expelled, so you could be outcasts together."
"Come off it!" Ron and Harry exclaimed together, while Fred and George exclaimed "no way!" Hermione, however, only shrugged. "Suit yourselves. But I still think that your Mum's right when she says that Sirius sometimes gets Harry and James mixed up." Harry felt himself go red in the face. "So you think he's touched in the head?" He said heatedly.
"No! I just think he's been alone for too long. He'll have company, of course. This place is the Headquarters for the Order of course, but personally I think he's being selfish."
"That's a bit harsh, Hermione." Ron said. "You wouldn't want to be stuck in here 24/7 would you?" Hermione shrugged again. "It doesn't really matter. When the Order's not around, he'll have Kreacher." She said, referring to the old house elf that taunted every living thing that set foot in the Noble House of Black. "Yeah, because he's such a cheerful thing to be around all the time." George said sarcastically. Hermione frowned at him. "If we treated him with respect and gave him some rights, I bet he'll be loads better behaved than what he is now! It's not his fault people are horrible to him!" She all but shouted, taking George by surprise. "Whoa, chill Granger." He said, raising his hands in surrender. "Just come back and tell me the same thing the next time that old brat calls you a Mudblood."
"He had that notion implanted in his head by his masters! Maybe now that you know how dreadful people can affect house elves like him, you'll be more active in SPEW." She said, hope now edging her voice. Harry and the Weasleys just groaned. "You know, people really could use a taste of house elves' lives. Maybe we could do a sponsored clean up of the Gryffindor Common Room, all proceeds going to SPEW. It could help raise awareness." They groaned again, and Ron had mumbled "i'll sponsor you to shut up about SPEW."
As the house got quiet again, Harry found himself thinking of, not just his dream, but Hogwarts as well. His near-expulsion experience had made him realise just how much he missed school. Playing Quidditch, attending class, even just walking down to see Hagrid in his giant wooden hut sent a pang to his chest whenever he thought about them. Being inside the HQ of the Order that was fighting against Voldemort wasn't as appealing as it used to be. Order members came and went, but hardly ever stopped for dinner. He got a glimpse of Professor McGonagall at one point, but she didn't stay for long. Even using Fred and George's Extendable Ears has been useless, as wards had been set up so they couldn't listen in.
The night before they were due to set off back to Hogwarts, Bill and Mundungus joined them for dinner, much to the joy and slight annoyance of Mrs Weasley. Harry, Fred and George were sat with Dung, as the twins were trying to buy something off of him. George showed Harry what was in his hands. They looked like wrinkled black pods. "Venomous Tentacula seeds." George said. "We need them for our Skiving Snackboxes but there a Class C Non-Tradeable Substance so we haven't been able to get hold of any." He said, wrinkling his nose slightly. "Ten Galleons for the lot, eh, Dung?" Fred said, getting his money bag or if his pocket. "Sorry lads, not taking a Knut under twenty. Took too much trouble to get 'em." Fred grinned at Harry and kissed his forehead. "Dung loves his little jokes." He smiled as George pondered the six Sickles they paid for Knarl quills. "Be careful. Moody could have his eye on you." Dung went slightly pale and shoved the rest of the seeds into George's hands. "Good point. Ten Galleons, lads, if you'll take 'em quick."
As Harry was retreating to his room for the night with Fred, they heard sobbing comping from the drawing room. They both froze and walked closer to the door. "That's Mum." Fred murmured. They slowly opened to door. To Harry's horror, Ron was laying dead on the floor. Looking up at Fred, he saw that he was very pale. Ron was covered in blood, and Mrs Weasley was sobbing next to him, pointing her wand at the body. Hang on. Harry thought. I just saw Ron downstairs. Mrs Weasley raises her wand, then pointed it back at Ron. "Ridikulus!" Crack. Dead Ginny. Harry's heart lurked. Her body was bent in all sorts of different angles. Crack. Dead Mr Weasley. Crack. Dead twins. Crack. Dead Percy. Crack. Dead Harry. It continued until Remus burst through the door, the Boggart turning itself into a moon, then exploding into dust. Remus hugged Mrs Weasley tightly. "It's just, half-half the f-family's in the Order! P-Percy's not talking to us as- as well. What if- what if something d-dreadful h-happens to me and A-Arthur and we never make it up to- to him? Who'll take care of- of Ron and Ginny? F-Fred and George have-haven't even finished s-school yet!" Remus smiled.
"Sometimes you're not the brightest person, Molly. What do you think we'd do, let them starve? They'll always have us, should something happen. I doubt it will, though, you Weasleys are so strong. Besides, the Order are better prepared this time. We know what the Death Eaters are up to, we have a lead, a head start. The last time we were outnumbered twenty to one. This time, we have the advantage."
"Don't worry about Percy." Sirius said abruptly. "He'll come around. Once Voldemort-" Fred gave a jolt of fright at the name "- moves into the open, the Ministry will be practically begging for forgiveness. I know I, for one, won't be accepting their apology." Mrs Weasley chuckled. "Yes, you're right. Silly- so silly of me." Remus released Mrs Weasley as she dabbed at her eyes with her sleeve. "There's nothing silly, Molly! Everyone's afraid of something, and your family's deaths are a more than rational fear!" Fred stepped forward and knelt in front of his Mum. "Yeah. For example, I'm most afraid of George dying. And he's most afraid of me dying." He took hold of Mrs Weasley's hand. "It's normal to be afraid of Death, Mum." Mrs Weasley pilled Fred into a hug, murmuring things Harry couldn't hear. Everyone stood and watched until she released Fred a minute later.
Harry, laying in bed that night, could not think of Mrs Weasley as silly. He thought if the people in the photograph Mad-Eye had shown him, all the smiling faces who didn't know their lives were about to end. The image of Fred and George lying dead on the ground, bleeding copiously from multiple wounds was firmly imprinted on his mind, so he couldn't forget that they, too, could be taken away at any moment. Suddenly, his scar seared with pain. He clamped his hand to his forehead, sitting up abruptly. "Cut it out." He said. Fred rose next to him. "You alright?" He said quietly. Harry grasper his head tighter as the pain intensified. "Fine. My scar's hurting, that's all." He whispered. The pain slowly faded, and he relaxed into Fred's arms.
"You know in the drawing room, when Mum hugged me, she told me she's proud of me. Proud of who I've become." Fred said shortly after, holding Harry a little tighter. Harry shifted so he could wrap his arm around Fred's waist. "Really?" He asked. Fred hummed in agreement. "Yeah. She told me she was happy that George and I know what we want to do, and who we want to be. She said she's proud of us for reaching Head Boys, and that we're doing so well in life. It was strange, I never expected her to say anything like that." Harry squeezed Fred comfortingly. "I'm sure she means every word. You two are amazing, and your shop is going to be successful." Fred sighed and laid back down on the bed. Harry joined him, laying his head across Fred's broad chest. "I get dreams too, you know." Harry shifted slightly, remembering not so fondly the night that Fred had woken up screaming. "Yeah, I'm aware." He said, a little harsher than he intended. He heard Fred take a deep breath, feeling the exhale ruffle his hair. "It's more like a nightmare, really. I can't explain it, I don't know how." Harry hates to admit it, but Fred sounded nervous, and a little scared. He couldn't help but think of what could possibly scare the seemingly fearless Fred Weasley. "I see George. And you. And Ron, and Ginny. All tied up in a row, tied to those straight wooden chairs McGonagall conjures. Then there's You Know Who, and he tortured you. All of you. One by one, until you're all screaming at him to kill you, which he does. In the most painful, evil, brutal way possible. Slicing and dicing. Some nights, I just can't get away, and I'm tied to a chair, forced to watch. Those are the worst nights. Other nights when I have them, I try and fight You Know Who, but then I get killed, or he just kills you all. I hate it, Harry, I really do. I don't ever want to lose you, or any of my siblings. The only reason I'm scared of You Know Who is because of what I see in my dreams. I don't know what he actually looks like, but in my dream he's a bit like a pale snake with blood red eyes." Harry's heart was hammering in his chest. The image that Fred's story brought to mind was the most unpleasant he had ever seen. He couldn't imagine what dreaming that almost every night could feel like. Suddenly, the dream about the long corridor seemed so tame, so mild to watching your closest family members being tortured and killed while you helplessly watched. "But none of that matters, because it's all fake and in my head." Fred said, almost cheerfully.
"I do wonder how you do it sometimes, Freddie." He said wonderingly, as Fred chuckled and tugged the covers up to their necks. "Young love. Bleurgh." Came the voice from the painting.