The Sense

Note: You people are good at reviewing! Thanks! Many of you make some good points and I promise I WILL address them all in the story. It's still in the works, so it won't be too hard to answer your questions within the story itself. If I can't do that, I'll try to have Reviewers Response thing. But for now I think I got it. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this...

A whirlwind of images flooded Hermione’s mind and seemed to push all of her own thoughts out of her head. A little boy on his knees, pleading that he never get sent away from the school. The same boy, a little older, glaring silently at his entire table. The boy even older now, sneering in the most malicious manner Hermione had ever witnessed. It made the worst Malfoy sneer look boyish and adorable. The change in this one person’s mind was enough to buckle her knees, and she banged her elbow painfully against a side table as she collapsed. The torrent of images stopped.

“Are you all right, Miss Granger.” Dumbledore asked. Hermione, still shaking from the assault, nodded grimly.

“Who…who was that?”

It was a little over a week after Harry’s birthday and Dumbledore had surprisingly made the effort to come several times. They assumed he spent most of his summer at Grimmauld Place with the Order. Black Manor had been passed down to Harry, but he refused it. It was too painful to own the house of his dead godfather. In which case, the house was given to Tonks, a cousin of the Blacks, who thus christened it Official Order of the Phoenix Headquarters, or "OOPH" as she fondly called it. Unfortunately this made it more difficult for Harry and his friends to snoop in on meetings, since they were staying at The Burrow. It seemed after these meetings Dumbledore would make his way to The Burrow and spend an hour with Harry on Occlumency and another hour with Hermione. He was curiously determined to have Harry and Hermione master their respective practices. Neither teenagers gave this much of a thought though, since they both were as determined to learn as their Headmaster.

It was common knowledge in the house that Harry was taking his Occlumency, and doing so much more diligently than he had in 5^th year with Snape, but everyone was curious to know what Hermione was doing in that hour with Dumbledore. Hermione refused to tell anyone and she knew she could trust Dumbledore to do the same. What Hermione was doing was learning to control her Sense, under Dumbledore's instruction. After only three sessions she was already able to sit at the dinner table without cracking. Mrs. Weasley assumed that Dumbledore was curing Hermione of whatever ailed her after her accident and making her feel better. Little did she know that Dumbledore was throwing rapid-fire memories at Hermione in an effort to strengthen her mind. It was like building a wall, to protect her own mind from outside assault. The wall was relatively weak at this point, but it was definitely improving. This allowed her to almost "switch" off the Sense at whim.

“You do not know who that boy was?” Dumbledore’s eyes seemed to smile sadly.

Hermione stared at the Pensieve from which Dumbledore had drew the thoughts. “V-Voldemort?”

“Not quite. You were reading the sense I got from a boy named Tom Riddle.”

“But aren’t they the same person?” she asked. "...Sir." Hermione never really felt comfortable alone with her Headmaster. It wasn't that he was threatening in any way, it was just intimidating to know you were in the presence of one of the most powerful wizards of the age.

Dumbledore sighed and put his wand down gingerly. “That, Miss Granger, may now be put up to debate…”

“Right.” Hermione gulped. She had looked briefly into the mind of a young Voldemort. It gave her a dirty feeling, like she had just entered a crack house.

“Would you like to have another go, Miss Granger? You’re progress is very impressive indeed. At this rate you will have no trouble entering the Great Hall this September.” Dumbledore took up his wand again.

“The Great Hall…” Hermione echoed in disbelief. She had completely forgotten she would have to enter a room full of hundreds of students. Hundreds of minds. Of teenagers, no less. “…Professor, do you really think I can?”

“I have confidence in you.” Dumbledore stated plainly. “And really, I can not have my Head Girl afraid to enter the Great Hall. How strange would that be?”

Hermione smiled. Then his last words penetrated her mind and her eyes widened.

“Head Girl? Me?”

“That’s up to you.”

“Wha - oh Professor!” Hermione jumped up and gave Dumbledore a hug. He looked mildly surprised, since he was not hugged too often, but decided to hug her back gently. “I’d love to be Head Girl!”

“It’s settled then.” Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled. “I have about fifteen more minutes, would you like another go?”

Hermione nodded determinedly. “Give me your best shot...Sir” she added.

Dumbledore moved his wand in a circle over the Pensieve, causing the liquid inside to rise in a small, swirling vortex. “Venanime!”

A swirl of silver rose above the vortex and wafted directly at a waiting Hermione.

~*~

“Hi Hermione, what are you doing?” Ron bumped into Hermione in the hallway after her and Dumbledore’s session. Ron’s curiosity forced itself into Hermione’s head. She bit her lip for a moment and willed it away, practicing the skill she had just improved upon with Dumbledore. Soon it was gone. She did it. And near effortlessly, at that. She couldn't help but beam proudly in the hallway, as Ron looked on in confusion.

“Hermione? Hello?” Ron waved his hand in her face. Hermione blinked and smiled.

“Oh, nothing. Just came back from Dumbledore."

"What have you two been doing, anyway? I know Harry's got his Occlumency, what do you keep training in there for?" Ron asked. The question had been plaguing him for days, and he had turned asking her into a sort of habit. It also kind of made him feel a little left out. Which he understood was pretty stupid, since private lessons with the Headmaster was very far down on his list of "Cool Things to Do in the Summer". Still, though, his two best friends were obviously preparing for things and, though he intended to be there with them every step of the way, he was prepared for nothing.

"I'm sorry, Ron, but it's really none of your business."

Ron made a face. Then he blinked as if realizing something and blanched at whatever thought he had conjured. Hermione decided to open her mind back up to Ron, out of curiosity. She was not greeted by a pleasant sight.

"Oh my - RON!" Hermione flushed a deep purple at what was going on in the redhead's mind and punched Ron hard in the shoulder. "We are not doing THAT! You SICK little creature!!" She stormed off down the hall, wishing desperately that she could block out the scarring images of what she and Dumbledore were engaging in inside Ron's head. She silently swore to never ever look inside that Weasley's head ever again. "And stop worrying about it, just send your stupid love letter to Luna already!" she yelled over her shoulder as a vindictive afterthought.

Ron watched her go, a bewildered look on his face. His hand shot to the bit of parchment sticking out of his pocket, the letter he was debating whether to owl Luna Lovegood. Harry appeared beside him,

"What happened? Why was Hermione yelling?"

"I'm not sure...Harry, why do you think Hermione sees Dumbledore all the time after your Occlumency lessons?" Ron turned to face him.

"I figured Dumbledore was filling her in on her Head Girl duties or something."

"Oh, she's Head Girl then?" Ron pondered this.

"I haven't been told yet, but honestly who deserves Head Girl more than her?"

"Right, mate." Ron nodded. It made sense. Really, if anything could shake Hermione out of the funk she had been lately, it would be the news that she had been made Head Girl of Hogwarts.

"The news would make her feel better. She has been acting normally. I noticed it started after she started seeing Dumbledore."

Ron nodded thoughtfully. "Loads better. Way better. But...have you noticed she's getting...smart?"

Harry stared at his friend. "Um, Ron? It's Hermione."

"No, I mean...just now..."

"What?"

"Oh, never mind."

~*~

Harry knew Ron was right. He didn't want to confirm whatever he was thinking, but something truly was going on with Hermione. She always was perceptive, but now it was getting odd. She would know who walked into the room without turning around and looking. She always knew who was hogging the bathroom, even though she had just gotten out of bad. She knew what people were going to say before she said it. And she was becoming more isolated. Chats with her that normally could last hours spanned all of five minutes before she started to blush about something and make excuses to leave. It seemed the only person she could talk to normally was Dumbledore himself, and this disturbed Harry. There was something going on with her that she could trust only Dumbledore with, and not him and Ron.

Then again, Harry realized it might be a little hypocritical. Over a year had passed and he still hadn't revealed The Prophecy to anyone, and like Hermione, Dumbledore was the only other person who knew his secret. But it weighed heavily on Harry, knowing that Hermione might be hiding something as serious as his Prophecy. He wanted badly to know what it was; he didn't want Hermione to suffer like he was. But he knew it was a no-go. If he got Hermione to tell him what's going on, it wouldn't be right to hold the same kind of information from her. Harry weighed his options. He sat on Ron's bed for a full fifteen minutes doing so.

"I can't." Harry whispered. "I can't tell her..." He punched the mattress in frustration. If he couldn't overcome whatever was keeping him from telling his friends, then he had no right in forcing Hermione to reveal her secret. Damn the Gryffindor honor. Damn it to hell. He got up angrily and went into the hallway, looking for Ron. Maybe a rousing game of Wizarding Chess would cheer him up. Or a nice Bludger to the head. Suddenly he heard a voice drifting into the Weasley hallway.

"I'm getting loads better at blocking it out. It's so amazing. I can be normal again." Hermione's excited voice said.

Harry contemplated leaving her alone to talk, but his curiosity got the best of him. Who was she talking to, anyway?

"Yes, I know. I will have to some day. They are my friends, they deserve to know. I really do trust them..."

Harry grew hot. He felt guilty again. Which, unknowingst to him, is usually a beacon that completely blows his spot.

But not now.

He approached the door of Ginny's room and knocked on the doorframe. "Hermione?"

There was a clanging noise, as if something was dropped and the sound of fluttering wings. He heard Hermione's soft socks patter against the wood floor and her flustered face poked out of the room.

"Harry! Oh, hi, what are you doing out here?" Hermione was confused. Why hadn't she sensed him coming? She usually knows when someone is getting closer to her because she could feel their emotions getting clearer. And her mental block wasn't up, she had been talking to Hedwig. There was no reason for her not to sense Harry approaching.

Was Harry a Sensor too?

No, of course not. First of all if he had not been sensing Hermione, since she was also a Sensor, he most certainly would have confronted her by now. Second of all, Sensors were very rare. It was already astronomical that two would be living under the Hogwarts roof come September. Something else was amiss.

Harry smiled at her. "So who's in there? Ron?" He took a step towards her, trying to hide the fact that he was extremely jealous that she would tell someone else what was going on before telling him.

"Ah, no..." Excuses raced through her head, each more stupid than the last. There was no way she would be able to explain her talking in a room with an owl this time. Harry stood next to Hermione and peeked in the room. It was empty. Hedwig was gone. Hermione looked surprised and looked around, as puzzled as Harry. She must have flown out the window.

"Oh..." Harry forced a straight face. "Hermione, are you positive you are okay?"

I will not read Harry's mind. I will not read Harry's mind. Hermione repeated over and over in her head. This did not look good.

"Absolutely fantastic. I was just writing a letter and talking out loud as I wrote, is all." Hermione explained lamely. There was not a quill or parchment to be seen.

"Oh..." Harry bit his lip, a newly formed habit. He was genuinely worried now. All doubts about it left his mind. He had to find out what was wrong with Hermione. And to do that, he would have to reveal his own biggest secret. He glanced once again around the empty room were Hermione was talking. There really was no question about it.

"Listen, I've got to tell you something..." Harry gently shut the door, the thought of getting Ron in on it completely escaping him. Hermione looked concerned and resisted the urge to probe his mind and find out in advance what he would say. He put his hand on hers unconsciously. They both stared at their touching hands and instinctively pulled them away, red in the face. Even with her Sense in control, she could not hide from the strange feelings coming from Harry. He sat down on the bed, next to her. Suddenly feeling too close to her, he inched away slightly so their bare knees didn't touch. Why was he acting like this, as if he had never sat next to Hermione before?

It must be nerves. I'm nervous about telling her. Harry convinced himself. He cleared his throat. "Remember in 5th year..."

BANG! BANG! BANG! Someone pounded frantically at the closed door. Hard. The door seemed about to explode into splinters. The two looked at each other.

"Um, sorry Harry, sounds like God is at the door." Hermione got up to let in whoever was banging.

Ron burst in, out of breath, practically tearing the door off its hinges. He didn't even pause to gape at his own strength or realize that he had almost slammed Hermione another head injury.

"There's been an attack!"