Dreams

NOTE: This story was inspired by loops and loops of Avril Lavigne's song “How Does It Feel.”

JKR ROWLING owns all of the characters in this story.

Thanks. And forgive me as I have no confidant to edit my stories. Hope you enjoy.

Harry woke with a start, bolting straight up in his bed. No matter how hard he had tried lately, he could not seem to close his mind off as Snape had instructed. Wiping the sweat from his brow, he settled back down onto his pillow.

Close your mind, Harry. Shut everything out.

But it was no use. With a school year like the previous one, it was no wonder he was having trouble shutting out the noise. Sirius: dead. Harry: soon to be dead. The prophecy had changed everything. Sure, Harry had always known he might one day have to face Voldemort on his own. He had done it before hadn't he? But that had been different…he hadn't known what was coming. Now, suddenly, his impending doom loomed before him.

Closing his eyes, he tried to force the thoughts from his head. Sighing, he gave in. Images flashed across his mind: Sirius and the veil, Ron and the brains, Hermione…

Hermione.

Seeing her there lying in the Department of Mysteries, unsure of whether she was even alive or not…

Hermione.

Suddenly his mind swam backwards through time…

“Flitwick told me I got a hundred and twelve percent on his exam…” Harry chuckled slightly at the memory. Soon he was drifting off to sleep with thoughts of his best friend in his head.

The next day with the Dursleys was the same. They ignored him for the most part. The next night was the same too. He could just not seem to wipe his mind blank…

Again, the veil, brains and…

“All those poor elves I haven't set free yet, having to stay over during Christmas because there aren't enough hats!”

Again, sleep overcame Harry and he drifted blissfully downward…

“Hello Harry!”

“Hermione! What are you doing here?”

“You tell me Harry, it's your dream!” she said, smiling.

She was sitting in the Great Hall all alone. The tables were empty of students and Harry stared down at Hermione wondering what she was doing there all by herself.

“Are you going to sit down or gape around like a fish?” Sitting down across from her, Harry continued staring around the huge Hall. Then, moving his eyes back to Hermione, he felt calm. “That's better. Now, what do you want to talk about?”

“H-Huh?”

“You know…talk…” she pointed to her mouth, “or make some sort of grunting sound with your tongue…” she said, chuckling at the blank expression on Harry's face.

For the rest of the night, dream-Hermione listened to Harry talk about…well, nothing important really. Sitting in the Great Hall, they reminisced about their past adventures. Hermione giggled when Harry gave his account of the Troll Incident. When Harry woke the next morning, late, he felt the most refreshed he had felt in days…

Going about his choirs that day; he couldn't help but remember snippets of the dreams from the previous night. It felt nice to talk with Hermione, even if it wasn't the real Hermione.

That night…

Sitting at the same table from the previous night, Hermione stopped laughing and gave Harry a serious look.

“Do we really have to keep meeting in here, Harry?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, it's your dream isn't it? Want to take a walk?”

“Sure.”

Getting up from the long table, the two made their way out the front entrance where they strolled towards the lake. Circling the lake, they talked about how life was for Harry with the Durleys that summer. Hermione laughed when Harry told her about Uncle Vernon's silence during the car ride home from Platform 9