Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Awakening To the Dream	By : ChimaeraChan Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 45316 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-CH1
- 2-CH2
- 3-CH3
- 4-CH4
- 5-CH5
- 6-CH6
- 7-CH7
- 8-Ch8
- 9-Ch9
- 10-Ch10
- 11-CH11
- 12-CH12
- 13-CH13
- 14-CH14
- 15-CH15
- 16-CH16
- 17-CH17
- 18-CH18
- 19-Ch19
- 20-CH20
- 21-CH21
- 22-Ch22
- 23-CH23
- 24-CH24
- 25-CH25
- 26-CH26
- 27-CH27
- 28-CH28
- 29-CH29
- 30-CH30
- 31-CH31
- 32-CH32
- 33-CH33
- 34-CH34
- 35-CH35
- 36-CH36
- 37-CH37
- 38-CH38
- 39-CH39
- 40-CH40
- 41-Ch41
- 42-Ch42
- 43-Ch43
- 44-Ch44
- 45-Ch45
- 46-Ch46
- 47-Ch47
- 48-Ch48
- 49-Ch49
- 50-Ch50 *End Part 1*
- 51-Ch51
- 52-Ch52
- 53-Ch53
- 54-Ch54
- 55-Ch55
- 56-CH56
- 57-CH57
- 58-CH58
- 59-CH59
- 60-CH60
- 61-CH61
- 62-CH62
- 63-CH63
- 64-CH64
- 65-CH65
- 66-CH66
- 67-CH67 *New 6/6/2015*
- 68-CH68
- 69-CH69
- 7
- 8
- 9
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

CH8

Light was shining in the darkness, barely illuminating the surroundings in a soft glow of moonlight. When he turned he could see the moon, a bright sliver slicing the night sky. He turned away; someone was waiting for him.
Slowly he walked, ancient trees immense sentries beside him, lining the unseen path. He couldn’t discern how deep the forest went or anything past a few feet before him but he never slowed. Hours past, or mere moments: time was lost here. There was no focus but the small light leading him onward and swallowed by the darkness directly behind him. He never looked back, never strayed from the light. The sound of running water began to echo in the darkness, growing louder with each step.
Suddenly the forest broke forth into a large pool surrounded by a protective wall of mountain and trees. A waterfall towered to the right, motionless, but the memory of it crashing resonated loudly in the valley. A single beam of light shone on the still lake, drawing him forward and away from the protective trees. He scrambled over the slick rocks and slowly made his way until he was standing before the glimmer of moonlight. This was the spot… He looked around before sinking down onto the large rock cross-legged. He would wait.

*******

Harry blinked groggily; his limbs felt impossibly heavy but at least the pain was gone. He wasn’t quite sure where he was. The last he could remember he had been taken by the Death Eaters, but as he looked about now he knew he wasn’t in the dungeon he had been portkeyed to. The dusty smell and the sounds coming from outside the window reminded him fleetingly of Privet Dr. He blinked as a familiar empty cage floated into focus.
So he was back… and not under the stairs.
He struggled to sit up, his elbows sinking into the softness of his bed and making it impossible for his feeble muscles to move him. Grunting, he rolled and ended up falling to the floor with a dull thump and a small cloud of dust. Well, he was unquestionably alive. He smiled wryly down at his palm that had been scraped raw from the floor. Shimming, he pried open the floorboards hiding his small array of treasures. He had eaten the sweets ages ago but that wasn’t what he was intent on. Digging past the books and knickknacks he pulled out the album Sirius had left for him. He didn’t open it, just held it close and curled up into a ball on the floor. Moments later he was fast asleep again.
The daylight faded and night passed by undisturbed while Harry slept soundlessly. He finally awoke late the next morning, a persistent tapping on his window pulling him from his dreamless slumber. He jumped up and tripped over the foot of his bed with a small cry. Dismissing the strange placement of his bed and the shooting pain in his knee, he stumbled to the window and threw it open. An unfamiliar owl flew in, circled, and dropped a letter onto his bed before landing onto Hedwig’s perch. The owl hooted balefully at him after noticing the lack of food and water.
“Er… sorry.” He whispered hollowly. He had been hoping it was Hedwig but this owl was light brown and looked a little ruffled. With any luck she was somewhere safe. He limped over to the bureau that was now suspiciously unbroken and clear of junk and pulled out the box of owl treats he kept there. He fed the bird the few that were left while eyeing the letter resting on his bed. “That is one big bed.” He murmured thoughtfully. Without warning he leaped onto the bed and bounced with a small whoop.
He gave a heartfelt sigh and stared up at the ceiling. Had anything changed while he was out? He didn’t feel the niggling fear he usually felt in the morning, no sign of Vernon stomping around looking to beat on him. The Order had been here, Moody had left the crest on the foot of the bed and his wounds were gone. They must have saved him after all… how unexpected. He groaned and let himself sink into the softness of the bed. This bed was really brilliant.
He felt so horribly lost.
Deep in thought he gave a small jump when a brisk knock came from the door. “It’s Aunt Petunia’s knock,” he whispered to himself, his heart pounding reflexively.
“Boy, are you awake yet?” When she didn’t receive an answer Aunt Petunia quietly opened the door. Harry was surprised to hear no locks being opened. She froze in the door, not expecting him to be awake. “You’re up.” She stated blankly.
Harry nodded, eyeing the tray that was giving off an appealing smell.
Petunia followed his gaze down to the plate of sandwiches, soup and orange juice. “Eat what you can, I’m sure your stomach will be a little cramped.” She placed the tray on a nightstand that Harry had never seen before. She went to leave but stopped in the doorway looking so horribly awkward Harry almost wanted to say something to relieve the tension. Almost. “If you need anything just ask Dudley. I’m off… I’ve, I’ve gotten a job. The number is on the fridge if you need to reach me. Please, don’t leave the house. You’ll be safe here now…” She paused as if to say something more but she never found the words. Turning, she left as quietly as she had come.
“Wiggy,” Harry muttered, sitting up and grabbing the crumpled letter from under his back. The envelope was pretty thick, there had to be at least two full sheets in it. He left it beside the tray and went to check the door. It was unlocked. Relieved, he settled back on the bed and took a sip of juice. He hardly gagged. Promising. He pulled the tray of food into his lap and sniffed cautiously at the soup. It seemed mild enough, only chicken with some small star shaped noodles. He slurped a few spoonfuls, letting the soup warm him. Actually… he looked around in surprise. The AC wasn’t running…
“Here, if you’re hungry you can have some.” Harry motioned to the untouched sandwiches. The owl swooped down and went straight for the juice, apparently quite parched. Feeling restless, Harry stood and moved back to the door and into the hall. It was practically warm. Down the stairs he found Dudley sitting in front of the TV eating. “So you are alive.” Harry walked to the couch and plopped down. A momentary wave of dizziness swept over him causing him to miss Dudley surprised squeak.
“Isn’t that a little gory for this time of day?” On the TV there was some sort of slimy, poorly made alien attacking a beautiful blonde girl, who was possibly the female lead, except she was shrieking so much it was amazing she could fire off the huge ass gun in her hand. Reminded him a lot of Malfoy actually and their deadly stroll through the Forbidden Forest their first year… screechy little git.
“Er… So you’re feeling ok?” Dudley asked, staring openly at Harry. He looked better than he had in a while, still really thin but healthier anyways… “You should change, you know. You’re covered in dirt, and blood ‘n stuff.”
Harry nodded absentmindedly. “What happened?” He turned from the TV to meet Dudley’s stare. “How did I get back here?”
“Oh, uh… well I, uh, Igotthemforyou.” Dudley stammered, going bright red. “I went to Ms. Figgs and there was this weird looking cat and a hole and then this big room— They threw a net on me! But, uh, they went and saved you and brought me home after all of these odd looking people asked me all these questions. One of the girls had bright pink hair. It was kinda cool.”
Harry just gaped at his cousin. He had… had he…? Harry burst out laughing, nearly falling off the couch. Dudley watched in confusion, a bewildered grin twisting his mouth. “No, I’m not— not laughing at you.” Harry gasped out. “It’s just… it’s just so bloody wrong!” He clamped his hand over his mouth when a rather noisy cackle broke out. “Gods this is so messed up.” He chuckled lowly, sinking into the couch and staring blankly at the ceiling.
“… Want some pie?”
“Uh, that’s alright.” Harry had to fight back the compelling urge to laugh again. Dudley offering him comfort food, gods. The situation was so bizarre it was comical. He sat there lazily, just enjoying the drone of the TV, when his eyes fell upon the silent air conditioner by the window. “So… where’s Vernon?’
Dudley immediately paled at the quiet words. “I don’t know… I think— I think he’s in jail.”
“Oh.” Harry fell silent and turned his head back to the television, eyes closed.
Dudley went back to his pie but found it wasn’t as good as he had thought a moment ago.
The doorbell peeled loudly in the house. Harry tensed, grabbing his wand that he had left in his pocket and slipping silently from the couch.
“No, it’s ok!” Dudley gasped, jumping up from his chair and stepping in front of Harry. “It’s for me… I asked them to come here.”
Harry eyed the door suspiciously. “No one is allowed in here. I don’t care how nice, how pretty, how wealthy. No one gets in. Understand?”
Dudley nodded, quickly replying. “I’ll go out to talk. I won’t let anyone in.”
“…Alright. I’ll be right here, just in case.”
Dudley walked to the door, oddly shaken. His cousin was frightening like this… or maybe it was the stark reminder of what really could be out there. Suddenly fearful, Dudley looked through the curtains before opening the door. As he had thought, it was only Piers.
Harry watched from the doorway. Dudley’s bulk blocked his view of what was happening but he was still prepared in case there was a problem. He only relaxed once Dudley had closed and locked the door behind him.
“Everything alright?” Harry asked, tousling his dark hair to new levels of haystack. Damn, he needed a shower.
“Here, I asked the gang to get these for me.” Harry looked down to find Dudley holding his glasses in his beefy palm.
Harry gawked dumbfounded. “Shit Dudley, thanks.” He plucked up the glasses… funny how a crooked set of frames could bring everything into focus. “Thanks, really. I was worried I wouldn’t get another pair till school started.”
“It’s fine, I’m glad they aren’t broken.” Dudley shuffled back to his chair and the television, escaping the embarrassment of it all.
“I’m going to go take a shower.” Harry called from the stairs, sounding happier than he had in months. “Thanks again Dudley, really. For everything.”
Dudley nodded distractedly from in front of the television and ate another piece of pie.

*******

The rags he had worn for the last five weeks lay dejected in a pile of dirt and dried blood on Aunt Petunia’s flawless bathroom floor. They really should be destroyed… incinerated… ionized. Merlin only knew what kind of filth he had picked up from Voldemort’s dungeon retreat. Harry poked them with his toe, scrunching up his nose unhappily. He’d have to find something else; hopefully his old clothes were still in his trunk. Vernon had thrown out all the clothes in the upstairs bedroom in one of his ‘freaks don’t deserve good clothing’ fits. Not that those clothes could have been considered good quality…
Carefully, he tested the water for the perfect temperature before stepping under the spray. He shuddered as the hot streams of water went to work on his stiff muscles, washing away ages of pain and grime. Heaven, he had died and this was heaven. Long moments passed as he stood there, letting all his thoughts and cares drain away with the water. He grabbed the shampoo and lathered it on until he was more bubbles than boy. He must have gone through five bars of soap before he was finally satisfied. He scrubbed his skin sore, determined to rid himself of every layer of filth that magically appeared after one was removed. They peeled off like days, like bleeding memories, until he was raw and red and reborn again in the steam.
Making sure the porcelain was clean; he plugged the drain and let the tub fill. He settled into the heat, his bony knees poking above the surface of the water. He could hear birds chirping from outside the closed window; somehow he could sense the summer time only a few feet away. The steady drip of water was oddly comforting in the silence of the bathroom as he leaned back against the edge of the tub. Silence, pure silence, was not welcome right now. Somehow the voices had quieted while he slept and it disturbed him more than when they had been screaming.
What was happening to him?
There was something inside of him, he was sure of it now. It had almost broken free that night when he had been so close to the end. He wasn’t dying anymore… had it been death waiting for him to fall? But it had felt right, like him… if that made any sense. He frowned down at the stray bubbles in the water, poking one with his finger. He felt like he was missing something, as if he had grasped some great, life defining epiphany and had lost it somehow with the new dawn. What had it been?
He searched his memory futilely for some sort of clue. It had to do with the voices… and, and his soul? His power? And someone else… someone else had been there besides the voices that night! Why had they grown silent now when his mind was more lucid? He splashed the water in frustration, stubbing his toe and only increasing his foul mood. He wasn’t going insane; they were real! Something was changing in him, had changed… all he had to do was remember!
That sensation of being lost was overpowering.
He pulled himself from the tub. A feeling of restlessness had settled over him and he had to move, do something. His thoughts were only stirring him wild and that could only lead to trouble. He had already caught Tom in his mind at least three times when he was out of it; he needed to stay in control. Too many people depended on the secrets he knew.
A towel wrapped securely around him, he went out in search of some clothes. His trunk hadn’t been in the bedroom upstairs so the logical place was the cupboard. Padding down the stairs he stopped at the large padlock that had been installed that summer. In a sudden fit he wrenched it from the door and heaved it out the open kitchen window. “Son of a bitch!” He growled into the empty cupboard. It was exactly how he had left it the last time Vernon had woken him. Even the stain of blood on the sidewall was still there.
“What’s with you?” Dudley called, half turning from his view of the television.
“My trunk, where is it?” Harry asked with a false calm. He had a growing dread that his trunk had ended up the same way his clothes had gone, the dumpster. Dudley’s expression wasn’t helping him much either.
“Oh, well… that.”
“He didn’t, please tell me he didn’t.” Harry whimpered. His life was in that trunk; at least, anything that mattered to him was.
“Er… I think Mum saved it back here.” Dudley waddled past him into the kitchen and out the backdoor.
Harry watched anxiously from the window as Dudley cleared away brush and dirt from something hidden in the woods by the house. When he realized it was his trunk he ran out, towel and all, and helped his cousin drag it into the house. He’d clean up the dirt tracks later; it was the least he could do to thank Aunt Petunia for saving his trunk. Hell, he’d even say thank you; it was worth it.
“Uh, he did that.” Dudley whispered, pointing to the crushed lock. Vernon had tried to smash it open but had only succeeded in warping the lock permanently shut.
Harry walked around the trunk, playing possible solutions in his head. Magic wasn’t available. Not that he gave a shit what the Ministry would do, but he was weak, and wanted to wait until his magical stores were restored. “I’ve got an idea.” He scrambled to the garage and pulled apart some boxes, grabbing a hammer and screwdriver. A few good hits and he had the hinges off and was able to open the trunk from behind, the lock holding the cover on from the front. Harry peered glumly inside. All his stuff was strewn about in a huge mess as if the trunk had been rolled a few hundred times. “What did he do to it?”
“It was heavy, so after he couldn’t get the lock off he tried to throw the trunk onto the lock, and it fell down the stairs and—”
“I get the picture.” Harry grumbled. He pulled out the first muggle shirt and pants he could find. Thank the gods he had remembered to wash everything down to his underwear before he had left Hogwarts… well the house elves had anyways. Thank Dobby. “I’m going to change and then get this mess all sorted out.” He scuttled up the stairs, fighting off another wave of dizziness. Maybe he should take it easy for a bit. A couple days of sleep wasn’t going to make everything all better. Actually… how long had he been asleep?
“Hey, how long has it been since I was captured?” Harry asked, now dressed and feeling cleaner than he had in ages. “Do you know what happened to me?”
“Um, you were taken last Friday. It’s Wednesday today.” Dudley eyed him curiously. “They said you hit your head but you were all healed when they brought you in. Well, except that thing on your chest.” He pointed vaguely.
“Thing?” Harry stretched the neck on his oversized shirt to get a good look. There was something there; a strange, purplish pattern that looked a lot like teeth marks. “What the hell is it?”
“Vampire?” Dudley offered helpfully.
Brows furrowed, Harry shook his head. “Vampires don’t… gnaw. It does look kind of human.” He shrugged, letting his shirt settle back. Maybe Voldemort had bit him; he wouldn’t put it past the freak. “Not to be a bother, but could you help me drag my trunk over here? I’m all kinds of dizzy right now.”
Dudley sighed, pulling himself from his chair. Together they got Harry’s trunk into the living room. Harry sunk to the carpet and began to pull his items out of his trunk while Dudley went back to the TV. He piled all his clothes up and made another pile for all his school things. A lot of books had been injured and torn, pages ripped out and crumpled. The books had crushed his spare parchment beyond repair, and a half a bottle of ink had shattered and covered everything in splotches of green, but surprisingly the Maurauders Map hadn’t sustained any injury. He quickly dug out his invisibility cloak, grateful to see that the ink hadn’t gotten to it. He examined it closely, looking for rips. Not even a loose thread. Relieved, Harry placed it with the map in another pile, where he put anything else that had to do with his parents and their friends. He paused when he came to a large black book stained with blood. It had been taken from the Black’s family library; Sirius had saved it for him. He placed it aside and drew out two more, a heavy maroon one and a smaller but thick powder blue book. The outer layer of his bound school notes had a few splatters of ink but the insides were safe.
Looking up he found Dudley eyeing his potion scales and the dragon talon Hagrid had given to him last Christmas. “Here, have a chocolate frog.” Harry tossed him one of the packets he had dug out of his trunk. Dudley watched suspiciously as Harry’s frog gave a leap before Harry caught it and stuffed it in his mouth. “It’s not alive, just squirms for a bit.” Harry smirked between mouthfuls of chocolate. “Go on, it doesn’t bite.” Hesitating, Dudley tore into the package. He gave a weak yelp when it jumped from his hand and onto his chair. “Catch it before it gets chocolate all over.” Harry laughed. Realizing jumping food was safer than his mother’s wrath, Dudley leaped after the frog, catching it right before it hit the ground.
“Wicked.” Dudley smirked at the mess of chocolate squished in his palms. The legs were still twitching. Understanding it was actually chocolate, he scarfed it down. “Have anymore of these? I could totally freak the gang out with it.” Harry tossed him another one and went back to wrestling his jumper out that had gotten tangled up with his cauldron and a ball of unbreakable twine. “Shit!” The sleeve gave a loud cry and ripped, splitting at the seams.
“You alright?”
“No,” Harry sighed. “Nothing is alright. It should be, but it’s not, and I can’t figure out why.” He crawled onto the couch and lied down. “Bloody dizzy… and too quiet.”
Much to Harry’s amusement Dudley turned the TV up. He stretched over the side to grab the maroon book and propped it open on his stomach; ‘Occlumency; the Art of Protecting the Mind and Strengthening the Will.’ It was ancient and most definitely expensive. Snape had given it too him. He had delivered the other two that Sirius and Remus had given him as well. Sirius would have given him the book on alternative forms of magic for Harry’s birthday but he was gone now. With Remus half insane with grief at their parting, he hadn’t gotten around to giving him the book on muggle and wizarding self-defense. So it had been Snape. He didn’t know how he felt about it. Snape could hardly be a father figure like Remus was to him, or leave him with the wonderful, protective warmth that Sirius had. Now that he looked back on him, though, Snape wasn’t really that bad. Er, he was horrible but… well, hmmmm. It was a really helpful book anyways and a very thoughtful gesture. The three books had secured his sanity over the summer and he was grateful, even if it had been a gift from Voldemort himself.
He flipped through the pages and stopped at the chapter on mental traps. A nice surprise for his unwelcome mental visitor was just the thing to cheer him up.

*******

“I’ve got them Aunt Petunia.” Harry scooped the dishes from the table before Petunia could. Petunia sighed, too tired to argue. She knew doing dishes was hardly considered slave labor but a part of her cringed every time Harry offered to help. She’d barely been in the door when she had found him sweeping up in the kitchen and straightening up the living room. At least he had been able to salvage his trunk. She remembered how desperate Lily had been to keep her trunk safe… it was probably still hidden at their childhood home; no one had been in there since their parents’ murder. “Dudley, you’ll help dry before you go out tonight. I need you to pull your weight now; you’re the man of the house.” Dudley beamed at the compliment and went to help Harry.
He was a good boy. Sure, he got into trouble, but he really was a good boy. She was concerned about his weight. The doctor’s warnings had been very specific. Vernon dismissed it, he always did when they didn’t tell him what he wanted to hear, but now that she took a good look at him, she was worried for her Dudley. It was too much; how long could his heart hold out like this?
“Dudley dear. What would you think of joining a gym? I hear the one by ‘Goodlights’ even has a pool.” Aunt Petunia called from the living room.
“Oh… if you want me to, Mum.” Dudley shrugged, face scrunched in distaste. “I guess it can help me train for the team this year.”
“I think it’s more so your arties won’t clog while you’re standing here.” Harry snickered.
Dudley blinked. “…Shut up. At least I have some muscle, skinny. You’re the one who needs to get to a gym.”
Harry frowned down at where Dudley had poked him in the center of his chest. “I can’t leave the house.” He brushed Dudley’s hand aside. “Thin is in, Dudley. Besides, I can still run faster than you.” Smirking, he handed his cousin another dish to dry.
“Just wait, in a couple of weeks I’ll be able to run you down without breaking a sweat.” Dudley growled heartily.
“Instead of having your friends do it for you? Piers will be out of a job.” Harry dried his hands on the dishtowel and turned to Dudley who was looking thoughtful… as thoughtful as Dudley could, anyways.
“…I guess I’ll have to let him. Can’t let Piers down like that.” Dudley smiled viciously. “Going after these brats tonight. They’re trying to take over our turf; gonna teach’m good.” He smacked his fists in his hand with his eyes alight with glee.
Harry rolled his eyes. “Good luck with that. I’ll be sleeping, so keep your bloodlust outside the house.” Poor kids didn’t know what they were in for. “Hey,” he turned suddenly. “Stay away from the park, okay? It’s most likely being watched. Those guys will kill you if they think you have anything to do with me.”
Dudley nodded, some of his enthusiasm lost. “…Why are they… why you?” Dudley stuttered out. “Why are they going after you? What’s the big deal?”
Harry sighed. “Don’t worry about it; it’s not your problem. Go enjoy beating up the neighborhood kids and shit.” Harry grabbed a glass of juice and made his way to the stairs, ignoring the confused look Dudley was shooting him. The first rule of survival was to keep your head down. Dudley was unable to understand that, and Harry wasn’t about to give his cousin information that people would torture him for. The less details his cousin knew, the safer it was for all of them at this point.
“Are you going to bed?”
“I was planning on it.” He paused at the stairs. “Did you need something Aunt Petunia?”
“No…” She studied her hands intently. “Are you feeling better? You barely ate anything.”
“Uh, well I wasn’t that hungry. I’m better though… not perfect yet, but definitely better.”
Petunia nodded distractedly. With a small sigh she got to the point. “A letter came yesterday, addressed to me from a friend of yours, a Mr. Arthur Weasley. I think it would be best if you read it… I don’t think I can explain it to you well.”
“Oh.” Harry frowned, not sure what to think. He walked over to the desk where Aunt Petunia kept the mail and peered curiously down at the odd looking envelope. He smiled, only the Weasleys would try to mail a letter covered with fifty or so stamps. But what would they have to say to Aunt Petunia… and why would she want him to read it? An odd feeling of dread settled somewhere in his stomach as he unfolded the letter. It was fairly short, the penmanship hurried and scratchy but distinctly Mr. Weasley’s.
Mrs. Petunia Dursley,
I’m sorry to inform that we are in the midst of a family crisis and have come to the conclusion that our home is not safe for Harry at the moment. We had planned on keeping him up at the Burrow for the last few weeks of summer but it’s impossible at the moment. Given the powerful wards in your house, you have nothing to fear and I’m sure that Harry is in the safest possible place with the exception of Hogwarts. Please, do not let Harry out of the house for any reason. The Death Eaters know his neighborhood but they can’t get to the house. I know Harry is a strong willed young man who wishes to have his freedom, but you must enforce this. I stress, he will be in extreme danger if he leaves the house!
I can’t give you any specifics of when and how Harry will arrive to school this year but we will take care of it. Let Harry know this or he’ll run off to Hogwarts on his own. Again, do not let Harry out of the house for any reason.

Sincerely,

Arthur Weasley
Harry folded the letter back up and left it on the desk. His near death experience had humbled him a bit. He wouldn’t be running outside unless he was at a hundred percent health… or Vernon returned. He didn’t want to think about what ‘family crisis’ could mean; hopefully everyone was all right. They would have told him if anyone was dead or injured… right? Maybe something huge had happened and they were afraid he’d break down over it. He bit his lip. ‘Course now he was worrying like mad and if could be something as simple as the twins accidentally blowing up the Burrow.
He gave a quick wave of thanks to Aunt Petunia, who had turned her attention back to the news, and hurried up the stairs. Bursting into his room, he dived for the letter he had left on the nightstand. There was no return address. He yelped as a pair of wings rustled by his ear. “Shit… Pig!” He scampered after the hyperactive owl, finally catching him long enough to remove the small note tied to his leg. He unrolled it and scanned Ron’s scrawl.
Harry,
They got Fred and George! You have to be really careful; you can’t go out at all. Dad said he was going to send something to your Aunt but I know you wouldn’t listen to your relatives. Listen, Voldemort has a new ally; they’re called the Domin. There’s a little blurb in last years DADA book but it doesn’t really tell you a lot. They’re powerful and they’re smart. Stay out of the dark ‘cause that’s where they hide. Dad says the Patronus may scare them but I think he’s just trying to stop us from feeling helpless. I’ve gotta go, Mom’s crying again. Bill and Charlie came home to help us look. Percy is even back. Hope everything is good with you. Hermione owled me last week, she’s up in Switzerland checking out horn-tailed tree eating something or others. I seriously have to go; I’ll try to owl you later if anything turns up.
Ron
Harry dropped heavily on the bed, his mind racing. George and Fred had been captured, possibly dead… He stared blankly at the note as fears and hopes circled endlessly around his head.
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Awakening To the Dream