The Hufflepuff common room was full of studying puffs as the evening rolled on. Orin had staked an early claim on the big puffy arm chair next to the fire. It was the most isolated place to sit in the common room with a small end table stacked with Orin’s books and parchment. The arm chair faced away from the common room as a whole, and with his noes in his books, Orin didn’t realize it was nearly midnight and he was alone.
Orin’s head drooped momentarily in sync with his eyelids, his small step into the dream world snapped him upright. He shook his head to attempt to physically remove the sleep from his mind. The futile effort was backed up with his large wide mouth yawn. Orin stretched his arms wide and set his book on the top of the stack. He stood, fully stretching his cramped body. He looked around at the empty chairs and sighed. The silent and vacant common room was a small snap shot of a common room no one ever saw but Orin the insomniac. His stomach growled hungrily, distracting Orin from the erie dusty air about the common room. He yawned lazily and made for the exit of the room. The Hufflepuff common room was nearly 25 meters away from the kitchen entrance, so it wasn’t unheard of for Orin to meander over after one of his midnight night terrors or on a night he couldn’t sleep. He stepped out from behind the barrels and walked down the dungeon corridor to the painting of a large bowl of fruit. The ripe green pear was exactly what he was looking for, he tickled the fruit softly and then grasped the knob as it formed. Carefully Orin stepped inside the kitchen. The five large tables sat exactly as they did in the Great Hall just one floor above them. The Hufflepuff scanned the room for a snack. An apple, or even some bread with butter, just something to stop his stomach from grumbling so he could go to sleep. As he scanned he noticed a bowl of fruit sitting on the Hufflepuff table across the room. If Orin had been a clever boy he would have noticed it was the same bowl of fruit from the painting. Hungrily, he grabbed an apple from the top and sat down at his house table. As if the table was a Port key, Orin was suddenly sitting at the actual Hufflepuff table apple in hand. Standing as he bit into the apple, Orin looked around the Great Hall. He was confused, but not surprised, the magic behind the tables must be touch activated he explained to himself. The air of the Great Hall was always tense with magic, but tonight was different. The magic in the room was crackling around Orin, almost like music. Suddenly it was music, a soft waltz played with an air of laughter. Out of the corners of his eyes Orin could see dancers. Couples moving to the music. He spun around frantic, his mind not sure how to process what he was seeing. He looked up to the enchanted celling of the Great Hall, hoping to see the clear sky of an early October night, but Snow fell as if in the depths of winter. Orin ran for the door, his heart pounding, his vision crowded with witches and wizards enjoying a gala of some sort. Orin’s eyes bounced around, trying to find answers in anything. Looking up as he ran, a large banner hung above the door. The letters seemed to move, but the words stayed. ‘Happy New Year’ in carefully written letters hung above him. When he finally made it to the door, Orin pulled with all his might, but it didn’t budge. He knelt down curling around his knees knowing now that this couldn’t be happening. He must be dreaming, his cursed waking dreams that he could never understand. The people around him danced and laughed louder, and the music grew louder. The whole room seemed to vibrate with noise. Then in a single moment, silence. Orin had wrapped his head in his arms doing his best to forget what was happening, but with the eire quiet he slowly pulled his shield down. He hesitantly looked around the room. The guests were standing still, frozen, with a ghostly haze over them all. A single person in full color, with their back to Orin and right arm raised up with a wand pointing to the sky. The Dark Mark bloomed in the Ceiling above, dark, green, and menacing. At the lone figures feet, bodies littered the floor, some had masks and some Orin nearly recognized. A shrill scream erupted from every corner of the room. It grew louder until the sound was deafening, Orin squeezed his eyes shut so hard they began to water.
“Orin? Orin?!” Leia, a small brunette in Orin’s year, shook his shoulders. Orin snapped upright, his back ridged with fear. Tears dripped down his cheeks, landing on the pages of the book in his lap.
“Orin, you fell asleep,” She smiled sweetly. “Every one else is going to bed Orin. I think you should too,” She nodded. Orin nodded back, blinking the last of the water from his eyes.
“Thank you Leia,” His voice was small but Leia understood. “I’ll be up after,” Orin trailed off motioning with his empty hand to the pile of course work he had to relocate to his room.
Leia smiled softly and left Orin alone in the common room. “Sleep Well,” She chimed in her soft reassuring Irish accent that made Orin feel better, even if it was only marginally. Orin took a large breath in and sighed. It was just a dream, but were his dreams ever only dreams? Were the muddy boot prints in his dorm room late at night real? Was the dirt under his finger nails real? Were the scrapes and bruises he didn’t ever remember getting real? Orin’s heart sunk when his eyes landed on the apple in his hand, he turned it over and stared at the chunk missing. The chunk he’d eaten in the dream. He swallowed hard and packed up his things. After getting himself into bed, Orin set the mysterious apple on a shelf next to his bed. He stared at it as he tried to fall asleep, hoping not to have another dream like the last.