Chapter Two

AN: If you have not read "It's always the quiet ones" by PixelWriter1, do yourself a favor and stop what you are doing and go read it. It is a one shot, 8400 words. Definitely worth your time, imo.

Haven't said this in a while, but it is true whether I state it or not.
I do not own any of these characters or any portion of any intellectual property previously claimed by its creator.
I'm just a guy with a computer who writes stuff now and then.

I make no money from this, nor do I intend to ever monetize this work.
At best, I use this to refine my writing skills. As poor as they are, I should practice a LOT more…
But that pesky "I'm not making money from this" does tend to intrude in my reality.

By the way, the entry numbers will skip about a bit, because… reasons. *smile*

+++++ DDJ +++++

Entry 11

Dear Dream Journal,

Yeah, still feels weird talking to a book. At least you don't write back. I bet no one in Hogwarts will ever make that mistake again. Since everyone involved was sworn to secrecy, the story was all over the castle by lunch the next day. I never said anything. And that oath was pretty heavy duty. I have to wonder if one of the professors fed the rumor mill for whatever reason.

Anyway, this is not supposed to talk about passed reality, but my dreams.

So here goes.

Last night I dreamed of Voldemort. Yeah, no surprise there. He has been trying to kill me practically since I was born. That kind of dedication should be noticed by your target. Well, not really. If he were competent, I would have died before I knew I was in danger. Right? Instead, I have years of abuse with the Dursleys, followed by several years of Him trying to kill me. I mean, really? I was a toddler! Then I was a preteen. Then a tween. (That's what Lavender called our age group) Then an official teenager. Near-death after near-death after near death. If I were Voldemort, I would assume some God was protecting me and stop trying to kill me. Seriously. In fact, I would move to the other side of the planet and take up some quiet hobby that would keep me busy until my target died of natural causes. Diety level interference can never be a good thing and should be avoided at all costs!

Which strangely enough, leads to my dream.

There was a long, wide hallway leading to a door. The walls of the hallway were covered in carved figures. Some were obviously geometrical. Some seemed geometrical, but with bits missing, or maybe added. It was hard to concentrate on those carvings. Carved at floor level to about my waist were images of men (well, humanoid. Some didn't look quite human…), many with staves, but all with some sort of tool I assume were foci. Interestingly, not a single wand in the group. And every figure was facing the door at the end of the hall.

In front of that door stood Voldemort. His back was to me, facing the door.

In his right hand he held a sword which bathed the door with a sickly yellow-green light. (I asked Parvati and she told me that color is called 'chartreuse'. What the hell? Yellow-green is not descriptive enough?) Rune-like etchings moved up the blade to disappear into the light. There was something disturbing about the way the runes moved, but I can't remember what.

In his left hand he held a staff, butt on the floor, leaning away from him like the first line of a 'W', with a harsh blue-white light. (No, I didn't ask Parvati or Lavender what color word is blue-white. I learned my lesson with 'chartreuse'!) The light didn't come from a jewel at the top as I would expect. Nope, it seemed to crawl from Voldie's hand, bathing the staff in light, before the light flowed to the floor, across to the door and then seemed to crawl around the edge of the door. It looked like the light was trying to seal the door.

And the door. Wow. I don't know how to describe it.

It looked like an ordinary door. Wood, maybe oak? Thick, but not impressively so. And it didn't do anything. At least, not when you looked at it. When I looked away from the door for any reason, to look at Voldy's weapons, or the carvings, or Voldy himself, I got the impression the door moved.

But, when I looked back, the door was always there, exactly as it was. Always exactly as it was. So exactly, it was creepy.

Then again, it was a dream. Dreams are allowed to be creepy, right? You're a dream journal. You should know. Oh, and if you are capable of responding to me, DON'T!

I have enough weird crap in my life. I don't need you adding to it.

Anyway, back to the dream.

I don't know how long I stood there watching. It seemed like years, a lot of years.

Suddenly, I was aware Voldy was looking over his shoulder at me… and he was smiling.

He said, "Oh, praise the gods! I don't know how much longer I can hold the door. A few more decades at most."

"Leave this place and live your life. Train. Learn. Ignore the idiots who categorize Magic as 'dark' or 'light'. They have no idea the darkness that surrounds us."

I noticed the door starting to bulge toward us, like a balloon. I nodded toward it without saying anything.

Voldemort turned his face toward the door and let loose a string of vulgarity I had never heard before. Interwoven were words of magic and they pushed the door flat again.

Voldemort's arms shook from the strain. Without turning his face from the door, he continued.

"Constant Vigilance. Moody… HA! Amateur! He has no idea what Constant Vigilance means. But I do and you will. Soon. Enjoy life while you can Harry. This is your destiny. Be sure to…"

And then I woke up.

Luna was shaking me awake in the common room.

She said, "It is not time for you to know these things. When it is time, I will help you."

And she smiled at me, kinda sad like. She kissed me on the forehead, brushed back the hair from my scar...

And then I woke up.

I hate waking up inside a dream. When you wake up for real, you always wonder if you are really awake yet, or if this is just another layer to the dream.

For all I know, this entire entry is part of that same dream…