"Professor Dumbledore," said Harry, catching the Headmaster in the after-
dinner rush just outside the Great Hall.
"Yes, Harry?"
"There's something I need to tell you."
Dumbledore nodded and turned to the left, Harry directly behind. Soon they had reached the gargoyle that guarded Dumbledore's office.
"Socks," said Dumbledore clearly, and the gargoyle sprang aside. Harry looked up at Dumbledore, puzzled.
"Socks, sir?" he asked.
"Socks," said Dumbledore firmly, and led the way to his inner sanctum. Dumbledore settled himself behind his desk and Harry eased gingerly into a chair.
Without preamble Harry detailed the whole incident at the Weasley's house. Dumbledore propped his head on his hands and listened attentively, his spectacles twinkling in the firelight. When Harry was finished, he nodded slowly.
"Yes, I think that is quite reasonable to expect."
Harry hesitated, then plunged ahead. "It isn't just that, sir." Dumbledore raised his brows in inquiry.
"I think," said Harry, blushing a little, "I think I can - er- see Erin's dreams."
"When was the last time this occurred?"
"Last night, sir."
"Can you describe her dream?"
"She was with Quirrell, sir. They were in the forest, and Quirrell told her to just be patient." Harry frowned. "There were some unicorns in there too. I remember Wind-Runner, but the others didn't look familiar."
"Did they speak to you?"
"Quirrell and Erin didn't, but one of the unicorns sort of drew me aside and talked to me a bit. I can't remember exactly what she said, but it was something about staying close to Erin." Harry frowned in his effort at remembering. "Something about 'great heights'." He grinned apologetically. "I'm sorry. I can't really remember anything else, except that the unicorn had really beautiful purple eyes."
"Is it you impression that Erin knew you were there?"
"No, I don't think she did."
"Did Quirrell?"
"No." Harry asked quickly, "Do they dream of each other a lot?"
"They often communicate with dreams, yes."
"Does this mean I'll see every one?"
Dumbledore did not answer immediately. "I'm afraid I do not know, Harry. It is my impression, however, that the unicorn you spoke to deliberately pulled you deeper into the dream than you would have normally gone."
"I don't understand, sir."
"You would have remained a bystander, unable to take part in the dream, had not the unicorn spoken to you." Dumbledore leaned forward. "I think, Harry, that you and Erin have been sharing dreams for quite some time. You simply don't remember them when you wake up."
"Oh," said Harry. He seemed at a loss.
"Talk to her," said Dumbledore. "Every morning, try as hard as you can to remember any dreams you had, and then compare them with her. You might be surprised."
"Yes, sir."
"Off you go, Harry."
*~*~*~*~
Severus stared at the scrap of parchment in front of him. It was small and ragged, but the well-formed script upon it was clear.
'Street-rat', it read.
Severus made a motion as if to crumble the message, then jerked his hand away. He knew all too well whose handwriting it was, and what the writer meant by it. Morosely Severus got up and paced about his office. He didn't want to have to deal with old enemies, not now. He'd even begun to hope that the cautious peace, which had been prevalent ever since the writer's son had come to Hogwarts, could last indefinitely.
He'd been far too optimistic.
Severus tossed his thick hair away from his face in his characteristic gesture. What he needed was an ally. Avery was gone, and Quirrell, whom Severus would have been reluctant to befriend anyway, had vanished. His glance fell back on the parchment, and a slow smile twitched at the corners of his mouth.
If he was going to be named a street-rat, then he might as well use his street-rat sources.
There was someone he could rely on, and she was only a short distance away.
***message from the author***
Hee hee, evil cliff-hanger! Sorry this one took so long to get up, but I had a crazy weekend. Don't worry, I'll try to get the next one up soon. It'll be fun!
"Yes, Harry?"
"There's something I need to tell you."
Dumbledore nodded and turned to the left, Harry directly behind. Soon they had reached the gargoyle that guarded Dumbledore's office.
"Socks," said Dumbledore clearly, and the gargoyle sprang aside. Harry looked up at Dumbledore, puzzled.
"Socks, sir?" he asked.
"Socks," said Dumbledore firmly, and led the way to his inner sanctum. Dumbledore settled himself behind his desk and Harry eased gingerly into a chair.
Without preamble Harry detailed the whole incident at the Weasley's house. Dumbledore propped his head on his hands and listened attentively, his spectacles twinkling in the firelight. When Harry was finished, he nodded slowly.
"Yes, I think that is quite reasonable to expect."
Harry hesitated, then plunged ahead. "It isn't just that, sir." Dumbledore raised his brows in inquiry.
"I think," said Harry, blushing a little, "I think I can - er- see Erin's dreams."
"When was the last time this occurred?"
"Last night, sir."
"Can you describe her dream?"
"She was with Quirrell, sir. They were in the forest, and Quirrell told her to just be patient." Harry frowned. "There were some unicorns in there too. I remember Wind-Runner, but the others didn't look familiar."
"Did they speak to you?"
"Quirrell and Erin didn't, but one of the unicorns sort of drew me aside and talked to me a bit. I can't remember exactly what she said, but it was something about staying close to Erin." Harry frowned in his effort at remembering. "Something about 'great heights'." He grinned apologetically. "I'm sorry. I can't really remember anything else, except that the unicorn had really beautiful purple eyes."
"Is it you impression that Erin knew you were there?"
"No, I don't think she did."
"Did Quirrell?"
"No." Harry asked quickly, "Do they dream of each other a lot?"
"They often communicate with dreams, yes."
"Does this mean I'll see every one?"
Dumbledore did not answer immediately. "I'm afraid I do not know, Harry. It is my impression, however, that the unicorn you spoke to deliberately pulled you deeper into the dream than you would have normally gone."
"I don't understand, sir."
"You would have remained a bystander, unable to take part in the dream, had not the unicorn spoken to you." Dumbledore leaned forward. "I think, Harry, that you and Erin have been sharing dreams for quite some time. You simply don't remember them when you wake up."
"Oh," said Harry. He seemed at a loss.
"Talk to her," said Dumbledore. "Every morning, try as hard as you can to remember any dreams you had, and then compare them with her. You might be surprised."
"Yes, sir."
"Off you go, Harry."
*~*~*~*~
Severus stared at the scrap of parchment in front of him. It was small and ragged, but the well-formed script upon it was clear.
'Street-rat', it read.
Severus made a motion as if to crumble the message, then jerked his hand away. He knew all too well whose handwriting it was, and what the writer meant by it. Morosely Severus got up and paced about his office. He didn't want to have to deal with old enemies, not now. He'd even begun to hope that the cautious peace, which had been prevalent ever since the writer's son had come to Hogwarts, could last indefinitely.
He'd been far too optimistic.
Severus tossed his thick hair away from his face in his characteristic gesture. What he needed was an ally. Avery was gone, and Quirrell, whom Severus would have been reluctant to befriend anyway, had vanished. His glance fell back on the parchment, and a slow smile twitched at the corners of his mouth.
If he was going to be named a street-rat, then he might as well use his street-rat sources.
There was someone he could rely on, and she was only a short distance away.
***message from the author***
Hee hee, evil cliff-hanger! Sorry this one took so long to get up, but I had a crazy weekend. Don't worry, I'll try to get the next one up soon. It'll be fun!