Chapter 21
Dreams or Divinations
The darkness seemed to wrap around like a cloak, barring even the tiniest light to come through. In only a moment, the edging seemed to part, and a finger of light crept into the room, the moon's touch bringing a much needed glimmer. A chill hung heavy in the air, grabbing at flesh like Death's hand. The soft rustle of material as one of the mounds moved was fighting to be heard over the rapid, deep breaths that filled the room now that the haunted cry had faded.
Hermione sat up in bed, her covers wrapped around her, shielding her from the cold of night. Her fingers lightly brushed against her brow, feeling the cool traces of sweat that had broken out upon her skin. In her mind, visions flashed over and over, until they eventually subsided and her thoughts were brought back around to where she was.
For a moment, her eyes flicked around, trying to make out the shapes around her. Her fingers brushed against the material on her bed, realising that she was not lying upon the hard ground, which was the last thing she had remembered seeing as she fell to the floor. She shook her head, trying unsuccessfully to push the feeling of dread from her mind. She could finally see that she was safely wrapped up in her bed at Hogwarts, surrounded by everything that greeted her every morning, normally with a little more light, but there had been occasions when she had dreamed bad dreams and they had woken her.
She shivered, as once more the face of Harry Potter came before her, so vivid that she could have touched his face and brushed away that strand of hair that seemed to always bother her so much. The scar on his forehead burned clearly before her and as usual she could see the anguish in his green eyes. She blinked away the image, needing a clear mind to prepare once more for sleep.
Sitting still for a moment, Hermione listened to the sounds around her, trying to remove the feelings that threatened to send tears rolling down her face. Her body shook softly, as her fears were pushed behind her and the images that had haunted her sleep were lost in the darkness of the night. She looked back at her pillow, ready to lie down again, but the image of Harry followed by a darkening around her filled her mind and she sat bolt upright again.
She turned, placing her feet on the ground beside the bed, feeling a chill race up her leg. Her foot searched the floor for her slipper, finding both quickly. Standing up, she reached over to the end of her bed and grabbed her robe, pulling it tightly around her body before her hand took hold of her wand.
The night remained quiet, the others in the room not moved by her cry, which made Hermione feel a little relieved. She was not ready to discuss what had caused her to wake in such a dramatic fashion. How could she explain to everyone that she had just dreamt of the death of Harry Potter?
She began walking down the stairs, listening for sounds of disturbance, as she headed towards to the common room. She paused for a moment, unable to continue. Thoughts of Harry once more filled her mind, but not as she had seen him in her dream. Not dead or dying, but alive and sitting in his pyjamas, wrapped in the warm orange glow of the fire. She frowned, wondering why such an image had come to her. Of course, she had seen him in such a position before, she had sat with him in the early hours of the morning during their time together at Hogwarts, but this seemed different, like it had happened and yet had not happened.
"Hermione, you are being silly," she said to herself, her voice low enough not to echo back up the stairs.
Taking another couple of steps, she paused again, almost as if blocked by some obstacle before her, as once more the image of Harry's face appeared, looking up at her from one of the chairs beside the fire. He looked concerned and agitated, but most worryingly afraid.
Inhaling sharply, she continued down towards the common room, berating herself silently for becoming so wrapped up in her nightmare. She took the final step, her foot about to touch the ground, when a sound from across the common room made her freeze on the spot. She watched from her position by the stairs, as the fireplace burst into life. Her gaze was entranced by the dancing orange glow, until her eyes moved slightly towards one of the chairs, where an elbow could be seen resting on the armrest.
"Harry, what are you doing awake?" Hermione asked, taking a couple of steps over to the fire. From behind the back of the chair, the silhouetted head of Harry Potter appeared, recognisable instantly to the young witch.
"Hermione?" Harry rose from his chair, his whole body now visible, as he stood before the orange, dancing flames.
Hermione smiled, relief flooding her body as she raced over to where her friend stood, wrapping her arms around him. "Oh, Harry." Her voice quivered with happiness, as the last remnant of her dream vanished.
"Whoa, Hermione, what's all this for?" Harry asked, as he wrapped her in his embrace, holding her close.
"I…ah…" Hermione looked up into Harry's face, smiling awkwardly as she pried herself from his arms. "I couldn't sleep, and I'm…" She paused, unable to put into words how happy she was to see him alive and well and not lying dead on the ground. Not that she remembered much more than that, as she recalled a flash just before darkness descended upon her, just before she awoke to find herself safely wrapped up in her bed.
Harry grinned at Hermione, looking oddly smug about her discomfort, and pointed to the other chair, opposite the one he had just vacated. "I couldn't sleep either." He sighed as he lowered himself down into the seat. "It's not been the…"
"I know, it's not been the same here since Dumbledore died," Hermione said at exactly the same time, as she took her own seat, earning herself an odd stare from Harry. "What's the matter?"
"You just took the exact words out of my head," Harry grinned, as he sat back in the chair. "I mean, word for word. And you knew it was me down here before you could have seen me." He paused, giving her another strange look, which turned into sudden realisation. "You've been practicing Divination, haven't you?"
"Don't be silly, Harry, you know I don't like Divination," Hermione replied quickly. "It just felt like it was you in the chair. And…" She paused in thought for a moment, recalling the images she had seen as she had walked down the stairs. She had seen Harry sitting in the common room, had felt that he would be there when she entered the room. Things seemed new and yet familiar.
"What is it, 'Mione?" Harry asked, leaning forward in his chair, his face grave, full of concern and agitation.
Hermione stared at Harry, her eyes fixed to his face. "Harry, do you really think people can see things before they happen?"
Harry nodded, his brow creasing. "Yes, I do. Given the right motivation and circumstances, I'm sure that people can see things. Look at Madam Trelawney, she swears that she can see things, so why shouldn't other people?" He looked at Hermione, puzzled. "Why? Have you seen something?"
Shaking her head, Hermione laughed. "No, of course not." She sat back in her chair, letting out a large sigh. "You know how bad I am at Divination."
Harry nodded, his expression not growing any more comfortable with the situation. "That doesn't mean you couldn't see something now. What is it, Hermione? You know you can talk to me."
Hermione smiled, as she turned towards the fire, losing her thoughts in the orange flames that continued to dance around, undisturbed by things happening around them. "I knew you'd be here."
"What?" Harry asked, looking at her expectantly. "You got up because you knew I would be here in the common room?"
Hermione turned back to Harry, finding his eyes with her gaze. "No, I didn't get up for that, but I knew I would see you down here, as I was walking down the stairs, I could see you looking at me from that chair."
Harry clapped his hands and grinned. "Hermione has finally learnt Divination." He sat back in his chair and pulled his robes around him. "And her first vision was of me. I'm honoured."
Letting out a huff, Hermione shook her head. "I'm glad I've cheered you up, Harry." She got up from her chair, just as Harry's hand clasped her wrist.
"Please don't go, Hermione," Harry looked up at Hermione; her eyes were wide as she stared down at him, seeing the pain buried behind his gaze. He loosened his hold on her arm, and sat back in the chair, bowing his head.
Hermione turned and retook her seat, her eyes never leaving Harry. "I'm sorry." She frowned, annoyed with herself for causing Harry to become so dejected. "I know you are finding it hard settling back in, Harry. We knew it wouldn't be easy without Professor Dumbledore here to…" She let the words hang in the air, not needing to finish.
Harry let out a sigh, as he raised his head, his eyes meeting Hermione's. She could see the anguish inside him, could see how hard coming back to Hogwart's had been. "What are we going to do without him, Hermione? He knew what we had to do. He knew everything." He paused, as Hermione watched him search inside himself. "How can I do this without him? I don't even know where to start."
"We are here for you," Hermione smiled, trying to ease the situation. As she leant forward, she reached out to take Harry's hand, stopping before she reached it, afraid that he would pull away from her. "Harry?"
Harry rose from his chair. "I don't want your help. I've lost too many…"
Standing, Hermione walked over to Harry and placed her hand tentatively on his shoulder. "You aren't going to lose us."
She fell silent, once more images swimming in her vision, scenes of Harry, and scenes of Ron. So much pain and suffering and dying. Her head swam as she tried to push them away. The images changed and yet the ending remained the same, always the same. Harry, Ron and her fighting and losing. Fighting and paying the ultimate price for their failure. She watched as image after image flowed past her eyes, spelling out their death and destruction.
Her fingers slipped off Harry's shoulder, as she turned away, her hands moving up to her face, trying to block out the images. Harry's hand gently brushed over her arm, stopping her from looking completely away.
"Hermione, what is it?"
Hermione lowered her hand, looking at Harry, tears prickling at her eyes. "Harry, how cope with dreams that do not go even when you are awake?"
"You had a nightmare?" Harry asked, his arm slinking behind Hermione, holding her close to him.
Hermione nodded, unable to speak as she felt the tears beginning to roll down her cheeks. She felt Harry gently stroke her hair, his touch light and soothing. Her head rested on his shoulder, her body shaking with tears.
"Hermione, nightmares have a habit of lingering, just to make them seem even more horrid than when you first had it." Harry's voice was low and calming. "I've had bad dreams and they do go eventually, even if it feels like it won't at the time. I wish you had said something, Hermione. You really don't have to hide these things from me."
Looking up, Hermione found Harry's face, as her hands brushed against her eyes, wiping away her tears. "Thank you, Harry."
"Would you like to talk about it?" Harry asked, releasing his hold on her slightly, but not letting her go.
Hermione shook her head. "I just…I just keep seeing things, over and over again, and they won't go away."
Harry smiled. "Nightmares always go away quicker if you have your mind occupied, unless you want to go back to sleep, that is?"
Shaking her head, Hermione smiled. "No, I don't want to go. I don't think I could sleep even if I did go."
"Neither could I." Harry left his hand around her shoulders, as he guided her back to the chair, easing her into the seat.
Hermione looked up at Harry, her tear stained cheeks and eyes glistening in the firelight. "We could use the time researching the Horcruxes, if you are willing to let me help you."
Nodding, Harry smiled, retaking his chair. "When have I ever turned down your help?" Hermione opened her mouth to answer, but Harry cut her off. "Okay, okay, but not this time."
Hermione pulled out her wand and aimed it at a pile of books and parchment. "Accio," she cried, before the items began to move towards them.
"Where should we start?" Harry asked, ready to grab the books as they arrived.
"That's easy," Hermione smiled, feeling suddenly much better and more her old self. "At the beginning."
* * * * *
As dawn broke and the common room came to life, Harry and Hermione were woken up by a very confused Ron, who was trying to understand why he had found his two best friends fast asleep in chairs. Following a very brief discussion that revealed nothing, the three friends made their way to breakfast in the Great Hall, as they had done for the previous fourteen mornings. Harry and Hermione joined Ron at their table and watched those around them, noting the empty chairs where friends and enemies once sat.
Breakfast turned out to be very hectic, and Hermione once more found herself to be the object of fascination for Harry as she once more predicted an event before it happened. Harry and Hermione had just finished filling their plates when the conversation had turned to Hagrid, who was sitting in his usual seat at the head of the hall, looking more miserable than the three could ever remember ever seeing him. It was not hard for any of them to work out the cause, they all knew how much Hagrid respected Dumbledore, and his death and that of Aragog was playing heavily on the half giant.
"Hagrid looks terrible," Hermione stated as she finished chewing a mouthful of food. "We really need to cheer him up."
Ron turned and looked at Hagrid. "Losing Dumbledore and Aragog have hit him…" He never finished before Hermione cut him off.
"Speak to him, Harry, before he leaves," Hermione grabbed at Harry's arm.
"He's not leaving, Hermione," Harry stated, looking at Hagrid as he continued to play with his food. "He's eating…"
"Harry, now, please." Hermione tugged at his arm.
Harry and Ron both stared at Hermione, but it was Harry who spoke. "What has got into you today? Is this related to your dream or something?"
"Dream?" Ron looked puzzled. "What dream?"
"It has nothing to do with my dream; I'm just worried about Hagrid." Hermione let go of Harry's arm, as they others around the table began to stare at her.
Harry turned towards the large table at the end of the room, noticing that the object of their discussion had gone. "He's left."
"What?" Hermione turned to where Hagrid was sitting only moments before, managing to catch sight of him as he left the room, his huge bulky form disappearing through the main doors.
"Do you want to explain what this is about, Hermione?" Harry asked, looking at her with confusion written on his face. "Why the sudden interest in Hagrid's wellbeing?"
Hermione turned back to her two friends, not surprised to see both of them staring at her as if she had just grown a second head or turned green or something equally as surprising. "I'm just worried about him, Harry. I don't know why, but I feel we've been ignoring him when he needs us."
"We have a lot on our plate at the moment," Ron pointed out, as he ironically prodded the last morsel of his breakfast with his fork. "What with the Hor…"
"Sshhh, not here." Harry retorted, his attention momentarily focused on Ron. "That's a discussion for another time." He turned back to Hermione, looking at her questioningly. "Now, are you ready to explain exactly what is going on here, Hermione? You have been acting very strange all day."
Hermione shook her head. "Later, I promise." She got up from her seat and smiled at her two friends, hoping to convey a sense of calm. "I've got to get to class; I'll catch up with you later."
Without uttering another word, Hermione moved away from the table, turning back to see Harry and Ron huddled together, obviously using her as the main topic of conversation. She shook her head, trying to make sense of everything that was happening around her. She felt like a fish out of water, confused and with no idea why.
She had barely made it to the bottom of the stairs when she heard footsteps approaching her. It was easy for her to work out who it would be, as during breakfast she had seen the owner of the footsteps gazing at Harry. She frowned, really not in the mood to face that particular problem.
"Hey, Ginny," Hermione greeted the younger witch as she turned.
"Hermione," Ginny smiled in return, her eyes briefly flicking back to the main door of the Great Hall, making sure certain people were not following. "How's Harry?"
The older witch shrugged. "I think he needs some space." She paused for a moment, stunned into silence by the look on Ginny's face. "He's…um…he's having a rough time, what with Dumbledore's death and everything else that's happened."
"I can't stop thinking about him, Hermione, and I wish there was something I could do. I want to help him." Ginny frowned. "But he won't even talk to me."
Hermione sighed, wishing that these kinds of problems would disappear. She knew it had been hard on Ginny since Harry had broken up with her at the end of the previous school year, and he needed the hassle even less. "Look, just give him time and I'm sure he will come around. Just go easy on him, Ginny."
"I just want to help," Ginny replied, her voice managing to turn the words into pleading.
"I have to get to class, we'll talk later." Hermione smiled sadly, wishing she could have found the words to politely tell Ginny that she would have to deal with this on her own, but the young woman was a friend and friends in need should never be left on their own.
Hermione watched as Ginny turned and walked away, catching the relieved look upon her face. Hermione, on the other hand, felt more wound up than she had all day. She headed off to her first class hoping that the rest of the day would turn out better.
* * * * *
Unfortunately, the rest of the day did not turn out well. She returned to the common room to find Harry and Ron discussing her and her nightmare. And worse, they had continued to question her and question her until she finally told them what she had seen in her dream, which managed to silence them both. Harry had gone deadly silent, his face looking horrified. It had taken her a moment to convince the two that she had not been having psychic visions of the future, but the look in Harry's eyes did not leave her feeling very successful in her endeavour.
The three remained silent for the rest of the period they spent in the common room. Hermione would look up from her book and catch Harry staring at her oddly. She wanted to say something, wanted to tell him that it was merely a dream, but there was an odd feeling inside that made her wonder herself. As she sat reading her book, her eyes lost focus on the words before her, and images once more swam in front of her eyes, Harry, Ron, Voldemort, and a stranger staring at her, out of focus but there as her vision grew black.
* * * * *
"Give her some room," a strong commanding voice filled her ears, as she blinked herself awake, the Dark Arts room coming into focus. "Help Miss Granger up, Mr Potter. You too, Mr Weasley. That's it, get her onto the stool."
Hermione looked first to her left and then her right, spotting the familiar yet concerned faces of Harry and Ron as they aided her to her feet. She blinked rapidly, her mind whirling as she tried to remember what had happened. The last thing she could recall was taking down a note on her parchment, before darkness had descended.
"Are you alright, Miss Granger?" The face of Professor Stygian appeared before her, causing her to shiver involuntarily. "Did you hurt anything when you fell?" Hermione shook her head, trying to focus on everything that was happening around her. "You'd better take her to see Madam Pomfrey, Mr Potter."
Hermione looked at Harry and then turned to Ron, who seemed to be frowning heavily, annoyed that he had not been asked to escort Hermione to the hospital wing. "I'm fine, Professor Stygian," Hermione stated as she tried to free herself from the hold of her two friends. "I don't need medical attention."
"I really think you should have yourself checked over, Miss Granger, I would not be pleased for one of my students to fall ill because of my class. I am sure Mr Potter would be most willing to see you there safely," the professor encouraged, but after a quick look at Ron, Hermione shook her head indicating that she was not willing to go. "In that case, we'll continue." She turned back to the front of the class, leaving Harry and Ron to stare at Hermione oddly.
The class fell back into its routine and finished the lesson for the day, although Hermione had trouble focusing on everything that Professor Stygian was saying. She could not shake the strange sensation that something was prodding at the edge of her memory, something important. It also did not help that she could not stop thinking about the cause of the faint. She had been perfectly fine up until that moment and then she could remember nothing, other than the face of the professor. The woman's eyes had a strange boring quality that seemed to look inside a person, beyond the mere flesh.
Lost totally in her thoughts, Hermione did not notice that the end of the class had been called, and it was only thanks to a gentle touch of Harry's that Hermione was not left sitting in the classroom once everyone else had gone. Quickly gathering her things together, she moved over to the door, following Harry and Ron, who were both oddly silent, instead of involving themselves in a conversation about the amount of work they had before them.
"Miss Granger."
Hermione paused as she reached the door, turning around to face the professor, who had called her name. "I trust that you are feeling better now?" Hermione nodded. "That is good. You really should have gone to see Madam Pomfrey, if for nothing more than the air. Friends always think that they have your best interests in mind, but sometimes they are misguided, and it is those that see things from a different perspective that can be the best judge of what is right and what is not."
Hermione stared, trying to fathom what exactly the professor was getting at, but there was something in the way she spoke that made the young witch wonder if there was more than she thought. "I will remember that, Professor Stygian."
The professor smiled. "Your friends are waiting for you; you'd better not let them begin to worry."
Hermione nodded and returned the woman's smile, feeling a shiver run over her body. The death head's smile vanished, and the older witch turned and walked back over to her desk. Hermione had disappeared through the door before she had made it halfway across the room.
"What did she want?" Ron asked as soon as Hermione had appeared at the door.
Hermione smiled, as she reached her two friends. "Nothing, she just wanted to make sure I was all right." She fell silent, wanting that to be an end of the subject. She needed to clear her mind, needed to sort out the whirl that was going on inside her head.
"Are you alright?" Harry asked after they had gone a couple of steps down the corridor.
Hermione nodded. "Yes, I'm fine."
"It was strange you fainting like that," Ron added, not letting the subject drop.
Shrugging her shoulders, Hermione continued walking back towards the Gryffindor common room. "I think I just got a little hot." She laughed lightly, trying to ease everyone's mind. "You know how Dark Arts does that sometimes, it all becomes a little oppressive in that room."
"Especially with Stygian's stare. I swear she could kill with that stare alone," Ron grimaced, shaking his body in mock fear.
Harry grinned. "We could send her after Voldemort with that look, I don't think even the Dark Lord could withstand it."
Hermione stopped walking, her gaze no longer focused on the corridor ahead, but once more the image of the professor came to her. There gazing into her face, before she slowly seemed to get further and further away, almost disappearing into the distance, before her image became fogged out, almost like a cloud.
"Hermione, what is it?" Harry asked, his hand resting on her shoulder.
Hermione shook the vision from her mind. "Harry, did Professor Stygian do something in the lesson? Did she appear to perform some kind of magic during the class, other than what she was teaching?"
Harry frowned. "No, no I don't think so." He looked at Ron, the crease in his brow deepening. "Did you see anything, Ron?"
The red haired wizard looked blankly between Harry and Hermione. "No, no she didn't do anything. She merely looked in your direction and then raced over to you once you fell to the ground."
"Why?" Harry asked, his voice sounding puzzled.
"I don't know why, but every time I look at Professor Stygian I get a really bad feeling." Hermione shook her head sadly, rolling her eyes. "I think she was right, I think I should have gone to see Madam Pomfrey. What is the matter with me today? First a bad dream, then I faint and now I have the strangest feeling that something bad is going to happen. I will be glad once today is over and all of this is behind me."
Harry looked at Ron, who returned his gaze before they both turned and faced Hermione. "Are you sure you're alright?" They both asked, almost in unison.
Hermione laughed. "I'm fine, honestly." She started off back down the corridor. "I just need to get my head around some things. Come on, let's go. The quicker we get back to Gryffindor the quicker we can begin the homework we've been set."
Ron groaned. "Yes, there's nothing wrong with Hermione. She's sounding like her normal self already."
Hermione smiled, as the three of them continued towards their common room. The young witch, surrounded by her best friends, used the time to try to remember where she had seen Professor Stygian before.
* * * * *
Things began to return to normal, at least normal for the trio, as they settled into completing their school work, as well as striving towards finding the Horcruxes. The days seemed to merge into each other, and they found each one racing onward, giving them little time to get anything done. Harry was finding it the hardest to settle, so keen was he to get on with the task that Dumbledore had set them. But despite all their problems, they managed to keep their spirits up.
Things took a turn for the worse, when the three Hogwarts students paid their first visit to Grimmauld Place, finding nothing to help them with their quest. Harry had been annoyed that they had come back empty handed. There was no sign of the locket or any information about how do destroy a Horcrux. The three had left the house feeling dejected and no closer than they had been before their visit.
All was not bad, or at least, it seemed not that bad, when Hermione and Harry were chosen to be Head Boy and Girl, which gave them more privacy than they had had previously. Hermione took a while to get over the choice that she had made, feeling that she had pushed Ron out of the way for Harry, which made her feel guilty every time she spent time with the red haired boy. This was not so much of a problem when Ron threw himself into Quidditch with a vengeance, but it did mean that she saw little of him, and the time that they shared with each other began to dwindle.
Which, while not the best of situations for their relationship, did help them when it came to dealing with Harry, who always seemed a little uncomfortable whenever Hermione had some time with Ron, and it also made Hermione feel better, as she had always had trouble displaying affection in front of Harry, as she felt that Harry had given up on Ginny just for the sake of the quest for Horcruxes. Harry had sacrificed so much, and it pained Hermione to see him missing what she had with Ron.
Ginny was not helping Hermione with her constant questions about Harry, begging the older witch to help her get Harry back. The more time went on, the more Hermione could understand Harry needing space from Ron's sister. The youngest Weasley did not know the full extent of what lay before Harry Potter, the Chosen One, but Hermione doubted whether anything would have been different even if she did. Having offered to talk to Harry for Ginny, Hermione was left wishing she had made a different decision, as the red head constantly questioned her about her success, and when she was unable to ask, she merely stared.
Things were happening too fast for Hermione, not that they were getting anything done, but time was most certainly not their friend, and it seemed that the year would be over before they had even found the first of the remaining Horcruxes.
* * * * *
It was beginning to grow light when the trio returned triumphant from Grimmauld Place and reached the safety of the communal room that Harry and Hermione shared. Pulling off the invisibility cloak with a flourish, Harry grinned and dropped it onto the back of one of the chairs.
"I have to say it. That was a most exceptional night." Harry pulled out the locket from his pocket and looked at the golden oval hanging on the chain, now thoroughly devoid of its former occupant. "I really didn't think we would be able to do it."
Ron walked up to Harry and looked over his shoulder, his eyes fixed to the gleaming locket, which seemed even more alive than it had done. "Who would have thought that something so small could have caused so much trouble?" He turned to Hermione. "Do you think they'll all be like that?"
Hermione shrugged. "I don't think they will get any easier, but now we know what is in it, and we know that we can destroy it." Hermione waved her wand at the fire as she drew near and brought it to life with a quick spell. "But we really should not get over confident."
"But we know we can do it. That has to make a difference." Harry moved over to where Hermione was standing, Ron following just behind.
Grinning, Ron lowered himself into one of the chairs with a long drawn out sigh, his gaze flicking between his two friends. "One down. Dumbledore would be proud of you, Harry."
Harry shook his head, his dark mop taking on a life of its own. "Proud of us. I couldn't have done it without the two of you." The smile on his face fell slightly, but his expression remained excited. "I thought I had to do this on my own, but I was wrong. You two are the best friends I could have."
Hermione looked at Harry and smiled, her eyes twinkling with happiness. "We will always be there for you, Harry. Won't we, Ron?"
The youngest Weasley son nodded his head. "You can count on us, Harry."
Their congratulations and elation was brought to an end by the soft chiming of one of the clocks, revealing the lateness of the hour, or more precisely, the closeness of dawn. After a series of goodbyes and further words of congratulation, Ron left the room, hidden from view by the cloak of invisibility. Once he had been gone for a couple of minutes, Harry walked over to Hermione, where she stood still warming herself by the fire.
"I really can't believe we did it," Harry remarked as he opened his hand, once more looking at the locket that lay within. "When that thing rammed into Ron, I thought we were all going to die."
Hermione shivered despite the heat from the fire, her mind once more plagued with visions that chilled her to the bone. She frowned as the images played out before her eyes, haunting her waking moments. As Harry turned towards her, Hermione took a step forward, her arms wrapping around his body, holding him close. She could still see the face of Harry swimming around before her, his face no longer alive, and there before him was Voldemort, bringing forth the stroke of death.
Harry looked down into Hermione's face, watching the tears stream down her cheeks. He gently brushed a couple away and smiled down at her. "Are you alright, Hermione?"
Hermione raised her eyes to his, unable for a moment to speak. "Harry, do you remember I once had a bad dream, one about you being killed by Voldemort?"
Harry nodded, his smile slipping. "Yes, I remember the morning; you woke up and found me in the common room." His expression changed, looking at her questioningly. "That was of last night? Your dream was of last night's battle with Voldemort spirit?"
Shaking her head, Hermione frowned. "No, I…I thought the dreams would go once we destroyed the first Horcrux, but it's still there. I can still see him…see him…"
"Killing me?" Harry asked, his voice quivering slightly.
"He isn't alone, he's with people." Hermione laughed suddenly, the sound not at all joyous. "What am I talking about, Harry? I'm not a seer, I never have been. I'm taking this far too seriously. It was only a bad dream."
Harry nodded. "Yes, it was only a bad dream." He gently stroked her hair, his fingers brushing very lightly. "And it has been a very long night. You need to sleep; you'll feel better in the morning."
Hermione wrapped her arms a little tighter around Harry and smiled. "Thank you, Harry. Most people would think I was going mad or something." She pressed a tender kiss to his cheek, and released her arms from around his body. "Goodnight, Harry."
"Goodnight, Hermione." Harry smiled; his hand falling away from her body, as his other slowly let her hair fall about his fingers. "Have pleasant dreams."
"I will," she replied, her gaze fixed to his, as she stood watching him for a moment. She walked over to her door, placing her hand lightly on the handle. Looking back, she watched as Harry played with the locket that rested in his hand.
"Tomorrow we can begin searching for the next one," she called over to him, smiling as her gaze once more found his.
Nodding his head, Harry gave Hermione a reassuring smile. "And then the fun starts all over again." He wrapped his fingers tightly around the golden oval, and moved over to his bedroom door. "See you in the morning, Hermione."
"Take care, Harry."
Hermione and Harry continued to stare at one another for a moment, not speaking, but sharing silent words, then as if on cue they both turned and entered their rooms.
* * * * *
Hermione pulled the covers around her body, forcing the cool air from her skin. She lay gazing at the ceiling, feeling very alone. She was not sure why, but now more than ever she did not want to be by herself. They had been through so much that night; had faced death and had come out the other side alive and closer to destroying Voldemort than they had ever been. They had proven that together, the three of them were able to defeat Voldemort, which could only add to their motivation and determination. And it was true what Harry had said, Dumbledore would have been proud of them.
She turned over, trying to force herself to sleep, knowing that in only a few more hours she would be forced to get back out of bed, and it would be hard to face the day ahead without any sleep at all. A few hours were better than nothing. She listened in the darkness, listening to the creaking of the old building as it rested its aged body, that had echoed the footsteps of the greatest and most evil of wizards and witches.
A gentle whoosh of wind swept around outside, brushing against the building's skin. A clock ticked nearby, echoed by one slightly fainter, the sound reminding Hermione of someone with a limp walking down the corridor. Then the sound grew louder and louder, seeming to stop just outside the door to the communal lounge which lead to the corridor.
Closing her eyes, Hermione felt the pull of sleep on her tired body. As her conscious mind left her in the land of dreams, she seemed to float out across her bedroom, floating ghostlike through the door and into the lounge. Her light as a breeze body moved silently through the darkened room, stopping as she reached the door. A hand not made of flesh, reached for the doorknob, fingers wrapping around the globe, pulling the door open.
The figure remained wrapped in shadows, cloak blowing gently in a non-existent wind. The shape turned, slowly, a strange presence about it, foreboding in its silence. Finally, the ghostly Hermione looked into the eyes of the Death's Head that sneered before vanishing in a puff of green smoke.