He Walks in Dreams

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the other original characters and or places in the Potterverse, which was created by the wonderful JK Rowling. I believe that they are owned by Warner Brothers. However, the plot, new characters and or places are mine, mine, mine! And are subject to copyright by ME!


Chapter 4- News and a Notion


It had been just over a month since the beginning of the term and Hermione was reaching her wits end waiting to hear from Ron and Harry. The hours that she spent on schoolwork did precious little to distract her from her ever-darkening thoughts, they were trapped and being tortured or worse. She shuddered involuntarily, how could she have let Ron talk her into staying behind? How many times had she been the one to save all their skins, stepping in with her quick wit and armed with just the right spell? It hardly seemed possible that they’d survive without her.


Even when she’d been petrified by the Basilisk in her second year it was she who’d found the answer to the puzzle! It was only when they’d found the paper in her hand that they finally learned the true nature of the monster hidden in the Chamber of Secrets! Harry had come a long way since those early days, but Ron? Well, Ron was just as impulsive and immature as he’d been in second year, not to mention the clumsy streak he’d had going when there was an important task set to him. If nerves before a quidditch match could send him off his game…it simply didn’t bear thinking about. She’d never forgive herself if something happened to Ron.


It wouldn’t have taken much to convince him that she was by far the better candidate for what the three of them had planned all those months ago and if he wouldn’t listen to reason then would not have been too difficult to incapacitate him until she and Harry were long gone.


Hermione hung her head, which had begun to ache while her thoughts spiraled out of control. The pain in her head was nothing compared to the constant churning and stabbing she felt in her gut; she’d hardly eaten enough for someone half her age and it was beginning to show. Her cheeks had sunken-in, her once ivory skin had turned ashen and the circles under her eyes were so dark that someone who didn’t know better might have suspected that she’d been beaten.


Mealtimes were more a formality to be endured than anything else in the last few weeks, as her duties as head-girl did not allow her the freedom to skip them as most other students did. It was however at lunch on the fifth week of the term that Hermione received news of Ron and Harry. The Weasley family owl, Errol, flew into the great Hall just as Hermione sat down next to an equally disheveled and disturbed looking Ginny. The aged creature flopped, for landed didn’t really explain the motion of the owl, onto the table in front of the two of them spilling pumpkin juice down the front of Ginny’s robes.


Ginny cursed and Errol shied away from her and hopped over to Hermione and gave her an affectionate little nip with his beak before swiveling his head around more than one-hundred-and-eighty degrees, as only an owl could. As Hermione reached for the letter tied to his leg he steadied and allowed her to remove the burden. Ginny recovered from her shock and fed him a few crisps from the bowl in front of her and scratched his feathered head tenderly while she looked in askance at Hermione.


Ginny was frustrated by the impassive mask on Hermione’s face as she read the letter silently, finally she could take no more and demanded that her friend fill her in. Hermione handed the letter over to the redhead without comment; her face held no clue as to the nature of the news. The letter wanted desperately to curl back up the way it had come, but Ginny solved that problem by placing her empty goblet at the top and holding the bottom with her elbow. She read:


Dear Ginny and Hermione,
Bill and Mr. Weasley made contact with the boys two nights ago. I could not pry the details out of either of them, but you should know that there was an incident that resulted in the serious injury of one of them. There is a bit of good news as well, I have been assured by Mr. Weasley that the wounds were treated by a very high-ranking Mediwizard and that there will be no long term effects, and he is expected to make a full recovery. I regret that I can tell you no more at this time, as the post is no longer secure.

They asked to have a message passed to the two of you: “We’re sorry that there was no way to contact you, but don’t fear we know what we’re doing. We will be in touch soon. Oh, and don’t leave the grounds!”

All My Love,
Mrs. Weasley


Ginny sighed and understood Hermione’s non-reaction to the tiny morsel of news. She touched Hermione’s arm and said, “They’re all right. They are going to be fine! You know better than anyone that those two have a talent for getting out of tight spots.”


“Yeah, they do don’t they? The part about staying in bounds is just funny coming from those two.” Hermione didn’t feel nearly as confidant as she sounded. The thoughts from earlier that day crept back into her mind insidiously, ‘Yeah they sure do get out of tight spots, usually when I save their sorry asses.’


Even though the letter confirmed one of Hermione’s greatest fears she’d managed to regain at least some semblance of an appetite, she piled her plate high with all manner of delicious foodstuffs and tucked into it with fervor. She noticed that the letter had the same effect on Ginny; even that meager amount of news had worked like a tonic to restore their hunger and zest for life. By the end of the meal Hermione had begun to regain some of the rosy color in her cheeks and her skin on longer resembled that of the walking dead.


Hermione’s schedule gave her some perks that were only afforded to the Head-boy and girl; one of those was a free period a day with which she was allowed to do as she pleased. She surmised that most of the past students to hold her position spent their free time studying, but she had something totally different in mind.


She smiled at Ginny, her first smile in so long that the expression felt distinctly odd to her, as she pushed herself up from the table at the end of the meal and made her way to the doors to supervise the departure of the students from lunch. When the vast majority of them had gone off to their next class she made her way up the main staircase and through the empty and chill corridors to the library. Here she paused and took her wand and a blank piece of parchment from inside her robes; after a quick peek to ensure that she was quite alone she muttered something under her breath and immaculate tiny handwriting appeared on the page. She placed the wand back up her sleeve before pushing the great heavy door open just far enough to admit her slight form, once inside she closed it quietly.


Hermione was halfway to the restricted section when Madam Pince caught her out of the corner of her all-seeing eye and said, “Where do you think you’re going in such a hurry? Hasty children always make a mess for me to cl…Oh, Miss Granger, its only you.”


“Hello Madam Pince,” Hermione said as casually as she could, meeting the librarian’s eyes as she always did.


“The Restricted Section is it? Let’s have your note then,” she extended a bony hand to take the parchment from Hermione’s hand.


‘Well, if there is going to be a problem now is when it’ll happen,’ Hermione thought as the librarian looked at the note. Before Hermione had time for any more thoughts she received a nod from Madam Pince and was back en route to the Restricted Section. Hermione knew what the power of a good name with the librarian could do for her; it had eliminated the suspicious nature of Madam Pince’s character, as she’d taken only a cursory glance at the note Hermione had presented rather than the harsh scrutiny that usually accompanied any student request to enter the Restricted Section.


It took Hermione several trips to find the particular piece of magical literature that she required to solve her communication problem with Ron and Harry. She copied the potion with great care, which was no easy task considering that the book was much stained and tattered, the binding had come lose and stray pages stuck out at odd angles. She checked her copy job thrice, just in case she’d made some tiny mistake.


On the third pass she thought that something was off and took a closer look at the book. Sure enough she’d not copied correctly; a small dried bit of what she could only assume was an ingredient in one of the former user’s potions was stuck to the page and completely obscured the Bladderwrack had to be powdered, not whole. She shook her head and thanked Merlin for her through nature and tried not to think of what would happen if she’d put it in whole.


She closed the book and replaced it neatly. Before leaving the library she stopped to tell Madam Pince that she no longer needed access to the Restricted Section. “Thank you Miss Granger, most students would want to extend their time there and would likely find more trouble than they could handle.”


“Too true, Mam’,” she said pleasantly hoping that she’d not bitten off more than she could chew. She smiled and let none of her doubts reach the surface of her mind or her face, the librarian had a preternatural ability to sense mischief.


Hermione was pleased that the next weekend was the first trip of the year into Hogsmeade, though it would be much more heavily supervised than it had been in the past she could still slip off to the Apothecary to get the ingredients she did not have at present. They were not extremely strange things for a seventh year student to be buying, especially if that student was also the Head-girl.