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Foresight

sandtreader

Disclaimer: All characters, events and references drawn from HP belong to J.K. Rowling, etc., respectively, everything else is my own invention.

FORESIGHT

PART SEVEN

Hermione had a thousand questions on her mind as she crossed through the large entranceway into the castle at Hogwarts school. She tried not to look too conspicuous in glancing at the black robed warlocks guarding the entrance and opening the huge wooden doors for her. They looked to her like slimmed down versions of Mad-Eye Moody, but not so scarred and beaten up. They were, by all rights, hired mercenaries but also consummate professionals, she knew that much. Their serious look and strong demeanor made a formidable impression on her. She felt a sense of dread in the presence of these iconical Aurors who hailed from every part of the country, but she was also glad they were on her side.

She felt a little concerned for Harry and Ron, who were heading to Hogsmeade after leaving her at Hogwarts gate. The three of them had been caught by Voldemort's servants in too many public places so many times now. Though able to get through every trap they had found themselves in, up to this point, all it would take is one misstep and it could all be over very quickly. But she had, after all, insisted on seeing Professor McGonagall alone, though both Harry and Ron had vigorously objected. She could understand that. They were as curious to know what was behind Dumbledore's note as she was. It had been the center of conversation and debate among the three of them ever since leaving her parent's house. But she was able to convince them that Dumbledore had left the note for her specifically, for some reason, so she should honor that by doing what the note said, alone. She could focus on what this was all about much better without the two of them standing over her shoulder anyway, she thought. She would fill them in on everything when they returned. They had not warned the Professor, now Headmistress, of their arrival. They had learned the hard way not to do that a few times over the course of the past months.

As Hermione ascended the first flight of steps up toward the main corridor, she began wondering if the Professor might be in her office or in a class at this time of the morning. She again reached into her pocket to feel the key and note, ready to show them to McGonagall and start her barrage of questions over what all of this could mean. And perhaps she would also be able to glean some insight into how Dumbledore seemed to have the most amazing gift of foresight of any person she had ever known or read about. As much as she disdained her and hated her classes, Hermione couldn't help but see Professor Trelawney now even more as some pitiful side show entertainer alongside what Dumbledore had apparently done. But she was even more curious to know what exactly Dumbledore's key opened, if it actually opened anything.

As Hermione rounded the landing to the main stairs, her thoughts were so preoccupied, with questions and musing about the whole affair, that she was stunned to find Professor McGonagall standing at the top of the stairs in the main corridor. After pausing, Hermione began to climb toward the Professor who stood almost statuesque in her emerald green robes, her hands clasped together in front of her in a very proper fashion. Hermione saw the dark eyes of the Professor gazing at her with a most serious gaze, but was surprised to see her then smile a little, with the look of a loving grandmother. Hermione smiled back, glad to see the one person she had come to admire so much at the school over the years, the same one she originally dreaded most. Her admiration for the Professor had increased all the more when she saw how McGonagall handled the Headmaster position after Dumbledore had been killed. The school's continuing operation in such an efficient manner, even since the war had begun, was a great mark of how wise the Professor was and it shone in her personality. Hermione was now more eager than ever to learn what the Professor might tell her, and was about to say as much.

"I trust you have the key?" McGonagall queried, now serious and businesslike again.

Hermione was astonished at the question. How did she… But apparently there was no time. Hermione pulled the golden, jewel encrusted key out of her pocket to show the headmistress.

"This way, if you please, Miss Granger." The Professor said, turning towards the long corridor leading to the main tower.

Now Hermione's curiosity has risen to the point of bursting. What did the Professor really know about all this? How could she know that they were coming to the school at this time? Her head swam with so much to take in, but she now perceived that the woman walking briskly in front of her had so much more to her than what she was letting on. She was dying to say something, but for some reason felt that at this moment it was not appropriate. She had just better follow and learn.

Hermione found herself having to pick up her pace a bit just to keep up with the Professor. The two of them passed an open classroom. It was Flitwick's class, still in session. As she walked by, she peered into the room to see the students busy writing and recognized several of the third years who turned to gaze at the passersby. They instantly recognized Hermione and waved at her enthusiastically. Hermione waved back with a smile, and felt a tug in her heart. She missed this so much. Her time as a prefect of Gryffindor had not only endeared her to many of the students, especially the first years in her charge, but had brought her to an idea she had been bouncing around for some time since - the possibility of becoming a professor herself one day. Perhaps when this whole situation with the horcruxes and Voldemort was over she could return, finish her schooling and move on into a higher wizarding school to obtain the qualifications to teach. She felt that would be the best way to use all the knowledge she had gained over the years. But if it were only that easy.

She, Harry and Ron were nearing the end of their searches, but even when they finally destroyed the last horcrux, the idea of confronting Voldemort seemed like such an immense juggernaut in comparison. Things weren't going well for the Ministry these days, being stretched so thin in all directions, trying to fight a war with the Dark Lord and his seemingly endless supply of willing servants, while being stymied by bureaucratic red tape that made it almost impossible to get anything done. Professor McGonagall had fought vigorously to have the governors of Hogwarts and the Ministry send the special warlock guard to protect the school. From what Hermione remembered, she had even threatened to resign as headmistress if they did not do so immediately. So the Ministry finally caved, fearing her loss, though Hermione knew deep down that the Professor would not think of leaving Hogwarts and was so adamant about the issue precisely because she loved the students and her fellow professors too much.

With all the chaos and confusion that the war had brought into her world, one thing troubled Hermione more than any of it. Harry. She was so concerned for him, even more than ever. He had taken too much on his shoulders, she thought. He saw himself, not as the 'saviour' of their world, but as the only one willing to do anything definite about it's troubles with Voldemort. She knew no one believed in his 'responsibility' more than he did and that he was determined to see it through, if only because Dumbledore had seemed to put such a high expectation on him. Hermione thought of all the times during the past several months when the two of them had argued over Harry's almost reckless abandon in his quest for the horcruxes. She let him know how worried she was for her friend who she cared so deeply for, but he seemed to get annoyed with her more often and all but told her to let him be on several occasions.

However, she herself was determined to see this thing through, at his side, by all means possible, no matter where that might lead and what consequences the three of them would have to face. She knew Harry needed her, even if he sometimes acted as though he could do this alone. And she found an ally in Ron. She and Ron had discussed what was happening with Harry and they both had agreed to do whatever possible to make sure their friend came through this situation not only alive, but sane. Ron had somewhat matured over the course of their search and she was glad to see him move beyond some of his more self-centered thinking, and begin to really put Harry and even her interests ahead of his own. But that didn't stop their occasional fallouts and arguments.

She was still upset with Ron for what he had said to her last year. Though the two of them had sort of planed out in regards to their 'understanding' of each other, it miffed her that he had so readily dismissed her claims of affection for him. His reaction to her attempts at building a relationship had been at the least frustrating and at the most, deeply hurtful - a la the incident with Lavender. But his explanation for his behavior was what really got her. Sure she loved Harry, as any close friend would. She had been in love with him before, but that seemed so long ago now. She remembered the awe and wonder she held of him after that troll incident. He had saved her life. She had never had such a crush on a boy before that time. And she also cherished the seemingly natural bond that had developed between the two of them. But as their friendship grew, so did her feelings for him.

They had such a way together that she never felt uneasy or awkward with him, even in their occasional displays of affection, something which did irk Ron more than once. But if Harry only had known how much that had meant to her, that it meant far more than simply being a grateful friend. There were so many times she wanted to tell him how she felt, but the bond between them had taken them in a direction where that seemed impossible sometimes. And he was so distracted all the time with Quidditch, Ron, classes, and all those times where he had been engaged in personal battles with Voldemort's servants and their plots, not to mention Voldemort himself returning in their fourth year. That fourth year.

She remembered being so excited about the Yule Ball. Even though it was Krum who ended up asking her, she was thrilled that someone had noticed her enough to put forth the effort. After fixing her teeth and dressing up like she had never done before, she felt like royalty walking into the Great Hall with a Tri-Wizard champion, watching all the guys oogle her and the girls turning away with disdain. Hermione Granger, a beauty? But the one person she wanted more than any to notice her was strangely silent about the whole affair. A word from Harry about how she looked that night would have made her week, especially coming from a friend with whom she felt such a strong connection. But alas, while he did seem surprised, he never said much of anything. And that was the problem.

Despite their continuing friendship, he never really let on that he liked her more than just as a friend. She didn't know whether it was because he was just shy or because he simply didn't see anything beyond what they already had. They were still very young, however. But this disinterest on his part had caused her such consternation at times. She had come to recognize that the connection they did have together was very rare, even in the wizarding world. But the idea of derailing their friendship because of her own feelings, however, was something she simply could not do to Harry, especially as the burdens of what he was facing became greater and greater. She did not want to lose him no matter how she might feel about him, and that made her determined to stick with him at all costs, even the most painful cost - her own heart. It became worse before it got better, but Hermione did everything in her power to try and put her feelings behind her, sensing that Harry just would not budge.

She was rather proud of herself now, despite the frustration she had felt in seeing Harry share time with Ginny, something she discovered had made her jealous more for their friendship than simply because of the way she felt. But she had finally come to a place where she was able to still be with Harry and not chafe at his disinterest in her romantically. After trying to get Ron's attentions and failing at that, she had begun to look towards her own future and the thought of teaching was becoming more and more attractive every day. She did not know where the future would lead the three of them after Voldemort was gone, but she felt good about the prospects and possibilities for her life, except for one thing.

Something had been bothering her for some time now. It was something she couldn't exactly put her finger on, but it was always there in the back of her mind, following her like a shadow. She noticed that it caused her to lose her temper a little bit quicker than usual, even Ron and Harry noticed that. Her snaps with Ron would seem more intense too. She seemed to be struggling with some unknown factor that had begun to affect her more than just on the surface. It was so frustrating, the occasional feeling of listlessness or boredom that overcame her, especially when she had something very important to do. This simply was not acceptable to her usually acute and organized way of thinking, but she felt powerless to change it. She just didn't know what was bothering her so much to cause all these strange feelings. But she hoped that maybe she could find an answer during their stay at the school. If anyone might know, Professor McGonagall would. She would confide in her, if possible, after they had done whatever they were supposed to do with Dumbledore's key. Maybe armed with knowledge from an experienced, older woman she highly respected, she could get through it. But clearly now was not the time.

Hermione was once again walking up that same marble staircase leading to the main tower that she had so many times before. The Professor had gone to the first landing and then turned, going up a flight of stairs that Hermione knew led to the Ravenclaw dormitories. As she followed McGonagall, she glanced up the stairway leading up towards the Gryffindor tower, the fat lady still in her portrait, apparently busy rearranging flowers.

"Hello Miss Granger!" a voice rang out as Hermione ascended the stairs.

"Hello Mister Thomas!" she spat back at the painting of an old man who would continually fall asleep trying to read a book that he would never finish. As soon as he smiled at her, he drifted off, hunching over his open book, asleep again.

Everywhere the paintings in the tower hall were alive with their seemingly trapped denizens moving about and conversing with each other as they had always done. The stairwells too were still moving about on their own, something that had frustrated Hermione many times when she had been late for some class and forgot an important book or some notes in her Gryffindor dorm room.

McGonagall had reached the second landing and stopped, waiting for Hermione to catch up. When she finally arrived on the landing, the Professor, after giving Hermione a quick glance, turned, pulled out her wand and tapped three times on the railing, muttering something so quietly that Hermione could not understand her. Suddenly the railing shifted out of sight and another sprang out from the wall on the opposite side of the landing. The entire stairwell lurched and then began to move around to face one of the walls on the opposite side of the hall. It came to rest at the foot of another large painting, with a very handsomely dressed man sitting at a dinner table, seemingly eating food that never was completely consumed.

"I'll teach you the spell to move the stairwells later, Miss Granger," the Professor spoke softly, leaning towards Hermione as though she didn't want anyone else to hear. "The paintings are always listening," she continued with a half smile.

Hermione ascended the stair, after the Professor, up to the landing and stopped again. She did not recognize this painting and had never seen the stairwells move to this particular place before.

"Good morning Professor," the fine mannered older gentleman in the painting spoke, getting up from his meal.

"Good morning Colonel," she responded to the portrait as thought they were old friends.

"Do come through, do come through," he stated in a highly polished English accent. He then glanced at Hermione and gave her a very polite bow and a smile.

"Thank you, Colonel. Good day," McGonagall responded.

The painting swung open just like it would at any of the house entrances, revealing a locked door behind it. McGonagall then tapped on three specific places on the wooden door. Suddenly, Hermione heard the sound of bolts moving and locks clicking out of place. The door then opened on it's own and the two of them entered.

"That is our guardian, Hermione. He is one of the more loyal paintings we have in the tower," the Professor informed her. "I had him brought up from one of the lower corridors to stand watch over this particular entrance."

Hermione was listening intently to the Professor and was about to ask her a question when the realization of where they were hit her. The third floor corridor! As the pyres began lighting up along the walls, she recognized the old grotesque still covered in spider webs. She hadn't set foot in here since her first year when she, Ron and Harry had fled from Mrs. Norris and Filch. They approached the end of the hall and Hermione glared at the same door the three of them had fled through, where they had first met Fluffy, Hagrid's three-headed dog, in a not so good mood.

McGonagall stopped by the door and turned to Hermione.

"I believe you know the password to this door, Miss Granger," she said very matter of factly.

Hermione felt a little silly at the idea of what she thought the Professor wanted her to do, but then pulled out her wand.

"Alohomora?" she said, doing the same thing she had done so many years back.

The door unlocked and began to open. Hermione's heart raced a little, expecting one of Fluffy's enormous heads to pop out immediately. But she then remembered Hagrid saying he had sold him to someone from the Durmstrang school a few years back. Sure enough, as she followed the Professor into the corridor, it was completely empty. As the two of them hurried along the corridor, Hermione glanced down at the trapdoor in the floor, still in place, through which they had gone to find the stone. She couldn't help but smile at seeing it again.

McGonagall stopped about halfway down the corridor and turned to face the wall, to a place between two of the columns that lined the corridor. To Hermione, there seemed nothing special about the particular spot that the Professor had stopped at, so she watched very attentively as McGonagall pulled out her wand again.

"Exitum Orientus," the Professor spoke, again tapping the wall between the columns three times, and glancing at Hermione to see if she was paying attention.

'Hmm' Hermione thought, she knew the first part of that spell, but the second must be a special password. She wondered how she would be able to remember all this, if that was indeed what the Professor was implying.

There was the sound of a thump of stone coming from behind the wall, then suddenly the wall shifted backwards and then slid to the right, revealing a narrow corridor with a winding stair going down. As the two of them descended now, small gargoyle shaped pyres lit up just before their approach, until they at last reached the bottom. McGonagall moved toward a seemingly blank wall and pressed her hand against it, repeating the same spell as before. Hermione then noticed the outline of an arched doorway form in the wall and watched the Professor open it. They walked into a large corridor that Hermione recognized immediately. The key room!

This was the room with the flying keys, where Harry used the broomstick to catch the one they needed to get through the door. She looked to her right at the darkened doorway on one side of the chamber. That was the door that led back to the Devil's Snare. She then followed McGonagall through the doorway to the next chamber and Hermione was wondering if it was still the way she had remembered it. Yes it was. She found herself walking across the large chessboard with the Professor. There were no chess pieces to be found this time however, but she did glance briefly over to the spot where Ron had fallen after being hit by that queen.

When she entered the next chamber, after passing the small room where they has found the unconscious troll, a flood of memories and emotions swept over her to see that old table pushed to the side, with all those potion bottles still sitting on top. Seeing so many of these familiar sights again seemed to be awakening something in her of the former days that had been lost in the shuffle of her life over the years. Memories of things she had seen and felt came over her afresh, as though she had just experienced them for the first time.

There were no black flames to impede her progress this time, however, as she continued to follow the Professor into the final chamber - the one where Harry had faced Professor Quirell and Voldemort. As she entered, she looked around to see the columns against the walls and a small stone altar at the opposite end, but otherwise the chamber was completely empty. Too bad, she thought. Harry had told her that Dumbledore had placed the Mirror of Erised in here as the final riddle for the whereabouts of Flamel's Philosopher's Stone. She had been so curious about it ever since. She remembered Harry's vivid and excited description of seeing his parents in the mirror when he had gazed into it for the first time. She would have liked to have seen it herself, she thought, wondering what she might see about her own heart.

Hermione realized that she had wandered off in her mind for a moment and noticed the Professor waiting a little impatiently for her on one side of the chamber, again at a place in the wall that was not terribly conspicuous. She hurried over to McGonagall who then proceeded to repeat the spell and tappings as before. How many secret doors and corridors were there? What was so important that it had to be hidden so secretly and safely down in the depths below the castle?

The wall slid away just as the one above had done and they again descended a narrow corridor. As they approached the bottom, however, this time Hermione could hear the sound of water lapping against stone. They moved out of the corridor into an apparently dark cavern, that could simply not be seen in it's totality, even when Professor McGonagall lit her wand. What Hermione could see was that they were standing on a stone landing which dropped off into a dark, murky body of water which stretched out of sight on either side of the range of the Professor's wand.

Directly in front of them was a small, shallow, flat bottomed boat that seemed to stay right against the landing without ropes of any kind. The Professor motioned to Hermione to enter the boat. She did so and sat on one of it's small benches. McGonagall then entered it herself and the boat proceeded to move of it's own accord away from the landing and into the darkness.

Pretty soon Hermione couldn't see anything but water around them and darkness everywhere except for the bluish white glow coming from the tip of the Professor's wand. The way the noises reflected off of the dark ceiling of the corridor seemed to suggest that this was some enormous underground lake. 'But where could we possibly be going?' Hermione wondered to herself.

She suddenly noticed something in the water. She moved closer to the edge of the boat to peer into it's black depths. At first she thought her mind was playing tricks on her. It appeared to be a very large oblong form about the size of a whale, moving alongside the boat rapidly. But when she noticed several more of these shapes further out in the water, and then saw one criss-cross the other, she knew she wasn't imagining things. A terror swept over her heart at the sight of these black forms.

"Professor, what are those?" she asked McGonagall, who turned around to look.

The Professor's eyes widened and a deeply serious look came over her.

"You don't want to know, Miss Granger," she stated, looking a little worried. "Suffice it to say, the wrong person attempting to cross this lake would find themselves acquainted with them rather quickly, in which case they would not live to tell about it."

"They are the Guardians," the Professor then spoke quietly and firmly, leaning in towards Hermione. McGonagall then turned back to face the direction the boat was taking them. Hermione almost let out a scream upon turning to gaze into the water one last time. She saw for a brief moment, what looked like a blood red eyeball with a deep black pupil gazing back and then disappearing.

Finally, Hermione saw another landing up ahead, looking very similar to the one they had come from. The boat slowed down and turned to rest up against this landing in the same fashion. The Professor stepped out and Hermione followed her to a wall where an old wooden door stood closed. Expecting the Professor to use another spell and tappings to open it, she was surprised instead to see her simply push the door open. If any fool was actually able to make it passed those things in the water, they deserved whatever was behind this door, she mused, no locks needed.

They walked a short ways through another small corridor, lit this time by McGonagall's wand. Then Hermione noticed they had stepped into another large chamber, but couldn't make out what exactly what was in it without more light. Suddenly, the Professor's wand went out and Hermione found herself in complete darkness. Then she noticed the noises. She could hear rattlings, bangings on wood or metal, as well as something whooshing through the air. There were voices coming from some distance away, some laughing occasionally, others whispering or even crying in some bizarre cacophony. Hermione thought that she had either gone blind or there was some muggle construction crew attempting to build something in pitch black darkness.

Suddenly, she was startled by two pyres that lit up behind them on either side of the doorway. Then slowly more pyres lit up around the walls in succession, illuminating the entire chamber. Her jaw dropped when she saw what was before her…