A Rather Odd Dream

Before starting I'd like to give a little background of the dream. Me and my family have moved to Pennsylvania for next few months. We have an apartment here. The whole place still looks like a jumbled up mess because Tunie won't let me wave wand and give it a proper look. Ok, so lets get going with the dream...

Petunia and I were straightening up the apartment because we heard news that apartment community inspectors were coming to check for damage and other things. Amidst our hurry, we did not even notice that they walked in the door without knocking. I said my hello and offered to show them my room first. Tunie walked into her room to finish cleaning. The inspectors and I walked into my room which is double the size of my actual room. Half the room looked almost like mine, but the other half was full of semi-dilapidated piles of boxes. Upon seeing this, I informed the inspectors that we were cleaning out the basement. I walked down the stairs to show them. The basement was about 150 feet long and 30 feet wide and was unfinished. Pipes were exposed and support columns littered the space.

After walking part way into the basement, I realized the inspectors did not accompany me. I took a step back to return upstairs when I realized a barely visible door on the opposite wall of the basement. The door was shaped like any common door, but the color of it blended perfectly into the wall and the seams were so flush that one would suspect the door was painted on. Without hesitation, I opened the door to reveal a small music hall. The room was extremely well lit which showed the stark contrast between the white walls and the hot pink upholstered chairs and carpet. At the front of the hall was a round stage adorned with a few music stands. As I walked closer to the stage, some young musicians walked in through doors on either side of the stage. They were carrying music sheets and setting up for a performance. One girl with brown hair and a pink sweatshirt noticed me and asked if I was performing. I replied that I was not and she welcomed me to take a look around the other music halls while I was there. Everyone seemed friendly, but busy with setting up so I walked through the door to my right (left of the stage).

This door revealed another music hall. This one was extremely large; nearly three times the size of the past one. The walls were covered in dark wood, the long rectangular stage was pure white and the seats and carpet again were hot pink. I couldn’t help but noticed that the room seemed to be placed bizarrely in relation to the past room. It seemed as though it were set on an angle; as if one were placing square blocks in a circle. No one else entered this room so I jogged to the door on the opposite side. I opened the door and peeked in. There before me was another music hall. This one had slightly less brilliant white walls, a low wooden stage and hot pink carpet and chairs. Upon seeing this room, my hypothesis that the rooms were set in a circle was concluded. The angle was just abnormal.

Instead of continuing my travel through the circle of rooms, I decided to exit out of the mess. There was a door in the large room at the very stop of the inclined seating. I ran up the stairs in the center of the seats and opened the dark wooden door. In front of me was my basement just as I had left it. I walked back into the space and was immediately confronted by a green bullfrog. Odd, I do not own a pet toad or a bullfrog; I actually dislike frogs very much. Upon studying the frog, two more walked up to me from opposite ends of the basement. One was blue Poision Dart Frog and one a darker brown color. Bewildered began to walk toward the steps upstairs so I could inform Petunia of the frog infestation. As I took my first step, the first frog said, “Did you like the music halls?” I halted and looked peculiarly at it. Did it just talk to me? “Yes, did you like them?” the blue frog asked in a higher pitched voice. “Umm, yes, they were nice,” I replied. “You like to sing don’t you?” stated the bullfrog. I did a half nod, sure singing was fun, but I sing to my enjoyment, its not my profession. “Would you like to be our beloved alto? To sing for us every day in the music halls with a full audience? Can’t you picture it?” said the bullfrog. Not even thinking about the question I simply asked, “Why are all the halls hot pink?” The bullfrog chuckled, “Well well, you cannot get everything you want in life. Don’t you hate the color hot pink?” How in the world did the frog know I hated the color hot pink? Maybe since he was a frog and was part of the things I detested? So I can be famous, but only if I am everlastingly surrounded by things I hate? “Yes, you can spend this life and the next singing to your delight,” proclaimed the bullfrog. Were the musicians in the halls doing the same thing? I had interest in singing but didn't wish to be famous in this way, why would this frog think I would want to sing with them for eternity? I gave the bullfrog an odd side glance and stepped between him and the blue one and jaunted upstairs. The three frogs stayed in the dark basement staring at the steps.


*please note that the only thing I had before bed was Anti-allergy Potions.


Just a picture of a blue Poison Dart.

Unexpected

One day, certain muggle friend of mine wrote something and gave me to read. I was surprised to see how this muggle born girl came to know of this! It was so unexpected, yet very surprising! I was utterly amazed and befuddled at the same time! I'm certain she has some magical power or it wouldn't be possible for her to know. However, here I'd like to share her writing and a true story of my life. The Unexpected ...

The Great Hall shimmered with a magical gleam as the light from hundreds of candles played over towering carvings of ice. The twelve enormous Christmas trees that lined the hall glittered and shined with crystal icicles, golden bubbles, and live, flittering fairies. Dancers swept across the floor, like gears in a music box, all turning in time as the music reached a magnificent crescendo. In an age when fear was as constant as the air itself, the Yule Ball was a rare time of innocent joy, at time of fragile emotions, a time of mustered courage and faintly fluttering hearts.

Apart from the rest, among the crowds yet alone, a pair of emerald green eyes scanned the faces around her. Brushing a strand of red hair from her face, the young woman who would one day die to protect her son watched those around her silently. She had come alone, unashamed. She had received many invitations, but each had been politely refused. She told herself that it was because she was independent, and free. She did not need another. But was that the real reason? She would die before admit it, but perhaps, deep in her heart of hearts, she hoped that he was looking for her.

A blazing inner struggle was raging deep within his soul. He could see her standing alone, as though waiting for him, and he wanted desperately to go to her. But could she ever accept him, ever understand his feelings? After the incident in their fifth year, after that scene by the lake… Would she forgive him or condemn him? The young man who would one day give his life for The-Boy-Who-Lived ran a hand nervously through his raven hair. Though his heart hammered loudly in his chest, it told him that as painful as it would be to die with her rejection like a knife in his heart, it would be far worse to live with his ignorant cowardice, alone forever, wondering what her answer would have been. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, just in case he found himself unable to return to the surface once he took the plunge. Straightening his dress robes, he set off through the sea of faces, unaware of the profound weight that his decision really held and of the cataclysmic events of the future that he would unknowingly set into motion.

As she watched the dancers glide, her gaze shifted and turned inward. The faintest breeze seemed to pass through her, and it whispered to her, like a voice in a dream.

‘Your destiny approaches.’

He is coming, she thought to herself. Then her joy turned to anger at her foolishness. Why should he come for her? She knew she must cast him from her mind, or she would surely go mad with longing. She closed her eyes, and a faint, mournful sigh passed her lips.

Then a voice broke through her gloomy thoughts like a ray of light pierces the clouds. Like the voice of an angel.

“Excuse me…”

She opened her eyes, and there he was. Her knight in shining armour, his presence chased away her darkness and illuminated her vision, until he was all that she could see. He extended his left hand to her with a slight bow.

“May I have this dance?”

The traditional invitation. Most people never bothered with the traditional, formal approach. But it was so romantic of him, he seemed such the gentleman. She was deeply impressed. Slowly, she raised her right arm.

Time seemed to slow as he saw her raise her hand to meet his. He watched it fall ever so gently, until the skin of her palm just brushed his. His heart stopped as they paused for a moment in time, aware only of the touch, so faint, yet so powerful. Then the moment passed and she allowed her hand to rest on his. It took all he possessed to appear calm, but he could not stop the faintest, invisible shiver from running through his body. In the traditional way, by taking his hand she had accepted his invitation and given him permission to place his hand on her waist.

She held her breath as he reached out and placed his hand carefully on her hip. At one time, she might have been suspicious of his motives, but now she could feel his honesty and she trusted him completely. She could see it in his eyes, startling and brilliant. She was sure that if he had raised his eyes to meet her gaze at that moment, her heart would have stopped.

He could feel her eyes watching him, yet he dared not meet them with his own, lest the fragile connection between them should shatter and he should wake to find that he had been dreaming. So delicate she seemed before him. Her dress sparkled with a mysterious sheen, and it revealed her shoulders, smooth as cream. It was as though she were made of porcelain and crystal. So beautiful was she, and yet he dared not meet her eyes. Instead, he watched as she raised her left hand and rested it on his arm. Her touch was so soft that he could barely feel it through his sleeve. Oh so lightly, he closed his fingers around her hand. He paused for a moment to find his place in the music, then took a step.

And they danced.

Her world had been silent and still as he had filled her consciousness, but now as music swept through her, her heart soared. It was more wonderful than she’d ever imagined. Their movements were small at first, but he knew the dance well and was surprisingly graceful, and soon they were gliding across the floor. Almost completely unaware of anyone else, she allowed him to lead her through the hall, weaving expertly among the other dancers, until she was sure that she was dancing on air.

Taking a chance, she looked up at him. Finding his eyes thankfully averted, she studied his features, especially his eyes, honest and intense. She would have wept had she known what time would do to those features, what changes pain and sorrow would bring.

Sensing that he was about to shift his gaze, she looked away. In doing so, she noticed a familiar face watching her through the crowd. She was surprised to see Sirius on the sidelines, and judging by his expression, he was just as surprised to see her. She smiled. Such a look of bewildered jealously was rare indeed for Sirius.

Carefully keeping his breathing even, he turned his eyes to hers. Her lips were curved gracefully upwards in a smile and a warm sensation swept through him. He saw that her sparkling eyes were focused on a point over his right shoulder. Curious, he led her in a half turn, then peered past her to see what she had been looking at.

Oh, if only he had a camera. Surely he would never forget that look on Black’s face. It was absolutely priceless. Though he knew he’d get trouble for it later, he couldn’t help but flash a roguish smirk at Black before sweeping off through the crowd.

As they neared the edge of the hall, she looked up at the magnificent trees and smiled contentedly. In spite of the fear of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named that shadowed their lives, she was perfectly happy in this moment. If only it could last forever.

But she knew that things would be different now. She had been avoiding him in the past, hiding in denial. But no longer. Now, she had no fears about unveiling her true feelings. She knew that he would be there for her, and with him by her side, she could face Voldemort himself.

The clock tower tolled midnight, signalling the end of the ball. She gave his arm a gentle squeeze. Yes, things would definitely be different from now on.

He felt her tighten her grip on his shoulder and he squeezed her hand in return, a silent promise. He would always be there for her, to protect her, and give her strength.

She stepped back as the music faded. He gave a bow, and after a moment’s hesitation, raised her hand to his mouth, brushing it softly against his lips. She paused, watching him for a moment, then slowly turned to leave.

“Goodnight, Lily,” he whispered softly.

She stopped and looked back at him, smiling. Their eyes met at last.

“Goodnight, Severus.”