In Dreams

Please be gentle with me, this is my second Fan Fic attempt (my first for HP).
Anyways, please R&R. I'm in college, so I don't have copious amounts of
time, but I will *attempt* to update every 1-2 weeks. Any suggestions
are welcome. Oh, and this was beta-ed by me, so let me know if it
doesn't make sense to anyone else (my mind tends to works in strange
ways). Anyways, on with the show! -sits back with her popcorn-

**Note: This story was started before HBP. Therefore, it is not HBP compliant. I apologize for this.**

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Hermione Granger stared wistfully to the window of the History of Magic classroom. For some reason she simply could not concentrate. Something had been bothering her lately, a constant nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach. But what was it about? Why hadn't she been able to sleep? And why was she having these dreams with nameless shadows when she was finally able to drop off? She had woken up this morning to once again find herself drenched in sweat and shaking uncontrollably. It was just strange... her dreams were usually quite tame, her nightmares often no worse than her receiving a failing exam grade (though to her this was probably as terrifying as any Death Eater).

Squeezing her eyes tight she pressed her hands to her eyes in an attempt to wake herself up. This didn't seem to help though as mere moments later she was again hypnotized by the dark trees of the Forbidden Forest swaying listlessly in the autumn breeze.

"Psst, Hermione."

She snapped back to reality and looked at the bespectacled boy sitting to her right. His emerald eyes were laced with concern. Harry Potter,
the 'Boy Who Lived'. Hermione's friendship with Harry had certainly caused her to realize he was no god, but those eyes always struck
a chord with her... he might just be a boy, but Harry was meant to do great things again one day.

She gave Harry a questioning look in response to his interruption, sincerely hoping that Ron hadn't let loose another ingenious gag produced by the red-headed twins themselves, Weasley Wizards Wheezes. She shook her head remembering the occurrence just last week in Advanced Charms.

Ron Weasley had decided, in a brilliant, boredom inflicted ruse, that it would be 'bloody hilarious' to sneak up to Professor Flitwick's desk and switch his chalk while his back was turned. A few notes on the board with the imposter chalk and a mere moments later, the words "Engorgio Enflamaro" had miraculously changed. Upon hearing the suppressed giggles of his students, poor Flitwick had turned to the board only to be confronted with a few words that instructed the class to engorge a few rather lude body parts. Boys... do they ever grow up?

But she only just remembered that Ron was in the hospital wing.

"What?" She secretly hoped she hadn't accidently dozed off and started snoring or something of the sort. But no, she knew that if she had been sleeping she would have once again been plagued with the horrible spectres who allowed her no rest.

"Are you okay? You're staring into space and you look like you haven't slept in days..." He watched her blush crimson as she looked at her notes in front of her. From what she could tell, it appeared as if she had missed more than twenty minutes of notes. Mentally chiding herself and vowing she would get the notes from a reliable source later, she looked back at Harry.

"Um, I'm fine. Must just need a bit of caffeine..."

She looked over her notes in disdain, she would have to study hard later just to make up what she missed. This was getting ridiculous. Her NEWT exams were approaching quickly, and if she kept this up it was likely she would never digest another piece of information in her life. She desperately needed a full nights rest. Hermione would rather be locked in a small room with one of Hagrid's fully grown Skrewts than receive anything short of an Outstanding on any of her NEWTs.

It wasn't so much the dreams themselves that bothered her, rather it was the manner in which they came to her. She would barely close her eyes before she felt as if she was falling into darkness. Then the vision would unfold in front of her, as if she were watching it all on film. It felt all too real... though she was an outsider looking in, it had none of those qualities which seem to define a dream. No, somewhere deep within her soul she knew this was something of a premonition, though she would never admit it. She just about hated anything to do with Divination, and didn't hold much stock in the reliability of the study.

"Class dismissed!" Professor Binns voice cut Hermione's thoughts short, not surprising as it was enough to make most dogs howl. The ghostly figure retreated through the blackboard as the students packed their things and left the classroom in groups.

"Are you sure you are feeling alright?" Harry's voice once again broke into Hermione's troubled thoughts. He looked around quickly and lowered his voice to a whisper. "Is it those dreams again?"

Hermione had told Harry about the recent unsettling dream sequences. She knew he would understand (which he had) because of all the things he had been through himself. She had not, however, divulged the details of these dreams, only given him a brief synopsis which really wasn't much of what she had seen at all. In reality, she wasn't quite sure she wanted him to know everything... he would probably just make a huge deal out of it and tell her to go see the Headmaster.

At first, Harry had told her it was probably nothing, but now he wasn't so sure. He knew dreams could sometimes tell a person more than they could even imagine, like the one he had experienced in the Divination classroom in his fourth year, just before Voldemort revealed himself. He knew better than to think that this was just a coincidence now. Voldemort was stirring, he was sure of it. His scar pained him almost daily, and he could still feel the jolts of extreme emotion which had begun in fifth year. The attacks of Voldemort and his followers had become more frequent, more daring. Last years attack on Hogsmeade proved that Voldemort was getting closer, and Hogwarts was no longer safe.

However, what worried him most was that if it was Hermione who was having these dreams, then it was probably a sign that something was going to happen that would not only affect him, but put her in danger as well. Harry looked at his friend, taking in her characteristic bushy hair and knowledgeable air. She had matured physically into a well-proportioned woman. Though she wasn't Witch Weekly's Most Beautiful material, she was naturally pretty in her own way.

Harry's worry for his companions had given him more than one sleepless night. Hermione had such a future to look forward to. Besides, Dumbledore really should know what was happening. This finally drove him to suggest what he had not been certain was necessary.

"Maybe you should go talk to Dumbledore," he added seriously, confirming Hermione's previous reflections.

"No, I'll be fine," she lied, continuing on her way to the Gryffindor common room to drop of her books before dinner. Although she sincerely hoped the dreams would just stop, the voice in her head told her otherwise.

"No Hermione, I'm serious." He grabbed her arm, bringing her to an abrupt halt and turning her to face him. He lowered his voice, his eyes boring into her own. "I know what I'm talking about. These dreams you're having... you haven't told me everything, and maybe it's better this way. But I think you might be in danger."

She rolled her eyes as he paused for a moment. Surely he was being entirely too melodramatic, though Harry wasn't often prone to such
menial personality defaults. No, this sort of thing was more of Ron's department. And speaking of which...

"Hey Harry. Hey Hermione." Ron sauntered up with a giant grin plastered on his freckled face. The redhead was still lanky and rather goofy, but Hermione loved him for that.

"You're better now I see. I suppose conveniently after History of Magic?" Hermione gave Ron one of those no nonsense looks that clearly said he should be taking his work more seriously.

Ron did his best to look hurt. "Hermione! How could you say such a thing? You know how much I love that class! My wrist was broken, it was pain unimaginable! But I am better now, see?" He brandished the healed wrist with flourish and gave Harry a mischievious wink.

"Hmm... funny." Hermione fixed Ron with a half exasperated, half amused look.

"What's funny?" Part of his smile had faded, it was obvious that he knew what was coming before she even said it.

"Well..." She let the word hang in the air a moment before continuing. "It's funny that you are better now, especially since you have Quidditch tonight... the very thing that caused that broken wrist in the first place!"

Ron's face turned pink, though he did his best to hide it. He shifted uneasily, feeling as if he was being interrogated.

"As long as you promise not to purposefully break your wrist again to get out of classes, I'll leave you alone."

Ron feigned a look of shock and disbelief. "Why would I do something like that?"

"Oh just forget it." She sighed inwardly, not seeing the triumphant grin he gave as she turned away. Boys are just so stupid sometimes. Turning to Harry she finally decided to give in to his suggestion, if only to escape Ron's constant replay of yesterday's practice which ended in a spectacular fall and resulting broken wrist. He had been willing to give a blow-by-blow to anyone who asked, and she knew it would begin again at any moment.

"I'm going to see the Headmaster after dinner," she resigned.

Harry smiled at her, glad she was such a sensible girl. Ron was lost in the conversation, but didn't bother to find out what was going on. School work or classes most likely. Probably Hermione trying to cram more classes in her already overloaded schedule.

"Well let's go eat, I'm starving."

***

She could avoid it no longer. Harry had been shooting meaningful looks in her direction for the past half hour since they had returned from dinner. He had been sure that she would head straight to the Headmaster's office (he had left the Hall before they had), but was surprised when Hermione had joined them on their path back to the common room. She had been ignoring Harry's looks pointedly for the first fifteen minutes (rather unsuccessfully) by burying her nose in one of her many books, but it was Ron's constant drone of Quidditch talk that finally drove her over the edge.

"Alright, alright! I'm going!" She threw her hands in the air in apparent exhasperation and tossed the book aside. She turned to give Harry a defeated glare before continuing. "I'll be back in a bit."

Making her way to the portrait, she pushed roughly and stormed out.

"What was that about?" Ron asked nonplussed.

"Nothing..." Harry replied, a self satisfied look on his face.

"Okay then. Well, anyways, as I was saying. It would be so easy! All you have to do at the next match is pull a Wronski Feint on Malfoy..."

***

Hermione stood outside the Headmaster's office glaring at the gargoyles which refused to allow her entry to the revolving staircase beyond.

"But I need to talk to the Headmaster!" She pleaded. She had half a mind to just give up and return to Gryffindor tower.

"No can do miss," replied the one on the left, grinning malevolently at her frustration. "If it's about that hair of yours, I'm not quite certain that the Headmaster will be able to help you. How did you manage that anyways? You haven't been messing with any shock spells lately, have you?"

"Arg!" Hermione turned on her heel and prepared to storm her way back upstairs.

"Miss Granger?"

She turned around to meet the twinkling blue eyes of Albus Dumbledore. He seemed quite amused by something, and she couldn't help wondering if it perhaps had something to do with the joke the gargoyle had just made.

"Erm, hello Headmaster." She shifted her weight uneasily wondering how she should begin. "There was something I, er, wanted to talk to you about." She couldn't help wondering if it was this hard for Harry every time he had to tell Dumbledore about a dream he had. She felt slightly ridiculous, he probably had better things to worry about than the dreams of a paranoid witch.

"Alright then, won't you come into my office?" He beckoned her to follow him. As she was lifted slowly by the revolving staircase she tried to think of just how she was going to go about this. She didn't want to needlessly alarm the Headmaster, but she somehow felt that one way or another he would become concerned at these recent findings.

When she stepped across the threshold of his office, she couldn't help staring in awe as she was wont to do whenever here. His gadgets and whirring objects were fascinating to her, and every time she visited there was always something new to be investigated. She caught a brief glimpse of the Sorting Hat and smiled as she remembered her own sorting. It seemed like ages ago.

"Have a seat Miss Granger. Lemon drop?"

"Oh, um, no thanks Professor." She sat in the comfortable armchair across from Albus' desk and stared pointedly at everything but the
Headmaster's penetrating gaze. She couldn't help thinking to herself that she would never be able to understand his fixation on the muggle candy he seemed to be eating constantly.

"Well, what is it you wanted to talk about?" he asked curiously. He folded his hands on the desk in front of him and succeeded in finally capturing her eyes.

"It's these dreams I've been having. But they don't seem like dreams, more like visions." She watched as he nodded silently waiting for her to proceed. "I told Harry about them, and he said it sounded a lot like the dreams he had during fifth year when... when Voldemort was linked to his mind." She shuddered noticeably. It was only now that the thought occurred to her that this could possibly be linked to the Dark Lord's recent raids.

"Indeed, that is not a comforting thought." He let his gaze wander to the window where the stars of the night sky twinkled innocently. "And you say that these dreams have come to you more than once?"

"Yes sir, and they aren't always the same. I mean, at first I kept having the same dream, but the figures in it were really unclear... fuzzy in a way. But now..." she paused uncertainly. Having to recall these nightly hauntings was causing a knot of fear in her abdomen. The problem was, by the time she woke up she could never remember why it was exactly that she felt such an extreme bought of horror and fear.

"Yes, Miss Granger?" She was jerked from her reflections by Albus' soothing voice.

"But now... now the figures are getting clearer. They are people, but they seemed almost wreathed in shadow, all black. And I can't see their faces." She stopped, unwilling to continue. There was more to it than this, but she felt somehow she wanted to figure out what exactly was going on before she divulged any more.

"Hmm..." Albus sat wrapped in thought, his mind turning over the girl's confession. He was glad she had confided in him sooner rather than later, but at the moment he failed to see what exactly these dreams were about. "Well, I cannot think of anything that might cause you to be too alarmed of these dreams, though I might suggest that you perhaps speak to Professor Snape about some Occlumency lessons... just to be safe. As you said, we don't want a repeat occurrence like Harry's."

"Oh, um... I guess I could try that." She felt immensely disappointed. If anything, this visit had only made her more confused and worried. Her mind felt muddled by millions of thoughts which struggled ruthlessly to make their way to the front of her mind. All this managed to do was give her a splitting headache. "Thank you for your help Professor."

"No need for thanks. Oh, and Miss Granger?" Albus' voice caught her as she reached the door.

"Yes Professor?"

Albus looked troubled for a moment before he seemed to come to some sort of resolve. Voldemort had no reason to use her. He wanted Harry, not this young girl. No, it had to be just coincidence.

"Sleep well, and don't forget what I said about Professor Snape."

As Hermione left the room she couldn't help thinking to herself that it would have to be a cold day in hell before she ever asked for help from Severus Snape.