By: PepperjackCandy
Rating: PG13 (up to "second base" explicit, beyond that implied)
Disclaimer: All belongs to J.K. Rowling. Not to me.
Warning: This will be a slash story (Harry/Draco) eventually, though romantically-slashy, rather than erotically-slashy. Hence the PG-13 rating.
Yes, I love licorice. Especially black licorice jelly beans, and things like Good & Plenty, that stick to your teeth. And I've just loved the term "licorice allsorts" ever since I first heard the term on an old Two Ronnies episode.
I'm *not,* however, particularly fond of cream cheese.
====================
"Harry?" Ron's voice came from beyond the curtains surrounding Harry's bed. "You all right?"
"Yeah. Fine. Just had a bad dream."
Ron pushed the curtains open and stuck his head in. "You sure?"
Harry nodded. "I'm sure."
"Because some of your bad dreams . . ."
Harry sighed. "This was no more than an ordinary bad dream. I'm certain of it." He wanted to put the disturbing dream of Draco Malfoy behind him, so he decided that as long as Ron was up, he'd change the subject. "So, how did things go with Hermione after I left the room?"
Ron grinned, and by the light of the gibbous moon outside, Harry could almost see his friend blush. "Things are all right."
"You ironed things out?"
"Um. . . Yeah. And I guess I didn't have any reason to be jealous of you, after all." His grin grew wider, if that was at all possible.
Harry had to fight off a brief pang of jealousy when he realized that a social circle that had once been five friends, was now two couples, and him. He was now the only person in their group who had not paired off. "I'm really happy for both of you." He said, and meant it.
* * *
On his way down to breakfast the next morning, he ran into Ginny and Neville. "Hi, Harry!" Ginny smiled at him. "You wanna join us for breakfast?"
Harry smiled back. "Sure. Thanks for asking. Though . . ." he paused. "Could I talk to you alone for a second?"
"More secrets?" Neville asked good-naturedly.
Harry tried to make it sound as minor as he could. "Just need a feminine opinion on a personal problem."
"Then by all means," Neville walked away, leaving Ginny and Harry alone.
Harry directed Ginny to a pair of chairs next to each other. "I had a nightmare last night, and when I woke up, my scar," he unconsciously touched the scar in question, "was hurting."
Ginny's eyes widened. "Oh, Harry! Why are you even asking me? You've *got* to tell someone!"
"It's because I don't think that there's any reason for it to have hurt. You see, the dream wasn't about Voldemort. It was about Draco Malfoy."
"Draco?"
"Yes, and, you see, *he* was what I was so worried about on Sunday night. He hadn't shown up, and I thought that maybe something had happened to him. So I'm afraid that my dream was only more of that same worry coming through."
"Harry?"
"Yeah?"
"Has it ever occurred to you that there might be a *reason* why you were worried about him?"
"Like what?"
"Like maybe he's in some kind of trouble. What are you supposed to do when your scar hurts?"
"Tell Dumbledore about it." He chose not to bring mention of his exiled Godfather, Sirius, into it.
"Then that's what I recommend you do."
"Ginny! Harry! Let's get going." Neville complained from the other side of the room.
Harry stood and said so that Neville could hear. "You two go on down to breakfast. I think I'm going to take your advice."
It didn't take Harry long to arrive at the gargoyle that marked the entrance to Dumbledore's room, and after listing Honeydukes' sweets for several minutes, he finally hit on the one that made the gargoyle jump aside and let him through -- Licorice All-the-Other-Sorts, which, rather than being jellybeans, gumdrops, squares and those little pastel-colored things that look like round steak bones, come in all of the forms you *don't* expect licorice to come in - like bubble gum, little wax bottles full of licorice-flavored liquid, licorice-flavored "Pixie Sticks" and something that could best be described as "licorice brittle".
Soon, the moving staircase had deposited Harry outside of Dumbledore's office. He knocked on the door.
"Come in, Harry." Dumbledore called out.
Harry, who had long since stopped even wondering how Dumbledore knew it was he who was standing outside, stuck his head into Dumbledore's office. "'Morning, sir."
"Good morning, Harry. Don't just stand around in the entry like that. Come on in and have a seat."
After Harry complied, Dumbledore handed him a plate. "Would you like something to eat?"
"Thank you, Sir." Harry said, taking a piece of pastry covered in sticky icing from the plate. He bit into it, and found it to be full of apricot filling.
Dumbledore took a pastry as well. "So, what brings you to see me so early in the morning?"
Harry swallowed his latest bite of pastry. "I had a dream last night, sir. And my scar was hurting when I woke up. Though I don't think it really means anything . . ."
"And why don't you think that it means anything?"
"Because the dream wasn't about Voldemort, sir. It was about Draco Malfoy."
Dumbledore's eyebrows shot up. "Draco Malfoy?"
"It was a memory of something that happened the day of my last trip to Hogsmeade last year. I was coming into the prefects' bathroom, and passed Malfoy on his way out. And when I watched him leave, instead of seeing the hallway outside the bathroom, I saw Voldemort outside the bathroom. Or rather, Voldemort's eyes."
"Did you?" Dumbledore said in an assessing tone. "Interesting. And then when you awoke, your scar was hurting?"
"Yes, sir."
Harry could tell from the expression that Dumbledore was mulling over the significance of something. But Dumbledore kept his expression neutral as he said, "Well, perhaps it doesn't mean anything. But thank you for letting me know and," he emphasized this part clearly, "be sure to tell me if your scar hurts any time again in the future."
"I will, sir." Harry stood to leave, and as he left, Dumbledore offered the plate of pastries again. He took another one, which turned out to be filled with cream cheese.
As he opened the door to Dumbeldore's office, he passed Snape in the hallway. He wasn't sure whether to speak to Snape or not, but Snape walked past him without acknowledging his presence, so Harry just sneaked past, trying not to draw his attention.
Without knocking, Snape threw open the door to Dumbledore's office. "We've got to talk about Draco . . ." Harry heard before the door snicked shut behind Snape.
Harry, knowing he was already running late for Herbology, decided against hanging around to eavesdrop, and instead munched on his cream cheese pastry as the staircase took him back down to the hallway below.
He hurried from there to Herbology class, where Professor Sprout was beginning a lecture on which trees to grow for which specific purposes. Harry found Hermione and Ron quickly and whispered to them, "Did I miss anything?"
Hermione shook her head. "She just finished calling the roll."
"Where were you this morning?" Ron asked.
"I had to go see Dumbledore about something." Harry whispered back, not wishing to bring his dream of Draco back into it.
"And who knows what the hawthorn tree brings protection from?" Sprout asked then.
All of the students shrugged, looking from one to the other.
Sprout looked disappointed, as she had gotten used to the outside reading that Neville had always done and could usually count on him for a correct answer.
Sprout sighed. "It brings protection from lightning strikes." she said, as she continued the lecture.
* * *
After Herbology, Harry, Ron and Hermione went to lunch, where they met up with Neville and Ginny.
"So?" Hermione asked their friend. "How did the first day in the hospital wing go?"
Neville positively glowed. "It was wonderful! A Hufflepuff accidentally turned all of his hair into feathers in Transfiguration, and I actually *helped* turn it back into hair."
The other Gryffindors, knowing full well Neville's tendency to turn any act of magic, no matter how small, into an unmitigated disaster, were duly impressed with this news, and they congratulated him with hugs and pats on the backs as unrestrained as if Neville had single-handedly won the House Cup for Gryffindor.
"Thanks." Neville blushed after his friends had settled down. "And Madam Pomfrey says that if I keep this up, *she* will be helping *me* with cures by October."
This began the rounds of celebration anew, after which they got their lunches.
"If you keep going like this, there'll be a job waiting for you at St. Mungo's when you graduate," Hermione gushed a she tucked into her food.
Harry gasped, and heard a corresponding intake of breath from Ginny.
Hermione, having heard their gasps, looked from Harry to Ginny. "Did I say something wrong?"
"No." Neville responded. "Of course you didn't." He looked at Harry curiously. "It's just that . . ."
But Neville got no farther, for the room suddenly grew silent, and then a wave of muttering spread from the doors outwards, until it reached Harry at the Gryffindor table.
"Draco's back!"