I do not own any of the Characters in this story, they belong to JK Rowlings, this story was written purely for fun, no harm intended.
Harry Potter and the Temple of the Holy Cross
Chapter 1, Hermione's Dream
The wind howled through he drafty Hogwarts Castle at night awakening Hermione Granger from her deep rest. As she lay in bed her thoughts fixated on how close the school was to closing last year with the death of Dumbledore, and how close she was to following Harry off on his crusade against Voldemort's horcruxes. "How idiotic that would have been" she thought to herself, and to think that for the first time since Voldemort's return, apparently the ministry of magic didn't need Harry's help. Of the four suspected Horcruxes that remained, the Minstry of Magic's Auror Command had successfully destroyed three of them. Only Voldemort himself remained and every month since Dumbledore's death brought news of the capture of another death eater.
Indeed Rufus Scrimgeour and the Ministry of Magic could pat themselves on the back, "the war will be over by Halloween" Scrimgeour arrogantly boasted to the Daily Prophet earlier that summer. These thoughts flowed through her head as she lay quietly in the Gryffindor Tower's Girl's dormitory. She rejoiced at these facts, though Harry did not, for her it meant that the prophesy could have been misread, and the war could very well be over before she graduated from Hogwarts. For Harry, who was still hell-bent on revenge against Voldemort, Severus Snape, and Draco Malfoy, the Ministry's successes meant that someone other than himself was fighting what he had come to believe was his god-given crusade.
Her thoughts then turned to Ron, as she turned to her side facing the window, she stared longingly at Ron who held her hand in the photograph they had taken of eachother. The two smiled and waved at her, a smile grazed her lips as her thoughts turned to her future. Since Ron held her comfortingly in his arms at Dumbledore's funeral their relationship had grown serious, so serious that she was already convinced of her status as the future Mrs. Hermione Weasley, to her (and she suspected to Ron as well) it was only a question of when. She dreamt about Ron every night, except this one, something was wrong.
To her mind suddenly came the uneasy realization that she shouldn't be where she was, but where else, she did not know. It was an unsettling proposition to her that lying in her bed about to begin the first day of last her year at Hogwarts was not where she should be at the moment. She could not identify the subtle source of these thoughts, though she tried to rid her mind of them. She continued to brood over them when another stimulus entered her brain. At first she mistook it for a thought but no, there was a more concrete reality to this sentaion, it was real, it was… a sound!
A loud screeching sound that penetrated the walls of the drafty castle, she did not understand why Lavender, Parvadi or any of the other Girls who were with her did not awaken to it. At first she dismissed it as the wind, but then identified it as… as… a scream, a woman's scream, a terrible cry of distress. She quickly got out of bed, donned her slippers and exited the dormitory, going up a spiral staircase leading into the Gryffindor Common Room. She went out the painting which guarded the port hole entrance to the tower and found herself in the room in which the staircases move.
The scream came again, this time louder, emanating from somewhere a few floors below her feet. Her first instinctual reaction was to go to the professor's living quarters and contact Professor McGonagal, the Headmistress, but there was a sort of connection between she and this voice, she could not identify it. She descended a flight of stairs toward a lower floor of the castle and heard the scream again, it was on her floor. She found herself in a dark, stone, cavernous corridor with doors on both sides. The dark was broken only by a faint, twinkling light as if from a fire, emanating from one of the doors ajar to her left. She headed for the room cautiously, she heard the scream again, and again, and again repeatedly, whoever it was, was in deep torture.
Hermione inched to the door which could swing open to her, the screams were almost deafening, she pulled the door open revealing to her… herself, pregnant… lying on a bed across from the entrance with her legs spread. A dark hooded figure knelt in front of her genitle area blocking it from her sight. She gasped at the sight, she was at a loss for words, the Hermione on the bed caught her eye, both of them appeared to be in an equal amount of shock.
"Who are you?" The Hermione at the door asked, unsure of what else to say.
The Hermione on the bed did not respond but continued to breath heavily, the hooded figure arose slowly, turned around revealing a screwed up face and red eyes. Though Hermione had never seen him, she recognized him immediately from Harry's descriptions. Her first instinct was to run but her limbs froze, she stood in place as Lord Voldemort inched closer to her, coming to within an inch of her face, eyes gazing into hers. She mustered what little control of herself she had and began to inch away into a hand which took hold of her shoulder forcefully, a cold voice came from behind her, close enough to her ear that it could have whispered.
"Going Somewhere?" The Voice said. She recognized it instantly as that of Lucius Malfoy.
Voldemort closed the distance gained by Hermione in her failed attempt at inching away from him. He stared her down, a sudden cold came over the Room as Hermione recognized the presence of a dementor who had taken Voldemort's place at the bedside of the Hermione giving birth.
"Don't leave Miss Granger, you are just in time," Voldemort said calmly.
Hermione noticed over Voldemort's shoulder the dementor raising a baby in its hands, brining him to Voldemort who did not turn around to receive it. "A dream" She thought, this obviously was a dream; that must have been why she felt so out of place earlier. In addition there was no rational possibility that anything that was happening could be true.
"It's a dream," she whispered to herself, "only a dream."
"The Child Miss Granger," Said Voldemort. "Look at the child."
At first she did, but there was something about it, an odd combination of attachment and disgust. Whatever the feeling was, it was so powerful that she could not bear to behold the baby cradled in the dementor's hands. She looked away, but Voldemort took hold of her head with his hands in a very powerful grip, he forced her head in the direction of the baby.
"Look at the child Miss Granger."
Whatever ounce of strength and courage she had left failed her as she lost control of herself and began to scream for help as loudly as she possibly could. For several painfully long seconds no one came, she was quite sure that she would meet her end face-to-face with the dark lord when she suddenly felt the soft cushioning of a bed underneath her backside, she sat up forcefully, opening her eyes beholding Ginny Weasley's bedroom at the Burrow. Ginny was awake, sitting up in her bed with a frightened expression beholding Hermione, Molly Weasley was also in the room at Hermione's bedside, her arm already on Hermione's shoulder comfortingly.
"Are you alright dear?" Molly's comforting voice asked.
"What?" Hermione replied breathing heavily, noticing the sweat emanating from her forehead and cheeks.
"You were having a nightmare, we could hear you tossing and turning in the next room."
"What?" Hermione replied at first, she then finally came to terms with her surroundings, her mind let off a sigh of relief and thanksgiving to the powers that be, she regained her composure to address Molly. "Oh… er… I don't really know what to say."
"It's alright dear, happens to us all."
"Can I go to the kitchen to get a glass of water?"
"Of course, good night dear,"
Molly Weasley retired to her bedroom. Hermione descended the stairs of the Weasley cottage to their small kitchen. She retrieved a glass from a cupboard above the sink and then twisted the nossle of the sink revealing a smooth stream of water from which she filled her glass.
"Bad dream?" Came a unexpected voice from a few feet behind her.
She jumped, dropping her glass in the sink, luckily it did not shatter, she spun around to see Ron, drowsy eyed, his red hair in a mess, looking at her with a faint smile. She gave him a faint return smile.
"Ron, you scared the shit out of me."
"Bad dream?" Ron repeated.
"Strange dream."
"What happened?"
"Not sure if I can exactly explain, usual nightmare I guess."
Without a moment's hesitation, the smile on Ron's lips faded, he closed the distance between them quickly taking Hermione into his arms, bringing his lips to her's. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the intoxicating feeling of his lips pressing against hers and her's pressing against his. Her hands massaged his back, drawing circles around his shoulderblades. When they released eachother, she opened her eyes to find Ron's beautiful blue eyes staring into her chocolate browns. Her knees began to fail her, but she regained her composure, turned to the sink, refilled her glass and sat down at the table to drink, Ron joined her, holding one of her hands while her other moved the glass to her lips as she sipped her water.
"I can't believe this is our last year at Hogwarts," She began.
Ron was absolutely convinced, as did he suspect was Hermione, that the two would be married some time after they graduated from Hogwarts. Though deep inside Ron's Gryffindor courage beat a nervous, shaky unsure heart; he would be probably start training for Auror Command after they graduated, putting him on the front lines of the war against Voldemort. This was a frightening proposition to both Ron and Hermione. Ron pulled out of his pocket a gold ring; concealing it under the table, he played with it nervously in his hand.
"I was just thinking about that," he said. "With you trying for a position on the Committee on Expirimental Charms, and me beginning my training as an Auror, we won't be seeing eachother much we'll we?"
"Nothing can separate true love Ron," Hermione replied. "We'll see eachother."
"Hermione, I'm going to be training for war."
Hermione's head dropped slightly as if she was just reminded of some unbearable fact that she had tried thus far to forget.
"I know, that's the part that makes me nervous."
Ron slid his chair closer to her, and brought his head to her's. Their lips pressed against each other, slowly, softly. Hermione lips noticed a subtle shaking in Ron's. She pulled away with a mischievous smile.
"Your nervous!"
"I'm not nervous!"
"Yes you are!"
"I'm not!"
"You are!"
Hermione gave Ron a soft kiss.
"I haven't made you nervous in a while Ron, you'd think you were about to propose to me or something," she said with a very faint glimmer of hope in her voice.
Ron didn't know what to make of this, he put the ring quickly back into his pocket and brought his hand to the table.
"Yeah you'd think so wouldn't you," He said. "Well I have to get back to bed, Harry'll be here early tomorrow."
Hermione noticed that Ron's whole expression had become much less sure of itself, much less confident. His eyes were no longer on her but were looking down at their two hands interlocked with eachother.
"Harry won't be here till noon Ron, are you alright?"
"Yeah of course," Ron said, after which he gave her a peck on the cheek then stood up and walked to the stairs. "I'll talk to you tomorrow."