Dreams

dream_boat

Rating: PG13
Genres: Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 5
Published: 25/02/2005
Last Updated: 25/02/2005
Status: completed

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. [utter fluff!]

Chapters

1. Chapter One

2. Chapter Two

3. Chapter Three

4. Chapter Four

1. Chapter One

2. Chapter Two

The next morning, Harry woke to the sounds of commotion outside his window. Looking up, he could tell it was still dark outside. He grabbed his glasses from the bedside table and groggily placed them atop his nose. The sight at his window was enough to scare him over the side of his bed. Picking himself up from the ground, he rushed to the window. Opening it, he let a freezing Lupin inside.

“All packed then Harry?”

“Packed?”

“Yes, Hermione said she told you about coming to her house for the remainder of the summer.”

“She told me…but I had no idea it would be so soon!”

“No matter,” Lupin swished his wand and Harry's trunk was suddenly bulging with his belongings. “Come on then Harry, grab your broom…”

“Now?” Lupin flicked his wand again and Harry was wrapped tightly in his school robes.

The trip to Hermione's house was quiet, and surprisingly quick. Harry briefly wondered where his usual entourage of Order members was tonight and why Lupin was the only one escorting him.

They made it to the Granger home before the sun had peeked over the horizon. The Grangers were already awake for the day…at least, the older ones were; Hermione was nowhere to be seen.

They shared congenial conversation over tea, and then Lupin apparated back to Grimauld Place.

“Well then Harry, some breakfast?” Mrs. Granger asked with a grin.

“Sure! I'm starving,” Harry smiled.

As Harry dug into his breakfast, he heard footsteps approaching from the hall. Then a familiar voice rose from the neighboring room, “Mum? Dad?”

He called to her from his place in the dining room, “Oy! They left for work already!” A squeal of delight rang in his ears as Hermione tore into the dining room. All smiles, she threw her arms around Harry's neck…practically knocking his plate from the table.

“Oh Harry! You're here! I told Mum and Dad to wake me this morning! Blast them!” Harry could only laugh, struggling to push her hair from his face. She released him from her grip and sat down beside him at the table.

“Hi, Hermione,” he continued shoveling food into his mouth.

“That's it!? You're turning into Ron, you are!” she grinned mischievously. Grabbing him by his sleeve, she jerked him out of his chair. “Come on, I'll show you the house.”

Hermione led Harry to his room, where Lupin had already deposited his luggage. “It's right across the hall from mine, so I guess we'll be seeing a lot of each other.” Harry stood in the doorway of his room as Hermione hoisted herself to sit on what was, in Harry's mind, and enormous bed. “Do you not like it?”

“I love it! I've never slept in a room so big before is all.” Hermione giggled.

Hermione giggles?

Harry suddenly found himself studying Hermione as she propped herself up on her elbows. Not noticing his own growth was one thing, but he would have to be completely brainless not to notice how Hermione had grown. Funny, he thought, it was only weeks ago that I saw her yet she seems to have changed a great deal.

“Harry?”

“Uh…sorry,” he attempted.

“You were staring you great brute!”

“Sorry, I don't think I'm quite myself these days.” Hermione sat up on the bed, stood, and walked towards him. Her face was suddenly sad. Stopping directly in front of him she said, “I'm sorry, Harry.” She looked down at her feet for a moment, then returned her gaze to Harry, “Do you want to talk?” Harry's head was suddenly spinning. All of his dreams lately had left him under a momentary cloud of disillusion.

Hadn't he told her everything!?

This wasn't dream Hermione, this was real Hermione. Real Hermione knew nothing about the prophecy. Harry reeled over what to say. He felt like he had said so much already…

“Are you okay?”

“I'm sorry Hermione; I don't think I can talk just yet.” Her eyes fell to the floor. “Of course not Harry, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to -“

“No, it's not your fault. I just…it's just that I have so much to tell you. But it can wait.” He put his fingers under her chin and lifted her face. “It's fine, `Mione.”

“`Mione?” she smiled, her eyes still shimmering.

“You don't like it?”

“No, I do!” she exclaimed, gripping his extended arm in her hands. “I do.”

They spent the rest of the day lounged in Hermione's bedroom, which, to Harry's amusement, was wall to wall bookshelves. However, crammed in the corner was a small television. The two lay side by side on their stomachs munching on popcorn and watching an old movie.

“I can't believe your parents keep popcorn in the house.”

“Why?”

“Dentists? With popcorn?” Hermione snorted. Harry couldn't help but watched her was she shook mildly with laughter. The day passed quickly and before they knew it the Grangers were home and dinner was served.

As Harry pulled his pajamas on and turned down his bed sheets, a soft knocking sounded on his door. Twisting the knob, he opened the door to see Hermione standing in her own pajamas.

“Hi Harry, I just wanted to apologize about earlier today, can I come in?” Stepping aside, Harry opened the door all the way to let Hermione inside. She walked bare-footed to his bed, sat down on the edge and began twisting her hands as they rested in her lap.

“Hermione?”

“I-I'm sorry Harry. It's just that I-never mind.” With that, she sprung from her perch on his bed and made a bee line for the door. “Good night, Harry.” The door swung shut behind her and Harry was left standing bewildered in the center of the room. Scratching his head, he made his way back to his bed.

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3. Chapter Three

Again, that night, Hermione visited him in his dreams…

He walked alone through the halls until he came to the library. Surely this is where she would be. Sure enough, there, nose firmly in a book, was Hermione. She sat alone at her favorite corner table.

She looked up as he approached. “Harry! How are you?”

“Always the worrier, you are,” he smiled, sitting down beside her. She pushed the book away from herself and turned to look at Harry. The intensity of her stare sent a shiver down Harry's back. “Of course I worry about you Harry. Honestly, don't you know what you mean to me?” A lump had suddenly taken up residence in Harry's throat.

What DID he mean to Hermione? The way her eyes were sparkling gave him an impression of just how much he meant…

Suddenly, she was leaning forward and Harry felt her soft, round lips against his mouth. Closing his eyes, he pulled dream-Hermione towards him and kissed her back.

Harry sat straight up in bed, gasping. The dream. It had been so real…

Was he…? Had he…?

He threw his legs over the edge of the bed and stood up. Pacing the room, he wracked his brain over how this could have happened.

Did he think of Hermione in THAT way? Surely not! She was his best friend for Merlin's sake!

Putting his hands on top of his head, he let out a frustrated sigh. Heading for the door, he opened it and stepped into the hallway. Directly in front of him stood Hermione, also emerging from her room for a late-night stroll. She gasped and clapped her hand over her mouth.

Fumbling for words, Harry whispered, “I was…j-just heading for the bathroom.”

“Me too,” she murmured quickly. Simultaneously, they started creeping down the hallway towards the toilet. Reaching the door, they looked at each other. Hermione was blushing softly, even in the darkness of the hall.

“You first,” he swept his arm toward the entrance. Giving him one last nervous glance, she slipped inside. Soon, the door was opening and Hermione was walking past him, “Good night,” she whispered over her shoulder. Harry watched her for a while and she slipped down the hallway, and then entered the bathroom. He stood in front of the sink and splashed water on his face. Dreaming of kissing Hermione, and then suddenly there she is….it was a lot for him to handle.

Silently, he crept back towards his room and went inside. He walked to the bedside table and placed his glasses on it. Turning towards the bed, he jumped in surprise.

“Hermione!” he hissed as silently as he could.

“Shh!” she whispered, getting up from the corner of his bed. “I'm sorry; I didn't mean to scare you. I was just wondering…well, I've been having these nightmares…”

“Okay…”

“Well, I was just wondering…if…maybe you…I mean I-I…can I stay in here with you?”

“In here?”

“Mmm hmm.”

“With me?”

“Uh..forget it Harry. I'm sorry,” she began walking toward the door. Harry caught her by her wrist, stopping her.

“You've been saying that far too much lately.”

“What's that?”

“That you're sorry.”

“I'm sor…I guess you're right.”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“You can stay.”

After a moments pause, Hermione made her way back toward Harry's bed. It wasn't until Hermione was climbing onto the bed that Harry noticed how overdressed he seemed. He had been wearing Dudley's old button-up pajamas for so long that it had never occurred to him that they might be `old-fashioned.' Long pants, long sleeves, and pinstripes.

As Hermione scooted herself down into the bed sheets, Harry saw that she was wearing nothing more than what appeared to be and old, worn pair of boxer shorts and a spaghetti strapped tank top. It suddenly occurred to him that he had probably never seen Hermione's bare legs before. Oh sure, he'd seen her in that pleated school skirt with those wool knee-stockings, but this was different.

Why do I care about Hermione's legs? He thought.

Cautiously, he slid into the bed next to her.

At first, it wasn't as awkward as he'd thought it would be. Hermione simply rolled away from him and was soon slumbering peacefully. But Harry lay frozen for quite some time before sleep overcame him.

He woke again later to find that Hermione had shifted in her sleep and was now facing him.

She looks so beautiful…

Reaching out, he found his hand tangling itself into Hermione's chestnut curls. A thought suddenly struck him-

Had Hermione been sneaking out of her room earlier to sneak into his room? Or did she really just need to use the toilet?

“Reckless,” he murmured, a small grin forming on his lips.

Glancing downward to where her arms folded together in front of her, he noticed the round of her cleavage that had formed at the neck of her tank top. Gulping, he brought his eyes back to her face. Startled, he found open and bright brown eyes looking back at him.

“Hi,” a small whisper came from her lips.

“Hi.”

“I wasn't kicking you in my sleep was I?”

“Not that I remember. I'll check for bruises in the morning,” he lied, placing his hand gently on her hip. She closed her eyes and Harry pulled her toward him. She buried her head into his chest and sighed.

Suddenly, it was so simple to Harry. Nothing felt awkward about Hermione. Why should it? She had always been there for him. And he would always be there for her. At that moment, nothing else mattered to Harry.

Hermione's warm breath against his chest, the rise and fall of her body with each shallow breath, it all made sense now.

Closing his eyes, Harry neither dreamed of Hermione, nor Sirius, nor did he feel Voldemort's presence in his subconscious. With Hermione in his arms he fell blissfully into an untouched slumber.

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4. Chapter Four

The next morning Harry woke up alone in his unfamiliar room at the Grangers. Stretching and yawning, he made his way to the bathroom. He met neither Hermione nor her parents en route. Closing the door, he stood in front of the mirror scratching his head. He straightened his glassed and that's when he noticed the long, curly, brown hair clinging to his chest.

On any other day, this might gross him out. However, finding something upon himself so personal to Hermione's essence caused him to puff his chest out with self-satisfaction.

Later at breakfast, Hermione didn't seem to want to acknowledge the previous night's canoodling. Harry attributed this to the presence of her parents. However, even after Mr. and Mrs. Granger left for work, Hermione still didn't seem up to discussing the topic. Not only that, but she glowed red every time Harry met her gaze.

As soon as the breakfast table had been cleared, Hermione mumbled something about `homework' and rushed down the hall toward her room. Harry stood puzzled in the dining room wondering whether he should follow her.

Does she want me to follow her?

She certainly didn't act as though she wanted to see him any time soon.

Finally making up his mind, Harry marched to Hermione's closed door. He could hear papers shuffling and…

Was that sniffling? Is Hermione crying?

Alarmed, he rapped softly on the door.

“Hermione? Are you okay in there?” Silence. More movement. Harry could hear her clear her throat before replying-

“Fine. I'm fine Harry.”

“Can I come in then?”

“Um…sure. Yes, of course.” Harry slowly turned the knob and stepped into Hermione's book-lined room. Papers were strewn across the floor, the bed…everywhere. Messy and most unlike Hermione. She sat on the edge of her bed opposite him, facing the window and looking outside.

Not knowing where to start, Harry decided it was best to attempt cheering his friend up a bit. Flopping backward onto her bed, he lay with his head beside her hip staring up at her. Her eyes were slightly red. Those brown orbs, usually so thoughtful, were distant.

“What's wrong Hermione?” She was quiet for a moment and then burst out-

“Oh, Harry! I'm so sorry!” she threw her sobbing face into her hands.

“Hey now,” he said soothingly as he reached out and pulled her arms down from her face. This was definitely not the Hermione he knew! Not this sad and fragile girl beside him! No! His Hermione was always the strong one. The one who kept him focused on events to come. The one who guided him…though he'd never realized it until now.

“L-Last night…” she choked out, “I shouldn't have…” That was enough for Harry's ears and he immediately cut in-

“What? Hermione, it's not like we…did…anything! You have nothing to be ashamed of.” She looked at him hopefully.

Did she really feel ashamed? Why?

“Oh Harry,” she said, cupping his cheek, “you're so sweet. But I know you didn't want me there…”

“What are you saying Hermione? Didn't I tell you to stay? In fact…if you hadn't asked…I probably would have!” He chuckled at the expression on her face. Quizzical wasn't an expression Hermione wore often. She always knew exactly what was going on. At all times.

“You mean…you w-wanted…you didn't mind?”

“Of course not! What's gotten into you? You're crying over nothing!” She smiled and flopped onto her back, her head near Harry's knees. They lay like that for quite some time laughing. Then Harry shifted himself so that they lay side by side. It was quiet in Hermione's little room, with the exception of the papers crinkling underneath them. Then, Harry took Hermione's hand in his and they watched the clouds roll by through the window. Harry had never felt so contented and hoped that Hermione felt the same way.

Harry woke up staring at Hermione's ceiling. Her felt her beside him. When he turned his head to look at her she was curled up beside him with her arm thrown across his chest. He lifted a strand of curls that was partly covering her face, causing her to stir in her sleep.

Slowly lifting her eyelids, she looked up into Harry's eyes and gave him a small smile. Then, taking her arm from his chest, she lifted both arms above her head and stretched with all of her might.

“How long did we sleep?” But Harry didn't hear her; he was transfixed by her petite, slender body stretching to its full length beside him. In the entire Wizarding world he had never seen anything as spellbinding as Hermione Granger as she lay beside him now. Propping himself onto his elbow, he again pulled her toward him and, to her obvious shock, placed a gentle kiss onto her lips. Though it was short and chaste, Harry felt emotions flow through his body that he had never felt before.

Regardless of his pathetic attempt with Cho Chang, Harry knew he would always consider this, with Hermione, his first real kiss.

Even as he moved away from her lips, he felt her hand wander to the back of his neck, pulling him back toward her. Kissing her again, Harry felt blissfully aware of her hand grasping a fistful of his hair. Her body, tense at first, relaxed as her tongue brushed his lips.

Is she…?

All thought was cut off when, involuntarily, his mouth opened to receive her tongue. Warmth spread throughout his body as her tongue stroked his within his mouth. He found himself on top of her moments later as they pulled apart to breathe. Her hands were resting on either side of her face and he noticed how her arms trembled slightly.

“You're just how I imagined in my dreams…” She closed her eyes and kissed the tip of his nose.

“I'm in your dreams Harry?” she said softly.

“You are my dream.”

Inseparable through the rest of the summer, Harry wondered how he hadn't seen Hermione in this light before. How could her image have eluded him for so long? Putting those thoughts behind him, he knew it didn't matter anymore as long as he saw her now. Saw how Hermione was his salvation. The key. The one.

Suddenly there was more to live for.

Sitting on a park bench and holding hands in the sunset, he confessed the prophecy to her. She shed tears but Harry no longer felt afraid, for he was no longer alone.

Had he ever been alone?

………….

NOTE:

Oy, this drained me. Sorry if the ending was utter crap. The caffeine was wearing off! I'm sure I forgot what I was writing about several times…

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