Harry Potter and the Resurrection of Camelot
Chapter Seven-Dreams and the Scheme of Things

A/N: Forgive! RL has been busy! Chapter Eight is about halfway done...the term starts in the next one. We'll have an imaginative Sorting Hat song as well...enjoy, and as always God bless.

One of the things Harry had gained a reprieve of since the death of Lord Voldemort had been a large downturn in the amount of nightmares he had each night. The night Ron had spilled his guts to him concerning Cho, however, a nightmare did come into the mind of Harry Potter, one that definately shocked him.

He was standing on a grassy hill, looking out at the sunrise, he was older, roughly twenty-five, just like he had been when Arabella had given him the Aging Potion before going into Wormtail's drug warehouse. He had his arm around a twenty-five year old Hermione Potter.

There was no other way to describe her, she was wearing a ring around her ring finger, and was wearing a white wedding dress. Harry brought her closer into his arms and she smiled. Everything was perfect.

Then the sky turned black and the ground shook, and Harry and Hermione tumbled to the ground. A man came up to them, a man with just slits for eyes and a nose, and a red face.

the man proclaimed, Am NEOVOLDEMORT!

And then the scene shattered into another, less blissful picture.

Harry was cradling a dead Hermione in his arms, holding her and kissing her with the energy that he knew was his last. Blood spewed, not seeped, from his arm, and a bruise on his head signified the fact that he had just gotten into a fight.
he whispered, Don't die on me.

And with that, Hermione's eyes opened.

Harry James Potter gasped.

The color around her pupils was red. Fangs grew out of her teeth, and the voice that game from Hermione was not Hermione's, but that of Voldemort.

I may be dead Potter, but my spirit lives on. You WILL die, Potter, and the Phinder's Heir, Lord Neovoldemort, will be there to make sure of it this time.

And the fangs seeped back into Hermione's mouth, her eyes turned brown, and she once again breathed her last.

Harry Potter woke up his bed, and reached out for Hermione.

Obviously, she wasn't there, he realized. Hermione was back in her bed in the girl's dorm, he knew. Safe and sound. Still, the dream had an adverse effect on him, and he felt scared and was even sweating.

In the common room, Harry was curled up on the sofa, fast asleep, when Hermione came down the stairs.

she whispered, thinking that he looked quite cute in his flannel pyjamas.

No answer.

she asked again, raising the level of her voice a little bit.

was Harry's only response as he rolled over a bit.

she whispered more urgently, It's eight o'clock, wake up!

Hobbes chose that inoppertune moment to walk in, wearing his school robes, but looking rather disheveled and yawning.

Hobbes asked, What are you doing down here with Harry?

Hermione turned around indignantly, and stared Hobbes down with a look very reminescent of Minerva McGonagall, Nothing! He was like this when I came down!

Relax British Woman, Hobbes said with a grin as he yawned again, I come in peace. Jeez, if he wasn't awake before you bellowed, nothing will ever wake him up.

Harry didn't even move, and Hobbes raised an eyebrow in wonderment, What'd you do Hermione? Sneak NyQuil into his hamburger at dinner last night?

Hermione snorted, she corrected, And I most certainly did not!

Through out the exchange between Hermi and Hobbes, Harry didn't even move a muscle.

Hobbes said softly, I suggest we pay more attention to your conked-out boyfriend at the moment.

Hermione rolled her eyes, and shook Harry.

Again, no response.

Hobbes sighed, whiped out his wand and yelled

Once again, no response.

Hobbes mumbled under his breath, Kiss him Hermione.

Hermione grinned, rolled Harry's body over and kissed him lovingly on the lips.

Harry sighed in obvious pleasure, but was just as obviously still asleep.

Hobbes growled in wonderment, How the heck?

Hermione sighed, and looked at Harry. Slowly, she put her finger on his scar and shook her head.

Let's tell Dumbledore.

Hobbes nodded.

Albus Dumbledore looked over the body of Harry Potter. Harry looked rather, well, dead. Nonetheless, he was still breathing, which was a surprising factor considering that everything else, from the cold skin to the eyes (when opened) rolled to the back of his head.

He had been laying there for twelve hours, on the hospital wing bed, Hermione Granger had not left his side for those twelve hours. She was continually holding his hand, and whispering that he would be all right.

She would occasionally lean over and kiss him, which made Harry stir, but other then that...nothing happened.

She sighed, after the torture of what had happened at the end of the year, them both in the same wing, hugging, kissing, checking out each other's scars, saying I love you.

She looked at Harry, Harry, I really do love you...never forget. I love you.

There was not even a simple sign that Harry had heard her, not even a movement of his hand.

Ron floated in and out of the room, Madam Pomfrey and Professor Dumbledore were continually checking his vital signs to make certain that being turned into a girl hadn't affected his future hold on life. He came in after Hermione had said those words, and when she looked up she saw tears brimming in his blue, but very feminine eyes.

Not another one, he rasped, I've known too many who have died... he went on a stream of many words that shocked Hermione. They were certainly not words she would have used under the circumstance, and besides that she had only cursed once or twice...maybe three or four times in her lifetime.

Laying prostrate on his back, Harry Potter felt as if he was directly under a thick sheet of glass. Looking straight forward he could see and feel both Hermione and Ron. Yet, he was powerless to touch them, and how he wanted to! He could hear Hermione confessing her love for him again and again and again. He wanted to answer once, and feel her luscious salty lips on his, hold her waist, rub her back, and... Thinking about it wouldn't change matters he figured, but he wondered what that dream he had meant. Would he and Hermione have perfect maritial bliss shattered by a dead hardly even man? Lord Voldemort? And for cripes sake, why was he thinking like Hermione? Because you git, he answered, you love her.

Prat, he thought, that's all I am, a prat. Why can't I answer Hermione, look at them! Ron is cussing his brains out, and I can hear everything, I should be able to do something! Harry looked at Hermione and winked as best as he could, but doing so felt like a fifty-kilogram weight was on his eyelash as he opened his eye again.

Hermione nearly died of shock. Harry blinked his eye and for a split-second, and she saw not pale skin but a pool of green...and then the eye flicked closed again.

Hermione jumped out of her seat and ran out to tell Professor Dumbledore. Other then a few shivers, this was the biggest reaction that Harry had given to anyone of them.

She ran into on the way out the door, of all people, Fluer Delacour.

Ron blushed immediately and tried to look the other way.

Fluer said smiling, Is zis another Weezley? I zot zat zay had all finisshed their schooling.

Er, yeah, Hermione tried to hold in her sniggering very unsuccesfully, This is Vera Weasley, she's a....French exchange student.

Fluer said with interest, I zever saw her at Beauxbatons.

Hermione felt read to kick herself, for once in her life, she was at a loss for words, She's a second year, so you wouldn't know her.

Fluer exclaimed, Zut zhe est so tall!

Hermione shrugged and was about to suggest that Miss Delacour leave the room and let her wake up Harry, but then Fluer saw Harry and ran to his side.

Oh she said, with true angiush on her face, Qui has happened here,

Hermione sighed, just what she needed right now, another distraction in her attempt to fix both Harry and Ron (for the last several nights, Hermione had been reading up on the most famous gender-changes involving witches and wizards).

Fluer chuckled, I know just what to do!

Hermione said sarcastically, Kiss him? I tried.

Fluer nodded, Zut you are not a veela!

With that, Fluer leaned over, sprinkled a bit of powder that seemed to come directly from her palm over Harry's nose, and kissed him squarely on the lips. Harry's body lurched and his eyes opened...just long enough to get a great view of Hermione Granger walking out of the door in a loud huff.