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Family Means More Than Blood	By : WingsofaDream Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 59825 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 7
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and its associated characters are property of J K Rowling, not me. This story is not being written for profit, just for the lols.

Chapter List
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14th February 1993: Evening

A rather loud yawn rushed out of Harry's widely opened mouth as he trudged down the stairs leading into the Gryffindor common room. It had been a long day and he was tired, exhausted even, yet he could not sleep. It was frustrating and it made little sense, but the moment his head had hit his pillow, he had suddenly been wide awake. And now, even worse, he was back to feeling tired again. He was going to stick to his original plan though; to sit and read in front of the fire and probably fall asleep in the chair only to wake up in a few hours with a stiff neck and sore back.

The common room was understandably empty as it was quite late, plus Valentines day as well. The Upper Years who would still be allowed to be up were most likely off somewhere with love-interests, no doubt doing things which were against the school rules. He imagined that the teachers had more of an "out of sight, out of mind" thing though; the official rule was for the benefit of the parents but it was only enforced if students were actually...Caught in the act, so to speak. Much like Draco.

Despite what Severus obviously thought about him, between listening to Fred and George as well as the general school gossip, Harry felt he had an all too real idea that the Slytherin was no stranger to...Kanoodling, in all its various shapes and forms. Especially if the devastated look on several faces that morning when Draco had given him a Valentine's gift were anything to go by. Most of those had been the expressions of people who were not just upset that the boy they fancied did not fancy them back but of pure devastation and total shock that they had not received something. Though they were Slytherins, maybe they were just so full of themselves that they thought Draco should be interested in them.

And that brought him onto another point. Fred and George were of the opinion that Draco fancied Harry and Harry definitely thought that the soothing "I love you" Draco had said to him on the day after the blood-line parchment incident was anything but brotherly. If all of that was true, why the was Draco going around seemingly with the sole intent on having relations with as many Slytherins as he could possibly manage? Though to add weight to the "Draco loved Harry" argument, Harry was the only one in the school who had received a gift from Draco and the look on the blond's face when he had received the cards and gifts from not only Marcia and Rhys this year but also cards from a shy Ginny and Hermione. He had looked positively enraged. It was all very confusing which was why Harry was handling it in the simplest way possible; he was ignoring it.

Harry collapsed in a nice, soft arm chair in front of the lit fire place and released a soft sigh of comfort. After all the stress of the past two weeks it was nice to have a little bit of quiet time, something he had not had the chance to have. Everyone seemed to hold the opinion that he was on the verge of having a repeat episode and so had not left him alone for any significant length of time. If Fred and George were not by his side then Draco was and every single Potions and Transfiguration lesson he had had since, he had been asked to stay behind after class so that his father and his Head of House respectively could ask him how everything was and if he was all right or wanted to talk about something. Hermione also liked to check in with him more often as well, always saying hello if they passed in the corridors and usually finding an excuse to pull him aside every now and again to check how he was holding up. As for the rest of the student population, after the first couple of days had passed, they had been surprisingly respectful of his privacy. They had stopped staring at him and the whispering had also come to an end. He figured that the professors must have said something to them all, or at least Severus had.

Half way through the day after the actual incident, he had been questioned about what had happened in great detail by Dumbledore. And then, the following Sunday, the questioning had been repeated with High Priest Sephiran. Both occasions had been very trying but Harry had managed to get through them quite easily and he was pretty sure his story had remained consistent the whole time.

A sudden loud thump had Harry eyes, which had closed in relaxation, flying open seconds before he had leapt out of his seat in surprise. He looked in the direction the noise had come from and was more then a little startled to see that Potter was now sitting in a chair in front of a desk over to one side of the common room. "Where did you come from?" He asked, trying to hide how much the sudden noise had startled him. He was so startled in fact that he failed to realise that this was the first time since he had learnt about who he was that he had had any real contact with the boy.

"No where, I've been here the whole time." Potter answered quickly, too quickly.

"...Okay..." Harry replied unsurely as he moved around his chair, planning on retreating back to his dorm room. However, as he moved past the Second Year, he noticed what it was that was on the desk the boy had been sitting at. He frowned slightly and moved over to it quickly, snatching it up for closer examination before Potter could even react. "Where did you get this?" He breathed in disbelief, recognising the small book perfectly; it was the one he had been given in Knockturn Alley in the summer, before school had even started.

"Found it."

"Where?"

"Girls' bathroom." The boy answered easily, obviously not thinking before he spoke.

Harry rose an eyebrow at the boy. "And what were you doing in the girls' bathroom, Potter?"

"It was flooded; Ron and I just went in there to see what was going on. Now, if you don't mind, I'd like it back." He said with a frown as he held his hand out.

It was then that Harry's brain decided to remember his newly acquired knowledge of who he was and for a second, he froze completely. Here he was, talking to someone he should hate more than anything and all he could think of was how he was actually his younger brother. They shared the same parents, they had the same genes, they should be somewhat friendly with each other, playing Quidditch together on weekends and sticking together in order to stand up against their parents and other figures of authority. They were brothers, they should have all that, they shared a common history...

But then it hit him that, no, they did not. They did not share a common history because Harry had no history with the Potters having spent all of an hour or two with them throughout his entire life. This boy in front of him, waiting for him to hand over the book, he was not his brother. He was just a stranger who just happened to have the same birth parents. That was the extent of their connection. Harry had nothing more to do with this boy, he was not part of his family.

Snapping out of his self-induced trance-like thoughts, Harry focused back on Potter and carelessly dropped the book into the younger boy's held out hand. Then, without further word, he turned to go, moving towards the stairs which led up back up to the dorms until his surname being spoken drew his attention. He glanced over his shoulder to find Potter looking somewhat unsure of himself.

"That thing that happened to you a couple of weeks ago, it was nothing too serious, right?" The Second Year asked awkwardly and Harry realised what he was really being asked almost instantly. This was not an enquiry made out of pure concern, Potter just wanted to know whether they could continue their rivalry without him having to feel guilty for purposely annoying a teenager with a fragile mind.

"Don't worry, Potter, I'm still able to hold my own against a sniveling little brat like you. In fact, I think a visit to Professor McGonagall in the morning is in order; I'm sure she'll be extremely interested to know that you're up after your curfew."

"You're up as well!"

"Ah yes, but I'm in a fragile state of mind, aren't I? I'm sure Professor McGonagall would understand me being up because of my nightmares." The older boy smirked before turning back around and heading back up the stairs to his dorm, his triumphant grin remaining on his face right up until he finally fell asleep.

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1st April 1993: Early Morning

"Wake up!" An excited yell right in Harry's ear immediately dragged him back into consciousness and made him wince at the sting it caused. He was aware of the pressure of another's body on his back as he was laying on his stomach and a light frown crossed his tired face.

"Fred, get off me." He muttered irritably, trying to shift the boy on top of him off.

"I'm not Fred, I'm George."

"Honestly Harry, we thought you had it down to a tee the number of times you get it right first go." The other's voice said from beside the bed as the mattress dipped under a new weight.

"Well excuse me for not being completely awake yet but I should still be asleep." Harry mumbled as he tried to pull the covers further up, hoping to get them over his head. "Why am I awake now anyway?"

Both twins gave exaggerated gasps of horror. "Harry, our bestest friend in the world..."

"...Has forgotten that today is the most important day of the year!"

"Not only is it April Fools day..."

"...It is also the anniversary of the birth of two fabulously talented..."

"...Not to mention handsome..."

"...Weasleys."

"You expect me to remember all that the instant I wake up? Have you not been sharing a dorm room with me for the past four years?"

"But it's the first of April!" George pouted insistently.

"Surely that should be the one date engraved in your mind!" Fred said with an obvious grin in his tone.

"Oh yes, of course it is, the most important day in my life." Harry grinned back as he pushed himself up onto his forearms, finally managing to buck George off of him. "I take it you both want your presents now, then?" He mumbled as he swung his legs over the side of the bed and paused a moment to rub his eyes with one hand as he reached blindly for his glasses with the other.

"Of course." They chorused together.

Harry slipped his glasses onto his nose and glanced at the two boys, stopping completely when he saw what they had pinned to their school robes. Each wore absolutely massive badges, about the sizes of sandwich plates, which read "Now I'm fifteen", their new age, and then swirled away into fireworks and streamers and the words "Anyone younger is not worthy" appeared before going back to the first scene.

"My gift to Fred."

"And my gift to George."

"Original." Harry yawned sarcastically as he stood up and trudged around to get to his trunk at the foot of his bed. He opened the top and rummaged around inside a bit before pulling out a couple of wrapped boxes. "Happy birthday to the both of you."

"Thanks." George said quickly as he grabbed his present and immediately began to rip into it.

"Thanks Harry." Fred said more calmly, taking his present and pulling it open rather than tearing or ripping it.

"Oooo!" George gushed excitedly as he held his newly revealed gift in front of himself at arm's length. "Mad Alchemist Potions for Fizzing, Swelling and Sticking Kit!"

"The only training potions kit officially recommended by Potions Master Professor Severus Snape." Harry grinned as he returned to his trunk to pull out his school robes. "He was the one who recommended it, and yours too, Fred." He explained as he looked up to Fred who had finished un-wrapping his own gift which was a similar kit to George's but contained different ingredients and different instructions on what to make.

"Oh, there are going to be so many people cursing your generosity, Harry." Fred cackled gleefully as he pulled open the box and began to sort through all the different things it contained.

Harry only smiled at that, glad that his gifts were appreciated, before he left the twins alone in order to get washed and dressed for the day ahead.

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1st April 1993: Early Morning

Greetings of happy birthday from their fellow Gryffindors welcomed Fred and George and, by default, Harry, as they entered the Great Hall for breakfast. The twins were still wearing the badges they had given each other and had huge grins on their faces, the like of which could probably power a light bulb. They sat down at their usual spot at the Gryffindor table and, almost instantly, Fred was diving for the food as though he had not eaten for days. George though, was looking slightly pondering.

"What d'ya reckon the chances are of the professors letting us eat cake for breakfast, lunch and dinner?"

"Slim." Harry laughed as he grabbed a piece of toast to butter.

"That should be a new rule that people can eat whatever they want on their birthday."

"That would hardly be fair on us lot who have our birthdays during the summer or the Christmas holidays."

"Surely the fact you don't have to have lessons on your birthday more than makes up for it?" Fred joined the conversation after swallowing a mouthful of scrambled egg.

Harry opened his mouth to reply but closed it again when he noticed there three familiar mops of red hair coming their way. "Looks like you both have more presents coming your way." He noted to his friends, inclining his head to the approaching Weasley off-spring. The twins looked to see their siblings and immediately leapt up, dashing off to meet their brothers and sister halfway.

As the gaggle of Weasleys interacted, Harry watched them all but admittedly paid more attention the youngest one out of them all; Ginny. She was a strange girl really. At the beginning of the school year, she had been completely fine. She had made friends quickly, she had a teeny crush on him and she had generally looked happy. Now though, Harry was unsure why, but she seemed more quiet. She still hung around with her friends but it almost seemed as if she was simply sitting next to them rather than with them, she still acted oddly around him but there seemed to be more to her discomfort than just a minor crush now and she no longer looked particularly happy. On edge, reclusive, nervous; yes. Happy in any way at all; no.

What had happened to make things change though? Had something happened between her and her friends? No, he thought that was unlikely as the girls she went around with still seemed more than happy to have her around and he had seen them try their hardest to include her in their conversations on several occasions. Could it be the affects of the pressures of Hogwarts? It was a possibility but surely if that were the case he could see her surrounded in homework and text books more often. Was it something to do with her crush on him? Probably not as nothing had actually ever happened between them to upset her, seriously or otherwise.

When it came down to it, Harry really did not have a single clue as to what was wrong with the only female Weasley off-spring. He wondered idly, as he watched the girl in question give first Fred and then George separate hugs, if any of her brothers had noticed the odd behaviour and if they had, were they worried about it? Maybe he should mention it to Fred and George? Or maybe Percy would be a better way to go since he was the most mature, even over Charlie and Bill, Harry reckoned. Or perhaps Hermione had noticed something; he had seen Ginny spending some time with her when neither Ron or Potter were around.

Or perhaps, when it came down to it, maybe there wasn't actually anything wrong. After all, what did he, a fourteen year old boy, know about the social habits of a pre-teen girl? Perhaps this was something totally normal for girls to go through, though he could not remember Hermione going through it. Everyone was different though. In the end, who was to say what was normal at their age and what was not?

Harry made his decision. If things seemed to get worse or showed no real signs, no matter how small, or improving, then he would have a word with Percy or Hermione. Until then however, he would stay silent but make sure to continue to keep an eye on the girl, just in case.

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8th May 1993: Morning

"How many do you think we're gonna win by?" Fred asked as he pulled his shirt off of his shoulders to reveal his slightly toned, pale chest.

"Don't ever let anyone tell you you're not modest." Harry teased as he sat down on a bench in order to tie the laces of his shoes, already fully dressed in his Quidditch gear. He glanced up and noticed that the Weasley was now standing there digging through his bag for his Quidditch uniform in nothing more than his underwear; bright yellow boxers with smiley faces. "In any sense of the word."

Fred looked up and then glanced down at himself before grinning. "Just giving the people what they want."

"And he has got a point." George supported his brother's words as he struggled to pull on the trousers of his uniform. "We are playing Hufflepuff after all."

"They've got Cedric Diggory." Harry pointed out.

"One man, a team does not make." George announced grandly, finally getting his trousers on.

"Besides, we've got you." Fred pointed out, earning a frown from his brother for stepping all over his previous point. "Plus, I'll bet you anything no one will even dare come near you for fear of being petrified."

"Thanks for that, Fred." Harry grinned ruefully as he looked around himself to try and locate where he had left his shin-pads.

"You're welcome. So, back to the original question; how many do you think we'll win by?"

"Twenty." Harry predicted with a sigh, feeling he had no choice but to play along even though it was rather big-headed of them to just assume they were going to win.

"We are playing against Hufflepuff remember." Fred reminded playfully and Harry knew full well that the Weasley was trying to annoy him.

"Oh yes, I know who we're playing against but you and George haven't been playing all that great recently have you?" The dark haired boy mused in an overly pondering tone, pausing his search in favour of sending a small smirk in Fred's direction once he had spoken.

"Hey, hey, hey, why are you including me in that insult? What have I done to you?"

"You went along with his "we're only playing Hufflepuff thing"."

George no doubt had something to say about that but whatever it was went unheard by Harry as everything around him faded to black.

He stood in a void of nothingness, just darkness all around Him. Turning, He glanced around himself quickly, trying to locate what it was He was supposed to be seeing. And then there it was, right in front of Him, a hand mirror floating in mid-air. He stepped up to it and peered at the reflective surface. Piercing yellow snake-eyes met His in the mirror and His body stiffened painfully as everything faded away, but not before He saw the reflection of who He was in the mirror...

Hermione Granger.

When reality returned to Harry, he found himself being held up by Fred and George who were calling for someone to go and get a professor. It took him a few seconds to dispel the groggy sensation which was making it hard for him to think properly but when it had sufficiently faded, exactly what he had seen rushed back to him and he began to wrestle to get out of his friends's arms. Having not expected the sudden fight, Fred and George lost their grip on him and he staggered away from them.

"Harry, what..." Fred began to ask as he and George made a move to steady the slighter boy but he moved away from them quickly, starting forward in a run.

"Hermione." Was all that Harry said as he sped off, the other people in the changing room making sure to get out of his way as he zoomed past them.

Why had he not seen it before? Why had he not figured it out in his own? Hermione was Muggle-born, she was obviously going to be a target for whatever it was that was committing these attacks. Surely the teachers knew as well, they could have warned her! He still had time though, he knew he did, he could feel it. What he had seen, it had not happened yet, it would happen soon, but not yet. There was still time to get to her, to protect her.

There were running footsteps following him, he could hear them. That was fine, he did not mind. It might even prove useful, especially if he got there before Hermione was petrified as that might mean they had a monster they would have to fight and he was not confident about a Second Year and a pacifist's chances against a monster.

Where was he going? He was not sure, he was just letting his feet guide him. He had found out that in such situations it was usually best to follow his gut instinct if he wanted things to turn out for the best. So he just kept running as he tried to reassure himself that he would reach her in time to save her.

"Haryon!"

That was his father's voice but it still was not enough to make him stop, not even for long enough to give a brief explanation as to what was wrong. Every second was valuable, even more so when he heard that all too familiar hissing voice which came from everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Every time he had heard that voice, someone had turned up petrified. He was running out of time, he could feel it.

He skidded around a corner and saw that straight ahead of him was the entrance to the library which, now he was here, was the obvious choice. Where else would Hermione be? Without consideration for the librarian, who did not seem to be present anyway, he simply continued to run, his shoes clicking loudly on the bare floor. He paused once inside, trying to hear if there were any clues as to where Hermione was. There was only the sound of running footsteps behind him though, everything else was still and silent. Now feeling an acute sense of dread, Harry took off again, heading to the nearest aisle to check.

Twelve aisles later and Harry was starting to lose hope. He was not the only one in the library now, a gaggle of professors plus Fred and George having arrived. Maybe he had been wrong, maybe what he had seen was going to happen soon, but not yet, in a day or two perhaps. Or maybe his instincts were off and Hermione had been attacked but in a different part of the school.

But then he saw her and all his doubts were replaced with heart-ache as he came to an abrupt stop and just stared at the prone figure. She was on the floor, obviously having over-balanced now she was like a statue. One of her arms was still reaching out as if putting back a book while the other was held in front of her, a small hand mirror in her clenched hand. He broke out of his freeze and took the last few steps to her side, dropping to his knees beside her heavily, most likely bruising the skin there, not that he cared. Sadly, he reached a hand out to her and gently ran the pads of his index and middle fingers down the side of her face; so cold, so stiff. He had failed her, he had not got to her in time.

They had been found now, Harry could feel the presences around him and he heard the gasps of some of them as he kept his eyes on Hermione's still face. And then there was movement and large, firm hands were on his arms, easing him up and away from Hermione gently. He obeyed them though his gaze did not leave the girl on the floor. It was only when a finger tilted his head back and to the side slightly that he allowed his eyes to move to the figure of his father to stood to his side and slightly behind him.

"I tried to reach her in time..." Harry whispered as the fingers moved away from his chin and his eyes closed, his head bowing in regret.

An arm came around his shoulders and Harry needed no further invitation before he turned in to his father's body and rested his forehead against the man's chest, just beside the beating heart within. "I know you did." The quiet reply came and served its purpose in reassuring the boy. He had tried his best, he could do no more than that.

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8th May 1993: Evening

Harry sighed heavily as he trudged towards Gryffindor Tower, intent on going to his dorm room and sleeping for the rest of his life. It had been a horrible day. First, poor Hermione was petrified and then another girl, a Penelope Clearwater, was found petrified as well. Two attacks in one day; it was obvious that things were getting increasingly dangerous at Hogwarts.

After Severus was satisfied that Harry was fine, if not a little shaken, he had been sent to Dumbledore's office where he was asked about what exactly it was that he had seen in his vision. However, they had not even got half way through the questions when they were interrupted by someone who Harry recognised not by his face but by his name; Blake Zabini, father of Bethany and Blaise. The man had brought with him a Vote of No Confidence against Dumbledore which had been signed by all the School Governors which had served only to infuriate Harry; Lucius was on the Board of Governors and there was no way he would vote to have Dumbledore replaced, he was too thankful to the elderly wizard for all that he had done for them. Yet Professor Dumbledore went along with it! He took the scroll, did not even look at it and then calmly left with the ex-Death Eater scum that Zabini Senior was.

Harry had remained behind for a few moments, being comforted by Fawkes all the while, before he decided to leave. Then, when he was passing an area close to the front entrance to the school, he had heard the familiar, loud voice of Hagrid. He had gone to investigate only to find that the half giant was being escorted off of the premises and being sent to Azkaban! Azkaban of all places! Why? What could poor Hagrid have possibly done to deserve Azkaban on such short notice, without trial or anything? He had heard the man he recognised as the Minister of Magic saying that Hagrid's record was working against him here which only confused Harry more. Hagrid had a record to work against him? But it was Hagrid! The man would sooner hurt himself than hurt a fly for goodness sake! But the most frustrating part? He had not been able to do anything, not a single thing. All he had been able to do was watch as Hagrid was taken away.

And so Harry was thoroughly depressed and angry as he made his way to bed. The entire situation was so and unfair and unjust! It was at such times that Harry found himself doubting the actions of the Great Lady and Fate. How could all that was happening possibly be for the greater good? What good could possibly come out of all of this? He felt so useless and lost and, although he could not see the benefit in the long run, he kept his faith as strong as he could. There was a plan, it was a good plan and it was a plan which was going to work because if the plans of a Goddess could not work out right, what hope did the rest of them have?

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11th May 1993: Afternoon

"Haryon?"

Harry heard nothing as he continued to stare out of the window he was sitting next to in the classroom he was in with Sephiran. Their lesson was being held in a classroom for once in respect for Dumbledore's absence, or so the High Priest said. It hardly mattered what the reason was though. For Harry, the new surroundings were just a reminder of everything that had happened over the last few days. It was depressing and distracting.

"Haryon!" High Priest Sephiran said again, coming to stand next to his student and resting a hand on the teenager's shoulder.

That snapped Harry out of his stare. He looked up at the Elvish man and blushed in embarrassment. "Oh, erm, sorry High Priest, I was just..."

"Is there anything you would like to talk about, Haryon?"

Harry sighed lightly and lowered his gaze sadly. "High Priest, do you ever wonder if, maybe, the Great Lady's plans work against us?"

"A crisis of faith, Haryon?"

"Oh no, not at all, of course not! It's just, with everything that's happening at the moment...I can't see how it's helping or how it will help us. Professor Dumbledore's been forced to take a leave of absence, poor Hagrid's been taken to Azkaban, so many students have been petrified..."

Sephiran's eyes grew sad and he gazed down at his apprentice. "And you believe there is no hope?"

"Yes...No...I don't know..."

"Haryon, if we were left to live our lives without hardship or strife, how would we ever learn anything? And, when our time comes and we leave this life, how would we be able to appreciate the Great Meadow for the bliss that it is?"

"But everything's going so terribly wrong and, well, no one can keep winning forever. Surely, one day, each of us is destined to lose?"

"Perhaps we are, but we, you and I and every other Havanist in this world, are here to carry out the Great Lady's will and She will make it so we do not fail if only so that Her will is the one which succeeds. Not that that is the only reason. The Great Lady will protect us because She loves us, and we love Her." Sephiran explained patiently. He rested his hand on top of Harry's head in a gesture of comfort. "Even the most faithful of us have had doubts, Haryon; it's hard sometimes to put all your trust and faith into something which you have no stable proof of. But we continue on despite those doubts and, more often than not, something happens which only serves to strengthen our faith and ourselves."

"So, you're saying that I just need to, basically, wait it out?"

"Yes, basically, that is what I'm saying. Our Great Lady is not like the people from your past, Haryon; She will not abandon you." The man told him gently but in a very pointed tone and Harry found himself instantly cheered and in lighter spirit. He remembered then that no matter what happened to him in life, his Goddess would never leave his side.

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26th May 1993: Night

The sound of dripping water. Each drip echoing before fading into silence. Then another drip sounded and the same thing happened. The processed carried on; a continuous cycle.

He stood in a void of darkness as always, not that He could see; His head was bowed and His eyes were closed. There was nothing around Him and the only sound was that of the dripping water. Then, a sliding sound; something which was already slick passing over a damp surface. The drips continued with the sliding sound. It all continued together and throughout the time, He did not lift his head or open his eyes.

The sound of sliding grew louder and He was suddenly aware of a presence nearby. Still His eyes remained shut and he did not move. Slowly, a pressure beginning at his ankles and then curling, twisting upwards surrounded him in a rather comfortable embrace. The sensation of whatever it was on His bare arms was odd: cold; slippery; softness covered by something stiff and protective. And it was a protective hold; not painful but not allowing Him to move in any way or to be taken.

"Not you." A hissing voice whispered somewhere right next to Him. "My target isss the othersss."

His head lifted slowly, almost trance-like. Then, when His head was raised completely, His eyes eased open gradually. Bright green eyes were met with never-ending darkness and, inches away from his face, another pair of eyes; bright yellow snake-like ones. They shined out of the black like they were their own light source, strangely hypnotic and incredibly disturbing. Yet He did not look away, He continued to stare into them with a blank gaze, as though He was already under a spell. And as He gazed into them, they slowly began to turn red, the crimson seeping towards the outside, like a drop of ink on blotting paper.

"My target isss not you." The strange voice hissed around him again once the eyes were completely red. "You are to be protected."

"Why isss thisss?"

"Becaussse you belong to the Heir." The voice answered as the eyes faded away into blackness. The pressure around His body faded into nothingness. He was alone.

The dripping had stopped. Everything was silent.

Harry's eyes flew open in an instant as he woke immediately after his dream had ended. All look of realisation was the dominant expression on his face as his dream suddenly made sense to him somehow; the Heir of Slytherin was Voldemort.
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Family Means More Than Blood