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Through It All by Croyez
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Through It All

Croyez

Chapter six: Bliss

Hermione stood still, staring after Ron as he made his way back to the boys' dormitories. She dropped her gaze to the floor, sighing heavily. She felt Harry put his hands on her shoulders, whispering her name in a low voice. Turning, she gave him a small smile, "At least that's finally over with." She said, shrugging, "Now I don't have to worry about our relationship being…well, dishonorable."

Harry nodded, "And we don't have to keep it a secret anymore." He said, holding her in a tight hug. He felt the warmth of her body, the softness of her skin…it was all so overwhelming. In less than a week, his life had taken turns for the better. He was no longer miserable and lonely. He smiled at the thought, playing with a lock of Hermione's hair between two of his fingers.

Hermione let herself fall into Harry's arms, wrapping hers around his neck and burying her face in his chest. It seemed surreal…her worries were already half gone. As she had just told Harry, now she didn't have to worry about their relationship being dishonorable, and her dignity being brought down. The only worry that hadn't left her, despite her happiness, was the outcome of the Final Battle. She had tried to shrug off Trewlaney's prediction, but a small part of her kept bringing it back. After all, if Harry died, she would be left alone in the world. Her parents were sure to be cross with her when they found our about her breakup with Ron, and when they found out about her relationship with Harry, they would probably give her the cold shoulder and stop talking to her altogether. It was so stupid, she knew, after all, she could make it without them, couldn't she? She was smart; she could get a good job, and maybe, if Harry died after all, she'd be able to get past that someday.

But something made her shiver at the thought of being all alone in the world.

She looked up into Harry's bright green eyes. He gazed back at her with a faraway expression on his face. He looks happy. She gave him a small grin and kissed his lips softly. They were so close she could feel his heart pounding in his chest. It was beating incredibly fast, as if he were nervous whilst kissing her. She couldn't help grinning at that, pulling herself away from him. She walked towards the big couch by the fire and sat there.

"Sit down with me, Harry. I won't be able to sleep now anyway." She said, waving him over, "I've got too much on my mind." She added, frowning slightly. He nodded, smiling, and sat down beside her. He put his arm around her shoulders and scratched his head, "Yeah. Somehow, this conversation with Ron has got me even more worried than before." He said in a low voice, glancing at the stairs that led to the boys' dormitories. He still hadn't heard the heavy oak door open, and he would bet anything that Ron was hiding in the shadows trying to listen in on them.


Hermione followed his lead, lowering her voice to a mere whisper, "I know. It scares me, the thought of him trying to kill you." She nuzzled her head on his shoulder, crossing her legs on the couch. There was suddenly a creak of the wooden door, and a click, as if it had closed.

"I think that was Ron." Harry muttered. Her hair felt so soft against his shoulder, and it smelled very nice as well. He got a sudden urge to kiss her, but held back. She wants to talk, not kiss. She's still worried, after all. And who can blame her? Trying to kill me was way over the line, but trying to kill himself, too? He's a madman.

Hermione shivered at the mention of Ron's name. She hoped he desisted of the idea of killing Harry, or himself. She felt scared for Harry, who had to sleep in the same dormitory as him. If he hadn't dawdled with goodbyes and apologies, he would have surely gotten Harry to drink the potion. It would be so easy to get up swiftly one night and….

"You don't have to be worried over me, Hermione." Harry whispered as he felt her shiver, "I can think up of some way to protect myself while I sleep." He said, smiling slightly.

"I….Harry…he's not stupid." Hermione said, shaking her head, "When we were still a couple, I taught him some really complicated spells, and he mastered them after a few tries, you know." She said this all in a rushed manner, as if she thought Harry would be upset if he heard correctly.

But Harry understood perfectly, and wasn't the least bit upset. If anything, he seemed amused, "Spells? For what?" He asked, a tiny hint of scorn in his voice.

Hermione rolled her eyes, slightly annoyed at Harry's tone of voice. She smiled either way, "Just spells I thought he ought to know." She muttered, crossing her arms, "Setting up wards, breaking them, advanced self-transfiguration charms, self-defense charms….stuff like that."

Harry frowned, "Self-defense? Like the one he used on me today?" He asked. It would do him well to learn self-defense charms, and some jinxes and hexes would be very useful to him. He told himself it was in case Ron tried to harm him, but deep down he knew it was more than that. It was preparation for the final battle.

"Yes. That particular spell was the one he was best at, I'm afraid." She said, laughing.

"Hey…" Harry said, tickling her ribs softly, "Don't laugh at me!" he said, chuckling at her reaction. She gave a little jump and pretended to glare at him, but her grin gave her away. She scooted closer to Harry until she was a hands breath apart, not taking her eyes off his. Still grinning, he reached for her face, longing to feel its softness and warmth. He caressed her cheek softly; so softy, that it felt like a mild tickle. She smiled, holding his hand in hers for a while before slowly moving her head towards his. He closed his eyes as he felt her lips touch his, and wrapped his arms around her. She locked her arms around his neck once more, kissing him back fervently. Harry leaned against her gently, slowly pushing her backwards on the couch so that she was laying down beneath him.

Hermione felt as if her heart had skipped several beats and was now thumping violently in her chest to repair the damage. And yet somehow, this felt…right.

Ahh…it was bliss…

And that was all they needed for a long, long time, until Harry tentatively unbuttoned one of Hermione's nightshirt's buttons. It was the highest one-at the neck-and yet, as he did so, a shiver went by each of their spines. Hermione's small frame went momentarily rigid, and she stopped kissing Harry altogether, looking at him with a very outraged expression. He stared back, an apologetic and nervous expression in his eyes. Hermione considered everything before acting. Her dignity, her parents, her future, even Ron!

Would I be a slut if I accede to his touch? Would he consider me one? Instantly, another voice spoke up, Of course not. Harry loves me; he would never consider me so low and vain.

And yet, Ron does. Or so he said. He loves me, and yet tonight he told Harry and I that he considered me quite low because I was cheating on him.

Then he certainly doesn't love me enough. Someone that loves another person truly doesn't think so badly of their loved one.

Then, she relaxed again, giving her hormones free reign as she reached for Harry's lips once more. He too seemed tense as they made contact again, but relaxed after a bit. He was just reaching for another button in Hermione's nightshirt when-

Harry pulled himself away from Hermione, clutching his forehead and yelping in pain. Hermione sat bolt upright, wide-eyed, looking as he backed away to the wall, panting. She got up, and reached for her wand, looking at him with an expression of mingled fear and uncertainty. His whole body was rigid, as if he was having some sort of fit, against the wall. And then, as abruptly as it begun, he plopped onto the floor, sweating and panting nervously. Hermione quickly made her way towards him and stooped down beside his shaking figure. He had his eyes closed, and his breathing was still very interrupted. Hermione racked her brain for a spell that might be of aid to him, and remembered one she had taught Ron near the end of the Christmas holiday. She searched for her wand in her nightshirt's pocket and pulled it out. She pointed it at Harry and said shakily, "Serenus" Harry stopped shaking considerably, and his breathing was now more relaxed. He opened his eyes and blinked several times before looking back at her.

Hermione stared at Harry with a questioning look in her eyes. He sat up and buried his face in his hands for a minute or so before speaking.

"It's him. Voldemort. He's…he's angry." He croaked. He supposed he should get used to this-being constantly interrupted by him. But I was so close…so close to finally having Hermione, he thought self pityingly. He sighed heavily, looking at her once more. He felt the grief in her eyes. She was again worried about him. Yet again, she suffered over his fate.

"Did you see anything else?" She asked quietly.

"Yes…but it was all very blurred. He was looking at a woman, a very skinny and short woman. I think there was a fireplace, too, and he was sitting on a huge armchair by it. He had a piece of parchment in his hands, and he was angry…." Harry whispered hoarsely, "He was very, very angry."

Hermione put a hand on his shoulder and sighed, "Harry…" She said softly. Harry looked up at her; she looked so fragile, looking at him with such a sad expression on her face, on that gigantic, floor-length nightgown, "Harry, you know what this means, don't you?"

"What?"

Hermione pursed her lips, as if she thought he ought to know this, "You have to go to Dumbledore. It's very important that he knows this." She said it all firmly, but her eyes told the truth. She was…terrified. Her frightened expression was mixed with a great deal of sadness. It made Harry wonder whether he was doing her wrong by bringing her into all of his problems.

Harry nodded. He remained deep in thought for a moment, staring absentmindedly at her, before getting up abruptly and taking Hermione's hand to help her up. But Hermione stayed where she was, frowning, "You can't possibly be suggesting we go to him now?"

Harry nodded vigorously, "We have to, Hermione. I don't know how important this is, but I'm not taking any chances." He told her firmly, pulling her up. This time, she let him move her freely, so that she stood up in an exaggeratedly quick manner, losing her balance. She stumbled, collided with Harry, and sent them both toppling to the floor again.

Hermione lay on top of Harry, her hair all over his face, and her elbow digging into his stomach. Her knee was also digging into his rather painfully. And yet, Harry did not protest. He did not push her off, or move beneath her so that she would move her elbow and knee away. He lay very still, enjoying the lovely smell of her hair on his face and the way her body felt on top of his.

Hermione, however, did not notice his happy grin beneath her hair. As soon as she realized she was laying on top of him, she gasped, rolling off him and looking at him with an apologetic expression. "Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry! Are you okay?" She asked him shrilly.

Harry smiled, nodding, "Never been better." He said, and got up. He took her hand delicately and led her to the Portrait hole, "Come on, we'd better get going if we're going to pay Dumbledore a visit." He whispered, and she nodded, smiling. As they stepped out of the Common Room, Harry marveled at his grand luck. Remembering Hermione's soft, tender kisses and the smell of her hair, a single thought brushed his mind:

Ahh…it was bliss

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They walked in complete silence. Hermione walked behind Harry through the narrow passageway, thankful that she didn't have to walk alongside him. She was making too many faces at her own thoughts, and she could just imagine trying to explain to him what was going through her mind. Her own thoughts made her redden, shiver, smirk, and snort slightly on some occasions.

Laying on top of him like that….oh, God. I could have hurt him! Well, he didn't protest at all, did he? I suppose he was enjoying himself.

And why shouldn't he? It's not like it felt horrible….

Oh, shut up! Hermione told herself reproachfully, reddening at her own thoughts. You know, maybe it's best that we never got to…doing it. If I feel embarrassed at my own thoughts about him, how can I think I'm ready? It's ridiculous.

And besides, someone could have caught us. Hermione shivered slightly at the thought, That would have been terrible….I can just imagine the slander people would make up and spread about us. But honestly…in the Gryffindor Common Room…we're mad for even thinking about doing it there!

But I think we just got caught up in the moment. I would have most certainly said no to such a thing if I had been thinking straight. But I was quite occupied, wasn't I?

Think of something else, Hermione, for God's sake! She told herself desperately, I'm getting redder from my own thoughts about what happened than about what actually happened.

They had been taking a secret passage that led them to the floor above Dumbledore's office. It was extremely narrow, and the walls were very high, made of aged stones very much like the ones used for the Dungeons. There were small torches midway along the walls every six feet or so to illuminate the way. It was rather long, as it went from the seventh floor to the fourth. Harry was already out of the passage-which was through a concealed opening near two towering bookcases-when he realized he'd forgotten his invisibility cloak. He had been so immersed in his own happiness that he didn't stop to think about Snape or Filch, who apparently never slept and roamed the halls in a restless mood, trying to catch students that were out of bed.

Harry cursed silently, turning abruptly and bumping into Hermione, who as walking closely behind him. Startled, she took a step or two backwards, "What's wrong?" She asked, frowning. She still looked rather flushed, just like she had when they left the Common Room.

"My invisibility cloak. It's up in the Common Room." Harry explained, gently moving her to the side so that he could walk through the narrow passageway comfortably, heading in the direction of Gryffindor Tower. He beckoned her over, not daring to look back. The passageway might be narrow and uncomfortable to cross, but he was sure he wouldn't object to kissing her in here…

"Harry, what are you doing?" Hermione asked, grabbing his arm and pulling him back, "Are you mad? It's already late as it is! We'll be there at three in the morning if we don't hurry up!" She was blabbering, she knew. Gazing momentarily at his eyes, her gaze went to his lips. The temptation of kissing him was very overwhelming, but she held herself back. She had no need to kiss him to get things her way. She had never accustomed herself to such a thing. She could convince him with words easily, after all.

A silent voice in her head told her that she didn't want to kiss him to get things her way. She wanted to feel him close once more, to feel his hands hug her and travel along her body as she became entranced by his soft scent.

Again, she told herself to stop thinking of such things. Where has my self-control gotten to? I think I can safely assume that I have control over what goes through my mind! She wondered, reddening at her thoughts once more.

Harry didn't notice the dreamy expression on her face as she gazed at him longingly, "We'll get caught, Hermione!" He hissed, tugging at his arm to release it from her grip, "Snape's always skulking around at this time of night! I've sneaked around here enough times to be sure of that!" he added heatedly. He noticed Hermione's dreamy stare when the words were already out of his mouth, and wondered what could possibly make her look so very much like Luna Lovegood.

Hermione's dreamy stare vanished instantly when Harry's words managed to reach her brain, "Harry, don't be stupid. It's already one!" She scoffed, glancing at her watch. Her expression was nowhere near dreamy now; her eyes were narrowed and she looked determined to convince him to do as she said, "Dumbledore will most certainly be upset if we go around disturbing him later than this! I'm still surprised I even agreed to let you go and bother him now…"

Well, I was quite distracted by other things, she admitted to herself, and to her surprise, she did not blush at all at this thought. Her eyes once again wandered to his lips, and she felt compelled to kiss him yet again.

Harry noticed where her gaze traveled. He fought back an impulse to smile happily. He would gladly kiss her, if that was what she wanted. He tried to lead the conversation away from his invisibility cloak, "You never do lose an argument, do you?" He said, a light smile crossing his face. She snorted, "If you say so…I'm only trying to get some sense into you."

Harry put a hand on her waist, "Would you try and get some sense into me if I kissed you right now?" He whispered with a mischievous smile.

Hermione raised her eyebrows, reddening slightly, "Yes, I would." She said stubbornly. Just because they were engaged now didn't mean she was about to start kissing him whenever he wanted, after all. Even if she wanted to, too. She really had to get her self-control back, "I…we should get going, Harry. I'm sure we're not the only ones that know about this secret passage. Someone might see us." She said briskly, freeing herself from his light grip and walking swiftly towards the opening at the end of the passage between the two bookcases.

Harry stood staring at her as she briskly freed herself from his grip and got out of the passageway, glancing around furtively before doing so to check there was no one in sight. Frowning, he ran a hand through his hair.

Why does she have to be so hard to figure out sometimes? I could have sworn she was staring at me with…well, that look she was giving me...I thought she wanted me to kiss her!

Maybe that wasn't the best approach…after all, we were stuck in this odd passageway, alone, and I asked if she'd stop me if I tried to kiss her.

No, definitely not the best approach, Harry concluded after thinking about what might have gone through her head. God, I'm such an idiot.

I'd best go and apologize before she gets mad at me…

He walked as fast as he could towards the end of the passageway, holding on to the walls beside him to ensure he didn't fall flat on his face. When he finally got out, he was relieved to find Hermione leaning looking interestedly at one of the bookcases, stroking the numerous tomes that it held with an expression of care. She looked up when she sensed his presence.

"These books," she said, gesturing toward the bookcase, "they're about a hundred years old, if I'm correct. I wonder why they're being kept out here and not in the library…?

Harry shrugged, unsure as to whether he was supposed to answer her or not, "Maybe they're newer versions?" He offered as he stepped towards her.

She shook her head, gazing at him coldly, "Look at those pages, Harry. They're completely yellowed. And the cover looks very beaten, too." She said, waving a hand at the books. She really didn't know why she was talking to him about this; it was stupid. He was clearly upset at her attitude back in the passageway. After all, just a few minutes before she'd been longing to kiss him.

So? But I can't just let him take control of me like that. I have to exercise more self-control from now on. He has to learn to respect me.

He does!

Doesn't he?

Harry sighed at Hermione's snappy answer. I think I can safely assume she's annoyed…or something. Maybe she has something else on her mind that's troubling her, he thought as he stopped at an acceptable distance from her, "Hermione…." He said, "I'm sorry. I…I just thought…well, I wasn't planning on taking up where we left off, that's for sure." He said uncertainly, giving her an apologetic look as he gazed into her eyes.

Hermione fought back a snort, Smooth, Harry. Just the right thing to say, she thought sarcastically. But still, she understood what he wanted to say. With such an honest and to-the-point answer, who wouldn't understand? She nodded, "You should try thinking about what you're about to do Harry. It usually helps you avoid misunderstandings." She said coldly, but her eyes had a playful gleam.

Harry grinned, noticing the soft look she gave him, "Do you forgive me, then?" He asked, taking a step closer.

Hermione raised her eyebrows, pretending to think about it, "Only if you promise to think more before you act. Not only when I'm concerned, but with everything and everyone, okay?" She said, her tone serious, as she took a step towards him and softly cupped his cheek with her right hand.

Harry nodded, stretching out his left hand to touch her hair, "I promise."

"Then I forgive you." Hermione declared, moving her head slowly towards his lips…

"Well, this does look touching…" Said a cold, mocking voice from behind them, "But I am afraid I will have to break up this lovely romantic embrace." Hermione's eyes widened, and she stepped back from Harry quickly, blushing furiously. Harry, however, remained very still, his hands now at his sides, and his eyes reflecting mingled anger and embarrassment as he turned stiffly to Professor Snape.

Snape surveyed them, his eyebrows raised, smirking, "Well, I'd have never believed it if I hadn't seen it, Potter." He sneered, his black eyes glittering maliciously, "But I guess you are more like your father than I thought. And believe me, you were always too much like him for my taste."

Harry took a deep breath, thinking over and over about what he'd just promised to Hermione. He could feel her anxious eyes on him as he next spoke, "We need to talk to Professor Dumbledore-Sir." He added in a controlled voice, surveying his Professor with nothing but hatred.

"Visiting the Headmaster? At this hour? I don't think so, Potter. Don't go making up silly excuses to cover for your actions." Snape snapped, narrowing his eyes in disbelief.

"I have something very important to tell him-Sir." Harry hissed, breathing deeply as he tried to control his temper.

"Well, it will have to wait until morning. I'm sure the Headmaster is fast asleep by now. And if he weren't, he would have more pressing matters at hand." Snape said dismissively, "I'm afraid I shall deduct fifty points from Gryffindor. And, I will assign you both detentions, later this afternoon."

"Um….sir? I already have a detention with Professor McGonagall this afternoon…." Hermione's small, tentative voice appeared from behind Harry.

Snape's eyes darted over to where Hermione was standing, "Well, Miss Granger, I do hope taking nighttime strolls isn't becoming a custom for you and Mr. Potter, or else we shall be meeting very frequently in these halls." He smirked, enjoying the embarrassed look on Hermione's reddened face, "Well, then, you shall both serve detentions with me Monday evening, understood?"

Hermione nodded vehemently, cheeks still red. Harry reserved himself to a single nod in direction of Professor Snape, who raised an eyebrow, "Now, get to bed. And should I find you strolling the halls at night again, Potter-accompanied or not-you shall regret it deeply." He hissed, lowering his voice until it was almost a whisper.

Harry narrowed his eyes, "Yes, sir." He hissed, glaring at Professor Snape until he left through a door at the opposite end of the room.

"Stupid prat…leaving without waiting to see if we were on our way…" Harry muttered, grinning, "Seems like he's losing his touch…I remember all those times he caught me before. Scared me half to death…"

"Well, he succeeded where I was concerned!" Hermione said shrilly, "Maybe we ought to visit Dumbledore in the morning Harry…" She added with a pleading look in her eyes.

"No, c'mon, we're almost there. All we need to do is take this passageway and we'll be right across his office." Harry said, taking her hand and dragging her over to a portrait of a short, chubby old man with painter's tools beside him. He was asleep, leaning on his canvas, which was covered in squiggles in different colors. Harry asked for Hermione's wand after examining the portrait for a while. Hermione handed it to him sourly, wishing they would have just went back up to Gryffindor tower.

As Harry pointed her wand to a wall on the painting, it took Hermione a while to realize that there was some sort of tiny dot there. Instantly, the portrait swung to the side, revealing a wide passageway with a low ceiling.

"Okay, now lie down."

Hermione frowned, "What?" She asked incredulously, half-smiling.

Harry grinned, "It's a slide. You'll have to be careful with your hair, I think…" He added absentmindedly, fingering a strand of her hair.

"A slide?" she said, snorting loudly, "Hogwarts sure is full of secrets…" She said as she slipped her legs into the portrait hole.

"And if we remember to bring my Invisibility cloak next time, you'll be sure to find out about a fair few more." Harry said, "This castle is amazing…."

Hermione nodded at this, "Oh, I'd love to, Harry! But we'll have to be careful; you heard what Snape said, didn't you?" She warned.

Harry shrugged, "He has no reason to find out." He said mischievously. Hermione laughed and beckoned him over, asking him to give her a little push so that she would slide down easier. Harry did so, enjoying her joyful giggle as she slid down. "Come on, Harry!" She squealed as she brushed dirt off her nightgown. The slide was already very filthy, and combined with the dirt she'd gained at the end of the slide. She hadn't been expecting it to end so quickly and so had tumbled to the ground clumsily.

Harry slid gracefully out of the slide at the perfect time, landing on his feet and watching Hermione's frayed nightgown with an amused expression. Having used that passageway numerous times, he already knew very well how much time he had to wait before the slide came to its end.

"Err…are you okay?" Harry asked Hermione, unable to keep the laughter out of his voice.

Hermione raised an eyebrow, grinning, "Yes, I think I'll live." She said, "But you could have warned me!"

"Well, I thought someone as smart as you might already know when to place her feet on the floor." Harry said playfully as he walked over to the stone gargoyle that guarded Professor Dumbledore's office.

Hermione pursed her lips, "Fair point." She said, recognizing defeat. Pointing to the stone gargoyle, she frowned, "Harry, do you know the password?" She asked uncertainly.

Harry shrugged, "It can't be too hard….as far as I know he always has candy-related ones…"

Hermione snorted, but didn't say anything. She watched amusedly as Harry hissed, whispered, begged and even yelled at the gargoyle, each time trying a different candy.

"Fizzing Whizbee?"

"Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans?"

"Sugar Quill?"

"Pumpkin Pasties?"

"Acid Pop?"

"Chocolate frog?"

"Cockroach Cluster?"

"JELLY SLUGS?" Harry half yelled at the gargoyle, kicking it hard. To his surprise, it sprang to life, moving quickly and efficiently to the side. Harry clutched his right foot, which was causing him an excruciating pain, and waved Hermione over. She walked past him without a word, moving through the gap in the walls and standing on the first step of the spiral staircase that led to Dumbledore's office. Harry hurried towards her, hopping on one foot. Chuckling, she took his hand and helped him gain back his balance as the spiral staircase moved slowly towards a large oak door. Finally, they reached the door, and after helping Harry off the stairs, Hermione walked forward and knocked silently on the door. When there was no answer, she tentatively knocked a bit harder.

"Come in!" Said a kind voice from inside the room.

Harry glanced at Hermione, who seemed very unwilling to opening the door. Shrugging, he strode forward and opened the door. He urged her forward, and closed the door behind them.

Albus Dumbledore was pacing by the fire, a quill in his hand and a piece of parchment on the gigantic armchair that was beside him. When he caught sight of him, he raised his eyebrows in surprise but gave them a warm smile all the same.

"Harry, Hermione? What brings you here at such an hour?" he asked curiously, his eyes twinkling.

Harry scratched his head before speaking, "Err…well…I…my scar hurt tonight…" He said uncertainly as Dumbledore walked towards them. When Harry stopped speaking he gave him a small nod to tell him to continue.

"Well, I saw Voldemort. He was very angry…he was sitting on an armchair, and he had a piece of parchment in his hands. He was looking at it. Then, he looked up and there was a very skinny woman….rather old, too. He seemed angrier when he caught sight of her."

Dumbledore nodded, "And that is all you saw?"

"Yes."

"It is curious that you came to tell me this now," Dumbledore said, glancing at the piece of parchment on his armchair, "I was just thinking of the possibility…." He said, his voice trailing off. He frowned, looking from Harry to the fire.

"Is there something wrong, Professor?" Hermione asked, "I'm very sorry if we disturbed you in any way…"

Dumbledore laughed, shaking his head, "Oh, no, of course not. Quite the contrary, this is very interesting. You see, yesterday during the Masked Ball-and, before continuing, I would like to ask you that you didn't tell this to anyone, as we do not want to bring attention to it-" When they nodded, he continued, "Well, during the Masked Ball, Professor Trewlaney disappeared, and I'm afraid we haven't had any word from her. When you came in, I was thinking about the possibility that maybe Voldemort had something to do with it…."

"He would have a perfect reason, after all. He wants to know the prophecy, and he will stop at nothing to hear its exact wording." Dumbledore said, fiddling absentmindedly with the quill in his hand. When he noticed the frightened expression on Hermione's face, he shook his head, "Oh, but do not worry…I don't think he'd be quite so risked as to bring his Death Eaters straight into the Castle to abduct one of the staff, or the students. No, there has to be something we haven't considered…"

"Professor, maybe-"

"I'm sorry, Harry, but I'm afraid you really shouldn't get involved in this. Don't worry, the Order will find her! You mustn't get worked up over this, and you most certainly shouldn't go looking for her." He said, shaking his head, "it's not safe, and you in particular must take care of yourself. Voldemort will stop at nothing to kill you, Harry. You must not make things easier for him by putting yourself in danger."

Harry nodded, gazing absentmindedly at the parchment that lay on Dumbledore's chair. It was very frayed, and apparently lay unwritten. Dumbledore had probably been trying to write a letter to the Order to let them know about Trewlaney.

A letter? But that's not safe, is it? They've got to have some other method of communication…

Dumbledore's gaze followed Harry's, and upon catching sight of what Harry was looking at, he chuckled slightly, "I'm not going to send that by owl, Harry. As you know, the order has other ways to communicate. I use Fawkes to send messages I can't send by owl."

"But never mind that. It's late, don't you think? We should all go to sleep." He said in a more light-hearted tone, giving them a smile.

"Yes…" Harry muttered, lost in his thoughts, "Good Night, Professor." He said, looking up at Dumbledore and nodding. Hermione followed his lead and bid Dumbledore good night as well, frowning, as if she couldn't believe Harry had gotten up so quickly.

Dumbledore reached for the door swiftly, opening it and ushering them out. Harry would bet anything he wasn't about to go to sleep at all, but to finish the letter he had been writing. The thought of it made him curious…did Dumbledore know something they didn't? Was it possible that Voldemort had taken Professor Trewlaney?

Hermione noticed the dark look in Harry's eyes, but didn't dare interrupt his thoughts. She was thinking the exact same thing, and the thought worried her. If Voldemort could come in here and snatch Professor Trewlaney so easily, what tells us he couldn't do the same with Harry?

All the way to the Common Room, they did not speak, but remained in an irritating yet relaxing silence. The same thought went through Harry and Hermione's heads, and it was very simple, echoing in their minds, making sure none of them could think of anything else:

What could have happened to Professor Trewlaney?

A/N: Awwww….well, I think that's a sufficiently shippy chapter, don't you agree? =D

By the way…do you guys think Voldemort would ever refer to someone as 'Madam'? Or just by their surname? Or perhaps by their first name? He doesn't really know the person quite well, after all. I just don't know if 'Madam' sounds alright.