A/N: Jeez, I'm so slow at updating. But I need to get my mind off of stuff that's happening right now so I'm going to lose myself into the wonderful world of fan fiction. :D Before I go, is anyone even reading this still? I'm just really curious - since it's a one lady job now, it's harder to get the plot together from near scratch, and I want to know if it's causing the story to go downhill. Anyways, regardless of that, here's the next chapter! Enjoy!
Thanks for all the reviews! I've been meaning to respond to loads of reviews, but I haven't had much time to. Forgive me! If you asked something and I never responded, please just ask again and I'll give you the answer! I promise to respond to any and all reviews for this chapter, unless otherwise completely occupied.
Preternatural
By: xScenex
Chapter Eleven: His Coincidence, My Dependence
Harry's eyes snapped open. He sat up hurriedly, looking around.
He was still in the common room, and the sun was just beginning to rise over the treetops. No one was up yet, as it was Sunday morning. No one would get up until later in the morning, closer to the afternoon hours. He sighed heavily before shaking his head wonderingly.
The boy sat up fully and stretched catlike on the chair, his thin arms extended in front of him like those of a ghost. It hadn't been the most comfortable thing he'd slept in, he mused slightly, but it wasn't the worst.
After stretching, he flopped back into the chair, letting the warmth heat his back. It felt nice to just sit there, unbothered as the nearly dead fire emitted a soft glow into the dimly lighted common room.
He tilted his head to the side a bit and examined a portrait on the wall above the mantle through the strands of hair that feel in the way. A woman inside the picture lay asleep in her chair, a ball of yarn dangling from her lap.
He stared at her for a while, wondering just who she was before his focus went to the dream he had had that night.
What had that all been about? He hadn't remembered many dreams in the past few weeks, but that one had been quite vivid. He could still feel his heart fluttering from the many emotions he had felt in his dream.
There seemed to be some kind of recognition in his dream as well, but he couldn't place it. Who was the person in the end before he woke up? And what had that thing been that had filled his dream-self with fear?
He shook his head slowly and closed his eyes as his hair fell into his face, shielding his face from view. He decided to just forget about it. Dreams were dreams, and they usually didn't help him at all - look at what happened to Sirius in his other life.
Harry sat there for a while, just letting the silence of the room take over him until he heard people beginning to stir from the upstairs dormitories. He could hear muttering and doors opening as the early birds began to dress for the day, efficiently bugging the others.
He didn't move from his spot until he heard someone coming down one of the staircases.
Cracking open one of his eyes, he saw a flash of bushy brown hair. What a surprise.
"Morning, Hermione," he said quietly, his lips barely moving as he spoke.
Said girl stopped in her tracks to look around her. "Oh, hi Harry." She seemed mildly surprised to see him. "You're up early."
"So are you," he replied, sitting up straight and stretching once more. There was a dull soreness in his bones, and he found it uncomfortable. "We don't even have classes today."
"But there's homework to be done," the girl said in a nearly exasperated tone.
Harry shook his head once more and stood up, his shirt wrinkled from the nights stay in the common room. He gave the girl a lopsided smile before replying, "I'm only joking, Hermione."
Hermione in turn just stared at him, her gaze scrutinizing obvious.
"You're a mess. What happened to you?"
Harry gave her a quizzical look, "Just one of those rough nights, you know?"
She shook her head with a frown pulling down on her lips, "You really should take better care of yourself." Hermione took a seat next to the chair he had been sitting in.
"Yeah, yeah," he mumbled. "Look, I don't want to talk about this, okay?"
The girl nodded slowly. "So, have you started on that essay for Professor McGonagall?"
Harry shook his head negatively, "Nah. I've been occupied."
She gave him a sour look, "You really shouldn't put your school work second. What do you expect to do after this year? It's our last chance to set ourselves for a career - do you even know what you want to be?"
Harry gave her a small smile, although his eyes were focused on something distant - something more far away than the room.
Thoughts of his old life surfaced, and he wondered what he really did want to do or if he'd ever get the chance to do it. Maybe he'd die as a hero - then he wouldn't have to worry about a career. That seemed to be how everyone thought it would be in his old life.
"I once thought about becoming an Auror," he told her, his voice laced with bitter amusement. "But I'm not sure I'll last long enough to become one."
"Of course you can, if you set your mind to it," Hermione chattered on matter-of-factly, not catching onto the true meaning of his words.
Harry stared at her as she continued to lecture him about the 'proper way to approach things' while not really even hearing She hadn't changed a bit. He nodded slowly when she looked expectantly at him and her face brightened.
"You see! You're smart enough to do it - maybe you can get some extra lessons so that you can catch up on the classes you need to become one. I'm sure if you ask Dumbledore, or even McGonagall, she'll find a way to try and get you extra help. Not that I'm saying that you aren't learning well, it's just…"
Harry felt his lips twitching into a smile again as she tried to find the right way to put the words. "I sucked?"
"No!" she nearly screamed, exasperation in her eyes. She huffed loudly after realizing that he was just playing around with her.
Harry stood up, laughing slightly. "I'm only joking with you, Hermione. Anyway, I'm going to go upstairs for a bit. I'll catch you around."
He took off, not waiting for her answer. As soon as he rounded the corner of the staircase so that he was out of view of Hermione, he took the steps slowly, but deliberately at a snail pace so that he would postpone going up into his dormitory. He wasn't sure how the other boys would act towards him.
Within a minute, he found himself stopping at the door to their shared room and reached out for the doorknob. He could hear some muttering from inside and strained to hear the voices. They were barely recognizable. He paused with his hand hovering above the brass knob.
"-- see why it's such a big deal." It sounded like Neville was speaking.
"He might be one of them." Ron, of course.
"I doubt that. He was at the department with us last year. I don't think he'd just up and change his mind like that."
"But I don't trust him anymore, and you can't blame me for that."
Harry knew that he was who they were talking about. Gritting his teeth together in annoyance, he loudly rattled the doorknob before turning it fully and pushing the door open. He didn't want to just walk in on them in the middle of their speech and cause more tension.
It seemed that only Neville and Ron were awake at the time. They both turned in his direction when he stepped into the room slowly. Neville smiled slightly at him, albeit nervously. Ron just stared.
"Sorry to interrupt you," Harry said silkily, though he strained the first word. He could feel a slight anger in his chest, but he pushed it down with the reminder that he had to keep things as normal as possible around the two of them, otherwise he might just get found out. "I'll just be changing, and then I'll go."
The next few minutes were awkward as he bustled about, pulling his bed curtains closed so that he could change his clothing in private. He heard a bit of muffled whispering, but blocked it out after the first few seconds. He'd rather not hear anything being said about him.
After pulling his shirt over his head, he left, bidding the others goodbye with just a look before he went back into the common room.
A few more people had risen for the day and sat either tiredly or hungrily in the chairs scattered throughout the room. Harry couldn't bring himself to look at anyone, for he was too annoyed and was afraid he'd glare down upon them if they even chanced a glance. No doubt word was getting around that he was nothing more than an insane boy.
His path directed him towards the door, which opened readily for him. He quietly hopped up onto the upper platform and started down the hallway, wondering if it was too early to actually go have breakfast. He guessed it was all right; the less people there, the better.
When he entered the Great Hall, he saw no one there. The professors weren't even at the high table yet.
Stifling a small yawn, Harry sulked to the end of the Gryffindor Table, where he had fallen accustomed to sitting. As soon as his bottom hit the seat, a tray of toast, bacon, and sausages appeared in front of him.
He stared blankly at it for a few seconds before grimacing in disgust. None of it sounded appetizing at the moment. He stared away from the steaming food and looked up above himself. The ceiling swirled with grey clouds.
It looked like a late summer storm was moving in.
Harry glanced idly at the food again but shook his head. He didn't want it. He pushed himself away from the table with his arms and swung his legs around the bench before standing up and making his way towards the main door that led to the Hogwarts grounds.
Outside, there was a slight wind beginning to pick up, carrying with it the smell of rain. It felt a bit muggy, but otherwise nice, Harry noted as he stood in the shadows of one of the many pillars and stared out at the endless green grounds.
After a few minutes, the boy slid down to the concrete ground and rested his head against the column, his black locks falling elegantly against his thin shoulders. He rested his elbows against his knees, and held his hands out, palm upwards.
They were just as thin as they were before his aunt had given him that strange object that had led him to that world. They still shook slightly, but this time, he knew it was from nerves.
Thinking on the subject, he wondered once more what had actually happened the night he was brought into that alternate version of his world. Maybe he should try looking for the object in textbooks. Luna might even know, he thought to himself. She seemed to know more than he did at the moment about everything.
Harry clinched his hands together tightly. It just wasn't fair. He hated not knowing. In the dark, he was always unsure of his choices - he'd made so many wrong ones that he couldn't trust himself with the paths anymore, seeing as to how things were turning out.
Sure, he wasn't a savior anymore, but he was now just an ordinary boy expected to do ordinary things. Anything out of step labeled him a freak, even in Wizarding standards. Especially when he showed 'suddenly increasing' magical tendencies that he 'used to not have'.
Sighing heavily, he glanced out at the sky again. He wished it would rain, right then and there to block out the deafening quiet that surrounded him. Even the wind couldn't be heard although it blew around him and the pillars.
His eyes traveled down away from the clouds, and to the forest further away. He could see a large figure moving to and fro around a large hut, and knew it had to be Hagrid. He hadn't even spoken to the half-giant since he'd been in that world. Was he even friends with him?
He figured not, since the Neville from his world had always preferred Herbology over anything else. But why not make a 'new' acquaintance?
He hesitated, though. What if Hagrid didn't like him? Or what if he already was friends with him? It would be slightly awkward if he introduced himself again to someone who knew him.
Harry sighed heavily and lightly bumped his head back against the pillar a few times. It was hopeless to try and figure anything out.
A light whoosh suddenly sounded around the area, and he looked to the side. A light, dull grey rain had started to fall towards the ground and concrete.
He watched as the blades of grass slowly glistened with the drops of precipitation, and the concrete soon turned a dark grey. Everything felt drearier for some reason.
"Potter!"
Harry, not expecting anyone to be out there at that time of the morning, turned his head quickly to find the source of noise.
When he spotted the person of interference, he groaned in annoyance. It was none other than Draco Malfoy; again.
He vaguely wondered if the Slytherin was following him around. He seemed to always appear when he least expected him to, and when no one else was around.
As he watched the blonde boy walk fluidly towards him, a small smirk on his face, Harry wondered what he wanted.
Was he going to argue with Harry about the mirror again? Or was he going to hex him to Hades and back? The latter sounded more like Malfoy, but he wasn't really up to that.
"What do you want, Malfoy?" Harry asked, his tone quiet.
"You automatically think I want something, Potter?"
"Why else would you bother me?" Harry spat, venom lacing his words. He didn't want to play mind games anymore.
To his surprise, the other boy looked slightly deflated after his remark, but he quickly recovered. Just then, Harry noticed the dark circles that lined the underside of the boy's eyes. It seemed that he hadn't slept much.
"'Bother' is a harsh word," he told him smoothly, his eyes dancing with pleasure as Harry's face twisted in anger. "You shouldn't be so egotistical about thinking you know other people. I don't 'bother' you Potter. I just treat you how you deserve to be treated."
Harry stood up quicker than he usually did, surprising Malfoy slightly. "Just shut up," he ground out between clenched teeth. "I don't want to mess with you right now."
The Gryffindor turned on heel, heading towards to main doors again. "So just leave me alone and don't bother me."
He actually thought that Malfoy would let him go after he had taken a few steps without interference, but he felt a hand grab his shoulder seconds later. He reached in his pocket and pulled his wand out. He was about to turn around when he felt the grip tighten, and Malfoy whispered quietly.
"Don't worry, Potter, I wont."
He froze. Those words sounded so familiar…
… suffocation enveloped him… he saw nothing…
"Who's there?" A noise. "Help!"
"Hush…"
"Don't let me go…"
"Don't worry, Harry, I wont…"
His dream from the night before rushed past him before he had time to even blink, and he turned frantically around, no longer caring that he held a wand.
He stared quizzically and anxiously at the Slytherin's surprised face, who seemed only mere inches from his. His pale hair glowed as the grey light from behind made a light silhouette around his form.
"What did you say?" he whispered out desperately, trying to find the meaning to everything. His voice sounded of shock.
Stepping back in complete confusion, Malfoy said angrily, "What's with you? You really are mad, aren't you?"
Harry shook his head slowly, black locks swaying with the movements, and stepped back a few paces. "Something's happening," he whispered to himself so quietly that the other boy didn't hear him.
He turned quickly and headed towards the doors again at a near run, not daring to look back at the other boy. He didn't need to - the look on his face after Harry had turned around was already etched into his mind. It had to be a mere coincidence that he had said almost the exact same words as the person in his dream. It had to be…
He reached the doors and pushed them open, slipping inside and running down one of the nearest halls without even thinking of where it would lead him.
Harry had to get away from everyone for a while. Everything seemed to be happening more quickly than anything he'd ever been through before. It was like two lives sewed into one, moving two times as fast but at the same time, burdened slower with two alternatives.
Everything was just getting complicated, and Harry feared that he couldn't put a stop to it. He just wanted to burrow somewhere and be left alone.
But nothing ever seemed to go his way. He just wanted to get out of the nightmare. But there was no one there to wake him up, and help him escape from the dream that was reality. He doubted that there every would be.
A/N: Does this even make sense? Erg… I feel utterly icky right now, and not in a 'flu-sick' way. Anyway, please tell me if you're confused or if you're following this all right, because I'm really not sure what this sounds and looks like in someone else's perspective.