Unofficial Portkey Archive

Chapter 5

It was an understatement to say that she was shocked at how huge the crowd was outside of the classroom. Frightened and bewildered seemed to fit the description much better. But Hermione knew at once that they had to run in order to escape what was sure to be a full uprising. She and Harry ran down the nearest corridor, everything becoming a blur as they picked up speed. When they finally stopped to catch their breathes, they each shared a look of relief.

"That was a close one." Harry said.

Hermione nodded meekly in response, "Too close."

"I didn't think that word traveled that fast around here."

She snorted, "You're joking, right?"

He smiled at her, "I guess you're right. But I didn't think that it would be this much of a bother."

Hermione gave him a look and he immediately backed down. "We haven't even been partners for a whole day and now we have an angry mob waiting at our classroom door."

"Could you really expect anything less?" He said with an incredulous look.

"This school needs a wake-up call. This feud has been going on for too long with no good reason behind it. You think the defeat of the most powerful Dark Lord in centuries would brighten their outlooks on life a little bit"

"My opinion entirely." He agreed.

"Well, I guess we'll just have to deal with it for now. I don't think that there is much we can do about it."

He nodded, "Come on, I'll walk you to your common room."

She gave him a weird glance and took his extended hand. How did he know where the Gryffindor Common Room was? Then again, it was a kind of obvious entrance. She decided to ask no more questions and let him lead her to the staircases.

Throughout the whole journey they were enveloped in a comfortable silence. No words needed to be exchanged in order to bring about any more conflict. When they reached the familiar portrait he let go of her hand, letting a cool breeze sweep over it at the loss of contact.

"I guess I'll see you tomorrow night, after dinner?"

"Yeah, definitely. Get ready to do some major reading, Potter." She teased.

"Looking forward to it, Granger." He said. There was a pause. When she thought he was making a move to leave, he turned around and gave her a swift peck on the cheek. "Goodnight, Hermione."

She felt color rise up into her cheeks, but fended it off as she replied with a curt "Goodnight, Harry." in response. When his form could no longer be seen she let the pink tinge spread on her cheeks as she placed her cool palm upon it in an attempt to calm herself. She felt the blush wilt away, but the place where his lips met her skin still remained warm. She bit her lip and let out a steady breath.

Calm yourself, Granger, her mind spoke, it's just a boy.

A very cute boy . . . who just happened to give you a kiss.

On the cheek. Truly platonic intentions.

Right.

Hermione groaned. The last thing she wanted was another internal battle with herself. For all she knew, people would start calling her neurotic by next week. Well, she was kind of . . . No.

"Do you have any intention to come inside, dear?" she heard a voice call from behind her. The fat lady was looking at her with an indescribable expression on her face and her hands on her hips.

"Oh, I'm sorry." She apologized, "Flobberworm."

The portrait nodded and opened up to let her inside. When she entered the tower, she found it completely deserted. Not even a few first years playing wizard's chess. Hermione frowned in disgust. This school really needed to get new hobbies.

Hermione walked up to her dormitory and found it, too, was completely empty. What a shocker. She made her way into the bathroom and prepared herself a nice bubble bath. It had been a stressful day, and she had to take advantage of the vacant dorm. She set up candles from her trunk around the marble tub and added some of the lavender-scented bath salt her mother had sent her. It was uncanny how well her mother knew her. Soon, she found herself enveloped in bubbles and began to feel her body relax. She buried herself within the tub and let her mind wander.

It seemed as though her life was one big soap opera, not unlike the ones she used to watch when she was spending time with her mother. Sometimes Hermione half-expected her half-brother from Indonesia to show up during dinner and confess that he has to have brain surgery that will most likely be deadly since it was being performed by Neville Longbottom. She snorted. In her life, nothing was impossible; it all began when she had gotten her Hogwarts letter all those years ago . . .

But those were simpler times. Times when she didn't even know that Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry existed. Times where the only important thing to lose any sleep over was what food items she was going to trade at lunch the next day. Simple wasn't a part of her vocabulary anymore.

Hermione sighed as she started to hum absently, a familiar tune that she couldn't place. She let her eyes shut lazily as she let her mind go completely blank of all coherent thoughts. She heard the door open slightly and she opened her eyes to take a peek at who it was. It was only Crookshanks. The feline jumped onto the thick edge of the tub and purred softly, giving Hermione some well-needed company.

After about a half of an hour, Hermione forced herself out of the cool water. She laughed when she looked down at her hands and saw they looked like prunes. Grabbing a fluffy towel off of the rack, she made her way to her canopy and changed for bed. It was only six in the evening, but she didn't feel like eating anything and the lure of her warm sheets and fluffy pillow was becoming more and harder to resist.

She tucked into her covers and let her eyes drift close once again as dreams soon entered her still working mind.

She was walking. Walking through what seemed to be a long corridor. Her footsteps echoed off of the stone walls and the candles aligned on the wall flickered when she moved past them. It was very quiet. Too quiet for anything to seem at ease. Her feet guided her along the maze of hallways until she reached an open doorway. She pushed it open with slight curiosity and was overwhelmed with light.

She covered her eyes as she adjusted to the change of scene. It seemed as though she was in a field of some kind. With tall, dry grasses and what looked to be a playground in the distance. It was so hot outside that she began to feel sweat accumulate on her brow. She wiped the beads away as she continued to walk down the worn-down path. Someone else had been here.

There was no wind, yet the two swings on the swing set portion of the playground swayed in tune with each other, causing a shiver to erupt down Hermione's spine. She looked around the deserted area and called out, "Hello?"

There was no answer, so she tried again, "Hello . . . is anyone there?"

Again, only silence answered her calls. She sighed in frustration and made her way to the tiny metal carousel towards the middle of the playground. Hermione sat down and lent her back against the curved middle of the contraption.

All of a sudden the sunlight that was warming her face seemed to disappear. As she looked up to try to make sense of the disturbance, Hermione saw that a few stray black rainclouds had made their way in front of the sun. Soon, those few lonesome rainclouds were accompanied by more and more even larger, dark, clouds until the entire blue sky was enveloped by darkness.

A cool wind began to blow stray rocks and sand into the air. Hermione coughed as some of the small fragments made their way into her mouth and airstream. When she finished coughing, Hermione saw a slight orange light in the near distance.

"Hello?" she called out, "Who's there? Hello?"

She got up from her position on the carousel and stepped on top of it, squinting to get a closer look at the mysterious light in the distance. It was getting closer, coming towards her at a steady pace. She began to hear muffled voices . . . angry voices. The distant light was coming closer . . . closer. Hermione could finally make out some of the figures in the distance. They looked to be just normal, human beings . . . carrying some sort of torches with bright orange fire atop of them. Hermione didn't have to think hard to guess what else they were holding in their arms.

She gulped and jumped off of her parch. It was a mob. A very, very angry mob. And they were coming for her, she just knew it. So she ran. She ran as fast as she could back towards the path where she came from. But when she looked for the familiar patted-down patches of grass, they were no longer visible. She was trapped. The voices were getting closer; she didn't dare turn around. Hermione thought she saw a slight shadow in the distance in the shape of a building. An escape!

She began to sprint towards the building, as if her life depended on it. Which, she was sure it really did. As she became closer to the shadow she saw that it was a fairly large building. It looked as though it could have been a rather nice house, a mansion of a wealthy family, perhaps. The shingles were faded and tinted black, the shutters were askew, the grass was unkempt. It had probably been abandoned for a fair few years.

Admiring the house had its consequences. When she turned around, she saw that the mob was directly in front of her. She hadn't even heard them approach. Her breath became ragged, her body shaking in horror. She tried to make out some faces and gasped when she saw her fellow alumni staring back at her. There was Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnigan, Draco Malfoy, Terry Boot, Millicent Bulstrode, Ron Weasley, Luna Lovegood, and . . . no, it couldn't be . . .

"Ginny?" she asked in a harsh whisper.

The redhead made her way through the crowd of people and faced Hermione with a smirk upon her lips. That smirk soon turned to a horrific frown. "You betrayed me, Hermione."

"What? No I didn't! You know I would never do anything to harm you or hurt you in any way!" she spoke frantically.

"You're a traitor. A dirty, filthy, Mudblood traitor!" she screamed at her.

Hermione shook her head furiously. "No." she whispered.

"Oh yes." Ginny began to approach her, the mob following close behind.

"NO!" Hermione yelled at them. She turned around and ran towards the opening of the deserted house. She locked the door behind her and ran up to the flight of stairs she saw directly in front of her. The stairs led to a short corridor with a door towards the end. She sprinted towards the door and flew it open, locking it as well. She looked around the room as she steadied her breath. It looked to be a baby's nursery, with blue walls and matching blue and white furniture scattered everywhere. Out of curiosity, Hermione walked towards the crib, where she saw a mobile with tiny snitches and broomsticks dangling from it. She pulled on the tiny string and heard it play a tune that sounded vaguely like `Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star'. She smiled and felt the warm wool of the sheets. But the warm moment was ruined when she discovered a dark burn mark stained on a large part of the sheets. She ran her hand over it and was immediately overwhelmed with tears, though she did not know why.

She allowed herself to look to the left, where a small, wooden table lay tipped over on its side. She walked around it and saw small shards of glass surrounding the small area. The sharp objects crunched under her trainers as she bent down. She saw a single sheet of paper burred underneath the pile of rubble. She carefully pulled the paper out of its place and turned it over. It was a photograph . . . of a family. There was a tall, dark haired man with rounded spectacles with his arm around a beautiful young woman with auburn, cascading hair and sparkling emerald eyes. They were smiling and constantly glancing at the bundle within the woman's arms. The bundle shifted and Hermione saw the innocent face of an absolutely adorable baby boy with black hair to match his father's and shocking emerald green eyes like his mothers. She knew those eyes . . .

The room suddenly shook as a few of the paintings that aligned the walls fell from their places. Hermione clutched the photo to her chest as her breathing started to quicken. "Where's Potter to save you now, Granger?!" she heard a cold voice say. "Throw the torches!"

Throw the torches?!

She soon heard the sound of windows breaking downstairs and start to come closer. Soon the window in the room she was hiding in burst open and sent shards of glass flying at her. Hermione ran to a corner far from the window and shielded herself and the photo. When she looked up, she saw one of the torches that the mob members were holding on the floor, quickly catching the baby blue rug in the middle of the room on fire. She screamed.

She curled into a ball, uncertain of what to do. She felt for her wand, but found that her search was aimless. She had no source of protection. She was going to die. The flames were enveloping the nursery, catching the delicate wooden furniture pieces on fire and causing them to collapse. When the fire reached the crib, it slowly made the tune that the mobile was still playing melt away. Hermione let out a sob.

She clutched onto the photograph in her hands and gave it another glance. She looked at the smiling family and said "I'm sorry, Harry." The tears began to drip onto the photo as she sobbed on the floor in her fetal position. She rocked back and forth as she felt the flames come closer to her and begin to burn her skin.

She felt someone shake her shoulders. She craned her neck upwards and saw the dark figure of someone looming over her. The figure pulled her up and seemed to carry her through the flames, unscathed. When they reached the door and it opened, Hermione's eyes shot open along with it.

Sweat was accumulated on her brow as she lifted herself on her elbow and looked around her dormitory. Her breathing was heavy, about as heavy as it had been in her dream; no, her nightmare. She looked over at the clock beside her bed, five thirty in the morning. She had gotten over eleven hours of sleep. That was the most sleep she had had in a long time, especially with upcoming exams and projects looming around her. She lifted the covers off of her shivering body and made her way to the bathroom. When she looked in the mirror she saw she has tear-stains on her cheeks and her eyes were red and puffy. She quickly turned on the tap and splashed cold water in her face. If she wasn't awake, she was now.

Hermione quickly dressed and went down into the common room. When she was changing she heard the sound of heavy breathing throughout the room, signifying that her dorm mates had retuned sometime that night.

She took her normal seat on the overly stuffed scarlet sofa and looked at the paperwork that she left on the table a few nights ago. It was her unfinished Potions essay. It was ninety percent done, all she had to do was proofread it and double-check for any misspellings and grammar errors. So she set off doing just that, finishing up at around six thirty. It was still too early to go down to breakfast, so she decided to get a head start on her other assignments as she frequently glanced at the clock. When the clock struck seven thirty she decided it was safe to go down to breakfast.

She arrived in the hall as one of the first occupants of Gryffindor house, not an unusual occurrence. She glanced around the hall as she buttered her morning slice of toast and caught site of a few tired-looking fifth years at the Ravenclaw table supposedly cramming for an upcoming test or studying for their O.W.Ls. Hermione smirked, wondering if she had ever looked like that.

She adjusted herself on her seat and began to pick at her food. She was well on her second helping of kippers when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Assuming it was Ginny she turned around without a care, expecting to get some answers about last night out of her. She was proven wrong.

Hermione gasped as she met the familiar green eyes that she had seem in her dream that night. "Harry." She breathed, "What are you doing here?"

"It's a little early for anyone to be getting up on a Saturday, so I figured it was safe enough to come on over." He explained casually.

She had completely forgotten that today was Saturday. "Oh, um, right. Have a seat." She gestured to the place on the stool beside her. He smiled at her in response and gingerly sat down next to her, immediately filling his plate with food. It was obvious he had just gotten here.

When he began to eat he started to speak, "Did you have an empty dormitory last night?"

Hermione nodded, "Yeah, completely deserted."

"Me too, I think it was like that all last night until about nine when I heard people returning from Merlin-knows-where."

Hermione giggled, "I didn't even hear anyone come in . . . I went to sleep almost immediately after you dropped me off."

"You must have got plenty of sleep, then." He said with a smile.

"The most I've gotten since the beginning of the year."

"Well that's good. You deserve it."

Hermione just blushed and continued to eat. Harry and Hermione had been having a very friendly conversation until they were both starting to get uncomfortable when they felt people beginning to stare. "Well I think I'd better leave, then . . . I don't want to gather too much attention and start a riot."

Hermione laughed, but her smile faltered when she saw one red-faced, clearly peeved, red head storming towards the two of them. "Oh Merlin, no." she placed her hand on her forehead and rubbed gently, then choosing to get up and face Ron.

"What is that scum doing over here?" he spat.

"That scum." -She motioned to Harry behind her- "happens to be my friend, so I would just back off, Weasley."

"The hell I will." He pushed Hermione aside and made her clutch the table to balance herself.

"Get the hell away from my girlfriend you piece of shit!"

Hermione pushed herself up and tried to intervene, but it was no use, neither of the boys would let her through. "You are not my boyfriend!"

Ron glared at her, "That may be so, but don't lie, you can't resist the Weasley charm."

Harry snorted, earning Hermione and Ron's attention. "Something funny, Potter?"

"Oh, nothing . . . just the fact that you think bombarding the poor girl with lousy come-on's and out-of-date pick op lines is worthy of being called charm." Harry said with a smirk. Hermione giggled at his clever response as Harry smiled at her.

"You're just jealous because I'm closer to her than you're ever going to be."

"More like vice versa. She can't stand you, told me herself." Harry said confidently.

"Oh yeah? And when did she say that, Potter, in your dreams?" Ron smirked triumphantly.

Harry mirrored his smirk, "Christmas Party, the day before winter holiday."

Hermione inwardly gasped. She couldn't believe he still remembered that. It seemed so long ago . . .

"Boyfriend? Hardly. He's rather annoying, actually . . . will never leave me alone and such."

"Well . . . that . . ." he said, ". . . and the fact that you are completely gorgeous."

She blushed at the memory, but then was brought back to reality when she heard Ron's angry baritone start to shout. "You were at the Gryffindor Party . . . a Slytherin?!"

"I wasn't the only one. You should really tighten up the security at those parties, Weasley, I think old Moldyshorts himself could've gotten in if he were wearing a `Hello, I'm a Vicious Dark Lord and Enjoy Tormenting Little Children' shirt and a kitten mask." Hermione full out laughed at his comment, earning a cold glare from Ron. She shook it off and gave Harry a silent thumbs-up behind Ron's back. This seemed to egg Harry on more, as he spoke again, "Although, I suppose if security let a washed-up dung like yourself to such an extravagant bash . . . I don't see why not."

Ron looked murderous. He looked as though he wanted to punch Harry straight in the face, knocking him out cold, and stick a thousand knives into his body. The only thing that appeared to be stopping him was Hermione behind him, and the Professors who were looking at the exchange with some amount of interest and scornful looks.

"You just wait Potter." Ron said in a harsh whisper. He edged closer to the Slytherin, "You won't lay a hand on Hermione, and you will never make a fool out of me or my house."

Harry just smirked, "Too late." With that said he turned to leave, pausing for a moment and looking at Hermione with a shy grin on his face. "We still on for tonight after dinner?"

Hermione was still dazed from the exchange and the flashback that she had a hard time mumbling a coherent, "Yes." Harry seemed to take the answer as a good enough one to leave the Great Hall abuzz as he walked out of the doorway.

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