"When you say it's gonna happen now, when exactly do you mean? See, I've already waited too long and all my hope is gone."
- The Smiths

"Harry, wake up. Come on! Wake up, mate. We're going to miss breakfast."

Harry felt someone violently shaking his arm. His eyes snapped open and he reflexively grabbed the offending hand.

"Ow!"

"Oh. Uhm, sorry, Ron." Bewildered, Harry looked around, realising he was back in his bed in Gryffindor Tower. Ron hovered over him with a concerned look on his face. Was that all just a dream?

"No permanent harm done." Ron grinned and wiped imaginary dust off his robes. "You really must have been exhausted last night. It took me forever to wake you up. We really have to get moving, though. Breakfast is nearly done and we have Double Herbology this morning. Can't be around all those plants without something in our stomachs, right? Right."

"Yes, of course," Harry replied, finding it strange he needed to get his bearings in the place he'd spent most nights for the past five years. "You go on without me. I have to get ready and I think if I made you wait you might chew the bedposts from desperate hunger."

Ron laughed and agreed. "See you downstairs."

Harry sat on his bed and rubbed at his eyes. What happened last night? I was in some sort of hospital...? I remember feeling a needle in my arm, but that's the last thing. He finally decided it had to have been all in his head, so Harry shook off the last remnants of sleepiness and searched for his robes. He promised himself that he would tell Hermione and Ron what had happened at breakfast, just in case something more nefarious was at work here.

Stupid me. Can't even separate real life from my imagination.

As he stepped through the painting on his way to breakfast, The Fat Lady remarked that sleep did Harry a world of good. He smiled wanly at her, but he honestly didn't feel much better than he had last night. Anger had just been replaced with confusion. He supposed it wasn't doing him much good spending so much time alone with his thoughts.

Entering the Great Hall, he spotted Hermione waving him over. Neville Longbottom sat near she and Ron and Harry noted that Neville and Ron were speaking heatedly about something. As he approached, he caught the words "Seeker", "the cup" and "feint". Good. Quidditch talk was just the kind of normalcy he needed, but he wanted to speak to them about his dream first.

"Hi, Harry!" Hermione moved her books so Harry could take the seat next to her. "Are you all right? You don't look well." She moved to feel his forehead with her hand.

"I'm fine, Hermione. I just had a strange dream last night."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. I think I was in a Muggle hospital. At first, I only heard voices, but then a doctor started examining me and I tried speaking to him. The doctor was shocked that I was able to speak. Then, as I struggled to leave the bed, two orderlies pushed me back down and I think they sedated me. The next thing I remember is Ron waking me up for class."

Ron and Neville were now watching Harry and Hermione with interest.

"Dreams are often just that: dreams," stated Hermione sensibly. "Was this anything like the dreams you were having last year?"

"Not very much, no. Some of the people seemed familiar, though." Harry would have told them about thinking he heard Pettigrew, but Neville didn't know that whole story yet and Harry was in no mood to explain. "A couple of the orderlies reminded me of Crabbe and Goyle."

Ron snorted, "No wonder you think Voldemort's behind it. If I dreamed about those two gorillas, I'd think I'd been possessed, too."

Harry chuckled, but turned to Hermione. "What's the likelihood that this was just a dream?"

As Hermione replied, Harry panicked, as he realised he couldn't hear her. Sounds like running water filled his head and he could make out a male voice explaining, "Those are the friends."

"...probably just a dream. Let us know if you have any more, all right, Harry? Harry?"

"Oh. Yes. Right. I'll let you know." Any Quidditch-related distraction he may have desired was quickly forgotten. Visibly shaken from the unwelcome voice invasion, Harry got up without eating anything. "I'm going to go...now. Yes. I'll see you in class, all right?"

As Harry moved through the Great Hall, he spotted Draco Malfoy staring at him from the Slytherin table. Why must he always do that? he thought spitefully.

Harry promised himself that during any free time he had, he would research magical ways to gain access to and manipulate thoughts. Not able to shake the feeling that something was very wrong indeed, he decided that if Voldemort was somehow behind this, he wanted to know exactly what was being done to him. There are enough people messing about with my head without him interfering. More than he has already, at any rate.

The rest of Harry's week was exceedingly normal, as long as he ignored the momentary bits of extreme strangeness.

On Wednesday, the Gryffindor Quidditch team challenged Ravenclaw to a practise match. Several residents of both houses watched from the stands below. Luna Lovegood gazed up at the action, while waving a large pennant decorated in alternating red, blue, gold, and bronze stripes. Harry was amused when he realised the pennant possessed both Gryffindor and Ravenclaw colours. Periodically, the pennant flashed the words "HOUSE UNITY" in white letters.

To say the two teams were taking the match seriously would be a bit of an overstatement. Gryffindor's Beaters, Andrew Kirke and Jack Sloper, made two of the Ravenclaw Chasers laugh as they tried to hit each other off their brooms, instead of aiming the Bludgers at the opposing team.

Ron, acting in his role of the new Captain, ineffectively tried to shout direction to his three Chasers before screaming at Kirke and Sloper to knock it off and try actually playing for once.

Harry and Cho Chang nodded amicably at one another before the match began. Harry was glad that Cho apparently possessed no resentment over the way things had turned out between them last year. Now both circled the pitch lazily, as each knew the other wasn't really looking very hard for the Snitch.

Cho yelled to Harry, "Glad to see you back. Nice to have some real competition in this game!"

Ginny Weasley, now a Chaser, neatly threw the Quaffle through one of the Ravenclaw hoops and called back, "I was competition enough for you, Chang! Harry may be better than me, but I gave you a run for your money!" She winked at both Seekers to indicate she was at least partially kidding.

Cho laughed and Harry joined her. Increasingly happy about being back on a broom after such a long absence, he gracefully flew high into the air, before pointing the nose into a spectacular dive. The assembled members of both houses clapped at the impressive manoeuvre.

He was climbing upwards again when he heard the male voice from before. "Oh, Quidditch? Yes, strange word, but ingenious, really. It's like football on brooms. From what I gather, there are a lot more balls in play and catching one of them is worth one hundred and fifty points! His imagination is unparalleled."

Several voices yelled "Harry!" in unison and he recognised he was flying far too high over the Quidditch pitch. Dazed, he started his descent again, just as Cho spotted and gracefully scooped up the Snitch.

On Thursday, Harry received an owl from Hagrid with an invitation for tea. After his last class, Harry shuffled off to Hagrid's warm cabin. He absently scratched behind Fang's ears, as Hagrid poured them both drinks, then serving home-made chocolate biscuits, which Harry subtly ignored.

"School's treatin' ya well, ‘arry?" Hagrid asked as he arranged his enormous body on an impossibly tiny chair.

"Oh yes, school's all right. We've a lot of work assigned, but that's to be expected. The professors are already getting us prepared for the N.E.W.T.s. But you'd know that already, wouldn't you?"

Hagrid offered him a wide grin. "Could do," he assented. Harry was in Hagrid's N.E.W.T.-level Care of Magical Creatures class. "Why din't ya bring Ron and ‘ermione along wit' ya?"

Just as Harry was about to answer, a voice at the back of his head asked "Hagrid? What a strange name!" This time the speaker was female.

The now-familiar male voice replied, "Yes. He's half-giant, half-wizard."

"He's certainly the creative type," a younger male voice commented.

"Actually, Harry here has invented an intricate universe completely based on the existence of magic. Quite unlike anything else I've ever seen."

The sound of pens to paper filled Harry's head.

"You all right there, ‘arry?"

"Yes, yes, Hagrid, I'm fine. Fine. I've actually...got to go now. Sorry. Thank you for the tea! I promise I'll come visit another time."

The groundskeeper peered at him with concern. "All right, ‘arry. You take care of yourself, all right?"

Harry nodded and then nearly tripped over himself in his rush to escape Hagrid's cabin.

On Friday, Harry groaned at breakfast because he and Hermione had Double Potions. Ron grinned at Harry, as he did most Friday mornings, because he was no longer taking the blasted class. The lucky bastard had a free period. In fact, most Fridays, Ron was still in bed at this time.

Harry asked, "Ron, what are you doing at breakfast, anyway?" After a moment, he added, "And stop smirking at me."

"Wanted to get some flying time in. First Quidditch match in a week, Harry! Not much time. You could do with some extra practice, yourself."

Harry wondered when exactly his best friend had morphed completely into Oliver Wood. Jovially, he answered, "Yes, I'll skive off Potions to go flying right outside Snape's window. Sounds like a plan!"

Ron laughed as Hermione, looking scandalised, retorted, "Harry Potter, you will be doing no such thing! Let's go! We have to get to class."

Grumbling slightly, but still smiling, Harry said, "I was just kidding...." Hermione dragged him away from the Great Hall and towards the dungeons.

On their way there, Harry and Hermione ran into Professor Dumbledore. Both were surprised to see him, as he wasn't usually seen patrolling the corridors. Worry lines creased his usually serene face and Harry was struck, not for the first time, that the headmaster looked very, very old.

The headmaster stopped the pair and said, "Harry, may I have a word with you? Miss Granger, please inform Professor Snape that Harry may be late because he is speaking with me." He turned to Harry, "If you have any problems once you arrive, let me know later. As it is, this news is rather urgent."

Hermione nodded and rushed off to Potions, leaving Harry and Dumbledore standing in the hallway. Once the hallways cleared of students, Dumbledore sighed heavily and said, "Harry, one of The Order's sources has informed me that a plot involving you has been hatched by Voldemort and his forces."

Harry half-smiled and shrugged. "What else is new?"

Dumbledore smiled back, though his eyes were devoid of their usual twinkle. "A very good point, Harry," he said. "I'm sorry I don't have any more information for you right now, but please be on alert for any strange occurrences you may notice."

Harry nodded his assent.

"Have you any indication of Voldemort's presence of late?" asked Professor Dumbledore.

Freezing, Harry remembered his hospital dreams and the odd voices pperiodically poking into his conversations. He shook his head, perhaps a little too enthusiastically. "No, sir. I'll let you know if I notice anything, though."

Dumbledore peered curiously at Harry over his glasses, but just nodded. "Good, Harry. Now, hurry along to class. Professor Snape is expecting you."

Harry mumbled a guilt-laden "Yes, sir," before dashing off to class.

When he arrived in Potions, all of Harry's classmates were already paired up and working on the day's assignment. Confused, Harry tried to figure out who was missing, as he knew there was an even number of students in his class.

"Good of you to finally deem us worthy of your presence, Potter," drawled Snape.

"Professor Dumbledore needed to speak with me."

"Yes, Granger passed on the message. Get to work."

"Shall I join one of the other groups?" Harry asked, moving to work with Hermione and Padma Patil.

Draco Malfoy appeared in the doorway, late for class and maddeningly nonchalant about that fact. "No," Snape replied, cruel smile playing on his lips. "I don't believe that will be necessary. You and Mr. Malfoy will be partners."

Harry cursed silently as Malfoy joined him. At least his partner didn't look any happier about the arrangement.

Draco shot a cursory glance at the board and snapped at Harry, "Well, what are you waiting for? Get the powdered billywig." He pushed Harry towards the supply cabinet.

Harry moved, but not to collect ingredients. Instead, he swayed slightly, then passed out, landing hard on the stone floor.

Vision bleary, Harry squinted in order to recognise his surroundings. The last thing he remembered was moving to retrieve Potions ingredients. Even without his glasses, though, Harry now knew he was in an unfamiliar twin bed, lying on his side. Maybe I'm in the hospital wing, he hoped.

Just then, he recognised a thatch of platinum hair attached to the person with his back turned in the bed adjacent to his. "Malfoy?" he asked tentatively, more than a little confused. Harry wondered how they had both ended up in the hospital wing.

Knowing me, he mused, Malfoy and I got into a fistfight and I hit my head. Amnesia. Great. Just what I need.

The boy in the next bed stirred and wrenched his torso around, in order to face Harry. He solemnly regarded Harry and then intoned, "Never tickle a sleeping dragon." Malfoy then turned away from Harry again, flopping his head back down on the pillow.

Harry was awfully confused. The Hogwarts school motto? What does that have to do with anything?

"Yes, Malfoy, very good. Draco dormiens nunquam titillandus. I know it, too. Nice pun, by the way."

At this, Malfoy sat straight up and leaped out of bed, landing at Harry's side. "You know it!" He patted Harry affectionately on the cheek.

Harry stared at Malfoy, horrified. He grabbed for the glasses on the bedside table and shoved them onto his face, just to confirm he had the right person. They didn't feel like his glasses, but they were nearly the correct prescription. The glasses mystery was quickly solved as Harry confirmed he was back in the strange hospital room from his dreams. He groaned. Harry never wanted to come back to this place. And now Draco Malfoy was here.

He slowly removed the patting hand from his face, placing it gently at Malfoy's side, not wanting to make any sudden movements that might disturb this Malfoy. He was obviously the touchy-feely type, which made Harry a bit queasy. "You are Draco Malfoy, right?" he asked other boy.

"Yes! Yes, I am! My name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy." He held out his hand to shake Harry's and Harry thought this all seemed quite familiar to him.

This dream Draco seemed much friendlier – if slightly crazier - than the real Draco Malfoy, so Harry accepted the proffered hand. Dazed, Harry replied, "Pleased to meet you. I'm Harry Potter."

"I know that, Potter, Potter, Potter...." Draco trailed off and stared off into space for a moment before snapping back to the present. "Why are you talking to me, anyway? I mean, you never talk to me. And you never talk to them, either." Draco said "them" as though this should mean something to Harry. "You talk, though. You talk, talk, talk all day, but I never know what you're saying. I don't think you ever talk to anyone, though."

Harry was reasonably confused. He didn't understand how someone could talk all day, but not actually talk to anyone. This is all just a dream, you know, he reminded himself. He supposed it was possible to talk to no one at all as long as you were in a dream.

Pulling himself up, Harry hopped out of bed, joining Draco. "Do you know where my wand is? Do you have your wand? Maybe we can get out of this place...or maybe I'll wake up soon."

"Wand?" Draco said excitedly. "You have a wand? Can you do magic?"

Harry arched an eyebrow and patiently replied, "Yes, of course I have a wand. You do, too. We both can do magic. We both go to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Together. For nearly six years now."

"Is my wand very big?" Draco leered suggestively. Apparently, even in this world, Draco Malfoy possessed his trademark smirk. After a moment, Harry realised Draco was joking. Harry unexpectedly felt heat rise into his face.

"I've never actually gauged the, er, size of your wand." If possible, Harry blushed even more.

Draco examined him critically. He then said in a near whisper, "You're blushing. I like it. I think I'll make you blush more often."

"Yes, erm...uhm...hmm," Harry stammered. "Yes. All right then."

Harry ducked out of Draco's sight and searched around the bedside table's drawers and under his bed for his wand. Just in case this wasn't actually a dream, he figured he'd better be prepared, but he had no luck. Draco perched himself on the edge of Harry's bed and watched the proceedings with much fascination. As Harry prepared to crawl under his bed, Draco piped up, "Tell me about your magic. Is that what you talk to yourself all day about?"

Though his reply was muffled, Harry retorted, "I do not talk to myself all day."

"You do, too. All the doctors and nurses come in and watch you. They take notes, too. I mean, they take notes on all of us." Draco gestured around the room, indicating the other beds, several which were currently occupied by boys about Harry and Draco's age. "But they take a lot of notes on you. They call you 'fascinating' and 'ingenious' and 'intriguing' and a lot of other unnecessarily big words.

"Personally," Draco continued, "I don't find you all that fascinating. I mean, how interesting is a person who mutters under his breath all the time? I'm extremely interesting, but all they do is cluck over me and call me 'poor dear'. Maybe I should start muttering under my breath, too."

Harry emerged from under the bed and joined Draco. He repeated, "I don't talk to myself all day."

Draco waved this away with a flick of his hand. "Whatever you say, Harry." He smirked again. Harry was starting to think his dream Malfoy was catching up with his real life counterpart. This was the Draco Malfoy he knew and hated. Except, if he was being honest with himself, he didn't really hate Draco right now.

I've completely cracked.

Harry turned to Draco and asked, "Where are we, anyway?"

"Ah, the thousand quid question. You really don't know where we are?"

Harry shook his head.

"I suppose it makes sense, as you've been caught in your head all this time." Draco tapped on his own temple, indicating Harry's supposed insanity. "So, let me be the one welcome you to St. George's Hospital, Ward 4, which is also known as the Upper Boys' Ward, Psychiatric Wing, Kingston, Surrey, England, the United Kingdom, Earth. I believe you get the picture." Another smirk, though there was no cruelty behind it.

So he was in Surrey. Well, that was familiar, at least.

Draco continued, "We're the ones who are a danger to ourselves, but not to others." At this, Draco pointed out the scar on Harry's head and then to several on his right arm, in varying shades of pink and white.

"I didn't do this to myself," Harry said, indicating his head.

"No? Well, I'd say talking to yourself constantly and not being able to feed and dress yourself properly is enough to end up in here, too. You must be physically fine, though, or else you wouldn't be in here with us. You'd be with the sickies."

Indignant, Harry said, "I can feed and dress myself, Draco."

"Maybe now you can. For the past five or so years, though, I've watched people dress and undress you hundreds of times. Maybe even thousands."

Harry's blush burned hotter than before. "You have not."

"Have so," Draco countered. "Although, if you'd like, you can watch me dress and undress a hundred times so we'd be even."

"I'll, er, pass." Harry cleared his throat a couple times. "Thanks for the... offer."

Draco laughed. "I didn't think I'd make you blush again so soon. Sorry, Harry. I have somewhat of a reputation around here for being a charmer." Harry tried not to notice that Draco moved his leg so their knees were now touching.

Harry arched his eyebrow. Draco Malfoy is flirting with me. I've honestly gone off the deep end.

"Now let's hear about that magic. And the school. What was it? Hedwerts?" Draco seemed genuinely curious.

It was Harry's turn to laugh. "Hogwarts. It's where we – you and I and a ton of other kids – learn how to be witches and wizards. It's a boarding school. We learn charms, hexes, curses, potions and all about magical animals and plants. You're in Slytherin House; I'm in Gryffindor. We're bitter enemies. Ringing any bells yet?"

"You and I are enemies? Why's that? You seem like a nice chap and I know how great I am. I expect I'm a very powerful wizard." Draco sat up straight and puffed out his chest, while arranging his hospital gown in what Harry thought was a fairly respectable manner for a night-gown attached by a couple of thin strips of fabric.

"You're not a bad one. I'm better. You hate me because you're stuck up and I fight you whenever you insult my friends."

"Seems like a pretty thin reason for hating someone."

"Better than your reason, which amounts to, 'Because I want to.'"

"I do what I want," Draco huffed. "You said you're better than me. Maybe I hate you for that. What are you better at?"

"Well, not class, I suppose. I actually have no idea how you do in school, though you do have a tendency to rile up animals as much as you do people. I'd expect you perform better than your friends do, though. They're dunderheads named Crabbe and Goyle."

Draco squawked with laughter. One of the patients in a nearby bed stirred, but only mumbled to himself before falling back asleep.

"What's so funny?" inquired Harry.

Fanning his hand in front of his face, as though that would suppress his guffaws, Draco replied between snorts, "Harry, those are two of the orderlies here! What am I supposed to do with friends like that, unless I need my sheets changed?"

"Well, they're not orderlies where I am. They're just your idiot bodyguards. In fact, I'm pretty sure their position here is a step up, if anything."

Draco chuckled, probably thinking of orderlies protectively flanking him as he stalked through the hospital's corridors.

"I'm better at duelling and defending myself. I'm also better at Quidditch. That's a wizard sport," Harry added, after seeing Draco's befuddled expression.

Dubious, Draco asked, "So, you're one of those athletic bully types?"

"Not exactly." Harry continued, "Anyway, how is it that you know nothing about magic? I can't believe Lucius Malfoy wouldn't tell his son anything at all about magic, even in a dream of mine."

A shadow passed over Draco's eyes. They dulled to a slate grey, as he replied in a hollow voice, "My parents are dead."

"Oh, sorry," Harry softly replied, feeling very sorry indeed for Draco, even if this was all happening in Harry's head. He added, trying to help, "Mine are too."

Draco shot daggers at Harry and with a venom-filled voice spat out, "Liar!" He then stalked back to his bed and violently threw himself down, his back once again turned from Harry. Harry stared at the other boy's back for a few moments, wondering what that had meant. He sighed deeply and settled down in his bed once again. Without the distraction Draco provided, Harry felt without escape and totally hopeless.

Then, he heard footsteps approach. Harry was immediately at attention, prepared to bite and kick his way out of here. He wasn't about to be helpless just because he was without a wand.

An attractive, fairly young woman in a white medical coat entered, doing rounds. Harry sat up and stared straight at her. She was obviously startled. Harry tried to look innocent as possible and greeted her with a "Hullo!" Though he was still on guard, he thought it might be better to not look that way.

The woman made her way over to him. "Hullo, Harry. How are you feeling?" She said this as though she never expected him to answer.

"A little confused, but other than that, just fine. Who are you?" He smiled winningly at the woman.

She smiled back, but couldn't hide the wariness in her eyes. "I'm Dr. Sinistra, Harry. I usually the do the evening rounds. You're up awfully late, I hope you know. Not that I'm not happy to speak with you. Dr. Mason informed us that you'd spoken with him briefly a few days ago, but you haven't said anything to the staff since."

Dr. Sinistra? This woman looks nothing like Professor Sinistra. How...confusing.

The doctor took Harry's pulse and shined a light into his eyes. He squinted into the light.

"Well, Harry, you seem all right. I know this must all be very confusing for you, but you really should get some sleep. We can all have a long talk in the morning about what you're experiencing, all right?"

Harry quickly nodded, but said, "Doctor, can you please check on Draco? I...I think I said something that offended him, but I didn't mean it."

At this, Draco glanced over his shoulder at Harry. Harry smiled slightly at him and surprisingly, Draco offered him a small smile in return, before turning away again. Trying to fall asleep, though he was not particularly tired, he stared intently at the boy in the next bed.