Disclaimer: Dare I say that the plot is mine?

Author's Note: I'm truly sorry for the delay. I just needed to get some things done on my other stories and had a fuzzy writing void for this story. Don't worry, from now on I'll try to update at least every two weeks or sooner. Thanks for the great reviews---I got nine. Way more than what I expected! Yay!

Talk-Back: Duct tape makes the world go 'round.

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Those who do not plan for the future have to live through it anyway

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A hazed and traumatized Hermione trudged her way through students that swarmed the Great Hall, making her way towards the Gryffindor Table with a little more shoving than necessary.

Harry, who was up early, was devouring his toast and reading the Daily Prophet when the disgruntled girl slammed down on a chair with a little more gusto than evoked for in the early hours of the morning.

"Good morning, Hermione. Did you have a squabble with Ron already?" His brilliant green eyes looked up for a mere second, and Hermione disliked his ambiguous gaze under the circumstances. She was in no joking mood. And what about Ron!? Where did he get that supercilious idea? Argh…

"No, we did not." She bit back tersely, though not to Harry's surprise. Hermione tended to be…er, rather irascible in the mornings; With homework and Ron, and grades and Ron, and Voldemort and Ron. Yeah, with Ron.

Harry swallowed a large mouthful of orange juice and stared at her, silently from across the table. It was unnerving for Hermione, who tried to look anywhere but at him. Did he even know that he was looking at her? Does he have any idea how…scrutinizing he looks? Should I…tell him what happened?

It was that thought that brought Hermione back to present, crashing . That, and the fact that Ron had just sat down next to Harry, with laudable tries to catch her attention in the most ridiculous ways. But she was already thinking; lost in the labyrinthine world of her mind.

'It was just a silly dream, Hermione.' She assured herself mentally, forking some eggs onto her breakfast plate, 'the result of prior late nights---you finally went to bed early and slept until a reasonable hour. Nothing to antagonize yourself over, a dream, you see.'

*

It tweaked her, and the thought was always there. All throughout the day, Hermione couldn't shake off the fact---no the surmise, that it wasn't some dream or hallucination.

* Flashback *

" The day that the sun rises as blood is the day of your fall. Discover everything about yourself, or discover nothing at all.

In a week as of tomorrow your life will slip out your hands. You will no longer be among the living. You won't live to see the full red sun. The first day will be a warning of what is to come. It is your fate, it is your destiny, and it is final. "

* End of Flashback *

"A week, huh?" Hermione breathed out, her breath tickling her hair and lifting a few errant strands up. She replayed the haunting words and fuzzy images over again in her mind for the thousandth time that hour. This could not be healthy.

"Hey…'Mione? " As soft voice provoked her back to reality. A soft, gentle voice.

"Ron?" She gasped quietly, then, her hands flew to her mouth and a blush formed. It wasn't her freckled crush; it was Harry. And she was daydreaming in Potions---which Ron did not even have, mind you; and they were…what were they supposed to be doing?

"I'm—I---sorry. Harry, what was the Professor talking about?" She whispered in a rush over the pewter cauldron that separated them. Needless to say, she was rather surprised at what was across from her; a cold gaze, through darkening green eyes. It disappeared as quickly as it came, but there was still some bitterness lingering in his voice.

"Yeah. Hi. I'm Harry." He noisily passed her a scrap of piece of parchment he had scrawled notes about truth drought to the third level. Too noisely.

"Potter. Stop helping Miss Granger. If she cares to daydream about Weasley in my class, than she may fail. Granger, one would expect better from a Prefect in an advanced class," Snape, who had suddenly appeared behind the two like the bat he was, snarled into a sardonic smile, "15 points from Gryffindor. Back to work, or to your Head House. I won't have you waste my time." The potions master sneered, though you could detect a somewhat gleeful element in his tone. Serves Granger right for flattening him in the hall.

*

Hermione turned and strode through the twisted halls of Hogwarts third floor, having not the slightest idea where she was going; she only knew where she wanted to end up.

Pressing a slim hand to her forehead, almost as if willing it to be feverish, she made a quick right at the carpet scorch and flung open the Pelican painting; it beat it's wings angrily and she ignored it, already streaming down a dimly lit passage.

The lucid dream that was not so distant reality, Harry's evasive stare; hell, even Ron was acting weird. More clumsy, less chatty. She needed peace, taciturn, someplace where she could gain introspective on her exacting life; love, fate, anything. She was so confused.

That's why she needed to go to the clear room, as she called it. What else should you call a room that was made and adorned with beautiful, crystal clear, sturdy glass? Hermione, if she had to guess, would say that once upon a time, it housed a special plant.

The tiny room in the far left wing of the deserted third floor, had a comprehensive scope of the back gardens, and the sunlight filtered in through the intangible glass. Perhaps even diamond; it was very solid and strong.

As she rushed with impatience that the clever witch believed she never possessed within her, it was then that a sense of change washed over her, and she slowed her jog to an unsteady walk.

Up ahead, where the end of the corridor normally got brighter due to the wistful beams of light shooting through the clear material and reflecting off the walls, there was darkness. Not peremptory darkness, like the kind that swallows you whole, but a dimness. Hermione stopped her walk completely.

For what seemed like hours, she stood there; pointblank. Maybe it was because she was having one of those 'off days,' or perhaps it was the increasing sense of paranoia due to factious mysteries that consumed the castle all the time, Voldemort or not.

"Don't be a prat, Hermione." She scolded herself quietly, inching foreword. It was now that she could see that there was light up ahead. Not sunlight…er, torchlight?

Extremely frustrated with her sudden shyness, Hermione willed her stubborn feet to just walk, but they remained adamant.

'Just walk! Just walk! A couple steps foreword, tight turn and you're there. You're right there. In your secret sanctuary. '

Willing, though feelings remarkably stupid at the same time, she brought forth all her intrepid feelings, and her useful habbit at scoffing at the irrational and walked four big steps foreword and turned. Then all she could do was stare.

No wonder the sunlight couldn't filter through; the dark, blood red, paint, that was still running down the small closet sized once clear room made it nearly opaque. Awed, that's all she could be. Even her mind could only sputter in bewilderment.

'Who? W—w-what is going on? But---! No one's barely ever on the third floor, let alone this room! I—I-I'

She squelched to the center of the room, the disturbingly dark paint engulfing her shoes to reciprocate the chaos of her footprints. She was most certain it was paint; though it strongly resembled blood in the most repugnant ways.

It was then, that the young witch looked up, and her throat clenched as well as her heart; a futile, black, knot, was eating away her stomach. From her position she could most defiantly make it out. The unmistakable and inexplicable image of an oozing red sun, painted recently. It's rays flowing down the walls, and trickling off to the floor. Covering it, devouring it. The rising red sun.

'The first day will be a warning of what is to come… You won't live to see the full red sun…'

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A/N: AAIIIEEEE! Don't stone me! Cliffie I know, and a lame one at that. Sheesh, I'm so bad at this, I should just quit and put all of us out of misery. If you have any questions, comments, flames, put it in your review. Please do, review!

*Ja and Java Love*

~Murr