The Dreamer

Disclaimer:

Firstly, so we get this completely right, I do not own Harry Potter, and all the "magic" contained within it.

Secondly, I changed the name from Holiday Dreamer to The Dreamer and decided to let this fic take on a life of it's own, so it's going to be a little different than the challenge prompt that kind of inspired it (well, at this point it is). I deviate - literally, honestly, sadly - but nothing of the story I've started has changed.

A/N 7-8-09: I'm not abandoning the story, but I'm editing before I post new chapters to make sure it all flows.


Temper Tantrums

---

“So do you plan to marry after graduation?” Ginny asked innocently enough.

Too innocent, Hermione decided after a quick glance at the youngest Weasely.

“No immediate plans.” Hermione allowed, sweeping her lit wand tip into another empty classroom.

“Ah,” Ginny mused, following her friend’s lead. “Well, do you mind if I tell you something?”

Shutting the door quietly, Hermione turned to Ginny unsure if she wanted to know of whatever scheme it was that Ginny might be brewing. The red head’s expression was far too apprehensive to be innocent.

“Well, as long as it isn’t a matter of breaking rules, go on.” Hermione whispered. Moving onto the next classroom, the two walked in uncomfortable silence as Ginny fidgeted with her wand some more.

“Oh, no!” Ginny exclaimed suddenly, “It’s nothing like that at all. It’s, um, how can I...oh, I'll just say it! Harry’s asked me to marry and I’ve said YES!"

Shock and comprehension quickly overtook Hermione before she was able to exclaim, “Ginny, that’s – well, it’s – congratulations!”

Hermione rushed her friend, hugging a surprised Ginny close. A rushed whisper followed, “Does anyone else know, maybe Ron, your parents, and is it set for after graduation?”

“No, no, no, and yes,” Came Ginny's strained laugh. She broke from the embrace first. “You jabbed me with your wand you know?”

“Oh, sorry.” Hermione smiled sheepishly, quickly recovering from the one of the oldest known wand faux pauxs. “When do you plan on making the announcement?”

Harry hadn’t mentioned or hinted that he intended to ask Ginny to marry him. Not that he had to run all his romantic plans through her, but Hermione had to admit she was surprised she didn’t even merit a brief consultation from the female perspective. Harry did this all on his own, but wasn't that how it should be anyways? He didn't always need to tell them about his major life decisions first, from now on, Ginny would even superseded Ron. She was Harry's number one girl and now Ginny would be his number one everything.

“Err, well, about that –” Was all Ginny could seem to say before blushing and fidgeting with her wand again.

Hermione’s eyes searched her friend’s face for any hint of what was to come next, but red wasn't talking.

“Would you like me to keep the secret for now?”

Ginny chuckled nervously. “Yes, please. Harry would rant if he found out I said anything too prematurely, but I had to tell someone. It’s been hard not just shouting it in the middle of dinner.”

There, that was more like the Ginny Weasely she knew and loved. How that girl did burn for her passions.

“She's practically glowing with joy,” thought Hermione longingly.

Happiness, Hermione felt it from time to time, what with new Wizarding world and all, but real happiness, now that was a novel concept. Hermione focused on Ginny's eyes, eyes that now seemed to sparkle with promise. And love, there was that word too consider too.

“Then what’s stopping you besides, Harry, obviously?” Hermione noted, thinking him a typical boy with no sense of occasion.

“Well, to be quite honest,” Ginny mumbled, hesitant as she stood there looking at Hermione suddenly unsure.

“Yes?!” Came the prompting demand when Ginny took to long to respond. "This is exciting, Weasley, you have to catch me up here."

Hermione was on edge; her friends were about to do something huge and sure to be highly covered in Wizarding Britain if not around the world.

“It’s just that we feel it’s too soon." Ginny started in a whisper before finding her voice again, "And it’s just not Harry, I feel so too. I think we need time to be ourselves before completing the check-list of things grown-ups do.”

Ginny smiled at Hermione, her confidence returning as she hooked her arm through Hermione’s and set them back to the task of rounds, seemingly more relaxed now that the cat was out of the bag.

“That is smart.” Hermione conceded, nodding her head as she said so.

They'd all need time to brace themselves for the media onslaught come "The Wedding of the Century", or as Hermione now called it in her head. Ginny led them on.

“But, I can’t help wondering why you felt the need to say it to me, why not Ron?”

“Oh, not him! There are certain people he can't keep a secret from.” Ginny moaned. “If I had wanted it leaked to the Prophet like that I would have told Luna and then she could announce it at the next Gryffindor match in the dreamy off-handed way of hers.”

Hermione scoffed before casting a doubtful look at the other girl. “I doubt Luna would absentmindedly broadcast your news.”

Looking at Hermione, Ginny stated adamantly, “Surely the moment Ron defended a goal or dove to protect someone, she’d launch into ‘Isn't it wonderful, to have a good leader in such young Wizards these days? And further more, his sister Ginny Weasely is completing the perfect family by marrying his best friend, Harry Potter. And isn’t that so wonderful everyone? They’re best friends and now they’ll be family, it's simply the best.”

Ginny rolled her eyes at Hermione’s unimpressed look. She leaned in, catching Hermione’s attention, “No, I'm not exaggerating.”

Her voice taking on a dreamy quality, Ginny continued, “It’s like that fairy tale about Selkies, you know the one where the Seal Maiden meets her true love and then he becomes her protector? Oh, and the win goes to Gryffindor thanks to Harry Potter for catching the snitch. My, that seems a fast game! What’s that Headmistress McGonagall? It was just a flash of light? Still, even if the game is on, Ginny Weasely must be so proud of her boys tonight!"

"You get the word picture.” Ginny droned at the finish.

Hermione couldn’t help but to chuckle a little. “Fine then, it’s agreed. Rest assured with me, your secret is very safe. But that said, Luna is a good friend and much better at keeping secrets than your brother. I agree, there are some people he will never be able to keep a secret from.”

It was only a shame Hermione couldn’t confess her own little secret, but somehow she was sure the news she had to share would not fall well on Ginny’s ears. And honestly, the news would never fall on anyone's ears, because there wasn't a soul out there that would understand, Hermione was sure of it.

“So,” Ginny began suddenly, “do you think you’ll be following a similar path after graduation?”

“I don’t know, really.” sighed Hermione.

Hermione had realized that she wasn’t ready to commit at all and found the whole notion of doing so anytime soon to be a ridiculous endeavor in her opinion.

“What do you mean? That is..” Ginny quickly corrected her tone of surprise, “Ron never even talks of the future?”

“Ron does very little talking about those things, I mean, you live with him too, so you know what he talks about." Hermione snorted, "And I don't think about that kind of future much either. I think I need time to sort the past out."

A pregnant pause settled between the witches. Wand light flitted across the dark, gleaming off old suits of armor and catching the odd gilded portrait frame here and there.

“Turn off the light,”a peevish hiss came from the portrait of a rather severe looking old witch.

Ignoring the enchanted paint, the two walked past and found another room to check. Each of them tried to keep an air of comfortableness in the long span of silence that followed.

“Well, is it still on?” Ginny asked finally, clearing her throat, “I don’t mean to pry, but I’m just curious is all.”

Hermione took a deep breath and gave it some thought. “Something is off between us, but I tend to think it has more to do with moving on with our lives than a loss of affection. Childhood is over now. He's not a boy and I'm not a girl. With everything we've been through, I think the only reason I returned was for the official piece of paper saying I'm 'Hogwarts Certified'. Sometimes I don't know why Ron returned, he hates this stuff. He could be with George right now, or any number of places.”

“He’s not all, well you know, Hermione,” Ginny defended lightly, “He just has a funny way of showing he cares sometimes. Guys are like that, different kind of brains in them, really.”

Hermione sighed, "I know, believe me I know. And I never asked him to come back, I would prefer he find something that makes him happy. And I’m not ready for that kind of talk either. So as far as I can see, it’s all as it should be.”

At Ginny’s slightly concerned look she added, “We all need time to readjust is the way I think of it. But that said, I’m really happy for you and Harry. Congratulations, and I promise you I think it's the most wonderful news I've heard yet.”

Surely that should be enough to disengage Ginny’s interest in Hermione's failing romantic attachment to Ginny's most moody brother yet.

Hermione couldn’t say what really troubled her, but she was not completely unhappy with her situation either, save the reoccurring dreams.

“So what troubles you then?” Ginny whispered as they resumed the rounds. Opening another door, they happily found yet another deserted classroom. It was shaping up to be an easy night.

“Just life in general.” Hermione murmured as Ginny closed the door and guided them on.

“But the war is over, moving on is the name of the game.” Ginny complained nasally, “We can’t dwell in the past. And clearly, something is haunting you."

Dwelling in the past? That’s hardly how Hermione would have put it and yet a past association haunted her still.

“So very true,” came her dry answer, “which is why I need to think carefully about the future, I’m sorry I can’t be more plain than that.”

“I’m sorry," Ginny amended quickly, "I didn’t mean to push, I’m just so wrapped up in my own news, I didn’t realize. We all need time, I get that. It's a lot to get past.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Hermione smiled, taking her friend's apology in stride.

Looping her arm back through Ginny’s, her smile widen.

“You have every right to be happy and wish it for those you love. And I really don’t take offense; it’s not like your mum. Now I’d really hate to be having this conversation with her. So pushy.”

Ginny smiled knowingly, and they resumed walking to the end of the corridor. “No offense taken either, I wouldn’t want to talk to her yet, much less ask for advice. If you want to know where my brother gets his brash decision making look no further than our mother. Her saving grace is she that learns from experience unlike Ron sometimes.”

Hermione laughed quietly as she remembered the damning looks she received from Molly Weasely in Fourth Year.

“I’m glad, you know that?” Ginny sighed contented while patting Hermione's arm comfortingly.

“Are you now?” Hermione chuckled. It was her turn to play with her wand. How she wished she could share Ginny’s confidence.

“Well, yes! Hogwarts is back, rebuilt, and the future awaits! And we complete our final year together." Turning to Hermione, Ginny she quietly cleared her throat.

"Don't get me wrong, it's been tragic - utterly, senselessly, barbarically tragic. But," she went on, her genuine cheer returning slowly, "The happiness we feel now is real, and nothing is going to take it away. No ruinous surprises of dastardly deeds afoot; this is about completing what we started. We get to have this experience just like any young Wizard or Witch should be able to, the future is ours, Hermione!"

Hermione nodded with a gentle smile, they should have let Ginny open the new year with a peppy speech.


However, Hermione didn't know how to respond. Ginny nearly skipped along their rounds, her good mood nearly infectious.

When lightly tugging at Hermione didn't work, Ginny broke away to spin and laugh out in front of her brooding friend before clapping her hands together suddenly.

“Despite it all, we’re finally going to have a wonderful year ahead of us. We’ll be free to grow up at the end, but not before we’ve all said a proper good-bye. It’s the best of endings for this old place. We've earned it, for once it all gets to end happily!”

It was October Hermione observed. Her eyes narrowed on Ginny's, “And you’ve been in Trelawney’s class how long?”

“Oh, you.” Ginny chided playfully, gliding back up to her friend and tossing her hand around flippantly. “That one hardly can go on about bad omens now that the world is saved. And honestly, she hardly strikes me as the type to want gloom and doom all the time. If you ask me, we all are going to need to learn to lighten up a little. That arse-faced bastard is dead, surely that's got to be ten years good luck.”

“That’s not quite what she was going on about today with the reading of divination runes.” Hermione snorted in disgust as they made their way down another staircase. “Though Harry says its only when her voice goes all creepy and raspy that you should actually start to worry.”

“Yes,” said Ginny with a smug chuckle. “She’s yet to do that, at least in class anyway."

“Let’s hope that nothing compels her to have another vision.” groaned Hermione, it was an extreme annoyance to be forced into taking the class to meet the graduation requirements, “Given that personality, I think any bad news that wants to be foretold is sure to come through her.”

“You know, I heard Luna has been showing signs of third sight.” Ginny said, poking Hermione in the side. Doing such had earned Ginny a peevish look from the brunette.

“And apparently so has Lavender and Parvati for quite some time now,” Hermione reflected dryly, looking down a hall that had a dead end, she sighed and caught Ginny's gaze, “I’ve yet to hear of a verifiable vision they’ve seen between the two of them. Not that it's amazing, but what strikes me as odd is that they haven't even accidentally stumbled onto one correct prediction in all these years.”

Hermione turned back to the other end of the hall. Looking for something in the shadows, Ginny caught Hermione off her guard.

“Don’t seem so unimpressed. You know it could happen.” Ginny rebounded, swirling Hermione to face her.

Ginny was manhandling her, and Hermione was losing her patience with her friend.

“I understand it’s not one of the precise sciences of Magic, but it has a place too." Ginny whispered meaningfully, "Never deny it, because you never know when it will strike Hermione Granger, and when it does you better be able to believe in it. It could mean the difference in saving your life or someone else’s. Or more even!”

Hermione swallowed weakly, "More?"

With pursed lips, Ginny nodded sagely before taking to the staircase they'd arrived at. Bounding up two steps at a time, the younger Witch was nearly to the top before Hermione even started the climb.

Hermione's face was blank with shock as she looked down at the steps that led to Gryffindor tower. Could Ginny tell she was having strange dreams? She knew avoiding the inevitable only slowed its appearance, but someday it would come out. Only Hermione preferred it come out much later after the dreams had ceased.

But there was no addressing these dreams in waking life. Hermione would entertain no plan of action which required her to approach and interact the subject of her unconscious. Rather, Hermione judged that using Magic to contain them would be the best treatment for the symptom, and given time, distance would be the best remedy to cure it.

“Well, I’m off.” Said Ginny as the made their way back to the dorms. Each satisfied that the night had been easy.

“Good night,” Hermione waved, not following Ginny past the Fat Lady's portrait.

At Ginny’s questioning look, Hermione added, “I can’t find my badge. I think I dropped it by the Library so I’m going back to get it before it becomes a matter of theft.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t see it fall,” Ginny pouted sympathetically, “would you like me to come with you?”

“No, it’ll be fine. It was a quiet night anyhow. This is our last night this week and then the Ravenclaws have a go at it.”

“Well, all right then,” said Ginny hesitantly, “I can wait up for you if you like.”

“No, go to bed.” Hermione smiled as she turned to leave, waving to Ginny who was behind her, Hermione added, “I’ll see you at breakfast. Save me some biscuits if you can manage to keep a few from the bottomless pit that is your brother. I’ll be down late again.”

“Will do!” Ginny called back. “And not to jinx the night, but be careful. If you remember we haven’t even seen Peeves, and that can only mean he’s lurking around somewhere!”

“I’ll keep on my guard, good-night!”

Not that Hermione minded her friend’s company, but she wanted to pace a bit before turning in. She needed to rework her potion to block her dreams. Batch seventeen had been a bust. Looking down at the badge in her pocket, pressed the edge closed and hugged the robes tightly to her. She wandered the halls.

As she walked along she reviewed the past few months’ events. She hadn’t made Head Girl, but that had made sense considering she’d been forced to skip all of what would have been her original Seventh Year in favor of saving the world with Harry and Ron. And while all would agree it was a worthy cause, even Hermione acknowledged that Head Girl should be reserved for someone who’d stayed and fought the year out with people like the Carrows.

Still, Prefect was reasonable enough. And since she was honest, Hermione also could admit to herself that Head Girl was more responsibility than she would have liked. She just wanted to study and round out her skill set. But she couldn’t refuse the Prefect position either, and rather than feel put out for the inconvenience, she’d accepted it willingly enough. This in return gave her more sympathy and understanding for Harry. Some responsibilities were hard to turn down because someone needed to be trusted to do them.

When she completed this final year at Hogwarts there would be no one to stop her from fully integrating into Wizarding society.

Stretching as she walked along the corridor that led back to Gryffindor tower, she yawned. She had been up and down multiple corridors, in and out of classrooms, and up and down towers, an odd staircase that either went below or above ground; it had been quite the late night exercise. Hermione had to give Headmistress McGonagall credit for the rebuilding of the school and the lengths to which all were expected to honor and protect it.

Hermione supposed she had been far too sedentary over the summer holidays anyhow, but of course it could not be helped. There had been much reading to catch up on. The misadventures she endured in school years past had distracted her. What she'd lost was time, time that could have been spent researching her own interests. But, these things were history.

And the magic in this place only grew stronger at the start of each holiday; she could feel it in her bones and as the weather grew colder outside. The ambient cheer and festive quality of the seasons changing added to the atmosphere of peace and good will being experienced by all who walked these hallowed halls.

The biggest celebration was only another two months away. And she'd heard a rumor floating around about the potential prospect of another Yule Ball, only more magnificent than any other in Hogwarts's history.

Hermione signed and continued the march back to her dorms, still thankful that she’d caught no one breaking curfew. Paper work and punishments were not something she wished to deal with tonight. Rather, she was content to collapse into her bed, and hope that she did not have that particular dream again.

This could easily be another of many nights since Seventh Year started that the phenomenon would strike, it even hit her if she managed the rare midday nap between classes. Though in those less frequent occurrences Hermione was glad she did not wake up to sleep talking. Small mercy really, considering Hermione had often caught herself screaming into her pillow some mornings.

She wondered if having lost count of the many times she had the dreams should be cause for concern or investigation. It couldn’t be that normal to experience these ridiculously odd situations. Only two months into the new school year and already something new and strange was happening to her.

If she were as dense as Lavender Brown, Hermione Granger might not have found the metaphor so disturbing, but being known as clever had a way of undermining her denial that something was off. In the morning she resolved to find a better sleeping potion to help counteract the disturbing new dreams, but for now she would drink the last of what potion was left and hope that the remaining dose did something for her. If not, there was the standard silencing spell to keep her secret hidden from her dorm mates.

---

The next morning, which had been quite uneventful, between Potions and Arthimancy, Hermione resolved to make her Seventh Year Potions project the perfect Dreamless Sleeping Draught. It would net her extra galleons and references once she proved her considerable talents in not only her careful methodology, but the quality of her research as well.

And of course as soon as the word got out there would be no shortage of people in the aftermath of the Great War who wouldn’t pay for a perfectly effective draught that left it’s subjects well-rested and free of the disturbing memories that had left some of the Great War survivors haunted.

All her plans shifted suddenly when her mind was pulled from focusing on dosage calculations in the exact moment she pulled opened the door to the Potions Supply room and caught the sight before her.

“Oh, it’s you.” He said tonelessly with his back still to her, the many potion ingredients lining the shelves cast eerie shadows under the candles that floated just above him. “Back again, are you?”

“I don’t know what you mean, Malfoy!” Hermione said with more annoyance than she meant to let out. Blast him; he had a way of grating her nerves, and it hadn’t even been five minutes. She resolved to speak more kindly. Shortly it would aggravate her again to see the attempt fail.

“Sure you don’t.” He mused without facing her, “It’s always an accident, isn’t it?”

“As you know,” she said with a certain kind of well-mannered authority, “the potions cabinet is open to all Seventh Years working on their final projects. You can't be the gate keeper here.”

“Is it so hard to be civil when it comes me?” Draco said sharply. His tone was a stark contrast from his previously dull observation, although he did not turn to face her yet, “Does it bother you that I’m still here and not in Azkaban? It’s ok, Granger, you can admit it. You wish the Dementor’s Kiss on me, yes, I know all about it.” He said looking up from his notes now.

“I – that's not true -” Hermione stuttered at a loss for words.

She didn't understand how he could think that, it wasn't as if she didn't know some of his Seventh Year history, or the whole story behind Sixth Year's final events.

He said nothing more as he stood there facing her in silence now. When she caught his glare her mouth closed resolutely. He looked far too annoyed to be enjoying their exchange.

That was random, she’s expected him to stomp off with a snide retort, but the all too direct Malfoy before her proved to be unpredictable as ever. She could never be sure if he was a dangerous menace or if he was mostly harmless. Complicating matters further was the small but relevant detail that this was the most they’d talked all year.

“And they said you were thinking about applying to that Oxford Muggle’s school, it makes more sense now doesn't?” He sneered, his tone piercing. “The likes of you, thinking you know everything there is to know, and then when the unexpected happens what do you do, you just keep sticking it out, don't you? It’s only a shame you couldn’t have been raised like a true full-blooded Witch, you'd recognize so much more if only you had been. But I suppose on your intellect alone you’re still here too, so there is that small consolation.”

He surprised her and that was unnatural because the Malfoy she was familiar with was far from disguising any compliment, and that was because he simply never gave them, at least not to her anyhow. That had been more compliment than insult, hadn't it?

Under her sharp observation his expression seemed far too calculating. What was he playing at, she could only guess.

“I don’t think there’s any reason for you to be here unless you’re working on your own project.” Hermione ground out after she recovered from the flustered verbal lapse.

“As you will recall you were the one interrupting me,” clipped Draco, walking towards her only to stop at the door. “And while I could share the space with you, you’re much too annoying to even consider the idea of silence, so I think you’ll need to wait outside. Good-bye now, Granger.”

“And how long have you been in there?” Hermione rebounded as Draco turned away to retreat back into the Potions Supply room.

“Two hours.” Draco sniffed over his shoulder. He went to shut the door behind him as an extra measure. “Wait your turn, it’s how it’s done in polite society.”

“That seems long enough,” Hermione commanded as she caught the door handle before the lock could engage. “There are time limits to consider. And you can't stop me from practicing magic anymore! I'm not going away.”

"Who said I was here to do that?" He scoffed, "Just leave me alone, you'll get your turn when I'm gone."

"Your turn ends now." She growled back. The fine hairs on her neck now stood in anger and a flush burned across her face.

“Over my dead body!” He snapped. “Which would be in your dreams, of course.”

“You say that a lot these days,” observed Hermione, entranced with some vague detail that seemed to elude her.

What was it about what he had said that caught her in a moment of déjà vu?

“Do I? Well, too bad for you I mean it.”

A blush rose to his cheeks as she studied him more. He seemed to be uncomfortable under her gaze.

“Why are you being so hateful, we can share the space and complete our work,” Hermione snapped, still refusing to unhand the knob. “There’s no point in making ridiculous threats.”

“You really think I’m being ridiculous do you?” He demanded as his grip tightened on his side of the door, his face inches away from her nose.

“How are you not being ridiculous?” Hermione seethed quite unaware of her proximity to him. He was being difficult for the sake of it, how typical!

“Ridiculousness would be this, Granger.” Draco spoke lowly as leaned in, his mouth dangerously close to hers. His eyes took in her surprise once she realized how close he was, “It would be spent living your life in a dream.”

Hermione sat up violently from her bed. It had happened again! What the buggering hell was Draco Malfoy doing in all her dreams?! She couldn’t escape him, and yet the non-dreaming version had yet to say even two words to her since the start of the new school year. Annoyed she flopped back into her pillows and resolutely planned to brew another far more effective draught. This would be batch eighteen.

---

Chapter 2 is coming along and should be up by the end of the week.