Dreams Are Falling Short

“God damn it, Malfoy,” I said to Draco the first time I saw him alone after the Quidditch match. “Why couldn’t you just keep your god damn mouth shut?”

“Hey, I’m the one who got punched in the face okay,” he said, pointing at his black eye. “Besides, I have to put up an act because no one can really know how close we are, etcetera, etcetera.”

“Yeah, I know,” I muttered, not wanting argue it. I kicked my feet through some snow, and I felt his arm come around my shoulder in a sideways hug.

“It’ll be alright, I promise, we’ll make it through all this shit.”

It was the first time that I believe something like that, that normally-false combination of words which normally help false promises which I normally didn’t believe, but now, coming from the mouth of Draco Malfoy, I found myself wanting to believe them. So I did with ease and I hugged him back fully.

-

December arrived, bringing with it more snow and a positive avalanche of homework for the fifth-years. Ron and Hermione’s prefect duties also became more and more onerous as Christmas approached. They were called upon to supervise the decoration of the castle (‘You try putting up tinsel when Peeves has got the other end and is trying to strangle you with it,’ said Ron), to watch over first- and second-years spending their break-times inside because of the bitter cold (‘And they’re cheeky little snot-rags, you know, we definitely weren’t that rude when we were in first year,” said Ron) and to patrol the corridors in shifts with Argus Filch, who suspected that the holiday spirit might show itself in an outbreak of wizard duels (‘He’s got dung brains, that one,’ said Ron furiously.) They were so busy that Hermione even stopped knitting elf hats and was fretting that she was down to her last three.

“All those poor elves I haven’t set free yet, having to stay here over Christmas because there aren’t enough hats!”

In any case, I didn’t want to think about Christmas. For the first time in my time at Hogwarts, I very much wanted to spend the holidays away from Hogwarts. Between the lack of players for the Quidditch team and worrying about whether or not Hagrid was going to be put on probation, I felt highly resentful towards the place at the moment. The only think I really looked forward to were the DA meetings, and they would have to stop over the holidays, as nearly everybody in the DA would be spending the time with their families. Hermione was going skiing with her parents, something that greatly amused Ron, who had never heard of Muggles strapping narrow strips of wood on their feet to slide down mountains. Ron and I were returning home to The Burrow, along with the other Weasleys at Hogwarts. Harry asked one day how we were going to get home for Christmas, to which I responded: “But you’re coming too! Didn’t I say? Molly wrote and told us to invite you weeks ago!”

-

Angelina, Katie, Alicia and I showed up to the last DA meeting before the holidays breathless and cold. Only Harry and Luna were there before us, both of them looking warm and cosy in the Room of Requirement.

“Well,” said Angelina dully, pulling off her cloak and throwing it into a corner, “we’re replaced you.”
“Replaced me?” said Harry blankly.

“You and Fred and George,” I said impatiently. “We’ve got another Seeker!”

“Who?” said Harry quickly.

“Ginny Weasley,” said Katie.

Harry gaped at her.

“Yeah, I know,” said Angelina, pulling out her wand and flexing her arm, “but she’s pretty good, actually. Nothing on you, of course,” she said, throwing him a very dirty look, “but as we can’t have you…”

“And what about the Beaters?” he asked.

“Andrew Kirke,” said Katie without enthusiasm. “He’s not brilliant, but compared to the rest of the idiots who turned up…”

“And me,” I said, rolling up the sleeves of the sweater I was wearing. “I gave up my position as Chaser, and gave it back to Alicia,” we shared a smile as we both pulled out our wands.

The arrival of Ron, Hermione and Neville brought the discussion to an end, and within five minutes the room was full.

“OK,” Harry said, calling us all to order. “I thought this evening we should just go over the things we’ve done so far, because it’s the last meeting before the holidays and there’s no point starting anything new right before a three-week break –“

“We’re not doing anything new?” said Zacharias Smith, in a disgruntled whisper loud enough to carry through the room “If I’d known that, I wouldn’t have come.”
“We’re all really sorry Harry didn’t tell you, then,” said Fred loudly.
Several people sniggered.
“- we can practise in pairs,” said Harry. “We’ll start with the Impediment Jinx, for ten minutes, then we can get out the cushions and try Stunning again.”
-
I had been sitting in the common room for hours, with the pitch blackness of the night visible through the windows, my only comforter being the huge sweater and fat pants that I was wearing. I’d been unable to sleep so I’d just been star gazing, and thinking.

However my thoughts were broken as I heard frantic footsteps coming down from the boys’ dormitory. I stood up, facing whoever was hurrying downstairs. Neville emerged, and I instantly asked him what was wrong.

“Harry is really ill, I’m going to go get help,” he said as he made his way towards the portrait hole.
I rushed up the stairs, not caring that someone was going to find me here soon. I took the steps two at a time, and barged through the door, to see Ron pushing Harry back onto his back, and Dean and Seamus whispering nearby. I walked closer, grabbing a facecloth which was lying around and patting the sweat off of Harry’s forehead.

Whether one minute passed or ten, I didn’t know, but soon there were hurried footsteps coming up the stairs and I head Neville’s voice again.

“Over here, Professor.”

McGonagall came hurrying into the dormitory in her tartan dressing gown, her glasses perched lopsidedly on the bridge of her bony nose.

“Samuels, what are you doing here?”

“Harry first, me later,” I said.

“What is it, Potter? Where does it hurt?”

“It’s Ron’s dad,” he said, sitting up again. “He’s been attacked by a snake and it’s serious, I saw it happen.”

“What do you mean, you saw it happen?” said McGonagall, her dark eyebrows contracting.

“I don’t know… I was asleep and then I was there…”

“You mean you dreamed this?”

“No!” said Harry angrily. “I was having a dream at first about something completely different, something stupid… and then this interrupted it. It was real, I didn’t imagine it. Mr Weasley was asleep on the floor and he was attacked by a gigantic snake, here was a load of blood, he collapsed, someone’s got to find out where he is…”

I hadn’t noticed that I’d grabbed hold of Ron’s arm until he winced in pain. I mumbled my apology as McGonagall gazed at Harry through her lopsided spectacles as though horrified at what she was seeing.

“I’m not lying and I’m not mad!” Harry told her, his voice rising to a shout. “I tell you, I was it happen!”

“I believe you, Potter,” said McGonagall curtly. “Pot on your dressing gown – we’re going to see the Headmaster.”