A/N- Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed. Your feedback is greatly appreciated. I hope to get a lot more with this update. Sorry for the slow updates the last few weeks as a high schooler took their toll with work and graduation…argh…at least its over.
Disclaimer…I own nothin except for the story line
The three young Gryffindors slept in late after their early morning adventures in the common room. For two of them, what should be peaceful sleep, was not. Hermione's dreams were unpleasant ones filled with frightful images and painful memories of her dear grandfather. She woke in terror, tears making their wet trails down her cheeks. Feeling scared, guilty and disoriented, Hermione clutched her knees close and let the tears continue. Eventually she rose from her warm place before the fire and hauled herself up the stairs to her own bed; however, true sleep did not reach her the rest of the morning, her mind moving too fast to let her sleep. Harry on the other hand never slept at all partly because Ron's snores could wake the dead and partly because he was worried for Hermione. What is she hiding? There must be something she isn't telling me. I would help if only I knew what was wrong. Thoughts raced through his mind, thoughts about Hermione, thoughts about the letters given to her, thoughts even about the people he had loss, perhaps his losses could help him understand what she might be going through. After hours of tossing and turning, Harry rose from his four poster bed and walked to the curtained window box. Huddling up against the window, Harry closed the curtains behind him and watched through the window as the sun rose in its full glory.
It was half past nine when the trio joined in the Great Hall for breakfast. Ron looked up from his newly filled plate just long enough to notice his two half-comatose friends sitting just across the table.
"Are you guys alright? You look a bit worse for wear."
"Yes"…"No" Harry and Hermione replied at the same time. Hermione shot him a glare for responding 'no'. Ron looked thoroughly confused.
"I am just fine." Hermione answered shortly.
"You sure? You seemed pretty upset last night. I was worried about you." Ron asked in a soft loving tone. A ball of jealousy began to form in Harry's stomach. What am I thinking? He is her best friend too. He is allowed to worry. For God's sake Potter, pull it together! Harry suddenly found his food very interesting even though he hadn't touched a bit of it since he sat down.
"I'm fine!" Hermione stated back with an edge to her voice. Both boys looked at her in shock at her tone. Something is seriously wrong. They both thought. Without warning, Hermione threw down her fork and pushed up from the table.
"I'm not hungry. I'm gonna go do…something" She hastily retreated from the Great Hall, leaving two young men staring after here. After several moments Ron spoke up.
"Now what in the bloody hell is going on with her?" Harry just shook his head sorrowfully and returned to picking at his food with out saying a word about what she had said last night.
Meanwhile….
Hermione started out for the library, looking to drown herself in a good book that could keep her mind off of what it seemed to be resting on since last night. Her eyes wet with tears she moved as fast as she could without running down the almost deserted corridors. Keeping her head down to hide her tears, she ran full on into none other than Professor Dumbledore. She fell with a thud onto the ground.
"Well, now, Ms. Granger. I didn't see you coming. Are you alright dear?" She rubbed her posterior gently as he helped her to her feet. She didn't know what to say, quickly wiping the tears from her eyes.
"Um…professor…I'm sorry…I was uh heading to the library…yea that's right. I wasn't paying attention; I was thinking what new books I could check out." She looked up hoping he would accept her lie as truth. However, his tiny smile and playful gleam told her otherwise.
"Ms. Granger, the library is the other way." She glanced around quickly in shock registering that she had somehow managed to walk all the way into the far wing. Hermione opened and closed her mouth rather quickly searching for a decent excuse but upon failing to come up with anything decent she gave in.
"Ok, I admit I wasn't headed anywhere in particular. I was just walking and I got preoccupied with my thoughts." The tears stung at the corners of her eyes once more. Plopping somewhat gracefully onto the corridor floor she sighed heavily in defeat.
"Now Hermione, what could possibly be troubling your young mind so much?" She looked up into his old features that radiated comfort and fatherly love but she didn't feel ready to talk much about her grandfather. She shook her head and passed her problems off as nothing. Not surprisingly, Dumbledore failed to fall for that excuse either. "Why don't we have some tea in my office and we will see what we can do about your problems, hm?" The young girl nodded and rose to her feet, silently following the kind old man to his office. Harry had spoken of the marvel that is Dumbledore's office but Hermione had never really had the chance to examine it. She couldn't remember ever having been in it. Once inside, he offered her a chair while he tapped the kettle on his desk with his wand, muttering an incantation that would cause the water within to boil. They sat in silence sipping their tea. Dumbledore watched her intently as her eyes roamed over every inch of his office, desperately avoiding his own eyes. She jumped slightly as he called her name, appearing almost as if she had forgotten he was in the room.
"Ms. Granger, you obviously seem upset, and for something to distract a mind like yours enough for you to not notice me headed your way, it must be pretty big." His soft eyes held a knowing glint. She turned her gaze down to her cup of tea resting lightly on her lap. She didn't even know how to start. Feelings of guilt, anger and loss boiled up inside of her as she mulled over everything searching for a place to begin. The strongest emotion flowing through her very soul was guilt. Dumbledore could sense it seeping out of her every pore. His eyebrows scrunched a little in wonderment. Since she seemed unable to begin he started for her.
"What, Ms. Granger, seems to be making you feel so guilty?" He placed his cup onto the polished desktop as she looked up at him in amazement.
"H-how did you…" He laughed a little and smiled warmly at her.
"That would be one of my well kept secrets. You see I have a talent known as empathic abilities. I can sense a person's emotions when they allow me to or they are feeling something particularly strongly. I can sense your guilt but what my dear is causing this. I have never been able to sense this before from you." Her mouth formed and o as she took in his words. I guess there is no hiding from this man. She pulled the two letters she had received from her robes and handed them to her professor.
"These came along with some presents from my parents this morning. One of the presents was my grandfather's guitar." He took his time reading them, pausing to think over the one from her grandfather.
"Wise words. But why do you feel guilty?" She rose from her chair unable to sit still and speak about this sensitive subject.
"When I was younger, before Hogwarts, I would go to my grandparents and he and I would play guitar for hours. I loved it so much cause I was good at it, as was he. It was like, well, magic, to be honest. I begged my mother for real lessons, unable to get enough of the beautiful sounds that it made. I really didn't have many friends in regular muggle school so it was my safe haven. My grandfather was my best friend. I don't know maybe I loved spending time with him rather than playing the guitar, anyway, it came time for my big recital and he promised to drive me to it. He said he could never imagine missing me playing. He said he saw so much of himself in me and he believed in my gift so much. ON the way to my house though he got in a car accident and was killed. He never made it to my house or my recital. I didn't find out until after I had played. Angered had fueled my playing during the recital but once I heard that he had been killed on the way to pick me up, guilt replaced all of that." By now the tears were flowing freely and she wrung her hands together desperately as if that pain would take away from everything else she was feeling. "I blamed myself for his death…I still do. I haven't touched a guitar or any musical instrument since then and he died when I was 8. I read his letter and couldn't help but think he wouldn't feel the same way knowing that I had essentially killed him." She collapsed seemingly exhausted into her chair. Surprisingly she felt a little better after getting her feelings off her chest. Hermione had never really told the whole story to anyone.
"My dear child, you did not kill your grandfather. Accidents happen as they say, nothing not even magic can stop accidents." She rolled her eyes tired of hearing the same thing from him as she has heard from everyone else. "Now hear me out, life is full of loss but out of loss can come overwhelming joy. The bad is there for a reason. You just have to find that reason. Your grandfather was very wise to believe in your gift. I understand you feel guilty but don't let it rule you. Humans and witches alike are very prone to letting their feelings get the best of them when they should be strong and look to the future. He believed in someone great just as you believe in Harry and Ron. Would you want them to leave behind their gifts if you died trying to better them?" She said nothing, patiently mulling over his words. "Honor his memory Hermione. Use your gift and become the greatness your grandfather knew you had in you. You never know the true reason for you talent unless you let it into your life." She nodded and rose from her seat muttering her thank-yous as she headed for the exit. She stopped to pet Fawkes, marveling in the beauty that is a phoenix.
"She really is beautiful professor."
"That she is. You and your friend Mr. Potter seem to have a common affinity for that bird." She could feel his smile and a blush crept into her cheeks at the mention of Harry's name. "Perhaps you should share your feelings with him. He has dealt with much loss in his short life. Maybe he could provide you with strength for once as you have given to him many times." She nodded again, trying to hide her blush.
"I will, thank you for the suggestion Professor." She headed out, back down the staircase and towards her dorm. Dumbledore remained in his office enjoying the rest of his tea, amused over the state of his pupils. Ha those two…the ever oblivious ones. He chuckled and smiled as he took one final sip of his tea.
