A Terrible Temptation

A/N - I have been hiting a wall in the creativity department, but I will be pounding my head into the keyboard today to make sure you ger your next chapters from me, so don\'t fret. :) Thank Kate for the long-distance IV that has gotten me this far. LOL

Thanks also to: Fading Slowly, Campy, Tarrin, Spaz, tifsuz, Gwen, Nocturnus, Laura, scifichick774, Reha, zncientgirl, Adriana, Deb, Droxy, Eboni, Kiri, Kiristeen, Red Writing Hood (giggle, still star struck), CmdrGabeE (Thank you, SIR!)

Deeble - Hermione? Good at Arithmancy? Really? I didn\'t know that!



Chapter 14 – Waking from a Dream

She was flying again, this time alone. She searched the landscape below her, looking for the garden she had seen before. There, off to one side near a small clear lake, was the tangled maze and next to it was the garden. She flew to it and landed, finding herself standing in the center of it, next to a dry fountain choked with weeds.

Moss covered statues encircled the edges of the garden and dry brittle grass crunched under her feet.

“Hermione.” She turned and there was Harry. He was pale and almost transparent, more ghost than anything.

“Harry?” she moved towards him, but he gestured away towards something else. She turned and a small boy ran by her, his black boots and ebony hair flying, his voice raised in childish laughter. She followed after him, curious and confused. The boy paused and turned and his dark eyes met hers for a moment. He smiled, a gap-toothed grin that made warmth trickle into her heart. “Who are you?” She called after the boy, but he turned and began to run again. She chased him, but he vanished.

“Miss Granger.” She spun on her heel and Professor Snape was standing nearby, his face somber and still.

“Professor? Where are we?” She was so confused. He looked at her sadly and then shook his head.

“It doesn’t matter Miss Granger, it’s all dying anyway. There is no one left to tend it.” He glanced around at the garden and then walked away back into the maze of boxwood hedges.

“Wait! Professor!” She took off after him but he was gone again and when she thought to look for Harry, he too had vanished. “I don’t understand!” She wailed.

Hedwig flashed by overhead and settled onto a branch.

“Who.” The owl cooed at her and then lifted away. “Who is who?” She heard on the breeze as it vanished.

Hermione boltbolt upright in bed, sending Crookshanks flying. The cat’s irate hiss brought her fully awake.

“Crook! Where’s Hedwig?” It occurred to her that she hadn’t seen Harry’s familiar since the accident and considering how close Hedwig had always been to Harry, it was horribly alarming.

Crookshanks crawled back onto the bed, marched up to Hermione’s face, put a paw on either of the girl’s shoulders and shifted his weight so that she fell back onto the bed. The half-kneazle then let out an indignant noise and collapsed into a ball, effectively pinning Hermione to the bed.

“I take it that you want me to go back to sleep and stop being silly?” Hermione asked the bossy and overprotective feline. She was answered with a rumbling purr that put her into a drowsy haze. She fell back asleep and quickly forgot the dream.

Ginny Weasley sat in the window of the Astronomy Tower and stared out at the lightening sky. Dressed in a flimsy nightgown and slippers, with her head bare and her bathrobe still hanging from one of the four posts of her bed, Ginny was nearly blue with cold but had no awareness of it.

For as long as she could remember, the name Harry Potter had been synonymous with hero. He had been the handsome prince of her childhood games and then, when Ron had first described his new friend, Harry had become the hero of all her daydreams. When shechedched Hogwarts, he had been all that she had imagined him to be and she had woven the details and habits of his life into her dreams of the future.

Now she was faced with the understanding that she had known nothing about him. She had seen him as a hero, a two-dimensional godling whose perfection was untouchable. Ron and Hermione’s words tonight had brought her up sharp against the walls of her fantasy life.

Ron was right; she had seen it as well, and the way Harry looked at Hermione these days was not the gaze of a childhood friend. He looked at her now as a man did and it sent cold shivers down Ginny’s back. In her blindness, in her lack of understanding, had she fallen in love with a dream and just not seen the real person inside?

It seems that she had and the recognition of that was a painful thing.

“When I was a child I spake as a child.” Ginny murmured, vaguely recalling the words from a lecture on muggle culture her father had dragged them all to years ago. “But when I grew I put aside childish things.” Was that how it went? She couldn’t remember the exact words, but she remembered how angry they had made her.

Now she understood. With adulthood came new understandings, new perspectives, and the things of childhood changed all out of the shapes they had been before. She might still love Harry Potter but she wasn’t sure. After all, who was he really? She knew that she, at least, didn’t know.

She moved to stand and almost fell from her high perch -- her muscles had seized up from being still for so long. Awareness of how cold and cramped she was set off the pins and needles. She winced and began to limp from the tower and back to Gryffindor.

She had a lot to think about.

Hermione trudged down to breakfast with the feeling that she had forgotten something vital. She had checked her book bag and her homework and it was all in order. Ginny was yawning and bleary-eyed at the table when she arrived. Ron was shoveling food into his mouth as though he hadn’t eaten in weeks and Harry was pushing tea and fruit onto Ginny’s plate.

“Fruit and tea will help you to stay alert in class, Ginny.” Harry was fussing over the younger girl and his brisk tone and sensible advice made her pull up short. Harry had been so much himself lately that she had hardly thought about how much of Professor Snape had trickled into him. The paternal concern he was suddenly diyingying was so atypical of Harry that it had to be, as unbelievable as it seemed, from Professor Snape.

“You’re worse than Mum, Harry.” Ginny laughed at him and her sleepy smile seemed somehow more genuine and less desperate than it had before.

“Considering who your mum is, I’ll take that as a compliment.” Harry shot back and that too, she realized, had to be from Snape. The Harry she knew would have been blushing at such a comment, not so quietly confidant.

Perhaps the Legilimency had been far more extensive than they had guessed. Perhaps there had been a real melding of personalities. Or maybe she was just underestimating Harry. After all, she knew Professor Snape; he was a cruel, sadistic, snarky bastard who reveled in abusing the power he had over the students. He was the person who had stared disdainfully at her lengthening teeth and stated that he “saw no difference”.

She settled down beside Harry; he turned those enigmatic eyes on her and once more she felt impaled on his gaze. There was something thrilling in the way he gave his complete attention to her and she shivered.

“Good morning.” It was an ordinary statement, something he had said to her a thousand times, but today it made her wriggle and feel a flood of desire. Harry was in her veins like some drug; every time she got near him he went straight to the pleasure centers in her brain and kicked off reactions that had her panties damp.

“Good morning.” She replied rather softly; it was hard to get air into her lungs when he was this close to her. He started piling food on her plate while complaining that she wasn’t taking care of herself. His arm brushed hers as he put the fried tomatoes on her plate and she felt a frisson of need so strong that she had to clench her hands into fists to keep from reaching for him.

His eyes widened and she knew he felt it too. The sudden awareness of his body’s reaction was like a feedback loop that threatened to push her over the edge of sanity. She wanted to kiss him, to taste his mouth, to run her hands along his body.

“Good morning.” Professor Dumbledore’s voice behind her jerked her back to reality and she saw that he had a hand on Harry’s shoulder and was giving him a look that Hermione couldn’t interpret.

“Good morning, sir.” There was something in Harry’s voice as he replied -- a sound like doors shutting and gates crashing down. Professor Dumbledore nodded at them and moved off, but something had passed between them for Harry was brooding and introspective for the rest of the meal. He moved away quickly when they rose from the table and walked briskly ahead of Ron and herself.

“What’s wrong with Harry?” Ron asked her in confusion, as they nearly had to run to keep up with his quickened pace.

“I don’t know. Professor Dumbledore came by the table and since then he’s been acting very strangely.” Hermione replied.

“He was going to kiss you.” Ginny interjected and Hermione stopped dead in her tracks to look at her.
“Professor Dumbledore stopped him from doing anything about it though.” Ron was looking at his little sister in shock.

“But why would he care if Harry were interested in Hermione?” Ron asked the question that was eating at Hermione as well.

“I don’t think he would, but You-know-who might.” Hermione wanted to kick herself. It was obvious now that Ginny had pointed it out.

“Do you mind, Ginny?” Hermione was worried about her friend.

“Of course I mind, but he doesn’t love me; I‘ve known that for just ages.” Ginny tossed her head, trying to look as though she didn’t care but Hermione knew better. They were the same words that Ron had used last night, what was it about the Weasleys? They set off in a run for classes then and Hermione had no time to think on it after that.

Though evnow now and then Ginny’s words would run through her mind, “He was going to kiss you.” And she wondered what would have happened if Professor Dumbledore hadn’t intervened?