Disclaimer: No I don't own Harry Potter or it's characters -I said it. You Happy?- They all belong to J.K. Rowling. Buuuuut I have all of the story rights and if you make use of them you better have a good lawyer and bla bla bla...
The usual.
Summary: It's sixth year at Hogwarts, and things change when Harry begins to dream unexpected
things that make him see Hermione in a new light. Sometimes, all you ever wanted is what you had had in front of you
all along. Ron is angry, Harry is confused and Hermione is unaware of what's happening. And they are falling. Just
that they don't know it yet. Plots, betrayals and discoveries that will push them to the edge of a Crystal
Trap.
Prologue: Retrospective Awakening.
To show the fly the way out the bottle? Break the bottle.
The world of dreams is a funny and changeable one. It can show you your heart deepest desire or your worst fear. It
hides the greatest of secrets and truths. And it's there for you to hold, every night. What you are, what you
desire, what you fear; everything within your reach.
You must only stretch you arm out and catch it.
If you really want to know, that is.
He couldn't with all his might distinguish who she was, but he knew he would die for her without thinking twice.
"Life is so ephemeral..." His lips curled into an evil smirk. He slided a rough hand trough the girl's delicate throat. One of his sharp nails cutting her porcelain skin. His movement drew a fine red line of blood from which flowed a single drop. The drop slipped down her neck to the valley of her breasts and disappeared underneath the white silk dress. His cat-like eyes never leaving the young man in front of him. "... so fragile."
"Don't-!" He shouted urgently moving forward instinctively, but he stopped dead in his tracks. His mind regaining it's control over his body, determined not to lose his composure.
This was it. He knew this was the final battle. Good against evil. Light against darkness. Order and chaos. A matter of life or death. No such thing as draw ever possible. He had knew long ago this day would come eventually. And he had thought he was ready. But he wasn´t.
If at least she wasn't here.
Like in fairy tales. The damsel in distress had been kidnapped and the knight in shinning armor had come to her rescue. Only this wasn't a fairy tale, this was a living hell.
Every muscle within his body taut and ready fighting the urge to protect her. He knew this was no moment for heroisms. The consequences were far too dangerous to be ignored. His pulse was racing by the second and his hair was sticking to his neck and forehead damp with sweat. The possibility of losing it all too real.
"Let her go!" He demanded at the top of his lungs. "She has nothing to do with this! It's me who you want! You have me right here!" Harry threw his wand away violently. "Here you have me! Let her go!"
Voldemort removed his hand from her throat and grabbed tightly her small chin. His other hand pulling her head back by the hair. Even thought he couldn't see her face he knew she had closed her eyes tightly in pain and fear. She left out a muffled cry. He heard her erratic and laboured breathing. Her chest going up and down quickly gasping for air.
"Are you telling me what to do?" Drawled the Dark Lord's hoarse voice. "I think you are not in position to give me orders, are you?"
"Alright," He nodded tentatively, trying to avoid his wrath. "Just... Just take me in her place. Think about it; It's me who you wanted from the beginning." He pleaded in a trembling voice. He pulled himself together trying to make sense. This had to work. "Take me instead of her."
"Harry don't...!" Her cry was cut off as Voldemort tightened his hold on her with new strength. "Uh," two tears of pain and helpless slipped down her cheeks.
"How moving!" Declared Voldemort sardonically. "Really moving indeed..." he trailed off thoughtful. "Tell me Potter, Do you love her?" he inquired. "After all, you have proposed exchanging your own life for hers. You'd do anything for her. She must be very important to you."
Harry didn't know if he liked the sudden turn of events. He looked at her alarmed and he felt her eyes upon him. At that very instant he knew the answer without doubt. "I love her." he stared meaningfully at her. "I love her more than I love anything in this world."
"Ju, just the same as your stupid father." the dark wizard seemed satisfied. Just by the look on the boy's face he could tell she was everything to him. "Just as stupid." he repeated slowly. There was a short pause. "Beg to me." snapped abruptly. "Beg me, for the life of the woman you love."
It didn't seem like an empty threat to him.
Harry didn't waver as he knelt before the man who had killed his parents and indirectly his godfather, who had tried to kill him on many occasions, who was threatening the woman he loved's life. He didn't care about revenge or pride as long as she was safe. Finally his forehead touched the tiled floor "Please, I beg you; let her go. Please, please, free her." His voice cracked with emotion.
"Um," He pretended to ponder over the situation. "You have convinced me Potter. You really have. So, I'm gonna set her free." Suddenly Voldemort let her go and pushed her toward Harry.
Harry looked up and felt as if someone had hit the air out of him. He saw in slow motion as Voldemort raised one hand and aimed his wand at her."No!!" He screamed and broke into a run to reach her in time. But he didn't seem to run enough fast.
God... Please. No.
"I'm gonna free her, straight away." Sentenced Lord Voldemort. A flash of green lightning went out Voldemort's wand and knocked her down from behind.
He saw her falling down slowly as a lifeless doll.
He saw her inert body hit the floor.
He fell upon his knees beside her and felt himself like dying at that very moment. She wasn't breathing. With trembling hands he reached out to her shoulder and turned her face up. Her body stirred to one side languidly. He saw her white dead face.
He screamed.
"Hermione!!" He yelled sitting up with suddenness on his bed. He looked around his surroundings. The room was dark and the sheets were wrinkled under him. He picked up his rimless specs from the small mahogany nightstand and put them on. Beside him, Ron was snoring loudly in a deep sleep and everyone else seemed immersed in a placid slumber. He recognized the place: the boy's dormitory at Hogwarts. No one had heard him.
He was soaked with sweat, panting and his heart pounded against his chest madly. He was dazed and confused. He stared at his own hands, where he had taken hold his best friend's dead body, for a while. The boy stood still for a moment trying to clear his thoughts. Then it hit him; it had been just a nightmare. This was reality.
It had been a dream. Only a dream.
Hermione was safe.
A wave of relief crept over him like an electric shock. Suddenly realization came over him, the girl in his dream had been Hermione, all along. He frowned thoughtfully. What did that mean? But he put the dismissed the thought hastily. Probably nothing. He thought to himself, after all it was only a dream. He was just worried for his best friend. He pulled the covers up round his head trying to sleep again, but the uneasiness and anxiety wouldn't disappear.
He hadn't developed the power to keep the visions away yet. Could that have been some sort of premonition? The future? It could even be happening at this moment. He felt sick. What was he thinking? It was official. He was going paranoid.
He resolved to light a candle and do some homework to make time. Homework? Wonderful, now he was sounding just like Hermione. He thought with a disbelieving smile. Hermione. Yet again. What was wrong with him lately? He sighed and turned around to look at his trunk where his invisibility cloak was, but turned back again shaking his head.
Not. even. think. about. it. Potter.
It was nonsense. There was no reason to do it. Better to get started with the homework. He lit a wax candle up with an impromptu incendio charm. Immediately, a dim circle of light lit the blackness of the bedroom up. He took his quill and ink pot out of the cherry wood desk, dipped the quill into the ink methodically and brought it closer to the sheet of parchment to start writing down. Just that he didn't.
Besides, Harry thought. What was he to say if she ever wake up? He could just imagine it. Hello, perhaps you are wondering why I'm observing you in the middle of night. Don't worry, I'm not a psychotic or nothing. I just happened to dream about you all of a sweat in a white silk dress and me declaring you my undying love for you. Oh! but don't worry we didn't do that I woke up before. Yeah, that would quite cover it.
He started to write down in his parchment, but ten minutes later he had rewritten the first sentence over forty times. Harry left the quill unceremoniously on his mahogany desk with a big sigh finally giving up. He blew the candle out, took the invisibility cloak hastily and sneak out of the dormitory as silently as he could.
Just a little peek.
This is crazy. Thought as turning the doorknob.
He has used the same old plan. He had used the invisibility cloak to wander freely around the castle without being seen. Simple but effective. It was a classic. He had lost count of the times the three of them had used it. But this time it was different. No matter how he tried, he wasn't able to get rid of the sense of guilt. A discomforting feeling was nagging at the back of his mind. And it was really getting to him. He had repetitively used it without any remorse. But this time it was something different.
He knew he was stepping on it. Whatever 'it' was. He was walking over a fine line, but didn't dare to look down. This was no normal. An ordinary friend didn't spy on his friends at night. But then, when had things been normal in his life?
Taking a deep breath Harry walked trough the dark ebony double doors of the girl's dormitory. He was violating the intimacy of her room.
No turning back now.
The first thing he noticed was the order which reigned over the room. While the boy's dormitory was a jumble of clothes and tons of books resembling a small-scale chaos; the girl's was the accurate definition of what a dormitory should be.
Some chairs were evenly distributed along the spacious room. And two velvet armchairs were in front the fireplace. All in all, it formed a fairly cozy and homely environment.
There were two bunks of quilted red covers in which slept four witches totally unaware of the male in their room. Four identical desks were placed against the opposite wall. But just by taking a look at them he could say which one belonged to Hermione.
On it's top a pile of books and a stack of written parchment sheets were neat and tidy ordered. An only heavy book,
dripping bookmarks, laid opened. He closed the book and his lips drew a nostalgic smile as his fingers caressed the
golden letters printed on it's cover; Hogwarts an History.
Something caught his eye; a portrait of a younger Ron, Hermione and himself beamed and waved happily. He remembered
clearly when that photo had been taken, it was at the end of first year. So many things had changed since then. Harry
sighed loudly and turned around slowly.
The moonlight filtered through the ajar bay windows, lighting the room with a ghostly splendor. Harry walked across the room to Hermione's bed.
Harry drew back the curtain with one hand and felt like dying. Right there and right then. He gasped for air. She was beautiful. Has she been that beautiful always? Could he have been that blind all along?
He took the invisibility cloak off cautiously as to no wake her up, sat down on a chair beside her bed -fortunately Hermione got the bottom bunk- and lent over her to watch her close up.
Hermione didn't have an exuberant or lascivious beauty but she was naturally pretty. She had a radiant smile and big brown eyes which more often than not showed compassion and worry for him. She understood him beyond words.
There was something, Harry thought, revealing and amazing about watching someone while sleeping, or maybe it was just Hermione. He reached out and removed a few unruly locks from her peaceful angelic face. She always was fighting to tame it but he secretly adored it. Instead of drawing his hand back to its place when he'd finished, he kept it caressing gently her soft skin.
He realized he had difficulty breathing.
He stared at her face, her eyelids were closed, and he wished she would wake up just to see her pretty cinnamon eyes. There were a few freckles in the bridge of her nose. And her forbidden lips were luring and attractive. What the hell was wrong with him? There was just a reasonable explanation. He was going mad. He was going complete and utterly mad.
"Tell me Potter, Do you love her?" Voldemort words still echoed in his mind. Was she important to him? Absolutely; Did he need her? More than air; Did he love her? Of course; How?... That was a question he wasn't ready to answer; at least not yet. "I love her," He had heard himself in the dream. And then what?, What if he had fallen in love with her best friend? What would happen?
The truth was he was dead frightened. He lacked courage. He laughed mentally at himself. He could face Voldemort without flinching and yet he couldn't build-up the courage to explore his own feelings.
He was pathetic.
The only thing he knew for sure was that he would before letting anything happen to her.
Harry lent over her even more until hovering mere inches apart. He examined with his deep green eyes the geography of her skin. "Tell me, Hermione..." His voice hardly a whisper, leaning so close to her that he could feel their breath mixing "What would happen...?" Harry closed his eyes shortening the distance between their lips.
Something brushed against his leg, Harry stood up violently and banged his head against the upper bunk. "Ouch,!" he cried out loud instinctively. He quickly cupped his mouth with his hands realizing his mistake. He didn't dare to breath. There's no need to panic. Harry thought in an attempt to calm himself down. But Hermione stirred lazily as muttering something intelligible under her breath. OK, there's need to panic. And then he did what any rational person would do in that situation.
He gave a pretty spectacular jump to the floor.
But he was Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived, not Neo and it wasn't a pleasant fall at all.
In fact, it was quite painful. Painful indeed.
Crookshanks - that probably had been what had scared the living lights out of him in first place- went through him and jumped on her owner's bed with feline agility. "Fuck!" He said under his breath as he felt the floor searching in the darkness for his invisibility cloak. Why had the invisibility cloak to be so damn... invisible?
Hermione opened her eyes and sat up on her bed. She turned her head left and right looking for the source of noise. Finally after scanning the dormitory, her eyes fell upon the being on her bed.
"Crookshanks?" She asked sceptically.
The deserted castle echoed to the sound of his footsteps. He flew downstairs to his destination.
After running at top speed through the dark hallway, getting past he magnificent columns in quick succession. Harry got into the boy's toilet -safe territory- he turned the tap on and splashed his face with cold water. His chest still going up and down widely, his lungs filling up with more than welcomed oxygen. He lent over the sink, his hands on both sides. stared at his own reflection in the mirror.
What have I almost done?
But no one answered him.
Prologue. End.
-Electrical Storm, performed by U2- A classic.
-Falls on me, performed by Fuel.- Try 'Shimmer' too, you won't regret it.
-Brand New Day, performed by Forty Foot Echo.- A beautiful ballad, one of my favorites.
-Someday, performed by Nickelback.- From his latest album. 'Too bad' from his previous album is not too bad too. Je je =)
-Echo, performed by Trap.- I just love the beginning of this song.
Some recommendations; just thought maybe you would like to know. If you are interested let my know it and I'll keep
up with it.
A/N: I'll make this simple;
Reviews= Happy Vicky= Faster chapters
Mathematics are inexorable.
HELP!! SOS! SOMEONE HELP ME!! AND... well you get the point. As you will have realize my mother language isn't English, actually I'm Spanish. And I need desperately someone who can read and correct the mistakes. I'll be eternally grateful to that person and of course, will give her/him the corresponding credit in every chapter.