Unofficial Portkey Archive

Somnium Insidiae
by cali-chan.

#4

She felt her heart stop as she saw him walk out onto the rocky grounds. He looked so small, so insignificant compared to that gigantic monster that was attacking him, the wind playing with his dark hair... she couldn't help but feel nervous. She knew he would make it, but at what price? And she couldn't do anythng to help him at that moment, she could only watch. After seeing him move from one side to the other, as fast and agile as an eagle, she finally covered her face with her hands, thinking that it was too much to ask herself to watch all of that without worrying. She had already decided to go down to the grounds when the sound of ecstatic screaming and people's applause made her turn and look again; and immediately her heart started beating again. He was alive! He was okay! And he had made it! Euphoria welled up inside her and she felt herself smile...

And above the noise, her alarm clock rang.

Hermione open her eyes, still a little sleepy, and looking into the big red digital display, she asked herself why she'd programmed her alarm clock to wake her up at such an ungodly hour. It only took her a couple of seconds to rememner: her school was taking her and some others students from her class to a field trip down to a new, international-level water treatment plant that had been recently installed down south, in Surrey. Hermione, thinking that it would be perfect as an extra-credit assignment to make her way easier towards the advenced analytical chemistry class, had run to write her name and Dylan's on the list.

Hermione had been excited the whole week. Sice she was always willing to learn new things, it was the perfect cultural experience for her. Dylan was not as excited, obviously, but he'd kept his mouth shut for her, without complaints, acting like he couldn't wait for the field trip. But no matter, the fact was that they were going to spend the whole weekend together. It wasn't a stretch of the imagination to think that Mr. Granger wasn't very happy about that...

Always thinking ahead, she'd fixed her bags the previous night. Knowing that Dylan would wait until the last minute to do so, she took her time getting ready.

When she went down for breakfast, she decided to take a couple of analytical chemistry that she'd bought the previous day with her; it was always good to be prepared before a class, she thought, and this wasn't the exception. Her mother, who was standing by the stove, making pancakes, smiled at her as she sat down, the book open beside her.

"Good morning, Hermione. Ready for the trip?"

Hermione nodded, reminding her that she'd been waiting for this day to arrive for a while. Mrs. Granger served the pancakes on a plate and both fell into a comfortable silence as they ate. Mr. Granger wasn't around, presumably taking a bath to get to their practice early.

The quiet gave Hermione the opportunity to let go of the academics for a while and meditate about her strange dreams. She felt very weird about it... The images didn't seem to have any type of continuity, they came with different locations and situations each time, unrelated...

Except for the green-eyed boy.

He was a constant in all of them. Each night since the dreams began, he had made his appearance in her subconscious, confusing her more each time. She was almost a hundred percent sure that the boy in question didn't exist. She could almost swear by it without a doubt, because of all the fantasy she found in the dreams. For example, that very night she had seen him fighting some kind of monster... something that was completely impossible in reality...

On the other hand there was also the strange connection she felt with the young man. Was that possible? To feel worry, respect, even care about an imaginary individual? She couldn't help but feel that maybe if she looked for him she would find him, somewhere...

"Honey, are you okay?"

Hermione jumped when he heard her mother's voice again. Trying to appear normal, she tried to make it look like she'd been completely focused on her reading. "Of course, Mum. Why do you ask?"

"You've been reading the same page... I'd say the same line... for the last five minutes."

"Oops," she muttered under her breath. Well, there wasn't any time for a back-up plan. Taking between her hands a cup of hot cocoa that she could've sworn wasn't there a minute ago, she sighed. "Mum... I think I'm going crazy."

Mrs. Granger, who had never heard such a phrase come out of her daughter's mouth, arched a brow, curious. "Crazy? Why do you say that?"

"I've been having... these dreams..."

Her spirit of a woman of science came up immediately in the woman. "What kind of dreams?"

"I wouldn't really know how to explain them," the girl began, leaving her cup on the table after taking a sip of cocoa. "They're always different, and I can't really remember the details in the mornings... the only common factor is... well, there's this boy," she finished, blushing a little.

"A boy? Not Dylan?" she asked, somewhat surprised. It had taker her daughter long enough to get her face out of the books long enough to notice Dylan, and suddenly she wasn't thinking of one, but two boys. "Do I know him? Who is he?"

Hermione frowned, leaning her arms on the table. "That's the problem, Mum. I don't even know who he is."

"Are you sure?" Mrs. Granger asked, finally turning off the stove and sitting at the table with her daughter. "Maybe you met him at one point, but you can't remember him..."

"I don't think so, Mum," she replied, shaking her head. "You know my memory is almost eidetic..."

The woman nodded with a sigh. "You're right..." she leaned back as she crossed her arms, deep in thought. "And how long have you been having these dreams, Hermione?"

The girl mimicked her mother's posture unconsciously. "Uh... I don't know... a month, maybe more..."

Mrs. Granger frowned, thinking hard. She still felt skeptical, but it was too much of a coincidence that such a pattern could occur in someone's dreams. She'd only heard about such a thing when people had recurring nightmares about their deepest fears that were supressed by their subsonscious... but her daughter didn't seem to be afraid, and she had no idea who this person was... "I'll tell you something, sweetheart," she proposed, her weight on her elbows on the table in a business-like posture. "If these dreams keep popping up, I can take you to get professional help..."

Hermione bit her lip, unsure. Would she feel comfortable talking about this with a psychologist? She opened her mouth to reply to her mother that she'd wait a while and then see if she decided on going or not, when the doorbell rang.

"Oh, that must be Dylan!" she exclaimed, picking up her stuff from the table and standing up. She hurried to the door with her book under her arm, and she found the blond boy peeking inside.

"How did you get in?" she asked him.

He shrugged. "Door was open."

Hermione frowned, but Dylan didn't give her time to think of an explanation because he wished her a good day with a kiss. "I won't even ask if you're ready, because I know you are. Shall we go?"

"One moment! Stop the carriage!" Hermione's father was coming down the stairs, ready to say goodbye to his daughter. Her mother walked out of the kitchen with the same idea, carrying the bag that contained the girl's books. With some effort she passed it to her and Hermione put it beside the bag that contained her clothes.

"I'll see you sunday," she said, kissing her daughter's forehead. "You too, Dylan. Have fun."

"If you have any problems, just call," her father told her. And with that he turned to the boy, throwing him a threatening glare. "And you better not try anything... funny. Understood?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Dad, it's like you don't know me at all. Dylan and I have been sleeping under the same roof for the last six years and we've never..." She cut herself off when she noticed that everybody was looking at her weird. "What? Did I say something wrong?"

"Uhhh... Hermione... you and I have NEVER slept under the same roof," Dylan reminded her, emphasizing the word never to reassure Mr. Granger, who looked more intimidating by the second.

"I know... Did I say that?" Hermione blinked in confusion. "I meant to say that we've lived close to each other for the last six years. My tongue must've had a lapse." Her father didn't seem very relieved anyway. Hermione looked at her watch. "It's late. We'd better go, if we don't want to miss the bus." Dylan nodded and they left for school after just a little more words of farewell.

It was getting dark when the group made it back from the treatment plant. Just as she'd thought that morning, it wasn't a very big group; barely six people besides her and Dylan, and two professors acting as chaperones. As they walked down the main avenue to reach the bus they'd hired for transportation, professor Jeevers asked them questions to make sure they'd paid attention.

Hermione and Dylan had lagged to the back of the line, holding hands and walking in silence. Normally Hermione would be the first one to raise her hand to answer any questions, but that day she was strangely introverted.

"...And I hope that at least one of you can remember the name of the chemical that is used to precipitate certain metals the water can contain and the effects this substance has on the human body..."

Hermione stopped at the corner of the street, looking back to where the treatment plant was. There was something weird about that place. Crossing her arms, she tried to analyze it. It was strange that an institution such as that one was surrounded by so much... vegetation. And the residential area was in the vicinity, maybe too close to the plant. Surely that was very risky. There were laws against such cases.

When she was looking at the forest around the plant, something caught her attention. There was an owl flying between the branches. This wasn't really odd, because it was nightfall and the animals were coming out of their hiding places. No, this owl was special in a completely different way. It was its feathers: they were as white as snow.

It was beautiful.

Especially when it stood on a medium-height branch and locked its amber-colored eyes towards the front.

Hermione was startled. The owl seemed to be looking straight at her. Was that possible? She had to be hallucinating. She could almost swear it was trying to communicate with her... but that couldn't be...

"...Miss Granger? Miss Granger!"

When she turned to look at the group, she realized everybody was staring at her: her professors were somewhat mad, Dylan looked worried and her classmates were quite surprised (after all-- Hermione Granger distracted when she was being asked a question? It was doomsday, surely!). Blushing from the embarassment she tried to reply something, whatever: "I'm sorry, Mr. Jeevers, I was just..."

"I know what you were doing, Miss Granger," the professor cut her off. "And since the landscape seems more interesting to you than my questions, maybe you should demonstrate how much you learned on this trip by writing a report about the speech you were given at the plant." Hermione was going to nod when the professor turned to look at all the students with narrowed eyes. "You know what? Everybody will write that report. I want them on my desk, first hour on monday. And you know to thank Miss Granger." And with that he kept walking towards the spot where their bus was parked.

The students groaned loudly, and some of them even glared at Hermione before stalking off behind the two professors. She was left behind, feeling guilty and completely stupid for having been distracted in that way, and by such a silly thing.

Dylan came up to her rolling his eyes, and put an arm around her shoulders. "I'm sorry," she told him, biting her lower lip. "I don't even know what I was looking at on that side..."

"Hey, don't take it to heart," he told her, smiling, even though Hermione knew he didn't like the idea of doing extra homework at all. "Jeevers is a ridiculous old fart... he was just looking for an excuse to make us write the report anyway."

"I'm sorry that I was that excuse," she commented, disappointed.

"Look, don't worry about it," he assured her. "Now let's go back to the hotel, let's rest as much as we can and we'll go down to the library tomorrow after we get back to work on the report together, okay?"

Hermione sighed dejectedly. "Okay." The idea sounded good. Since the moment her strange dreams started, her mind had been acting abnormally. The whole thing with that owl only reinforced her idea that there was something wrong going on with her. Maybe she'd take her mother's offer and visit a psychologist... But anyway, what she needed now was a good rest.

After a rather early dinner, the boys decided to play some soccer in the hotel patio to waste some time before going to bed. Hermione and a classmate, the only two girls in the group, were sitting to the side watching everything and clapping accordingly. Of course, Hermione wasn't paying as much attention as she should; her gaze was lost somewhere behind their two chaperones, who were drinking tea to the side, and she was contemplating what happend a few hours previous.

Dylan found her in that state when they decided to take a break from the match a couple of minutes after.

"Hermione, are you okay? You look tired."

Hermione closed her eyes trying to get out of her head images of white owls and green-eyed boys. "Yes, maybe I am."

Dylan, now somewhat worried, sat beside her, frowning. "Do you want me to take you upstairs? The match can wait."

She tried to tell him it wasn't necessary, that she was okay, just sleepy, but he didn't drop the offer. After telling their chaperones that Hermione wasn't feeling good and that he was going to take her to the girls' room (and receiving a sharp "I want you back here in 5 minutes, young man" in reply), both proceded to walk up the stairs to the third floor, where they were staying.

"Okay, here we are. Are you sure you're not sick or anything? We can call your Mum if you want..."

"I'm. FINE," she affirmed, turning around and pushing him out. "Now go or it won't be only the professors that will be out for your head, the other guys will be as well for abandoning the match," she concluded. Dylan let her push him, but he stopped under the doorway, turned around and embraced her.

"Just rest, okay?" he asked her, his chin on her head. "You know you get too stressed sometimes. Um, almost always. Uh... maybe."

Hermione laughed and leaned her head on Dylan's shoulder. "Yes, yes, I get it."

He kissed her forehead as a goodbye. "I'll see you tomorrow. I love you."

She kissed him lightly on the lips, feeling happy for having such an understanding and wonderful boyfriend. To her she was more than just a boyfriend, he was and would always be her best friend. Someone who understood her better than anyone, and when he didn't fully understand her, he supported her and he valued her. He couldn't believe that someone like her, a know-it-all, unpopular girl who was stuck to her books, could've found someone who loved her so much. She gave thanks for having him with her every day.

"I love you too, Harry."

The reaction was immediate; Hermione felt him tense up and a couple of seconds later, he let go of her and stared, confused. Hermione didn't understand, and even felt rather hurt from the sudden separation. "What?"

"Harry?" he asked, his expression getting darker fast. "Who's Harry?"

Harry? What Harry? It was then that Hermione thought back and realized what she'd said. Worried, she tried to fix the situation. Who was Harry? She didn't know any Harrys! Why had that name come out of her mouth, and in the worst moment possible...? Unless...

"Oh. My. God."

"Well?!" Dylan exclaimed, growing more irritated by the second, as was his right. He was waiting for an explanation, and Hermione wasn't giving him one soon enough.

"I-- Dylan, uh..." Few times had Hermione Granger been speechless. If the white owl hadn't been a sign that she was losing it, this definitely was. "Harry is-- sorry. I mean-- I meant to say 'Sorry.' You know, about the extra homework."

Dylan looked into her eyes, trying to gauge if she was lying. Sometimes Hermione did strange things, but to say some other guy's name when she was kissing him? That was definitely out of the norm. But with her tear-filled eyes and an expression devoid of... malice, it was hard to believe she was lying to him. In the end, he decided to give her the benefit of the doubt.

"Okay, if you say so," he replied, his tone undefinable. "Sleep. I'll see you in the morning." And with that he turned around and went back down.

Hermione entered the room, closing the door behind her. The tears were starting to roll down her cheeks. Nervous, she sat on the edge of the bed and hid her face in her hands.

What was happening to her? Everything was spiralling out of control... She hadn't only hurt one of the most important people in her life because-- God knows why, but now her little imaginary friend who visited her every night also had a name. Where the last remains of her sanity evaporating by the second?

Harry Potter.

What did it mean?

author's notes--

always be careful about what you say in front of your significant others. i haven't experienced this but i'm almost 100% sure that if your loved one calls you someone else's name, it's going to hurt a lot. haha, poor dylan, i mess up his life so much ^^U

if you're thinking of asking me what the hell took me so long, well... uhhhh... i'd kinda forgotten this was here. walked out of the fandom a long time ago and never resumed translating it. i'm still not coming back for good, but updating my fanfics can't be a bad thing. i'm sorry for the wait (if you're still bothering to read this fic after book 6 absolutely destroyed my canon...)

from here on, everything starts going downhill. next chapter you get 2 for the price of 1! yes! you get both the perspectives from 'harry's' side and from 'hermione's' side, all in one chapter! yay! ^______^

don't mind the typos, it's 3 am...