Dun dun dun. Second installment. These characters/places/etc. are still not
mine. Ask J.K. Rowling. -Any comments would be greatly welcomed, good or
"flames" (if you will). (Thank you to everyone who has reviewed! It's great
to get feedback. please, continue..)
Ron and Harry walked down to the Gryffindor common room to find it deserted. The snow and wind outside began to howl, echoing off the stone walls. Tomorrow was Christmas, yet Harry and Ron had other things on their minds.
Crookshanks, with her ginger tail, came bellowing down the girls' side of the dormitory, followed closely by Hermione. Ron and Harry looked up in unison and stared at her, wide-eyed, like they had just seen the Bloody Baron. She came to a halt on the stairs.
"What?" she looked down at her robe and nightgown, "Do I have something on me?" The boys both shook their heads. "Then what is it? My hair?" She traveled the rest of the way down the stairs and stopped, staring at the boys, waiting for an answer. A small "hmmm" could be heard coming from her opened mouth. Ron and Harry looked at each other, not saying a word. They led her to sit down in one of the plush armchairs, knowing that once they told her, Hermione would flip out. Harry started. He described the dream just as vividly as it had happened, while both of his friends listened intently. Before Hermione had time to interject ("You should go to Dumbledore this instant! It says in 'Subconscious: A Look Into The Dreamscope' that dreams must be interpreted and taken seriously! Something terrible could happen Harry!"), Ron began to tell his part. He was quite proud of it. Examining every detail of the "pop" and his reassurance to Harry that it certainly wasn't there last night. When he had finished, the common room was silent except for the crackling of the fire. Hermione stood, surveying the room as if looking for a lost lunascope. Finally, she turned to Ron and Harry and spoke -
"So." she began hesitantly, "it couldn't have apparated. So, we know it wasn't a trick. We know this is serious, Harry."
"And why couldn't it have apparated?" Ron asked, still thinking his explanation was completely logically, knowing his brothers.
"Because," Hermione started hotly, "if you had read 'Hogwarts: A History' like I've always told you to do, then you would know that it is impossible to apparate or disapparate inside the Hogwarts castle. A person or otherwise."
Harry sat thinking, wondering what his next move would be. He started slowly -
"Let's just forget it. Just forget it. I think we should deal with it later, and not worry about it until after Holiday."
"After Holiday, Harry? Are you crazy? What if something like this happens again? This could be important, Harry!" Ron moaned.
"Well, there's no use worrying about it now, is there? We haven't enough information to solve anything. As a compromise, Harry, we'll forget it now-"
"Hermione!"
"Listen, Ron.We'll forget it now, but anything else happens - anything at all - we talk to Dumbledore and get it figured out."
"Fine. just as long we don't have to deal with it now." Harry was replaying the dream in his head, sitting by the fire. He could hear the urgency in his mother's voice, the complete helplessness. He couldn't handle not being able to help her, his own mother. She needed help, but he had no way of doing anything. "She's dead already, Harry. Dead. There's nothing you can do." he thought. But he felt like he could. He felt a looming presence that would help him. But what was it? Certainly he wouldn't figure it out that morning, so he tried, as hard as could, to put it into the back of his mind. His mother's passionate voice he stuffed into the very back and suppressed it as hard as he could. Harry couldn't listen anymore, he couldn't do anything, so what was the point?
Ron and Harry walked down to the Gryffindor common room to find it deserted. The snow and wind outside began to howl, echoing off the stone walls. Tomorrow was Christmas, yet Harry and Ron had other things on their minds.
Crookshanks, with her ginger tail, came bellowing down the girls' side of the dormitory, followed closely by Hermione. Ron and Harry looked up in unison and stared at her, wide-eyed, like they had just seen the Bloody Baron. She came to a halt on the stairs.
"What?" she looked down at her robe and nightgown, "Do I have something on me?" The boys both shook their heads. "Then what is it? My hair?" She traveled the rest of the way down the stairs and stopped, staring at the boys, waiting for an answer. A small "hmmm" could be heard coming from her opened mouth. Ron and Harry looked at each other, not saying a word. They led her to sit down in one of the plush armchairs, knowing that once they told her, Hermione would flip out. Harry started. He described the dream just as vividly as it had happened, while both of his friends listened intently. Before Hermione had time to interject ("You should go to Dumbledore this instant! It says in 'Subconscious: A Look Into The Dreamscope' that dreams must be interpreted and taken seriously! Something terrible could happen Harry!"), Ron began to tell his part. He was quite proud of it. Examining every detail of the "pop" and his reassurance to Harry that it certainly wasn't there last night. When he had finished, the common room was silent except for the crackling of the fire. Hermione stood, surveying the room as if looking for a lost lunascope. Finally, she turned to Ron and Harry and spoke -
"So." she began hesitantly, "it couldn't have apparated. So, we know it wasn't a trick. We know this is serious, Harry."
"And why couldn't it have apparated?" Ron asked, still thinking his explanation was completely logically, knowing his brothers.
"Because," Hermione started hotly, "if you had read 'Hogwarts: A History' like I've always told you to do, then you would know that it is impossible to apparate or disapparate inside the Hogwarts castle. A person or otherwise."
Harry sat thinking, wondering what his next move would be. He started slowly -
"Let's just forget it. Just forget it. I think we should deal with it later, and not worry about it until after Holiday."
"After Holiday, Harry? Are you crazy? What if something like this happens again? This could be important, Harry!" Ron moaned.
"Well, there's no use worrying about it now, is there? We haven't enough information to solve anything. As a compromise, Harry, we'll forget it now-"
"Hermione!"
"Listen, Ron.We'll forget it now, but anything else happens - anything at all - we talk to Dumbledore and get it figured out."
"Fine. just as long we don't have to deal with it now." Harry was replaying the dream in his head, sitting by the fire. He could hear the urgency in his mother's voice, the complete helplessness. He couldn't handle not being able to help her, his own mother. She needed help, but he had no way of doing anything. "She's dead already, Harry. Dead. There's nothing you can do." he thought. But he felt like he could. He felt a looming presence that would help him. But what was it? Certainly he wouldn't figure it out that morning, so he tried, as hard as could, to put it into the back of his mind. His mother's passionate voice he stuffed into the very back and suppressed it as hard as he could. Harry couldn't listen anymore, he couldn't do anything, so what was the point?
