Harry was back where he always was. Sitting in the closet in some house Voldemort had dragged him to. These dreams always went the same, flashes of violence and pain and he'd wake up, but something was different this time. Harry's hands were bound together like they usually were. Pulling his bruised and beaten body up, Harry dared to turn the door handle. It opened.
Glancing outside, this wasn't the house he'd been in when Narcissa took care of him. He thought he recognized this place, but it was hard to say. Keeping his eyes open, he walked around the bottom floor, checking corners before he walked around them. This was weird. Normally, the dreams ended much quicker then this. Nothing was happening downstairs, so perhaps what he was looking for was upstairs.
Taking to the stairs he wandered up, heading down the hall he felt Voldemort might be lerking. Why would he want to go to him? He should have run for the front door and taken control of this dream, but they never worked like that. Harry realized he was much stupider in his dreams then in real life. Sometimes.
He could hear Voldemort's laughter and he froze in place, grabbing for a wand that wasn't there. At least some parts of this dream were the same. His head started to kill him, blinding him with pain. He went to crumble, but a hand grabbed his shirt, lifting him back up. "This is an interesting turn of events," Voldemort hissed, moving to the railing of the stairs. "See, THIS is when Occlumency would come in handy, Potter." Shoving the boy, Harry fell and was surprised when it was into the grass.
They were in the graveyard and Cedric was laying right beside him. Crawling away, Harry looked around, thinking he was alone again. Closing his eyes, he tried his best to concentrate, pushing Voldemort out of his mind, but the laughter of the Dark Lord broke him from it.
"You're scared. You should be scared. It seems you and I still share something and I thought it was lost.."
"I'm not scared of you!"
"YOU LIAR!" Voldemort shoved Harry into the statue of his father's grave, hand closing around Harry's neck. "The thought of facing me again, keeps playing in your head and all you think about is failure. What will happen when I corner you once more. You will not walk away. You're little friends will carry you out in a body bag. And that's if they can walk themselves!"
"You don't know anything! The future is just as dark to you as it is to me. Our Prophecy still hasn't been filled yet. We're both alive and that won't be for long."
Voldemort's grin always sent a shiver through Harry. And once more he tried his best to push him out of his mind. "Are you really going to give me a good verses evil speach boy?"
Harry dared to open his eyes and found they were no longer in the graveyard. They were in another house and Voldemort was gone. This house was brightly lit, the tellie feeding the news to the family that lived here. A younger couple perhaps with a small child. It wa sso warm and pleasent here. But Harry knew this place. Maybe not from being here, but from memories.
"James! Would you like me to start dinner? I just put Harry down for the night." Harry's whole body grew stiff, his stomach twisting. Turning around, Harry glanced into the kitchen, seeing his mother, looking around in the fridge. She was beautiful and happy and Harry had a sinking feeling he knew what memory this was.
"Stop it.." he said, knowing that Voldemort could hear him. But Harry receievd no reply.
"Whatever you want to do Lily," his father said, coming up behind her. "I could eat if you're making something. Harry go down all right?"
"He was a little restless. He hates being away from us," Lily smiled, turning around in her husbands arms. They were just about to kiss, when a small alarm signaled in the house. "Who would be coming now? We didn't get an owl from the Order.."
James frowned and walked out of the kitchen past Harry, whom he didn't even give a glance to. Making his way to the window, he glanced out, seeing a cloaked figure standing on their front lawn. "Lily, go and get Harry and get out of here. They've found us."
"What?! How? Oh God, James do you think they killed Peter?"
"Lily! GO! We don't have much time!" Lily ran up the stairs of the house, Harry running to stand beside his father.
"STOP!" Harry yelled, knowing that it wouldn't. "You can wake up, you ca fight him. COME ON HARRY WAKE UP!" The front door blasted open and Harry watched his father be consumed by the green light of Voldemort's attack. "STOP IT!"
"It's good to be home, isn't it Potter?" he laughed, making his way up the stairs, following Lily Potter's screams.
"No! MOM!" Harry yelled, but he couldn't follow Voldemort up the stairs. He heard his mother begging and crying.
"HARRY!" she screeched, her voice echoing in his mind.
"NO!" Harry screamed sitting up in his bed, the tears pouring down his cheeks. He was ten shades of white, body shaking. He felt like he wanted to be sick, but he pushe the feeling down. It took everything to convince himself that he was all right, but the fact of the matter was just the oppisite. Voldemort still shared his connection with Harry, just like old times. Resting his head on his knees, Harry didn't dare close his eyes to sleep. Not tonight.