Categories > Books > Harry Potter > Harry Potter, Walker of Dreams
Harry Potter, Walker of Dreams
0 reviewsIn which our hero first walks, and has a friendly meeting with royalty.
5Hot
Disclaimer: I still own none of the characters of the Harry Potter series, which are the property of JK Rowling and her publishers. This story takes place during an altered version of Harry’s 5th year. Hopefully, I have explained the changes sufficiently for the purpose of this story. Any mangling of epistemology and/or movie lines is entirely my responsibility.
Yep, another story! Only, this one isn't exactly new; I originally wrote it way back in 2008. Some messages on The Great Hall newsgroup encouraged me to post this story here and, if you're very good and lucky, for me to extend it.
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Harry Potter was in an unusual and unpleasant situation as March began- he was actually feeling grateful for Severus Snape.
As he had discussed with Sirius at the end of the Christmas holiday, Snape had taken it upon himself to teach Harry Occlumency, to prevent Voldemort from invading his mind. The first lesson had been brutal- Snape repeatedly demanded that Harry clear his mind and then used his Legilimency to break through. However, at the beginning of their second session, Snape actually explained himself.
“I needed to know if you understood any of the principles of Occlumency. Clearly you do not. In a way, that is just as well, because it allows me to teach you the method that I use without having to overrule a different system,” Snape said more quietly than usual.
“What method is that, S- Professor?” Harry inquired.
“This method is the oldest form of Occlumency known, as it was first developed by the ancient Greeks some twenty-five centuries ago. It is known as the Palace of Memory.” Snape got up and starting walking around the front of the Potions classroom.
“The Greeks thought of the brain as resembling a great palace, with memories occupying each of the rooms within and corridors connecting those rooms. On the rare occasion that you have an idea,” he said with a smirk, “your mind accesses the contents of the rooms in order, following the corridors, until you have a complete thought process. Ordinarily you pass through these rooms swiftly and without interruption. Sometimes, however, you cannot. Do you understand what I am talking about?”
“I think so, Professor,” said Harry. Despite himself, he was finding this the most fascinating lecture he’d ever heard from Snape.
“Very well. Think of that obstacle as a door, blocking the corridor. I will teach you how to create such obstacles so that even if other people penetrate your mind, they will not be able to learn anything of value.”
Over the next two months, Snape had taught him to order his thoughts and his knowledge, and to learn to stop thinking quickly- “to stop running along the corridors of your mind,” as he put it with a ghost of a grin. Every week, he tested Harry by attempting to penetrate his mind, and each week saw Harry make slow but steady progress.
“Good, Potter!” he said at the end of March, after Harry had managed to stop Snape from continuing to learn about Aunt Marge’s visits. “Remember, in the palace of your mind, you are guarding all the doors and holding all the keys. You are learning to take possession of your own mind.
“You have made genuine progress, I think. You may have noticed that this is leading to less spectacular failures in my class,” Snape said smugly.
“Well, I…” Harry sputtered.
“Make sure that you do your sleeping exercises. And Potter?” Snape asked.
“Yes, Professor,” Harry prompted.
“I know what it is that you are dreaming of, from my earlier sessions with you. I have been there in that corridor myself many times. It is important that you do not let him get any further. I will not say the name of what he seeks- he probes my mind as he does yours,” he said while stroking his arm, “but he must not be allowed to have it. These techniques have given you have some power over your dreams; I ask you to use it, carefully.”
On that note, Harry left for Gryffindor Tower.
---
The “sleeping exercise” that Snape had assigned was simple, but not exactly easy. Snape told him that his mind was most vulnerable just before going to bed or just as he was awakening. Harry was to start thinking about one topic, then suddenly switch to thinking about something else, and to repeat this process several times before clearing his mind as he lay down to sleep.
Harry started that process by thinking about whether his Transfiguration essay was good enough to earn an E, then about what kind of earrings Luna would wear the next day, and then how Umbridge might learn about the DA meetings, and then finally about Hermione.
Over the last month, Hermione had seemed a bit… different from her usual. It seemed that she touched his arm a little more often during the meetings, leaned a bit closer to him during History of Magic, and sat next to him at dinner a bit more often than before. He wasn’t quite sure if any of those differences was significant or if they were figments of his imagination. On that note, his head hit the pillow and conscious thought left him.
Soon thereafter, he found that he was having one of those dreams about the black corridor. Over the last few weeks, he’d actually started to look forward to these dreams. He’d found that he could make the point of view hurry forward, stop, or even retreat. (He imagined how funny it would look to an observer, if there was one.) Once, he tried running straight ahead into the second door, which ended his dream immediately.
This time, however, something different happened. While moving along the corridor, he saw a narrow passage to his right. The letters HG, in gold, shone dimly from its entrance. He had never before seen a branch from this corridor, but this time he decided to take it.
As he continued along the branch, he noticed a change in the surroundings. The black stone walls and floor turned into grey steel, while fluorescent lights gradually replaced the blue torches that had provided illumination. The passageway twisted and turned, and with growing curiosity, Harry followed.
Eventually, he saw the end of the corridor opening into a larger room. In the doorway in front of him were two figures- a blonde woman in black and a red-haired man in khaki. He couldn’t see their faces, and when he called, he got no answer.
“This way, Ronald,” the woman said, sticking a wand in the man’s back. Harry recognized the voice immediately. The man complied, and Harry followed what were obviously Luna and Ron- or some version of them, anyway.
The passageway opened into a kind of conference room, with a high ceiling and a table in the center while six women he didn’t recognize immediately sat in chairs. Maps of Britain, Europe, and the world lined the walls, all colored red except for a splotch of yellow in the maps showing North America. Luna and Ron stopped fifteen or twenty feet from the woman at the head of the table, and Harry stopped several feet behind them, not that he was sure that it mattered.
“I have brought the American commander to you, Empress,” said Luna’s voice. “Kneel,” she instructed Ron, who complied.
The woman at the head of the table got up and slowly walked toward them, and Harry’s breath caught.
This woman was amazingly beautiful. She was extremely tall, several inches over six feet, as well as Harry could guess. High-heeled black leather boots covered her feet, while the rest of her body was encased within a black leather one-piece suit that looked painted on, and long black gloves reached to her elbows. Gold stars decorated her collar, but no other medals or signs of rank could be seen. She had two belts around her waist for some reason. She had strong legs, firm hips that swayed with every step, a flat stomach, and broad shoulders supporting a huge pair of breasts. Her face was equally magnificent, with a high forehead, long wavy dark brown hair, and penetrating brown eyes, and…
This was Hermione! Instead of her usual shuffle, she walked with the self-possession of the queen of the world (which, judging from the Empress comment, she might well be). Instead of her usual slightly nervous soprano, her voice was a commanding and seductive low alto.
“General,” the sort-of-Hermione intoned, “thank you for coming. I am glad that you have seen the folly of continuing to fight this war.”
“With all due respect, your Highness, in war as in chess, there comes a time when you have to resign,” the ersatz Ronald said in a broad Southern American accent.
“Indeed. I am glad that you have seen the light, General. If you sign this surrender and do one other thing, I will let you and your men go free.” With that, she produced a piece of paper from… somewhere, and let it drop. It slowly descended in front of her stunning legs to land at her booted feet, where a pen joined it. Ron bent down to pick them up.
“No,” Hermione announced. “You will sign from there, on the floor.” Scooting forward on his knees, Ron picked up the pen and signed the paper.
“And now that one more thing,” she continued. “You will kiss my feet and apologize for all the effort that you have cost me.” Again, Ron did as she asked, kissing each of her boots and stammering out that he would take blame for the war that had apparently been fought.
“You may go now,” Hermione announced. Ron scrambled to his feet and ran past- indeed, partly through- a mesmerized Harry and out the doorway.
“Ladies, there is a saying that it is more difficult to conquer the world than to rule it,” Hermione lectured as she returned to the table. “Tomorrow, I believe that we will find that it is also much more fun to rule! I shall address the peoples of the world as their one and eternal Empress, and I shall guide the world to greatness!”
As the applause from the other ladies died down, Hermione added, “Marshal Lovegood, you will join me. The rest of you may do as you see fit- our work here is done!”
As the other women dispersed, Luna joined Hermione at the head of the table. If Harry hadn’t already determined that the woman was Luna based on her voice, Harry might not have recognized her. Luna was only half a head shorter than Hermione- a full foot taller than she was in real life- and had a body almost as breathtaking as her Empress’. She was outfitted in the same way as her leader, with a black leather suit and those two belts.
Hermione led Luna to the world map covering an entire wall of the room. She waved her hand, and a door appeared in the South Pacific, through which both women entered. Harry followed close behind them.
After walking along for half a minute, they came across a single jail cell. The cell was well-lit and surprisingly spacious for a prison cell. Luna unlocked the door, and the three of them entered.
On the wall opposite the door hung a man. He was a tall, strong man, nearly as tall as Hermione. His hair and beard were unkempt and black, and he wore only a soiled loincloth around his waist. Heavy chains were attached to each wrist and ankle.
The two women strutted to either side of the prisoner. Hermione untied her upper belt, and Harry saw that this “belt” was in fact a leather whip, wrapped several times around her waist. Luna did the same with her upper belt. (Each woman’s lower belt contained a holstered pistol, a sword, and a wand.)
“Harry, did you see Ron sign the world away?” Hermione cooed, gesturing to what looked like a television monitor above the door.
With a shock, Harry saw the prisoner’s face… and found that it looked like his own. Actually, Harry thought the prisoner looked much more handsome than he did in reality. The prisoner wore no glasses, and had a strong jaw and high cheekbones beneath piercing green eyes. Harry could see the fire within them, and so could Hermione and Luna.
“Just think, Harry,” she continued softly, reaching a gloved hand under the prisoner’s chin. “You could have shared my throne and my rule… and so much more.” If her voice had been seductive before, it was liquid sex now. “You could have had pleasures the likes of which no man has ever enjoyed, and my generals would have done anything for you. And I mean anything.” With that, she reached across to Luna, and the two witches shared a deep kiss, with their tongues flashing and dueling like the swords on their belts. Their hands began to glide upon their leather second skins.
After a minute or so, the women stopped kissing. “But you simply wouldn’t let it be, Harry. And for that, I must punish you. Marshal, you may go.”
Luna walked toward the cell door. “Goodbye, Harry,” she said brightly- but she turned not toward the prisoner, but toward the Harry just inside the door, who had been observing the scene.
Hermione cracked the whip that she was holding, with a sound like thunder in the cell. As she did so, the chains supporting the prisoner’s wrists abruptly dropped to the floor. The prisoner was forced into a kneeling position before the Empress.
“And now you will serve me,” Hermione breathed. She drew her wand and drew a straight line across the lower belly of her suit, followed by two more lines stretching below the ends of the first. A flap of the suit covering her crotch fell open.
Underneath the suit, as Harry had guessed, there was nothing but Hermione. A very aroused Hermione, apparently- her labia were red with lust and blood, her clitoris was the size and nearly the color of a cherry, and the flap of leather that fell away was saturated. The prisoner crawled forward and began to lick and suck on the offered skin.
As Hermione moaned, the Harry by the door had seen enough. He walked forward, brushed the hair from the back of her neck, and kissed her. His hands wandered around her broad shoulders to feel those magnificent breasts.
Within a few seconds, Hermione shuddered in orgasm. She had never had a dream like this. Two Harrys to serve her for the rest of time! Two Harrys to…
Where did the second one come from? The prisoner in front of her was part of her dream, so the other Harry must be…
In two widely separated beds in Gryffindor Tower, two teenagers awoke in shock. Neither could get back to sleep again for the rest of the night.
---
The following morning, Ron Weasley was sitting at the Gryffindor table enjoying a hearty breakfast, as was his usual. He usually ran into at least one of his two best friends, but this morning they were nowhere to be found and breakfast was nearly over.
Just then, Harry and Hermione could be seen separately at the doors of the Great Hall. Ron called out to them, and slowly, they walked toward the table. The two sat down on opposite sides of Ron, carefully avoiding each other’s eyes. Neither had much of an appetite.
As she finished, Hermione said, “Good thing it’s Saturday. I’ve got a lot of reading to do. I probably won’t see you again for a while, so…”
Harry responded, “Could I talk to you, Hermione?”
“I’m sorry, Harry, but I’m going to be really busy, and I don’t think…”
“Just for a few minutes… Empress.”
Hermione immediately froze. “Well, if that’s what you need to talk about, I guess we can talk for a few minutes.” She grabbed Harry’s arm and they ran from the hall.
Ron stared after them, trying to figure out what had happened for a few seconds. They he shrugged and continued his breakfast.
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Yep, another story! Only, this one isn't exactly new; I originally wrote it way back in 2008. Some messages on The Great Hall newsgroup encouraged me to post this story here and, if you're very good and lucky, for me to extend it.
---
Harry Potter was in an unusual and unpleasant situation as March began- he was actually feeling grateful for Severus Snape.
As he had discussed with Sirius at the end of the Christmas holiday, Snape had taken it upon himself to teach Harry Occlumency, to prevent Voldemort from invading his mind. The first lesson had been brutal- Snape repeatedly demanded that Harry clear his mind and then used his Legilimency to break through. However, at the beginning of their second session, Snape actually explained himself.
“I needed to know if you understood any of the principles of Occlumency. Clearly you do not. In a way, that is just as well, because it allows me to teach you the method that I use without having to overrule a different system,” Snape said more quietly than usual.
“What method is that, S- Professor?” Harry inquired.
“This method is the oldest form of Occlumency known, as it was first developed by the ancient Greeks some twenty-five centuries ago. It is known as the Palace of Memory.” Snape got up and starting walking around the front of the Potions classroom.
“The Greeks thought of the brain as resembling a great palace, with memories occupying each of the rooms within and corridors connecting those rooms. On the rare occasion that you have an idea,” he said with a smirk, “your mind accesses the contents of the rooms in order, following the corridors, until you have a complete thought process. Ordinarily you pass through these rooms swiftly and without interruption. Sometimes, however, you cannot. Do you understand what I am talking about?”
“I think so, Professor,” said Harry. Despite himself, he was finding this the most fascinating lecture he’d ever heard from Snape.
“Very well. Think of that obstacle as a door, blocking the corridor. I will teach you how to create such obstacles so that even if other people penetrate your mind, they will not be able to learn anything of value.”
Over the next two months, Snape had taught him to order his thoughts and his knowledge, and to learn to stop thinking quickly- “to stop running along the corridors of your mind,” as he put it with a ghost of a grin. Every week, he tested Harry by attempting to penetrate his mind, and each week saw Harry make slow but steady progress.
“Good, Potter!” he said at the end of March, after Harry had managed to stop Snape from continuing to learn about Aunt Marge’s visits. “Remember, in the palace of your mind, you are guarding all the doors and holding all the keys. You are learning to take possession of your own mind.
“You have made genuine progress, I think. You may have noticed that this is leading to less spectacular failures in my class,” Snape said smugly.
“Well, I…” Harry sputtered.
“Make sure that you do your sleeping exercises. And Potter?” Snape asked.
“Yes, Professor,” Harry prompted.
“I know what it is that you are dreaming of, from my earlier sessions with you. I have been there in that corridor myself many times. It is important that you do not let him get any further. I will not say the name of what he seeks- he probes my mind as he does yours,” he said while stroking his arm, “but he must not be allowed to have it. These techniques have given you have some power over your dreams; I ask you to use it, carefully.”
On that note, Harry left for Gryffindor Tower.
---
The “sleeping exercise” that Snape had assigned was simple, but not exactly easy. Snape told him that his mind was most vulnerable just before going to bed or just as he was awakening. Harry was to start thinking about one topic, then suddenly switch to thinking about something else, and to repeat this process several times before clearing his mind as he lay down to sleep.
Harry started that process by thinking about whether his Transfiguration essay was good enough to earn an E, then about what kind of earrings Luna would wear the next day, and then how Umbridge might learn about the DA meetings, and then finally about Hermione.
Over the last month, Hermione had seemed a bit… different from her usual. It seemed that she touched his arm a little more often during the meetings, leaned a bit closer to him during History of Magic, and sat next to him at dinner a bit more often than before. He wasn’t quite sure if any of those differences was significant or if they were figments of his imagination. On that note, his head hit the pillow and conscious thought left him.
Soon thereafter, he found that he was having one of those dreams about the black corridor. Over the last few weeks, he’d actually started to look forward to these dreams. He’d found that he could make the point of view hurry forward, stop, or even retreat. (He imagined how funny it would look to an observer, if there was one.) Once, he tried running straight ahead into the second door, which ended his dream immediately.
This time, however, something different happened. While moving along the corridor, he saw a narrow passage to his right. The letters HG, in gold, shone dimly from its entrance. He had never before seen a branch from this corridor, but this time he decided to take it.
As he continued along the branch, he noticed a change in the surroundings. The black stone walls and floor turned into grey steel, while fluorescent lights gradually replaced the blue torches that had provided illumination. The passageway twisted and turned, and with growing curiosity, Harry followed.
Eventually, he saw the end of the corridor opening into a larger room. In the doorway in front of him were two figures- a blonde woman in black and a red-haired man in khaki. He couldn’t see their faces, and when he called, he got no answer.
“This way, Ronald,” the woman said, sticking a wand in the man’s back. Harry recognized the voice immediately. The man complied, and Harry followed what were obviously Luna and Ron- or some version of them, anyway.
The passageway opened into a kind of conference room, with a high ceiling and a table in the center while six women he didn’t recognize immediately sat in chairs. Maps of Britain, Europe, and the world lined the walls, all colored red except for a splotch of yellow in the maps showing North America. Luna and Ron stopped fifteen or twenty feet from the woman at the head of the table, and Harry stopped several feet behind them, not that he was sure that it mattered.
“I have brought the American commander to you, Empress,” said Luna’s voice. “Kneel,” she instructed Ron, who complied.
The woman at the head of the table got up and slowly walked toward them, and Harry’s breath caught.
This woman was amazingly beautiful. She was extremely tall, several inches over six feet, as well as Harry could guess. High-heeled black leather boots covered her feet, while the rest of her body was encased within a black leather one-piece suit that looked painted on, and long black gloves reached to her elbows. Gold stars decorated her collar, but no other medals or signs of rank could be seen. She had two belts around her waist for some reason. She had strong legs, firm hips that swayed with every step, a flat stomach, and broad shoulders supporting a huge pair of breasts. Her face was equally magnificent, with a high forehead, long wavy dark brown hair, and penetrating brown eyes, and…
This was Hermione! Instead of her usual shuffle, she walked with the self-possession of the queen of the world (which, judging from the Empress comment, she might well be). Instead of her usual slightly nervous soprano, her voice was a commanding and seductive low alto.
“General,” the sort-of-Hermione intoned, “thank you for coming. I am glad that you have seen the folly of continuing to fight this war.”
“With all due respect, your Highness, in war as in chess, there comes a time when you have to resign,” the ersatz Ronald said in a broad Southern American accent.
“Indeed. I am glad that you have seen the light, General. If you sign this surrender and do one other thing, I will let you and your men go free.” With that, she produced a piece of paper from… somewhere, and let it drop. It slowly descended in front of her stunning legs to land at her booted feet, where a pen joined it. Ron bent down to pick them up.
“No,” Hermione announced. “You will sign from there, on the floor.” Scooting forward on his knees, Ron picked up the pen and signed the paper.
“And now that one more thing,” she continued. “You will kiss my feet and apologize for all the effort that you have cost me.” Again, Ron did as she asked, kissing each of her boots and stammering out that he would take blame for the war that had apparently been fought.
“You may go now,” Hermione announced. Ron scrambled to his feet and ran past- indeed, partly through- a mesmerized Harry and out the doorway.
“Ladies, there is a saying that it is more difficult to conquer the world than to rule it,” Hermione lectured as she returned to the table. “Tomorrow, I believe that we will find that it is also much more fun to rule! I shall address the peoples of the world as their one and eternal Empress, and I shall guide the world to greatness!”
As the applause from the other ladies died down, Hermione added, “Marshal Lovegood, you will join me. The rest of you may do as you see fit- our work here is done!”
As the other women dispersed, Luna joined Hermione at the head of the table. If Harry hadn’t already determined that the woman was Luna based on her voice, Harry might not have recognized her. Luna was only half a head shorter than Hermione- a full foot taller than she was in real life- and had a body almost as breathtaking as her Empress’. She was outfitted in the same way as her leader, with a black leather suit and those two belts.
Hermione led Luna to the world map covering an entire wall of the room. She waved her hand, and a door appeared in the South Pacific, through which both women entered. Harry followed close behind them.
After walking along for half a minute, they came across a single jail cell. The cell was well-lit and surprisingly spacious for a prison cell. Luna unlocked the door, and the three of them entered.
On the wall opposite the door hung a man. He was a tall, strong man, nearly as tall as Hermione. His hair and beard were unkempt and black, and he wore only a soiled loincloth around his waist. Heavy chains were attached to each wrist and ankle.
The two women strutted to either side of the prisoner. Hermione untied her upper belt, and Harry saw that this “belt” was in fact a leather whip, wrapped several times around her waist. Luna did the same with her upper belt. (Each woman’s lower belt contained a holstered pistol, a sword, and a wand.)
“Harry, did you see Ron sign the world away?” Hermione cooed, gesturing to what looked like a television monitor above the door.
With a shock, Harry saw the prisoner’s face… and found that it looked like his own. Actually, Harry thought the prisoner looked much more handsome than he did in reality. The prisoner wore no glasses, and had a strong jaw and high cheekbones beneath piercing green eyes. Harry could see the fire within them, and so could Hermione and Luna.
“Just think, Harry,” she continued softly, reaching a gloved hand under the prisoner’s chin. “You could have shared my throne and my rule… and so much more.” If her voice had been seductive before, it was liquid sex now. “You could have had pleasures the likes of which no man has ever enjoyed, and my generals would have done anything for you. And I mean anything.” With that, she reached across to Luna, and the two witches shared a deep kiss, with their tongues flashing and dueling like the swords on their belts. Their hands began to glide upon their leather second skins.
After a minute or so, the women stopped kissing. “But you simply wouldn’t let it be, Harry. And for that, I must punish you. Marshal, you may go.”
Luna walked toward the cell door. “Goodbye, Harry,” she said brightly- but she turned not toward the prisoner, but toward the Harry just inside the door, who had been observing the scene.
Hermione cracked the whip that she was holding, with a sound like thunder in the cell. As she did so, the chains supporting the prisoner’s wrists abruptly dropped to the floor. The prisoner was forced into a kneeling position before the Empress.
“And now you will serve me,” Hermione breathed. She drew her wand and drew a straight line across the lower belly of her suit, followed by two more lines stretching below the ends of the first. A flap of the suit covering her crotch fell open.
Underneath the suit, as Harry had guessed, there was nothing but Hermione. A very aroused Hermione, apparently- her labia were red with lust and blood, her clitoris was the size and nearly the color of a cherry, and the flap of leather that fell away was saturated. The prisoner crawled forward and began to lick and suck on the offered skin.
As Hermione moaned, the Harry by the door had seen enough. He walked forward, brushed the hair from the back of her neck, and kissed her. His hands wandered around her broad shoulders to feel those magnificent breasts.
Within a few seconds, Hermione shuddered in orgasm. She had never had a dream like this. Two Harrys to serve her for the rest of time! Two Harrys to…
Where did the second one come from? The prisoner in front of her was part of her dream, so the other Harry must be…
In two widely separated beds in Gryffindor Tower, two teenagers awoke in shock. Neither could get back to sleep again for the rest of the night.
---
The following morning, Ron Weasley was sitting at the Gryffindor table enjoying a hearty breakfast, as was his usual. He usually ran into at least one of his two best friends, but this morning they were nowhere to be found and breakfast was nearly over.
Just then, Harry and Hermione could be seen separately at the doors of the Great Hall. Ron called out to them, and slowly, they walked toward the table. The two sat down on opposite sides of Ron, carefully avoiding each other’s eyes. Neither had much of an appetite.
As she finished, Hermione said, “Good thing it’s Saturday. I’ve got a lot of reading to do. I probably won’t see you again for a while, so…”
Harry responded, “Could I talk to you, Hermione?”
“I’m sorry, Harry, but I’m going to be really busy, and I don’t think…”
“Just for a few minutes… Empress.”
Hermione immediately froze. “Well, if that’s what you need to talk about, I guess we can talk for a few minutes.” She grabbed Harry’s arm and they ran from the hall.
Ron stared after them, trying to figure out what had happened for a few seconds. They he shrugged and continued his breakfast.
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