A/N: To BeholdtheVoid: I haven't read Belgarath the Sorcerer! And you shouldn't be givin away stuff like that! GRR...but whatever. I can't complain. I guess I'll just have to find a way to amend that time concept somehow. Thanks for pointing it out though.

Thanks to lolo12red- For putting me on her faves.

To answer many questions especially IrishPhoenix's: Yes. It IS H/Hr. And MelladeRanged: Yes. Ew. I didn't like that last part either, with Harry and Ginny on that date, they just did it on their own, I swear it. Yes he is leading her on, and I do say, that he'll only get more and more sinister as he goes along with that idiocy he insists on playing out. But on Harry's defense: He really doesn't know that it's evil yet because he's doing it impulsively, to somehow try to make Hermione jealous, and he is sort of a twit in regards to the opposite sex, so forgive him, yes? It'll turn out quite well in the end.

And excuse me if Hermione's a little OOC here, coz this is my first H/Hr.

And R/L shippers: please don't be disappointed if I don't put them together. I need Luna for other things. and N/G (if anyone does support it--it does look kind of odd, doesn't it?): I'll tell you now, it won't be happening. But nothing's definite. If the characters want it, I guess I'll have to go long with that, so don't lose hope.

For the past 'bout three or four days, I've been talking (mentally) in that Pirate brogue. Didn't O.B. rock in Pirates Of The Caribbean? But I must confess: I found I liked Johnny Depp a lil better (castigate my betraying heart). Put it in y'all'ses reviews if you're with me! ^.^

Speaking of them things: Thank you all for the positive feedback, (LadyLightning, ZeroEnder, shdurrani, David M.Potter especially) and I've never gotten so many reviews in a day (twelve!) So erm...uh-huh. *nods*. Read on.


"Two months?!" Neville complained.

"Hush dear," his grandmother said sternly.

"If I may interrupt, Mrs. Longbottom," said Hermione, "Dumbledore will be back really soon. By the end of the week most likely, so there's not much need to worry."

"I know dear, that isn't why Neville is leaving." A flicker of curiosity graced her face momentarily. "His uncle's funeral."

Hermione's mouth widened to a tiny o, catching herself, she nodded.

"It's all right, Armoire--was it?"

"Hermione, madam," she corrected in a small voice.

"Armione, right."

"I'M NOT GOING! Bad enough that I missed the Halloween Feast already, I'd have to miss Christmas too! Not to mention Quidditch season!" Neville said, eyes flashing.

"You ARE going. Now gather your things. I want you to be in the Headmaster's Office in ten minutes, else I'll make sure you are, Got it?" Neville stared bravely at her for a few minutes, then sighed, casting his eyes downward.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Now er...Ar-Er-Harmony--"

"Hermione, Mrs. Longbottom."

"Yes, Hermiry, I want you to tell that boy Harry to keep his chin up, ai? Poor child, however he's gettin along without Lily and James I'll never know. You do know Harry Potter? The one with the scar on his forehead?"

"Yes, Of course."

"It's the exact likeness of a lightning bolt, d'you know, saw'r it meself." she said in a conspiratorial whisper.

"I know."

"And he can do a perfect Patronus!" she wagged her finger in Hermione's face.

"I know, Mrs. Longbottom, he himself taught me the spell." And that seemed to please the Old Lady.

"Really?'

"Yes. He taught a lot of people. Mine takes the shape of an otter."

"That boys shows some promise. Bury me if he won't be the greatest wizard in the world someday. He'll follow in the footsteps of Dumbledore, mark my words," she told Hermione, seemingly disregarding the confession that she herself could produce a corporeal Patronus, not unlike Harry's.

"I'll be sure to convey your regards, Mrs. Longbottom," said Hermione.

"And get to know him a little better, will you? Neville here is one of his best friends." She waved her wrinkled hand in the general direction of Neville standing next to her with all his things and a disgruntled expression on her face.

"Gran, that's Hermione Granger, she's his closest friend!" he said.

"What did I tell you, Neville? Go to Dumbledore's office now, before I have to drag you there myself by the ear. Do you really want me to embarrass you in front of this pretty girl?" she said, and Hermione giggled.

"No, Gran," Neville admitted resignedly.

"Bye Neville!" said a familiar voice from the staircase.

"Harry!"

"Oh hello, dear boy," Mrs. Longbottom said. "Excuse me, if you will children, I have to go make sure my grandson doesn't get lost." Harry came down the stairs and went to his favorite chair in front of the fireplace.

"Poor Neville, eh?" he said to Hermione, who took the seat next to him.

"Yeah," she replied, staring into the ever-crackling fire, "When d'you reckon Dumbledore'll be back?"

"I--" he stopped suddenly, and took in a deep breath, frowning. "Do-erm-Does Ron really hate me?"

Hermione turned her startled eyes to him. She sighed.

"No, he doesn't."

"Do you?"

She gaped at him for a bit.

"Of-OF course not!" she stuttered, clearly taken aback.

"You do," Harry accused, "And I don't even know why!"

"I don't hate you!" she asserted.

"Yes, you do. And I already said sorry for asking you to the Island with me, and you don't have to come, what else do you expect?"

"Harry!" she said, "I-Don't-Hate-You."

"You do. You said so."

"When?"

"At Breakfast that day."

"Harry! You're having me keep things from my boyfriend, and you automatically promised my dead soul to some old man who lives on an island, isolated from civilization. I quite like my civilization, even if I'm dead, living in it."

"Hermione that makes no sense!"

"Yes it does, and you'd be upset too if you were going to spend your entire lifetime with someone you love, and they didn't even ask you first. It's the sort of thing that's really special to a girl."

"I said you didn't have to, so why are you stressing this, Hermione?"

"But I want to!"

"What?!" And Harry had no more to say, being so shocked by her proposal as he were.

"I want to."

"What about Ron?"

"Sod Ron. I don't love him, and he doesn't love me."

"But you--I--you said I--you were talking--yesterday, I heard you--but I..."

"Yeah, we broke up yesterday. For Good." she smiled so happily that Harry instantly bent his head, closing in the space between them, and kissed her. But a few seconds after their soft lips crashed together, Harry felt immensely guilty. Guilty? Why...he couldn't quite remember.

"Oh no," he murmured against her cheek, pulling away, "I can't."

"Er...what?" Hermione whispered.

"I asked Ginny out."

"WHAT?!" Harry stifled a small grin at her reaction.

"You were never this jealous when I was with Cho," he remarked coyly. Hermione's eyes narrowed.

"I never had any reason to be."

"Yes you did."

"No I didn't, now what did you say about Ginny?" she said quickly changing the subject.

"I asked her to come to Hogsmeade with me."

"Why?"

"Well, she said she'd liked me, and I said I liked her, and it just...seemed right at the time--"

"SEEMED right?" she retorted, "You said you liked her?"

"Yes. And I do." Her face fell, and instantly Harry amended, "But I felt really bad right after because she's a great person and, well, I couldn't get you out of my mind, and that's the real reason I asked her."

"Oh, you idiot," Hermione said, but the prideful little smile on her face contradicted her words. She whimsically pulled him to her over the armrest and held his face at the crook of her neck. Harry, genuinely puzzled (though immensely pleased at the affectionate gesture), hugged her back.

"So what do I do, then?" he asked, nervous.

"Well..."

"I can't let her down, because then I'd have to explain why I don't like her."

"And she has fancied you for ages, now--" Hermione added.

"She already thinks she's not good enough for me."

"Really! I'll have to talk to that girl about that!"

"And Ron'll be angry enough."

"Don't worry about Ron."

"But I just can't tell her I'm in love with you, Hermione. I just can't! I think she suspects already!"

"You're in love with me?"

"Er...I thought we just cleared that up."

"Harry, you don't tell a girl you love her so quickly. It takes time. You have to get to know her first then--"

"But...oh whatever. I don't care about all that. Just tell me what to do, eh?"

"Why? You put yourself in this mess," she replied.

"Well, you're the reason for it."

"So?"

"I suppose you're going to have to let her down really, really easily. Go out with her for a couple of dates, then give her the old, 'you're like a sister to me' excuse."

"That's evil!"

"Yea, but it works, I've done it with a few boys myself."

"A few boys? How many have you dated?"

"I do my best, Harry, and as you two always assumed I was studying in the library, it didn't really hurt when I snuck out a few times."

"Yeah, right, you'd skive off homework for boys, and then Voldemort and I'll turn 'round and be best chums, eh?"

"Oh fine! It was two dates with that cute Seventh Year Hufflepuff--Jack Melon, and a muggle guy-a twenty year-old that did the plumbing at the house over the summer, ok?" She glared at Harry, whose shoulders were shaking as he tried to suppress his laughter.

"Jack Melon? Hermione-that bloke has enough brains to fill a teaspoon! Dobby's smarter than that useless looker!"

"Harry! Don't insult Dobby like that!" Hermione said, then realizing what she'd said, joined in his laughter.

When they'd both calmed down relatively, they resorted to looking in the fire again. The raging blizzard that had begun three mornings earlier blew on, and Harry and Hermione were lost in thought, yet alone in the Common Room whereas all the rest of the students were tired of the monotony of the company of their own house-mates, and possibly lounging in the hallways or empty classrooms.

"I wonder why Tonks stayed at school."

"I dunno," replied Harry, "maybe to stand as lookout."

"Yea."

"I had a dream that night...that...I didn't tell anyone about it."

"About?" Harry regarded Hermione's alarmed face, censuring his words properly so that he didn't distress her.

"It was--Hermione don't be angry alright--It was Charlie..."

"What?"

"The person--"

"I know--but are you sure? I mean, it can't be, how can he..."

"There's worse."

"What can be--?"

"Ok. I've been having the same dream, alright, with this stream, with dead people's eyes and limbs at the bottom," noticing her grimace, "I know, I don't like it much, but I think Voldemort finds it soothing, and I do too, because he does, you know?" she nodded, "And I'm walking on people's faces. People I know."

"Awful!" she exclaimed.

"But I keep walking, like it's just the way things are, and then the sun is setting, and far away, I can see shadows. I see you, then I see Voldemort in front of you. You're holding a bundle in your hand, and after that it's almost like the night my parents died."

"How?" she said, perplexed still.

"Well--I don't know if I'm supposed to tell you, but..." he took a calming breath, "You have my baby in your hands, and you're telling him to take you instead, then Voldemort says that he's not going to take any chances this time, and then you die--and then the baby cried, and I felt like I was going to die! Hermione, I never want it to end that way!"

"But where were you? You were the baby? Or if the baby was yours, then you were dead?"

"I'm not sure, but I think I'd rather die than let that baby go. He was so little--and you--you looked so scared!" Harry suddenly felt immeasurably embarrassed. He was reduced to such an emotional state as to cry over dreams. "I'm sorry," he told her. But Hermione was deeply engrossed in thought. Her brows were furrowed as she bit her lip.

"Harry, that could be a premonition, but considering last year, I think it maybe just Voldemort trying to scare you into the same thing you're doing now."

"I never considered that." And after a pause, he said again. "But I still couldn't take the chance if there was ever a possibility."

"No. You have to defeat Voldemort. Don't you see that you're the only one you can? And its not only about you--think about all those people he and his Death Eaters are killing! Think about Charlie. If that really were your baby, then imagine--Molly is going through the same thing you're trying to avoid. Would you want to wish that upon her?"

"No."

"Then you will defeat Voldemort. To me, the Prophecy just seems like a really good opportunity to avenge your parents. And me," she added, as an afterthought.

"You won't die." She gave a sad smile.

"I will."

"You won't."

"Alright, then."

"Hermione, you're not going to die."

"You know what I think we should do? Dumbledore said you could use the Pensieve, right? I say we go up there right now, and analyze this dream of yours."

"Ok. But you're still not dying." They stood up and filed out of the Portrait Hole.

"Hey, do you realize this means we'll get married in the near future?"

"But you just said that it was Voldemort's illusion."

"Or a premonition."

They went up to the office, empty of even Fawkes. Florean greeted Harry with a smile, and he noticed that Phineas Nigellus, as well as many of the portraits around the walls were empty.

"Hello," said Hermione sweetly in her teacher-reserved tone to the few Headmasters that were awake. Harry pulled out the Pensieve from the cabinet which Dumbledore had left open, trying to keep his eyes from straying to the other interesting gadgets stored in it. Who knew what havoc one could wreak with them anyway? He placed the bowl on the table.

"Alright, I'll put in my dream, I'm not quite sure how to use it--but," he stuck his wand to his head, thinking of the dream, and mimicking what he'd seen Dumbledore and Snape do, "and then you just lean close there," he deposited the black thought into the Pensieve and pointed his wand at the surface of the bowl. Hermione obediently leaned in, and he saw her form being pulled in. "I'm not sure if I can get in though."

Hermione ran out, tripping over her own feet, and falling on the floor, clutching her stomach. She threw up on the floor, retching painfully so that Harry turned his face away, as he reluctantly rubbed her back.

"Disposelo," she said, and the bile on the ground vanished. She stood up, as Harry rushed to steady her.

"Water?" he asked, and a jug appeared in the air, filling a glass then moving towards her. She gulped eagerly.

"Harry, that was horrible!"

"I know."

"I don't want to ever discuss this again; let's go, alright?" And Harry was more than happy to oblige.