When We Try to Deceive...

Chapter Two: Dreaming of You


Author's Note:  Thank you if you reviewed the previous chapter.  If you didn't, review it now!  Thank you to: FawkesRises and margie-bum... but just because you reviewed the last chapter doesn't mean you're off the hook on this one!  Oh, and Bat Girl wishes to thank you for voting for her as Best Carcass Savager or something... she was a very close runner up.  She would tell you herself, but she's currently making a blood smoothie.  And getting it all over the kitchen.  Lovely...


***

"Fred," whispered George, leaning across towards the bed next to him.  His identical twin was fast asleep; dead to the world.  Most people were (not dead- asleep), as it was just after midnight on a chilly February night (or morning, as the case may be).  George was restless, which was why he could not help but remain awake.  He could just about make out the distant calls from the owlery, but outside it was deadly quiet.  The only noise to interrupt the peace was the loud drone coming from across the dormitory.  How George hated people who snored.

"FRED!" he hissed a little louder.  Perhaps it was vaguely unfair to wake up his brother at this hour, when they had Quidditch practice tomorrow morning, but he had other things on his mind.  And when I say other things, I mean one, huge, other thing.  After he had gone to bed, George couldn't stop thinking about that explosion.  In retrospect, George really didn't thing the light was supposed to be blue.  Now that he cast his mind back, he was sure the book had stated purple, clearly.  At first, he'd just assumed that it would make no difference.  Now he was worried.

George just could not stop thinking about a Potions lesson a few months ago, when his class had been ordered to brew up a potion that could reverse the effect of a forgetfulness curse.  Of course, Fred and George had found the whole concept hilarious- how could you remember how to brew the potion if you were under such a spell?  So, instead of working, the Weasley twins had spent the entire lesson messing about and coming up with ideas for their joke shop.  When Snape had wandered around the class at the end of the lesson inspecting cauldrons, he came to a halt next to George.

"This will not work, boys," he said slowly and maliciously under his breath, yet though he was barely audible, Severus Snape had such a presence that the entire room fell silent.  "Obviously, you have added twice as much whitsnade root as you ought."  After giving Fred a particularly evil look, Snape had swept passed the twins' cauldron and their mixture had disappeared completely.  Although he began to move on and scrutinize the other potions, he continued to talk about the Weasley brothers' failure.

"Of course," he whispered, to no one in particular, yet the very fact he was speaking commanded the attention of every student in the class, "it was apparent the potion was wrong, the moment I set eyes on it.  Can you tell me why I knew instantaneously this potion was incorrect?" As Snape's eyes browsed the pupils' faces, a brainy Hufflepuff raised her hand. He raised his eyebrows towards her as a sign for her to answer.

"It was the wrong colour," she had said uncertainly.  Snape gave a nod of approval.

"And what adverse affect will this have on the potion?" he continued, staring at the student intensely.  She went red and began to stammer.  Seeing her fail to answer, Snape moved towards the front of his class and when he reached his desk he turned around and gave the class a malevolent smile.  "The subject matter will change.  You dunderheads of course will not understand what that means.  It does in fact go to say that if you are brewing a potion to stop the heart, and for some reason the colour changes," with one flick of his wand, the entire potion changed from murky brown to turquoise, "the victim of your mixture will remain unscathed and you will die a sudden, painful death."  Seeing the shocked expressions on the pupils' faces, Snape added a last phrase of wisdom.

"A love potion, for example, will not only work on the person you cast the spell... it will also have an intense affect upon yourself.  You may now go to your next lesson."

***

'Oh God,' George thought to himself.  He was, for fear of using a much- coined phrase, in deep shit.

***

"Fred," he heard his brother hiss.  Fred chose to ignore him.  He was having a rather interesting dream, and did not want to be disturbed.  He was walking through the labyrinth of tunnels underlying the school, near to the Potions classrooms (sorry if potions features so heavily- feel free to shout at me if you have nightmares).  Fred ran his fingers along the wall to help him guide his way, and in the process he ended up scraping off a thick layer of gelatinised moss and mould.  Lovely on toast.

He asked himself why he hadn't thought to bring a torch.  (Don't say *duh, it's a dream- you can't take things with you*- I like Fred.  That is reason enough to leave him out of your moronic plague of insults and backlash!  Ahem)  So, he was in the process of asking himself why he hadn't brought a torch.  Well, he wasn't so much asking himself, as in expecting a reply, but he was sort of pondering the fact and going "hmm, sure could have done with some light on the matter".

It was incredibly dark in the corridor and the little light that still remained seemed to be receding rapidly.  He continued to walk through the slimy tunnel until he came to a fork in the route.  While he was debating which path to take, he heard a beautiful voice begin to sing.  The music filled his head and took over his body.  He slowly made his way towards the sound and suddenly a soft blue light swirled around him, enabling him to see a few metres in front.

What he saw made him stop dead, speechless.  There was Hermione Granger, the geeky girl his kid brother had a blatant crush.  Yet she wasn't the swot with bushy hair he remembered.  She was standing with her back to him, singing a beautiful yet melancholy melody.  Hermione was dressed in a long, flowing, and white satin gown.  Her hair was swept back into a silver tiara (not tacky; beautiful.  Repeat after me: BEAUTIFUL) and it looked soft and glossy.

Fred watched her for what seemed like an eternity.  He knew he could stand here forever, watching this elegant beauty and hearing her sad ballad (OTT? ME?).  But it had to end sometime, and Fred decided he would make a better impression upon Hermione if he were to introduce himself now.  He shuffled forward and tentatively cleared his throat.  Hermione spun around instantaneously; looking shocked as her dress swirled around her.  (No, she was not shocked that her dress had turned around with her body.  Honestly.  She was shocked to see Fred there).

However, when she saw who it was, Hermione blushed and smiled shyly.  Fred stepped forwards, and took hold of her hand.  She met his gaze and he whispered to her, caught up in the moment.

"Has anyone ever told you, you sing like an angel?" he asked her, and with that he stepped forward and kissed her sheepishly on the lips, before stepping back and looking at her, his large green eyes desperately trying to figure out what she was thinking.  And before you ask (and I know a certain sheep-obsessed person will) he did not kiss her like a sheep.  He kissed her hesitantly.

One moment Fred was still staring at Hermione desperately, the next moment Hermione had leant forward into Fred and was kissing him again, her hand up on his face.

***

Fred sighed and rolled over in his sleep.  He was in ecstasy.  From the next bed, George saw the expression on his twin's face and groaned.  This was going to be an unbelievable mixed up day.  And George was right.  But just how mixed up the day was going to be, even Dumbledore did not know (don't ask me what Dumbledore's got to do with it, but he's smart, right?).  All George knew was that Fred was having a romantic delusion about a girl.  Little did he know, at that very moment, both Fred and Ron were having the exact same dream.  Oh dear.  As my mother tends to recite like a parrot, it can only end in tears.

***

Now please, please, please, pretty please review!!!  I'm begging you (practically)!  PLEASE!  Here, if you're too lazy to even write your own review just copy and paste the following: " I, [insert name here], feel that this is an excellent start to a Fanfic.  It is a good idea and nicely written on the whole, although you could try to improve your range of verbs a little.  Try using a thesaurus.  If you do not update very soon I may kill myself.  It's not a promise, it's a threat.  If I do please feel free to give the blood to Bat Girl.  Whatever; just update!  I shall now proceed to add this story to my favourites... Buh bye xx"