A.N: This is another sample of the Dreamtime series. However, this one isn't a slash story. It's not like the other one, this one is much darker. Everything is things I dreamed in a very uncomfortable night. I was relieved when I discovered that it was a dream, and hadn't happend.

Any questions and constructive critism are highly welcomed. Also, I have no beta, and English isn't my native langue. So if you see any mistakes, please tell me about them, so I can make corrections.

Disclaimer: I would be highly flattered if you believe I write good enough to make you believe that I'm JK Rowling.

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True Names

I never told anyone what happened. Actually, I have written everything down many times and I wake up every morning and read the damn paper. And I don't believe it. I never believe it, before I brush my teeth and see the clip hanging on the mirror. For some reason it seems more real then.

The clip which reminds me of what I did. How many people who died. And I remember how it happened.

I was only 14 when a red eyed man used my blood to become alive. But this happened only 1 month later.

I was actually trying to sleep that night. It was very hot, and even though I had been told by Dumbledore to have it closed, I had to have it open. Hedwig and I needed air. If it had been closed, we would have died of the incredible heat. Even when it was open, it was hard to breathe.

Hedwig had moved out for a short period of time, she only came into her cage if she was delivering a letter.

When I look back I think that I should have sent her to Ron's place. After all, it would have been safer for us both if I had done that. But I wanted to have her near me. As a friend. I felt lonely without her near me.

One night, one of those long nights when I couldn't sleep she swooped inside. She hooted loudly, and flapped her wings frantically, telling me to get up. I hurried to get my shirt on, drew my wand before I silently went down to the kitchen.

There was no one in the house. Even my relatives were gone. It scared me. I wasn't used to be alone and Hedwig was scarring me as she hooted more and more.

I looked around the house many times over, but I could neither hear, smell or see someone. At the time, I wished that my senses were as sharp as Remus' werewolf senses. He would had known if there was something there, while I had little but any at all.

I searched and searched, but I found nothing. Nothing at all. "Calm down Hedwig." I told her.

It didn't really help; it only made me feel more vulnerable when I heard my own voice.

Suddenly, I covered behind the sofa in fear as I heard voices.

"Can you feel him?" an unknown male voice asked.

"No." another one answered. "Or, yes I feel that there is something inside there, but I can't tell if it's him or someone else." Much to my distress I discovered that I recognized the last voice. It was Lucius Malfoy.

As silently as I dared, I sneaked into the cupboard where I had stayed most of my childhood in.

"Isn't that very rare?" the other voice asked curiously. "That you can't recognize the person you're looking for I mean?"

Lucius laughed, and I heard the door creak open. I silently cursed myself for not locking the door. But what good was it for, I thought as I heard them step inside. They could have used magic to open the door, and then the owl from the ministry would find me for them.

Hedwig was silent now, as she understood that our survival was hanging in the thin thread of being discovered or not.

"Mr Junn, I can assure you that not feeling something is indeed uncommon, but it does happen." Lucius answered the other man, Mr Junn. I could almost hear the smile on the aristocrat who had nothing to do in this house.

"Why is that, sir?" Mr Junn asked. I could hear someone's breath and I knew that someone was standing very close to my cupboard.

"Well, there might be three reasons." Lucius said to the other man. "Mr Potter may not know his own name…"

Mr Junn interrupted, "But isn't that impossible? I mean, not knowing your own name makes you almost unable to live!"

Lucius sighed impatiently. "Yes, that is true. But do not forget that the child is an orphan. His mother was a despicable muggleborn witch; she probably never whispered the name to the boy. And even if she did, the boy might have forgotten it. And we must not forget that Dumbledore is protecting the boy." the last thing was said with so much bitter venom that I wondered what he meant with that.

"Another theory is that Potter may be blocked from himself. I believe Dumbledore has someone who can do that on his side, or maybe he's able to do it himself. The last one is… that Mr Potter might know my name."

Deadly silence filled the room I was in. Neither Hedwig or I dared to move in the dark space we were sharing.

Suddenly, I heard something drop to the floor, and I winced. Where did it come from?

The door to the cupboard was barged open, and a big, strong hand dragged me out of my hideout, and slammed me into the cupboard door. I heard Hedwig screech loudly inpain, before she went silent.

Lucius Malfoy threw me away and opened the door. He quickly gathered my owl in his hands, before he knelt beside me with the dead owl. "I am sorry." He apologised, as I tearfully took the snow white owl in my own, small hands. "I have lost many owls in my life and I know it hurts quite much."

I clutched her body as close to my chest as possible, trying to protect her corpse from harm.

"Listen, Mr Potter. I can't feel you or access your dreams. You probably heard that when I talked to Mr Junn over there." his blond hair swished in the hair as he nudged his head towards the door, where someone dressed in black was lying in a heap.

"Anyway." the man said nonchalantly. "I know what the real reason is." He grabbed my arm, and pulled me too my feet. "And trust me, I'll do anything to get my name back!" He snarled, and twisted my arm painfully behind my back, and pushed me into the wall.

"Tell me!" he grabbed my hair, and tugged it backwards.

"Why should I know name?" I whimpered in pain.

Lucius snorted. "Because I know almost every blocker in the world, and I can't recognize their powers on you." He told me coldly. "And I can't feel your precious headmaster keeping you alive, even though it could explain many things." He tightened the grip he had in my hair. "Now, be a good boy and tell it to me. If you do," he leaned closer and whispered into my ear. "I'll keep My Lord away from you."

"How?" I asked angry, but still a bit curious.

"Yes, Lucius, how?" a mocking voice copied my question. "How are you supposed to keep me from the boy?"

Lucius let go of my hair, and turned his head to meet the man who had used me in his plan to get his body back. "I put the wards down." He told the red eyed demon arrogantly. "I can kill anyone without having to be near them. The masses fear my powers, but they think you do the deeds!"

"You…" Voldemort snarled, and I heard a swishing of a hand, ready to attack. "You are lucky that I took you under my wings and taught you the skills!"

"You didn't teach me!" Lucius let go of me, and pushed me away as he turned towards Voldemort with his arms crossed. "You just let me teach myself! You locked me into that room full of people and let me work out how my powers worked! And you barely know my strenght. Trust me my Lord," the man spat the words out. "You won't hurt the boy unless I get what I want out of him!"

"I'll teach you to show me some respect, you dreamless whelp!!" Voldemort yelled, and fired a nasty bone cracker hex towards Lucius who stood there staring at the other man.

I winced and hurriedly covered my ears, as I prepared for the horrible sound of cracking bones. I was surprised, as I only heard the sound of laughter and a short scream. I discovered that in my fear I had shut my eyes, and I forced them open.

Voldemort laid on the floor his white skin looking like snow in the dark hallway. "It seems like that man won't hurt you anymore." Lucius said coldly. "Now you owe me a favour."

"I don't know your name. Why do you need the name?" My voice sounded more like begging than what it was. Truth.

He growled, and pulled me close to his chest. His arms were holding me in an iron grip, and no matter how much I fought, I couldn't fight myself out of it.

I screamed, as I felt something piercing inside my head. It wasn't like when Voldemort touched me that summer, it hurt way more. The thing was that it was only in my head, not my body as you are in the grip of a Crucio.

Another pain erupted into the one I already had. The pain was from not able to use own powers, blocked by something much greater than anything. Seeking a single word, a name. Asking others if they know it. They didn't.

It was then I discovered that I knew his name. I knew it. I was trying to tell Lucius to stop, because I knew the name. As the pain in my head was starting to make my eyes go blurry and my throat hoarse by screaming and sobbing violently, I tried to tell him.

But for some reason the word didn't tough my lips. "…" I said. "Your name is …!"

Instead of stopping, the pain increased. "TELL ME MY NAME!" Lucius bellowed, showering me with spit.

Suddenly, a white light tossed between us, and I felt the man let go of me. I fell to the floor and couldn't breathe properly. As I was slipping into darkness I heard names. Many names. I knew they were important, but I couldn't keep my eyes open, as I felt my head hit on the floor.

Hours later I woke up. I opened my eyes, and saw only something hovering over my face. "Easy," a male voice told me. "You hit your head quite hard."

Someone helped me to my feet, which were unsteady. Gentle strong hands sat me on a chair, and I could smell hot chocolate in the air. "Drink it," the same calm voice ordered, as it came closer. My fingers searched the handle and slowly I started to drink the heavenly beverage.

"Here," the male voice said gently, and gave me something which felt cold against my fingers. "I don't think you see that much without these."

I slowly put the glasses on my face, and things become much clearer. To my disbelief I recognised the face of the man who had given me such nice care. It's Lucius Malfoy.

For a minute I couldn't remember what he had done to me, but as soon as I did, I started running out in the street where I found…

Dead bodies.

I stopped dead in my tracks. There were four of them, lying limply in the street in different angles. I dully managed to grasp that they had to be dead. After all there was relatives around them, crying and trying desperately to wake them up.

"I wanted to warn you about this." Lucius whispered in my ear. I stood there, petrified. "You killed them, boy." He turned me around. "You made me kill them and therefore you are the real murderer." He taunted me with vicious look on his face.

He thrust a paper into my hands. "Read it." He snarled.

I opened the paper at a random page and started to read.

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Basic Truths about Nemo's

A Nemo is a person who can't dream. For some unknown reason these people are without true names, often called soul names. Magic is connected to dreams; therefore a Nemo will have much difficulty to master the simplest curse or hex. However, a Nemo will pull others to him or herself, stealing dreams and soul names from unknowing human beings, unlike normal human beings who cannot tell someone's name without telling their own first. If a Nemo learns his/her true name, said person will grow more emotional. After that, a Nemo regains his/hers natural magic back. There is also a rumour that the person will become a better human, since the soul is a moral compass, but this myth has never been confirmed.

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"You could have explained why you needed the name," I told him as I read the last paragraph, "How was I to know why you couldn't dream anymore?!"

Lucius bore his grey eyes into mine. "You didn't know what a Nemo is?"

"I haven't learned about that yet!" I shouted at him, frustrated. "How could I know that dreams only come to those who know their true names? And that name is the purest thing on earth!" I threw away the newspaper. It hit the dry grass. I didn't care that there was muggles who could pick it up. "According to that one I have to tell you mine to tell yours. Do you think that I'll do that?" I finished my rant, and looked him right into the eyes, my own voice as cold as I could master.

"Very well." The head of Malfoy Manor answered me, suddenly looking very resigned. "I'll leave." With that, he apearated.

It took four weeks before anyone could burry their own. They had to count all of the people who had died because of the incident before anyone was allowed to burry them. The reason why it took so long was probably that there was so many who had died. It didn't make anything better that a lot of people died everyday worldwide. There were a lot of papers to sign for the survivors. There wasn't many left of the old, respected families. Everything which wasn't willed away was given to the ones who had related and still alive, no matter how distant.

Then, when it was publicly announced that 7000 people had died because of the Nemo worldwide, the burying was allowed. I attended almost twenty of them, most of them in my friends from Gryffindor, the rest in the family grave's.

I saw Lucius again in the Black's funeral. Apparently it was easier to burry all of those who were related together. Therefore Narcissa and Draco was buried in the Black Grave, instead of The Malfoy's.

Personally I found the system quite stupid. After all almost every pure-blooded witch/wizard and most half-blood's were related in some way. But I think no one really felt like arguing at that time. They were too busy mourning the loss of their loved ones.

Once again, I discovered that I could hear a faint whisper in my head when a name was said aloud. I could hear their real names, or rather what that name had been. I had grown used to it by now, but it didn't mean I liked it.

"Bellatrix Lestrange." Mori.
"Andromeda Tonks." Tam.
"Narcissa Malfoy." Gran.
"Draco Malfoy." Char.

Suddenly, Lucius started crying. No, sobbing is more accurate. He started sobbing in the middle of the ceremony, and kept on doing it until the ceremony ended, and dinner was served. He went outside then, and he wasn't back when dinner was finished.

Then, I went looking for him. "This is ridiculous," I told myself. "Let him have your name, and his so you both can get over it!"

He was sitting by the grave, crying. At that point I felt as I was making a mistake. I had no right to stand there, behind him. He must have heard me because he said; "You know," his voice was heavy with sorrow. "They say that the day a Nemo cries, he's got a tiny fragment of his name back." He rose from his sitting position. He seemed older now.

"I heard your name," I told him. "Right before we…" I hoped my silence was enough.

He said nothing. I shook my head as I tried to get over it. "S-S-S-Sanvean." I stuttered. "My name is Sanvean."Lucius stared at me, as I told him my name.

"Yours is… Sol." He smiled weakly, and bowed to me.

When I got home, I wrote everything which had happened over the four weeks. Nothing was left unwritten, I even wrote down the names I remembered, with the public name as information of who they were. I know now that it's a crime to do so. Writing down dead names is a horrible crime. That's why I burned down the first copy. The next one was filled the very same day, but there were some names which didn't leave. And I can't leave it as I tell this story either.