It was another blurry, rainy Thursday. A Thursday so sleepy and fuzzy, that you felt you could wrap yourself up in it and sleep peacefully forever. It didn't help that Hermione was in Professor Binn's class, trying to pay attention to the lesson. Her gaze flew from the window, to Harry, to the chalkboard, back to Harry, to her book, and then to Draco. She sighed.
It was a shame that Draco had a family like his. Bad blood runs in families. When she first saw him on The Hogwarts Express, she thought he would be as sweet as he was handsome, but apparently that bad blood ran to the surface. She scribbled down a date that Professor Binn's had muttered. It was probably important, but she didn't want to bother herself with the energy.
"Nostradamus was a wizard that has been reported to live in the 1500s AD. He had the gift of insight, and was able to see clearly into the future." Hermione stifled a small giggle, thinking about Professor Trelawney and her bug's eyes. "Even though his was a precious gift, he was too open about it in public, and some say that he devoted his time to the Dark Arts. Today, we call a person who truly has this gift as a 'Nostradamus.'"
What a surprise. Hermione thought sarcastically. Her eyes drooped more and more, until, she finally dozed off...
Dream Sequence
Harry and Ron were sitting at the table.
"So, what did you think about potions today?" The girl sitting across from them asked.
Where am I?
"It was horrible!" Ron exclaimed. The girl grinned evilly. "How is Pansy these days, anyways? Still her cheerful, beautiful self?" Ron gagged, making Harry snort into his Yorkshire pudding.
"Really? I had quite a nice time with the invisible ink potions." Harry smiled. "Just think! We can write horrible notes about Malfoy and no one would be able to read them." Harry and Ron grinned devilishly.
What is this? "Actually," The girl flipped back a lock of the frizz that tried to pass as hair, "There is a way that one can find out what it says. It's called a reversing potion. You can see what the person did in the past, anywhere from a minute ago, to a decade ago. It takes at least five wizards and witches to perform, though." She added hastily, seeing the distraught look on the boys' face. They still stared at her. "If you're going to look at me like that, I might as well leave!" The girl got up and left the room.
"Well, Ron?" Harry asked.
"What?"
What's going on? "Go ask her!" Harry motioned with his hand. Ron left...a few minutes passed, while Harry fidgeted with the food on his half-empty plate. Ron returned after several minutes.
"Well?" Harry asked.
"Yep. You were right. She loves you."
"Really?" Harry asked.
What the heck is going on, here?
"What'd you tell her?"
"I just made up some story that I was still in love with her."
WHAT?
"Cool." Harry sighed and placed his head on his arm. "What am I going to do? I love both of them, but...I just don't know what to do." Harry rested his head on the table with a loud THUNK!
Oh my god...
"Hey! What's that git doing?" Ron nodded towards Draco who was walking up towards the Gryffindor Tower. He looked over at Harry, who was busy writing something down on a piece of paper. He dipped his quill in a bottle that looked like it had nothing in it. Hermione couldn't tell what it said, but the words disappeared after a while.
"I don't care." Harry watched without interest.
"Miss Ginger?"
"How do I tell her, Ron?" Harry looked forlorn at his friend.
"Miss...James?"
"I don't know, Harry, but don't do or say anything stupid."
"MISS Granger!"
Hermione sat up. "What?" she blinked the sleepiness away.
"I'm glad you're back with us in the real world, Miss Ginger." He glided back to the front of the room. The Slytherin part of the class laughed. Ron coughed away what seemed to be a snort.
"Granger." Hermione muttered under her breath. She turned back into the note-taking freak that she had always been, and by the end of class, had gotten a good three-and-a-half pages on the Goblin Rebellions (again. Each year they studied the Goblin Rebellions to some extent. Why should this year be unlike the others?)
Once they had gotten to the common room after dinner, Hermione tried to concentrate on her Transfiguration homework, but found that she was drifting off back to the dream. What did it all mean? The only time her intuition (that's what she called it) flared up like this was when something was terribly amiss. It's only been this strong once before. Once, when she was eleven, she had a wonderful dream that something important was coming to change her life. It was frightening, yet invigorating at the same time. An owl came to her, delivering important news, but then her parents began to fight and nearly divorced. That was what happened.
Several weeks later, she got the letter from Hogwarts. Her father was so pleased for her, that he bought her several extra books that she wanted to read, but her mother wouldn't stand for it. She couldn't bear to let Hermione out of her sight. Hermione's mother was sometimes overprotective like that. They argued and argued until finally, her mother submitted. It had been one of the most exciting, yet hellish times of her life.
Now, that was exactly what Hermione was feeling...again. The thrill of Harry loving her and the betrayal of him and Ron lying to her was mixed into a large mass of confusion lodged in her throat. She traced her finger over the words on the paper that she had kept.
I will always love you.
Was it from Harry or Draco?
Harry?
Or Draco?
Well? You know the drill! The threat this time is NOT The Hanson Brothers again, though, so you can relax. It is...um...err...a really cracked out game called Spyro The Dragon...It's a cool game, don't get me wrong, but man...is it cracked out...REVIEW!!!!!!!!! Or I'll send Spyro to kill you!
Have a Nice Day!