Harry's Nightmare

Hogwarts Castle, Gryffindor Dormitory, in the dead of night.

The young wizards were deep in blissful dreams.

Oh~

Well, not all of them.

Harry Potter was frowning in his sleep, his face pale and his forehead slick with cold sweat. He twisted and turned in bed, as if in terrible discomfort.

He was having a dream!

Harry dreamed that his body had become very strange.

It was incredibly soft, yet packed with powerful muscles. It was enormous, yet extremely agile. Most importantly, he felt his body coursing with terrifyingly powerful magical power.

He slid across a cold stone floor. Suddenly, he felt his other two heads start to move.

The two heads droned on about something, as if they were arguing.

His head throbbed terribly. It felt as though a lightning bolt were tearing through his skull, making the pain unbearable.

Harry shook his head hard, and at last he began to feel a little better.

He realized he was the head on the left. The middle head was in a daze, as though sleep-talking—"Master, no, I don't want to die, no..."

The head on the right seemed agitated and uneasy, shouting, "What's happening to me... No, don't hurt that child!"

The corridor's cold stone walls brushed against his skin. He turned to look at a painting on the wall.

It showed a fine lady looking into a mirror.

Through the mirror in the painting, Harry saw his reflection. He was unmistakably a Runespoor.

During their first year at school, Runespoors had been running rampant, and Hermione had given him and Ron a lesson about them. She'd said that a Runespoor's three heads each had a role: the cold, malicious head on the left was the planner; the dazed head in the middle was the dreamer; and the agitated, anxious