Author's Note: I have most the main plot of this story already written out but the events are so scattered that I felt it needed a subplot to help it move from point to point. That's about the time my muse hit the road to Vegas. I'm sorry if this is a little⦠dull. I'm trying to get back into the swing of things. It also unbetaed, so forgive any mistakes you may find.
Thank you so much to those people who reviewed, especially coconut-ice agent h/h. I had been considering not finishing, but as long as at least one person's interested⦠So everyone, please review. *g*
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"Harry!"
Harry opened his eyes. The world blurred in dizzying colors around him. Out of habit, he groped blindly to his right for his glasses. Finding them, he put them on then cautiously opened his eyes.
The first thing he noticed was Hagrid's big, scraggly face above his, looking as if he was about to bawl any moment. The second was Dumbledore's white hair, beard, and half moon spectacles over which peered bright blue eyes that, for some reason, weren't sparkling.
Harry carefully sat up and glanced around him. He was in the hospital wing. Hermione and Ron were sitting on a neighboring bed, trying to do their best to be out of the way of Madam Pomfrey and still be at hand in case Harry needed them.
"What happened?" he asked.
Everyone seemed to let out a collective trembling breath and Hagrid rocked back onto the bed to his left. Dumbledore stepped forward.
"What is the last thing you recall, Harry?" he asked.
Harry frowned, thinking. "I was talking to this woman in a tent." Everyone started, staring at him. "What?" he asked, his frown deepening.
Dumbledore turned to Hermione and Ron. "Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger, as you can Mr. Potter will be just fine. I believe its time you went off to your next class."
Ron's mouth fell open as he and Hermione stared at the headmaster in disbelief, then they both started speaking at once. "You call that okay-"
"But sir, we want to help-"
"Quickly now," Dumbledore cut in. "You don't want to be late."
Ron and Hermione continued to voice their objections as Madame Pomfrey shooed them out. A great snuffling turned Harry's attention to the half-giant beside him. Hagrid looked terribly upset, tears streaking down his cheeks to disappear in his scraggly beard.
"I'm sorry, Harry. I shouldna let ye anywhere near such a dangerous snake." Then, much to Harry's consternation, Hagrid began bawling like a wounded hound. Harry's eyes widened.
"Er, its okay, Hagrid. It's not your fault. It's not even the snake's fault. Malfoy was the one who bumped into me."
"Ah, yes. Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore said. "I assure you he will be dealt with later. But, for now I would like to speak to Harry about what happened."
"Of course, Dumbledore, sir," Hagrid said, wiping his eyes with the back of his sleeve as he stood. "I'll just go and take care of that naga." He turned and walked out of the hospital wing.
Harry turned back to Dumbledore. The headmaster sat on the edge of the bed, watching Harry. The younger wizard shifted under the scrutiny. "So you remember what happened in class, then?" Dumbledore asked.
Harry nodded. "I was petting the naga when Malfoy shoved me into the crate. The naga bit me in pain because I accidentally poked it in the eye." Harry's eyes slid down to his bandaged wrist.
"And what of this woman in a tent? When did you see her?" Dumbledore pressed gently. Harry described to him the desert and the woman and the vision he had in her water basin. Dumbledore nodded, his eyes slightly distant. "Very interesting. I'm afraid I do not know exactly who this woman is, Harry, but I do have a curious idea. If I'm right, then you have made yourself an powerful ally."
Harry frowned. "The woman? But sir, she was just a dream I had."
Dumbledore smiled at him, his eyes twinkling. "I thought we had learned not to ignore your dreams. I am going to look into this. In the meantime, I suggest you do as Madame Pomfrey tells you so that you'll be ready to meet your new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. I know how excited you get to see who it is." Harry scowled, grumbling under his breath about some of the hideous professors they had, paying special attention to Umbridge from fifth year. Dumbledore chuckled than left, intending to look into the meaning behind his student's vision.
