Hermione Granger shot up from her bed, body dripping with sweat as she recalled that night's dream. The monsters had been surrounding her in a field that continued as far as she could see. No trees. Nobody human. Just her and them. She scanned the horizon and made out another shape. A boy! Bound and held back from the impending circle of monsters. His shaggy pale blond hair hung in his face as his mouth grimaced, his muscles flexed against his bonds, unconsciously struggling to break free.
Mentally shaking herself to snap out of it, she climbed from her bed and gingerly placed her toes on the cold floor. Heading out of the room, down the carpeted stairs, and across the warm common room to her best friends sleeping form on the softest couch. She stepped close to the boy and lowered herself down to the side where he wasn't lying.
Harry looked so peaceful, Hermione thought, lying there, snuggled tight in his blankets. He usually came to the common room after he experienced a dream and because of that he was probably really tired too. However, Harry had to be woken up so, Hermione gently shook him awake, softly calling his name.
Harry moaned, "not yet, I'm too tired", into the side of the couch, affirming Hermione's earlier assumptions.
"Harry, we have to talk about tonight's dream" Hermione stated firmly ignoring the exaggerated snores her friend was giving off as phony sleep, "c'mon".
Harry peeled open his vibrant green eyes and stared into the honey brown of Hermione's. Silently realising that he had projected his dream to his best friend again. Looking more closely through guilty, downcast eyes Harry realised that Hermione was drenched in sweat. He shivered, even though the dreams didn't affect him as much anymore he hated seeing Hermione like this, worry behind her eyes.
Biting his lip with shame Harry replied, "how bad was it?"
Hermione looked up at Harry and gave him a simple shoulder shrug and sympathetic smile. It was bad enough he couldn't remember the dreams but now they were too bad even Hermione didn't want to describe them to him? He needed help. He needed to stop this in whatever means necessary.
Instead he sighed, " 'mione, please just tell me. I want to-no I need to help you. Help myself even. Maybe I can leave Hogwarts now that I'm of age to defeat Voldemort's leftover followers. Dumbledore will let me once I tell him what has been happening, he's got to."
After his brilliant soliloquy Harry looked into Hermione's eyes and only saw pride shining through the welling up tears.
"Oh Harry," she cried grasping him in a bone crushing hug, "I love you, I know you can do this, I do really, I-I just don't want to see you get hurt!"
Harry grasped her back and did not let go until other students made their way through the common room towards the Great Hall for breakfast. They entered the Hall to see teachers at the high table and students milling about between the tables. At a glance they both noticed Ron at the Gryffindor table and quickly sat with him, Hermione beside and Harry across. As soon as they sat down Ron continued their conversation from dinner last night about the dwindling number of "seventh-years" who were technically eighth-years due to the war against Voldemort.
"Glad Malfoys gone, right Harry, he was a right pain" he exclaimed waving his arms about as he continued his tale of all the "annoying" or "strange" eighth-years who had left the school instead of finishing their Hogwarts education. Harry and Hermione could only nod along to the one sided conversation until they excused themselves to talk about the dream.