Disclaimer: Hundreds of people crowd around me, all asking questions at once. "For the last time! I DO NOT own Harry Potter! I am not J. K. Rowling in disguise!" Goddamn paparazzi.

IMPORTANT: This is the sequel to "The Strange Daydreams of Hermione Granger" - if you haven't read that, you'll probably be a little confused.


Chapter 1 (Huh, Guess They Don't Really Melt)


A flash of lightning briefly illuminated the courtyard. Thunder followed almost instantly, proclaiming the storm's presence over the school. Students hurried through the covered walkways next to the courtyard, enjoying the warm, clean scent of a summer storm, but not wanting to get wet.

Only a few people noticed something was off. Warm rain was nothing unusual, of course, but it was more likely to be seen during June… not December, as it was now.

Draco leaned against one of the support columns between the walkway and the courtyard, staring out into the downpour, a small frown on his face.

His frown deepened when a faint noise reached his ears, almost completely drowned out by the storm. A ship's bell?

"Oi!" a tall, dark-skinned boy shouted. He ran up to Draco, leaning one arm against the column opposite him and started panting. "I've been looking all over for you, mate," Blaise Zabini told him. "Prof. wants to see you before class."

Draco raised an eyebrow. There was no need to ask who Blaise meant. "Did he say why?"

Blaise laughed, "As if he'd tell me?"

Draco grinned at his friend. "Thanks, Zabini."

"'Course," he nodded. Pushing himself away from the stone pillar with a grunt, he walked away, lifting his hand in a wave goodbye.

Shaking his head, Draco made his way towards the dungeons. His frown returned as the inevitable question formed in his mind: What did his godfather want?

Knocking on the office door, he tried not to give away his nervousness as he waited.

"Enter," intoned his godfather, doorway creaking open of its own accord. Thunder rumbled overhead at the same instant. The room was dark, lit only by the flickering glow of the fireplace. Strange objects interred in jars loomed above on shelves, looking mysterious and disgusting in the dim light.

Draco rolled his eyes. His godfather had always been prone to theatrics. "You wanted to see me, Professor?" he asked once through the door, noting with some amusement that it ghosted shut behind him.

Snape raised an eyebrow at him. "Indeed. It is a… less than formal matter, however."

"Ah," Draco said, taking a seat in front of the man's desk. "Really, Severus. The door?"

His godfather chuckled and waved a hand, causing several candles along the walls to flare to life. "A third year Ravenclaw actually had the gall to approach me over a low grade, earlier. That little move sent him running back to his tower, where he belongs."

Draco chuckled appreciatively, but stopped when he saw the look Severus was giving him.

"I received a letter from your mother earlier today." Draco jerked upright in his chair at these words, and the man continued. "Your father has been… released… from Azkaban."

"He bribed his way out, you mean," Draco snorted, scowling.

His godfather frowned, but didn't deny it. "He wants to see us, after he's had a few days to recover and settle a few business difficulties."

"He's not coming here?" Draco questioned, alarmed.

"He is."

Draco's mouth opened, then shut. Finally he said, "I… see." He cleared his throat roughly. "When?"

"I imagine it would be this Saturday," Severus said, deadpan.

Four days.

He stood up abruptly, hands fidgeting at his sides until he forced them into the pockets of his school robes. "If that's all…?"

Severus eyed him coolly for a moment before nodding curtly and turning his gaze to the papers on his desk.

Stalking out of his godfather's office, Draco stopped dead, three feet from the door. His fisted hands trembled within his pockets and his clenched jaw ached from the tension. Slowly he forced his muscles to relax, one by one, until he was able to walk down the hallway using his normal superior gait.

That's right,sneered a voice in his head. Always the good little Malfoy – never letting your real emotions show.

He drew in a harsh breath as he stepped out into the rain-soaked air of the courtyard. This time he didn't stay under the roofing, stepping directly into the water dropping from the sky as if from buckets.

He was soaked though instantly, but he didn't care. It washed all conscious thought away, and it felt good.


Hermione jumped slightly as thunder roared directly outside her window. A high wind whipped past, rattling the glass and shrieking as it was forced to go around the high tower.

Looking at the window with confused alarm, she bit her lip. The rain had started lightly but now – this was torrential.

Almost like a tropical storm.

Shaking her head, she gathered up her homework and slid it neatly into her bag before descending the steps leading to the common room. Harry and Ron were, as usual, playing chess.

"Come on, you lot. We don't want to be late for potions," Hermione said, shifting the weight of her bag to her shoulder.

"Checkmate," Ron announced.

Harry sighed and knocked his king over. "I dunno why I bother."

"Cheer up, Gryffin, you'll win one of these days," Ron grinned.

Hermione's head jerked up from where she'd been collecting the boys' homework into piles. "What'd you just say, Ron?" she questioned.

Ron looked at her with a puzzled expression. "I just told Harry that he'd win a chess game someday."

"Oh," she said, frowning. "I guess I just misheard."

Harry looked at her with concern, collecting his things. "You sure you're alright, 'Mione?"

He was, of course, referring to the fact that she'd been in a coma – for all intents and purposes, anyway – only the day before. She'd told them a highly glossed-over account of her dream, leaving the fact that Draco Malfoy had been there with her completely out. It had seemed wrong somehow to share all of the details, and though she had told them about Sullen N. Morose and his parrot – that one had been too good not to share – she hadn't told them about 'Gryffin' or 'Weatherby.'

She nodded, "Madam Pomfrey said the spell is completely out of my system."

The boys exchanged a worried glance, and she sighed exasperatedly. "I'm going to potions, with or without you," she declared, crossing the room and climbing through the portrait hole.

The boys quickly caught up with her, and they laughed and chatted about nothing.

"…So the chicken is flapping all around the house, right, trying to get the gnome – the twins are still denying everything and Mum's screaming at 'em. The gnome somehow gets up on the table – and of course the bloody bird is right after him –"

"Oh no, the cake…?" Hermione gasped between bouts of laughter.

Ron nodded solemnly. "The bird landed right square in the cake and splattered it everywhere. Wound up going for ice cream instead."

Harry laughed, "But did you get the gnome out of the house?"

"Oh, yeah – Mum finally found her wand and stunned the thing and tossed it out into the field. The chicken followed it out, of course, all covered in my birthday cake. 'Sides from the waste of good cake, that was a good birthday," he said, grinning.

The three shared a laugh as they turned towards the dungeon corridor, but, as usual, their spirits dampened as they neared the Potions classroom.

They entered the room quietly, finding seats together just before the bell rang. She immediately glanced around the room, frowning slightly when she saw Draco was absent. Professor Snape came into the room in his usual theatrical fashion, immediately docking points from a Ravenclaw who hadn't quite made it to his seat yet.

The trio exchanged a look; Snape was obviously in a bad mood – or worse than usual, at least.

A few minutes into Snape's lecture about Polyjuice potion, the door opened, allowing a damp-looking Draco Malfoy into the room. Snape's eyebrow rose as the boy left wet footprints on the floor, but continued his lesson without comment when Draco took his seat.

Hermione tried to catch his eye, but his attention remained firmly on the notes he was taking.

"Biased greasy bat-faced git! Can you believe that?" Ron growled.

Harry scowled, "Yeah, unfortunately. It has been happening for six years after all."

"Shh, don't attract Snape's attention," Hermione hissed, peeling her worried gaze away from Draco.

Fortunately, Professor Snape seemed to remain ignorant of their conversation for once, and the rest of the lesson passed without major incident.


Elsewhere in the castle, House Elves murmured amongst themselves in their native tongue. They could sense the changes more keenly than the wizards and witches, though they could do nothing about it.

For the past two years, the magic of the castle had been intensifying as the humans prepared for war. But now, something had shifted….

Ancient, forgotten magic was about to be awoken.


A/N: Oh goodness. I must apologize for the delay of getting this up. First it was writers' block, then it was perfectionism, then it was my "editor's" (-cough- more extreme -cough-) perfectionism, then a little bit from my proofreader as well!

Even this doesn't have the final approval from my "editor," but I was getting impatient - I can't imagine how you, the reader, feels...

On that note -cowers- please don't throw rotten vegetables (or fruit!) at me! I know this chapter wasn't the best, but I promise more whackyness and romance and stuff later!

Also - I don't know when I'll have the next chapter up. I'm still suffering a wee bit of that writer's block.

So, sorry for making you wait. To quik-wit, Lya Darkfury, the ever-so-mysterious # and (dollar sign), and everyone else who reviewed the first one, and everyone who will reviews this one - I LOVE YOU GUYS -sappy music!-