TheFanficGOD
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HP417- Dream
🕑 Added 2025-04-27 23:58:35 +0000 UTCWhen Harry woke up the next day, he figured it’d be business as usual—early training, breakfast, maybe someone trying to push OWL anxiety again. Nothing unusual. But the card in his pocket was vibrating like mad. This was insistent, like it had been going for a while.
He pulled it out and scanned the messages. All from Luna.
One after another. Dozens of them.
Some were half-finished sentences, some were just his name repeated, and one was just a string of symbols that didn’t look like anything from any language.
He was out of bed before fully processing, grabbing the Invisibility Cloak on the way out. He didn’t bother dressing up, just threw a jumper over his shirt, stuffed the card into his sleeve, and moved.
The halls were mostly empty, the castle still wrapped in pre-dawn quiet. Up the seventh corridor, left past the tapestry with the dancing trolls, and then the wall across.
He stepped inside.
Luna was sitting in the far corner, hugging her legs, hair a mess, face pale. She didn’t look like she’d slept. Her robes were still half-unbuttoned at the top, and her socks didn’t match. That wasn’t the issue.
She was shaking.
That was the problem.
Harry shut the door behind him and crossed the room fast. He didn’t say anything—just dropped down beside her.
Luna didn’t wait. The moment he was close, she launched herself into him, arms wrapped around his chest, fingers clutching his jumper like she was anchoring herself.
Then she cried.
No words. No cryptic metaphors. No half-smiles or odd riddles. Just Luna, full-body trembling, sobbing into his shirt like something had cracked.
Harry didn’t speak. He rested one hand on her back and kept it there.
Eventually, the worst of it passed. She was still sniffling, breathing shallow, but the sobs had slowed.
He waited until she moved. She didn’t pull away entirely, just shifted her head so it was leaning against his shoulder instead of buried in his chest.
“I saw them,” she said, voice rough. "I saw you."
Harry looked at her. Luna’s eyes—usually bright, always trailing off to some place no one else saw—were dimmed now, rimmed red, and wide with something he didn’t like. It made his stomach twist.
“What did you see?”
She clutched his jumper tighter, knuckles white. Her voice came out low, scratchy.
“Something called out to me. At first, I thought it was just Blibbering Humdingers being annoying. But it got louder. Not just words—something deeper. I could feel it. Like it was in my bones.” She paused, then looked around the room like she half-expected it to still be watching. “It led me here. The room wasn’t like this when I came. It was already shaped. Waiting.”
Harry didn’t speak. Waited her to continue, only patting her back.
“I stepped inside and... it pulled me in.” Her fingers twisted in the fabric of his jumper. “I didn’t watch. I lived it. There was a war. You were there. So were the others. Everyone. Some were fighting. Some were down. Some didn’t get back up.”
She gripped him harder.
He rested a hand lightly on her back. “Was it Voldemort?”
She shook her head immediately. “No. Not him. Something else. A pair. Man and woman. Magic flowed off them like it belonged to them. They moved through the battlefield like they’d done it a thousand times. They didn’t speak. They didn’t need to.”
Harry frowned slightly. That didn’t sound like any Death Eaters he knew of. “Dark wizards?”
She hesitated. “No. Not like that. They were strong. Too strong. It wasn’t just power—it was like they were death. Magic bowed to them, old and new, like they didn’t ask for it, just used it. They didn’t chant, didn’t gesture much. The battlefield wasn’t even a fight for them. Just… clean-up.”
She paused again. Harry waited.
“There was another woman,” Luna said, voice quieter now, like she wasn’t sure the room was done listening. “Not with them, not with us... She was…”
She took a second, like she was still putting the memory together.
“She moved like she knew what was coming. Not guessing—knew. She dodged spells before they were cast. Hit spots that were about to be open. It wasn’t instinct—it was like she’d already seen it all play out.”
Harry didn’t speak.
Luna kept going, a bit faster. “She looked right at me. Not me on the field. I was on the ground in that vision. I was... But that’s not who she saw. She looked at me. The me watching all of it happen.”
Harry felt the shift in her breathing again. She was pressed in close enough that her heartbeat hit against his ribs, faster now. His own wasn’t far off.
“And there was you,” Luna said, her voice quieter now, but steadier. “Older. Stronger. Not just skilled—you were different. Like magic was listening. Not reacting. Listening.”
Harry didn’t move, just kept his arm around her.
“You weren’t shouting spells,” she went on. “You weren’t even moving that much. It was like… like the magic knew what you wanted and just did it. The air around you bent. “Then Phoenixes came down,” she said. “Dozens. Maybe more. They didn’t screech or burn anything—they flew low and circled, keeping the air clear. They helped the couple—the man and the woman I told you about."
She paused. “And then there was someone else. A man… but with two faces. Like one was peeled back and the other half didn’t belong. He stood with them.”
Harry looked at her, but she wasn’t meeting his eyes anymore. Her gaze had drifted somewhere far off, like the vision was still playing behind her eyelids.
“Wasn’t a disguise,” she added. “The faces were real. Shifted like they shared the same skin.”
Luna let out a soft breath. “You were facing them. And we were behind you. The usual group. Everyone. Daphne, Tracey, Draco, even Fred and George, but older. Stronger. We had these devices on our arms—metal and light and runes. They were casting shields, enhancing us. Some of them were pulsing, like they were charging attacks on their own.”
Harry tilted his head slightly. “Where’d we get them?”
“No clue. Maybe we built them. Maybe someone gave them to us. They weren’t from now. They felt… ahead.”
Luna pulled her knees closer to her chest. “There was an older man with us, too. White hair, young face. Not even someone I recognize. But I knew him. Somehow. Like I’d seen his eyes in a dream before.”
She glanced at Harry then. “He stood next to you. Not in front. Not behind. Just there.”
“And the fight—” Luna looked back down, voice quiet again. “It wasn’t just spells. It was bigger. Like whole parts of the field shifted depending on who cast what. When you raised your hand, the ground moved. When the woman snapped her fingers, entire rows of attackers vanished. It didn’t look like magic as we know it. It looked like… laws being rewritten.”
She shivered once.
“And the worst part? It wasn’t chaos. It was clean. Everyone knew what they were doing. Like this wasn’t the first time.”
Silence stretched for a moment. Harry stayed right where he was. The only sound in the Room was the soft thrum of the walls—magic shifting subtly, waiting for a new purpose.
“What else?” he asked.
Luna hesitated. “There were ruins. Not Hogwarts. Somewhere older. But part of the stones felt familiar. Like the school was built on its bones. Like we’d been there before. Or would be. I don’t know.”
She ran a hand through her hair. “And there were more. Not just us. Whole groups, like factions. Some wore robes. Others had tattoos glowing up their arms. I think we were allied, but just barely.”
She looked up at him. “We had numbers. Creatures—magical ones—all followed you. You led them through the battlefield, sang in their language. Elves, goblins, centaurs, dragons, unicorns… and more.”
Harry didn’t blink. “Sang?”
Luna nodded once. “Not like music. Not loud. It was... spell-speech. Sound wrapped in magic. It shaped the air. The creatures heard it and moved like they understood you.”
Harry leaned his head back against the wall. She smiled, just a little. “You weren’t dramatic. You were fluent.”
She went on. “The goblins marched in full armor. They weren’t behind, they were beside. Same with the centaurs. And the elves—they moved like shadows. Didn’t speak, just followed your gestures.”
She buried her head against his chest again. “It was… it felt real. I… I felt pain, sorrow, hope… I don't know…”
He shifted slightly to keep her balanced, his eyes dropping to the faint shimmer now pulsing from his pocket. Something else was reacting. Not the room—something deeper.
He reached in and pulled out the fragment—the Glimmer.
It lit up like someone had turned a switch. Not glowing exactly, but shining, refracting the low light in a way that made the walls bend ever so slightly.
Luna lifted her head slowly, eyes fixed on the shard. “What is that?”
Harry turned it over in his palm once, watching how the light slipped off it without reflection. “Something powerful. Ancient. Incomplete,” he said. “I don’t know.”
Luna didn’t touch it, just stared like she was listening to something it wasn’t saying. “It’s humming.”
“You can hear it?”
“No.” She blinked. “But I know it is.”
Harry studied the shard for another second, then tucked it back into his pocket. As soon as it disappeared from view, the Room of Requirement adjusted again. A ripple ran along the ceiling, like the magic itself was exhaling.
Luna leaned back, still resting lightly against him. “You think it’s connected to what I saw?”
“No clue,” Harry said. “But it lit up when you talked about that vision.”
They stayed like that for another hour.
Harry didn’t say anything. Just kept his arm around her, fingers gently running through her hair while his other hand occasionally patted her back. Luna didn’t shift or speak—only stayed curled against him, breath evening out bit by bit. Eventually, her grip loosened. Her head lolled slightly against his chest, and her eyes slipped shut.
She was out.
He stayed still for a few minutes more, making sure she didn’t stir. Then he pictured a bed in the corner of the Room. One appeared, simple but solid, soft sheets already tucked in, pillows fluffed.
Carefully, he shifted her weight, slid one arm under her knees and the other behind her back, and lifted her. She didn’t wake. He placed her down on the bed, pulled the blanket up to her chin, and let her be.
He sat on the floor next to the bed, resting his back against the frame, staring up at the ceiling.
"Harry..." Nigel's voice dropped into his head.
Harry didn’t move. “Yeah?”
When Nigel spoke, his voice was more serious than Harry had heard in a long while—more than even when they’d fought after the Horcrux reveal, that mess that cost them a year of silence.
“That vision... I cannot speak much of it, but I... Please take it seriously.”
Harry closed his eyes. “Yeah.”
