Chapter 12 - Ravenclaw Match

                                        

                                              
The Ravenclaw Match
                              
He was positive everyone woke up. Neville was standing up by his bed and Dean and Seamus watched from their beds. Ron had jumped out of his bed and was kneeling next to him. Harry was shaking. He sat up and leaned against his bed. He started massaging his temple trying to relieve the pain.
                              
"Harry, are y-you alright? W-What hap-happened?" Ron stuttered. 
                              
"Just a dream. Sorry, I woke you," Harry responded, still shaking and he put his arm down. 
                              
He got up slowly, refusing Ron's help and desperately trying to avoid his eyes. 
                              
"I'm going to walk it off. I want to be alone," he said, firmly. 
                              
He left from the room without waiting for a comment. Fortunately, for him, Ron did not follow. He went down a sat on a squishy chair by the dying fire. He was trembling still and taking in panicked breaths, but it was not from the dream or his scar. He was afraid. Voldemort could not find out about the prophecy. It was the only defense Harry had against him, and this was the second time Voldemort had broken into his dreams. Was he in any other dreams? Could he risk going back to sleep?
                              
No, I can't go back to sleep. What if I can't wake up in time? he thought. Well, I can't stay awake forever. I just have to be careful. Yes... careful... careful....
                              
It took him awhile to calm down. He kept repeating careful in his head. Finally, after about an hour, his mind shot to another question, what are am I going to tell Ron and Hermione? 
                              
Harry did have a brilliant cover 온라인카지노게임. Losing Sirius was a dream he had all the time, but it was a hard tossup which topic he least wanted to talk about, Sirius or the prophecy. He might be able to avoid their questions about Sirius and talking about the prophecy is worst of the two. By his reckoning, they would take the prophecy worse than he did. After all, he is the one who needs to learn how to kill someone. He dosed in and out of consciousness until morning, but he kept snapping awake in paranoia. Sunlight had filled the room, when Hermione came down followed by Crookshanks. 
                              
"What are you doing up already, Harry?" she asked, watching him apprehensively. 
                              
"Couldn't sleep. Want to get some breakfast, Ron probably won't get up for another hour or so," he said, in a weary voice.
                              
"I didn't go back to sleep," Ron said, marching down the stairs. Harry wiped his forehead exhaustedly, sensing an argument. 
                              
"After you had another dream and decided to it walk off," Ron said, letting Hermione know what had happened.
                              
"Another dream? Oh, Harry, what happened?" she said, terrified.
                              
"It's not about Voldemort," Harry responded, tonelessly. 
                              
Ron flinched at the name and grabbed his ears as though trying to screen it out.
                              
"Really? Well, what was it about?" Hermione asked, ignoring Ron.
                              
"Guess," Harry said, irritably. 
                              
"Harry, are you alright?" Hermione asked, cautiously.
                              
"Fine, just hungry. Let's go down and..." Harry started.
                              
"Oh no, you don't! I think it's about time we had a talk. You haven't been sleeping and don't deny it! Don't you think we would notice by now?" Hermione said sternly, glancing to Ron for support, but like usual, he had decided to let her do all the work.
                              
"Hermione listen, I don't want to talk about it," Harry said, getting frustrated.
                              
"Talk about what? You don't even say his name. Harry, it wasn't your fault," she said, slightly exasperated.