Second chance

Harry realised that he had nowhere to go for help. He had told Dumbledore about all the Horcruxes and where he had found them. But most of them were six years later, in his seventh year, so where were they now? The first Horcrux he had come across was Voldemort's diary. But it had obviously been in Lucius Malfoy's possession for a long time, considering he was the one who had planted the book in Ginny Weasley's textbook in the shop. That could have been the starting point. But how was one to get close to the man? We hadn't even met this year. But what if... Draco! Exactly! If we could gain his trust, we could get to know Lucius and then convince him to give up the diary. At least with an Imperio spell. Besides, the holidays are ending, which means Malfoy will be back at Hogwarts soon. That's good. But how do I explain the change in my behaviour to him? Besides, I have to explain it to Ron and Hermione, though that shouldn't be a problem, and to the rest of my friends. But I can ignore them. They won't understand. I won't be able to explain my knowledge of the future to everyone. I may have to go under the radar. I could try staying in the classroom with Draco after school and talk to him. But how do I talk to him? Hey Draco, I was thinking, why don't we be best mates? That's no good. I need something deep, something that's going to make him like me right away. Draco, I've realised we shouldn't be enemies, why don't we work things out? It's snotty, but it's better. We'll have to think about it. Harry's second day at Hogwarts was coming to an end, but he had hardly slept at all during that time. His mind was swarming with thoughts, good and bad, but mostly anxious. There was no way he could escape the smell of death wafting around him. He was eleven again, and he could change everything, but what if he failed? What if people died? The Gryffindor sat on his bed in his dormitory. Ron had long since sniffled into his pillow, and somewhere outside the window a snowstorm was blizzarding. Perhaps it was the games of an inflamed mind, but Harry thought he could hear her voice. ‘Sleep, Harry... Don't let fear take over you...’. Potter was indeed tired. His head filled with lead and the boy slowly lowered it onto the pillow.

***

Harry is together with Professor Dumbledore in the cave. The old man finishes the last cup of potion and asks for water in exhaustion. Harry is scared. Very scared. He is scared to look at the weak, defenceless, begging to kill his mentor, scared to be in this cave, where his skin feels the danger, scared to realise that perhaps he will never return to Hogwarts. He runs to the cursed vessel and tries to create at least one cup's worth of water with his spell, and he succeeds. Happy, he scoops up the healing liquid and sees in the vessel... nothing. No water has appeared in the bowl. He hears the professor moaning, and his brain begins to think feverishly. The lake. The water. Salvation. Without a second's hesitation, Harry rushes into the black water and scoops it up. Finally, he succeeds. Potter is ready to get up and run up to his teacher, but suddenly something grabs his hands. In a moment the boy finds himself in an abyss of water and can't even breathe... Who is choking him. Clothes and body are touched by slimy hands and pull him down. Overcoming the daze, Harry opens his eyes and sees them... skinny dead men with unnaturally pale skin and sunken white, seeing nothing eyes. They were pulling their long, bony arms towards Harry, wrapping their legs around him and taking away any chance of resisting. Harry tried to fight them, but there were too many of them, and his strength gradually began to leave him. He was no longer moving. Almost all the oxygen had gone out of his lungs, and his eyes were darkening. Potter realised that there was nowhere to wait for help. His eyes slowly closed, and the boy went deeper and deeper under the water....

***

‘Harry?’ he heard. ‘Harry!’ ‘Ron?’ ‘I barely woke you up!’ came from somewhere off to the side. ‘You were screaming really loud, I thought we were being attacked... Were you having a nightmare?’ ‘Was it just a dream?’ Harry finally opened his eyes. He was in his bed, the bedroom light was on. ‘What did you see?’ the redhead asked worriedly. ‘Infernals,’ Harry replied, still not coming to his senses. ‘I won't even ask who it is,’ Ron muttered and got out of bed. He switched off the light, and after a minute Harry could already hear him snoring. It's just a dream. But can't I sleep properly now? No. It's just nerves. I have to stop thinking so much about my failure. I still have a lot ahead of me. I mustn't despair. I have a lot of responsibility, but I just have to deal with it. For all of them. I mustn't be weak. With these thoughts he fell back into the realm of Morpheus, but this time he dreamed nothing.