Chapter 192: Dreams (2/2)

The candles had all been extinguished in the common room. The room was mostly dark. She was heading straight to her dormitory when she heard someone mumbling weird things.

”I can open it. . . Only I can. . .”

Chris looked around and saw Harry was dozing in his armchair in front of the fireplace. Crookshanks was lying flat on his lap and his glasses were about to fall from his face.

”So close. . . A little more. . . I can open. . .” He was still muttering.

”Harry,” Chris called as she kneels beside him and caught his glasses.

”Just a little further. . .” He mumbled.

”Harry,” Chris repeated and poked him in his face.

Harry awoke with a start.

”Whozair?” said he, sitting upright in his chair.

”Me,” Chris said flatly standing up.

”Chris?” Harry said narrowing his eyes to see. He was looking for his glasses.

”Here.” Chris handed him the glasses and he put them on.

”We need to stop meeting like this.” Harry grinned.

But Chris did not smile.

”What were you trying to open?” She asked seriously.

”What?” Harry gave a puzzled look.

”In your dream. You were mumbling words like 'a little further, so close, I can open it.' What were you dreaming about?” Chris said and sat down in front of him.

”Er. . . Just a nightmare.”

”Oh, so what happened in that nightmare?”

”It's a common nightmare. I'm having it for months now. I'm waking along a windowless corridor. There was a door at the end of the passage. I wanted to open it to go through it but every time I got close to it — I wake up.”

”But why do you want to open it so badly?”

”No idea.” Harry shrugged.

”You want to go through the door but you don't know why?” Chris raised her eyebrows. ”Do you recognize the corridor or the door?”

”I think, but I can't remember where is it.” Harry sighed.

”You know Harry that our dreams aren't normal like others, don't you?” Chris said quietly.

The concern in Chris's voice made Harry worried.

”Yeah, I know but don't worry it's nothing special.” He protested.

Chris looked at him.

”Alright, maybe it is something but I don't know exactly what,” he said. ”So how about this, I will talk about it as soon as I remember where have I seen the door?”

Chris sighed.

”Be careful,” she got up. Then stopped, ”and we have the first meeting on Thursday. Seventh floor, eight o'clock. Don't be late.”

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To be continued...