Harry Potter- dreams within dreams

[thrihyrne]

So I was “in” a Harry Potter movie this time, which ended up being an awful bloodbath, but Harry apparently did save everyone, but also some of the other saviors were people who could rollerskate backward. *heavy sigh about my subconscious, which really needs tuning* There were a couple of cool moments in it before Ron, Hermione, someone’s grandmother (I hope it wasn’t Neville’s, but who else?) and myself, who had just been in one of those large swing things that had been pulled up to the 1000th floor in some hotel, and Harry had gotten out but the rest of us hadn’t, we looked up at the ceiling (this was a HUGE hotel, the kind with a mini-mall and whatnot) and saw a massive handprint, as though it were being pressed on from the outside. Voldemort, of course. And then the swing was let go. Now friends, even when one knows one is dreaming (because even in the dream, I knew I was dreaming because I would never get to hold Ron’s hand in a movie theater and have to keep batting Hermione’s away [I had forced her to sit a row behind us]), the sensation of free-dropping that much to a marble floor is rather unpleasant. So I was trying to wake myself up before that happened, which didn’t work, hence the backward roller-skating folk. I was part of the large group of temporarily dead people who somehow managed to come back to life. Then I woke up- sortof.

I was still at said huge megahotel, and it was morning. I had had a bad dream, which I knew, because I’ve certainly never been a Mary Sue in a Harry Potter film. But it was the end of a school/choir tour thing, and I was about to go downstairs to get breakfast with a friend of mine (an acquaintance from college IRL who I haven’t thought about in ages) and somehow *did* manage to freefall the entire way to the floor, this time without the swing. And landed on my back. The back of my head hurt. And yet, otherwise I was okay- my friend found me and helped me up (the hotel was mostly empty; apparently it was early) and I spent a goodly while rubbing the back of my head. What slays me about all of this is that I then proceeded to tell her about the Harry Potter dream and how somehow I had known I was going to fall which was why I had dreamed about it the night before.

[interlude- Mr. Thev just came by, sighed, said, “Not another Harry Potter dream? I really think you need to decrease your Harry Potter time.” Okay, sure. You get in my head and tell me how to stop thinking about it, other then finishing the twinfic for me, Mr. Smarty Pants. Or the dark, angsty triolet that I started and had hoped to finish last night but I got hung up on the drug use part of it, since I haven’t done such and he has, so I was quizzing him. Besides, I did dream about the upcoming Scotland trip two nights ago, so nyahhh. Perhaps it would be better for me to imagine shagging some scrumptious Scottish morsel? I think not. Back to dream.]

The “real life dream” hotel actually segued into an airport, not a minimall, now that I remember it. She had some luggage and a spare cell phone, so she went off somewhere but dialed the number of a nearby specialist, but he was a psychologist, not a physical doctor, and handed me the phone. The guy said that many people survived falls like that, and I should just rest. So I did, in one of those airport gate waiting areas. I was there a couple of hours and it got all busy- she never came back up, but eventually I took the bag and was about to go back up to my room to pack (because surely I was leaving and I was in an area for some small regional Texas Airline, like San Antonio Air, I think) and ran into a friend who said, “There you are! X, Y and Z have been looking for you- since they couldn’t say goodbye, they wrote you notes on this bench.” So I stood for awhile, reading these farewell messages on a bench made out of that formica stuff you used to have in grade school that you can write on in pencil. One was from an ex boyfriend whose remained a friend of mine and he and his wife are newly expecting, so he’s been on the mind IRL. It was a very sweet message, but now I can’t remember it.

When I woke up, it was reassuring to be able to rub the back of my head, and it not hurt. I think it would also help if Mr. Thev didn’t snore, and if I weren’t already a light sleeper (because don’t you do you dreaming not in that really heavy sleep, but the inbetween stages?) and if our bloody cats didn’t insist on scratching things, chewing on my hair, and me forcing to use the spray bottle on them to get the point across and me fall fitfully back to sleep.

And no, all of this fear of falling has nothing to do with the fact that I was typing up my itinerary and looking at how many plane flights I have coming up. Because I love to fly. *cough* Maybe I should call American and ask if there are menu possibilities and what movies they show, if any. The only airline I've ever flown to Europe is Icelandair.

Back to your regularly scheduled days.

Comments

[llembas.livejournal.com]

I love your crazy dreams! I very rarely have any that are fandom related. It's like that part of my brain is cut off from dreaming.

I'm beta reading your story now, should get it back to you later tonight, or tomorrow.

Dreams and beta

[thrihyrne.livejournal.com]

Be grateful that you don't have the dreamlife I do. It can get terribly confusing!!

I'll look forward to the beta- thanks again for taking it on; I hope it wasn't too awful. I may have angsty R/S with a side of Snape coming up, but it won't be long enough to warrant beta'ing.

Sent you a fun package a couple of days ago- hope you enjoy! ♥