Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of the books' characters! They belong to J.K Rowling, so don't sue me!!

Summary: When Ron becomes engaged to Fleur Delacour, someone shows Hermione that Ron may not be the guy for her after all

** *

Forbidden?

Chapter Five: Sweet Dreams

**

"Have you got any idea where Hermione is, Ron?" Harry asked his best friend late Monday evening. It was just after dinner, and Hermione hadn't shows up for dinner and Harry was beginning to get a little concerned.

Ron was engaged in conversation with Fleur in the Great Hall, both of them stalling for time before having to leave for their respective Houses. At Harry's appearance and question, he turned around and seemed puzzled. "I dunno, Harry," he shrugged. "Haven't seen her since Transfiguration."

Harry frowned, wondering where she could be. Fleur, obviously irritated by this interruption and by the fact that Hermione was the topic of discussion, said rather tartly: "'Ave you checked ze library, 'Arry? Doesn't she live zere?"

Normally, this remark might have irked Harry and perhaps even Ron, but this time both were simply delighted. "Gee, thanks, Fleur!" Ron grinned and kissed his fiancé on the cheek. "How could we not have thought of that?"

"Me and my big mouth." Fleur muttered under her breath.

They separated then, and Ron followed Harry towards the library in search of their other best friend. "Dunno what she'd have to do there, Harry," Ron commented. "She hasn't been in the library since school started last week; why would she go in there now?"

"I don't know," Harry shrugged. "But she hasn't been herself lately, especially not in the last couple of days. Her mind seems to be elsewhere."

"Wonder where," Ron mused.

Reaching the library, the two teenagers entered and finally found her hidden in a corner, sitting in a squashy armchair, eyes vacant and faraway, not really focusing on the thin book lying open in her hands.

She barely even glanced up when they sat down in the chairs close by. Harry glanced at Ron and then said slowly: "'Mione?"

At that, her head snapped up, and she frowned at Harry. "Oh, hi, Harry, Ron." She said with a slight smile. "What are you both doing here?"

"Uh - looking for you maybe?" Ron suggested sarcastically. "What's up with you, Hermione? You've been off in your own world these past few days. We're getting worried about you."

"I've been studying." She muttered.

Ron snorted. "In the second week of school? Yeah right, Hermione, that's a bit rich even for you."

"Haha." Hermione narrowed her eyes at him.

Harry hastily interrupted a familiar squabble at this point to say: "You didn't show up for dinner just now, 'Mione, even Professor Dumbledore called me aside to ask where you were and if you were all right." He sighed. "Where's your mind been?"

Hermione sighed and swallowed hard. If only they knew . . .

"Trust me, Harry," she said with absolute honesty. "You DON'T want to know where my mind's been."

Harry and Ron exchanged a confused, rather curious and concerned glance. Hermione wasn't usually this mysterious, and they had never seen her behave this way - her voice so low, her eyes so hopeless.

"Won't you tell us?" Ron asked, almost pleadingly.

"Over my dead body." She snorted, smiling and looking amused. "This is one of those things a girl never tells her male friends about."

"Is it a guy?" Ron and Harry both demanded at the same time, grinning.

She laughed. "Maybe it is, and maybe it isn't," the sparkle in her eyes flattened for a second. "You both may as well go back to the tower and get to bed, 'coz I'm not going to tell you."

They stood up, and Harry frowned: "Aren't you coming?"

"I'll be here for a little while," she murmured. "Some things to think about."

"Okay," Harry agreed and he smiled down at her. "Good luck, 'Mione. With whatever's on your mind. I'm sure you'll get what you want. Sweet dreams tonight."

She returned the smile rather weakly. Ron patted her shoulder reassuringly. "Just remember," he said seriously, "No matter what, we'll always be here for you. Whether you want to talk or anything else."

"And also," Harry added. "If you think you need an adult to talk to, Lupin is always there and you know Sirius would do anything to help."

It was perhaps fortunate for Hermione that they were already walking away, because at Harry's words her face seemed to flush a bright red and then turn pale with hopelessness.

She listened as their footsteps died out of the library, and she sank lower into the chair, hidden from view from anyone roaming casually through the library at such a late hour.

Minutes passed, and it was an indefinable amount of time later when Hermione felt her eyes close from exhaustion, and she finally drifted into sleep.

It was also in that same position, two hours later, that Sirius Black found her.

***

Sirius hadn't planned on going to library that night, but when he'd bumped into Ron and Harry near the entrance to Gryffindor Tower; they had mentioned something about Hermione and her strange behavior.

He had tried, but many minutes later, he couldn't resist the impulse to go there and find her, maybe talk to her. He hoped, rather insanely and unreasonably, that it wasn't Ron who was still causing her mood swings.

"You're insane, Black." He muttered to himself as he entered the darkened library. Madam Pince, the librarian, had left for the night.

Why was he still here? Surely Hermione wouldn't still be in here in the dim light?

Yet some compelling force kept him in the room, and exhaling slowly almost as if regain some control of himself, he began to search the shadows for any sign of the pretty teenage girl.

When he found her, curled up in the armchair, looking so small, vulnerable and achingly attractive, he felt his throat constrict and a flood of emotions that he had never felt before flow through him as if it were in his blood.

"'Mione?" he gently tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear, his voice hoarse. "Wake up."

She didn't wake up, but stirred slightly in her sleep, murmuring something in a drowsy, soft voice that sent shivers tingling right through him.

Groaning at the thought of what this was going to do him, he leaned down and scooped her up into his arms. She shifted slightly, and snuggled contentedly into the safe haven of his arms, as if it were her bed.

"Damn it." He muttered, swallowing the whirlpool of emotion that grew and swirled within him, more powerful than anything he'd ever experienced in his life; more powerful even than the pain of Voldemort's magic, or his time in Azkaban.

He turned around and with her lightweight in his arms, carried her out of the library and into the hallway, heading through the dim corridors for the entrance to her Tower.

Mercifully, he met no one on the way. Filch and Mrs. Norris seemed to be at some other corner of the great castle. No ghosts came by, and Sirius could only thank his stars (or maybe Albus Dumbledore) that there was no one here.

At the entrance to the Fat Lady's Portrait, Sirius gave the snoozing Lady the password and entered the common room, which was warm and empty.

Knowing that he couldn't very well carry her up to the girls' dormitory and get her into bed, he knew that he had to wake her up, as much as he was reluctant to, seeing the look of tranquility on her sleeping face that was so rarely there.

"Sweet dreams, 'Mione." He murmured softly, compellingly.

She turned her head blindly, burrowing into his chest and sending a wave of fire pouring through him. The child-like movement struck his heart in a way that nothing ever had, and looking down at her with stricken eyes, he saw not only beauty, but also innocence. Youth.

What the hell was he doing?!

"Hermione." He said, louder and just a touch sharply.

She awoke then, her eyes drifting open slowly. She gazed up at him with a thin film of sleep over her beautiful eyes; giving him a very sexy look that sent shock waves pulsing through him.

Then she seemed to realize what was happening and she flew out of his grasp. He should have probably felt relieved, and glad, but he only felt empty somehow.

"Sirius!" she stammered, blushing to the roots of her hair. "I - I'm sorry. I didn't realize - I - thank you - "

"It's okay, 'Mione," he gave her a reassuring smile. "You were asleep; nothing to be sorry about. I should go now," he mumbled, turning quickly.

As he reached the portrait and was climbing out, he heard her voice, soft a few yards behind him: "'Night, Sirius."

The entrance to the common room closed behind him. He stood in the dim corridor for a long moment. Then, his voice barely above a choked whisper, it cut the silence.

"'Night, 'Mione."

** TBC.

**

A/N: School's started (God help me), so forgive me for any delay in updating! Anyway, please review this chapter; the next one is titled 'Making the Choice' and will be up soon . . . thanks for all the feedback so far; I'm looking forward to more!