A/N: Italics in the present tense are dreams, italics in the past tense are flashbacks. Generally the flashbacks are dated.

In Dreams

Chapter Five

In the cluttered office of the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry sat an aging man, wearing powder blue robes. He had just sent some documents to the new Minister for Magic, Kingsley Shaklebolt. A shrill ringing sound alerted Dumbledore to an object hanging upon the wall. The item was hanging between two snoozing ex-headmasters. The rectangular, rosewood piece had a gilded frieze around the base and a carved capital. It looked like a clock minus its pendulum, it was an organizer of sorts and it was currently ringing to remind the Headmaster of an engagement.

"Headmaster," came a voice behind Dumbledore. The man turned to face the painting of Phineas Nigellus Black

"Yes Phineas how can I help you?"

"The painting of Tilly Toke, at the entrance has informed me of the arrival of three old Gryffindors."

"Ah yes, I was expecting them. Excellent."

Harry, Remus and Sirius reached the familiar statue of the gargoyle that guarded the entrance to the headmaster's office.

"Well here we are," announced Harry shifting nervously. "You know the password Remus?"

"Yes – 'Pepper Imps'"

The gargoyle jumped aside revealing a stone stairwell. The three men stepped up onto the marble steps, which immediately began to wind there way upwards; Sirius' eyes widened in shock. In the last few days he'd seen things that unnerved him. The photographs moved it seemed some sort of fashion statement in London to carry around sticks; he'd vanished under a cloak, travelled on a triple decker purple bus – speeding that wasn't pulled over, the paintings whispered and the statues moved. He began to wonder was he in some sort of dream. Someone once told him that cheese caused nightmares, had he eaten some? Above all the thing that worried him most was the fact that Hermione, Harry and Remus didn't seem in the slightest bit perplexed by the mobility of supposable inanimate objects.

"Heathcliff - "

Sirius turned to face the person who said his name. No, that wasn't his name; why did they insist on calling him that? Who are they? The photographs he'd been shown yesterday seemed to prove that he had known them once, but what if they were wrong? Maybe he just looked very similar to this Sirius character. Didn't Hermione say he was dead… and he was certainly not dead… surely he'd remember if he had died.

" – we're here."

Remus knocked on the large, oak double door to Dumbledore's office and allowed himself and the others in. Dumbledore was standing with his back towards them, placing a silver sparkling goblet back on the shelf.

He turned around to face his old students, "now, how can I help you Re… Remus?" The man stammered not expecting to see the black haired and equally dark eyed former student.

Hermione paced backwards and forwards in the shadow of the Great Oak. Two Second Year students, who'd been gazing longingly out the window during a History of Magic class, were stunned to see this young girl they didn't recognise muttering to herself. The droning voice of professor Binns had been sending them to sleep, but now this pretty person waving her hands about in defeat enthralled them.

Hermione was confused to say the least. She was trying desperately to suck it up and walk in, how hard could it be, one foot in front of the other. Come on you can do this. Every time she came close to leaving, her stomach would flip only calming as she retreated.

"Come on you faced Voldemort's followers and survived… you've tasted Ron's cooking, Merlin, what is wrong with you. You are here for Sirius not yourself, stop being so damn selfish. Suck it up… chicken… for Merlin's sake you're a Gryffindor."

She decided to run, if she ran fast enough she wouldn't stop until she was inside, nor did she till she found herself heading straight for the wall in the entrance hall.

The two Second Year students shrugged at each other when they saw the girl running at the top speed into the main door, she was weird. They turned their attention back to professor Binns and could fell their eyelids drooping. They'd been up late the previous night; at least now they could get some sleep.

Harry sat down in one of the chairs that had appeared in Dumbledore's office. Now he was worried, in all the years he had known the headmaster he had never seen him falter. He couldn't be sure if this was a good or a bad thing. Dumbledore however, had composed himself and took a seat at his desk.

"Mr. Black," he addressed Sirius smirking, "how nice of you to return."

Sirius stared dumbly at this man, who on earth was this.

"Headmaster - "

"Now Remus I'm no longer your boss or teacher call me Albus," he replied softly.

"Albus, as you can see we have some news…"

"Ow!" exclaimed Hermione as she nursed her stubbed toe. In her efforts to avoid the wall she accidentally kicked a statue.

She knew she should really make her way to the headmaster's office but what harm could there be in seeing the Great Hall one last time. She entered the hall, closing the heavy doors silently behind her. The hall was unusually quiet and she felt a rush of nostalgia hit her as she grinned at the sight. Hermione approached the Gryffindor house table and sat down at it. She smiled sardonically as she ran a hand along the smooth polished wood. She had so many memories of sitting here; if she closed her eyes she could imagine the joyous banter of the students. The gossiping about the other houses, who did what, the hearty discussions about the cutest guy in school, or even the whispered voices and occasional shriek.

She could also imagine the smells of the hall from the polish and wax used on the tables to the sweet smell of cakes, the aroma of freshly baked pies and roast chicken wafting through the halls or the bitter smell of coffee in the mornings. She had a picture in her mind of Harry and Ron shovelling food into their mouths before heading to Quidditch practice, while she more than likely headed to the library. The fighting, the laughter, the jokes good and bad. This place was special, why did it take so long to return? How could she dread this place so much?

She tilted her head up to the enchanted ceiling; it was cloudy reflecting the sky outside. The yellows, reds, greens and blues of the house flags caught her eye as she glanced up at the staff table. She had predicted that one day she would sit there, perhaps in McGonagall's seat. The one with the lion's head at the top, the feet and armrests shaped like paws. The building held a certain innocence masked in the familiar depictions of the badger, raven, lion and even the snake.

Hermione found herself reflecting the seven years she had spent inside these walls. Instead of heading to the headmaster's office, she went the opposite direction, towards the 'Defence Against the Dark Arts' classroom. Now there was a room that held memories locked away. The Cornish pixies in her second year, witnessing the affects of the Unforgivables in fourth but also the place she and Ron had shared their first kiss.

March 1998 (Seventh Year)

"Well I still think Krum was a git," whispered Ron loudly to Harry.

Harry rolled his eyes at Ron. He could never tell just what Ron was playing at. He knew for certain that Ron liked Hermione as more than a friend, but Merlin was he going about it the wrong way. Harry snuck a look in Hermione's direction – she heard. She however didn't notice Harry's sympathetic look; she was too annoyed. Her face had turned crimson in sharp contrast to her naturally pale complexion. Hermione, who was never one to cause trouble in class, turned her body around so that her back now faced her burgundy haired friend. She was entirely sick of hearing about this and if Ron couldn't get over it or more importantly was immature enough to keep bringing it up she was just going to ignore him…yeah they were known for their frequent arguments but Merlin was she sick of them. If Ron was going to be childish about it, he could stuff it.

"Geesh… what's her problem," Ron again whispered too loudly to Harry, indicating to Hermione with his thumb.

Harry was cringing in sympathy for his friend. He could imagine Hermione biting her tongue in an effort to prevent herself beating his best mate with her school books. God, Ron could be thick, at least he'd be out of his misery, as such, in ten minutes. Harry continued to write down his notes as were being dictated by the professor, ignoring the snide remarks coming from his right.

As the students were filing out of the finished class, Hermione lagged behind in the hopes her two best friends would wait for her.

"Come on Hermione, you do want to get some of the Yorkshire pudding, you know if we wait it'll all be gone," Ron said irritated as his bushy haired companion slowly placed her belongings in her beige canvas satchel.

Once the room had become vacated, she turned sharply at Ron and spoke dangerously quiet, "well I didn't ask you to wait did I?"

"Merlin, what did I do this time!" Ron exclaimed, throwing his hands up in defeat.

Harry reasoned that it would be better if he promptly left and anyway with Ron occupied it gave him a good excuse to talk to Ginny, without her older brother bothering them. In the last month he had found himself becoming fonder of the youngest Weasley.

"You are unbelievable Ronald Weasley," Hermione said loudly.

"What?"

"I really thought you'd have let go of the Viktor thing by now."

"That never bothered me," he replied innocently.

Hermione sighed, it wasn't the place to begin another argument, anyway he had an important Quidditch match at the weekend, and there was no point in distracting him. She grabbed her bag and was ready to march out of the room when she turned to face him and said in a defeated tone, "if you had just asked me to that bloody dance earlier, I would have said yes and we would have saved ourselves all this grief."

As she walked past he grabbed her elbow, softly but firmly, "huh!"

"I'm not stupid Ron."

"I never said you where."

She wanted to scream in frustration, Merlin if he couldn't just take the hint, did she have to spell it out –I-L-I-K-E-Y-O-U- was it that difficult. However, she just stared at him shaking her head.

"You know what Ron," she began in an utterly dejected tone, "I'm tired of these games. I went to a stupid dance with Viktor in fourth year, it was almost three years ago, please just let it go… anyway since when did I have to ask your permission to make my own decisions," her voice was steadily getting louder as her arms unconsciously uncurled from across her chest to motion her distress, "last I checked I was capable, but then all you ever thought of me was a buck toothed, bushy haired, know-it-all, so why did you get so irate about the whole thing? I don't know how many times I've had to say this to you; it was just a bloody dance. Do you think if I had known, I would have gone? You are really trying my patience; even Harry has figured this one out. Do you honestly think that if I didn't like you so much that I would put up with all your crap? It's because I like you that I let you copy my homework or I help you more or-"

Hermione's voice droned on in Ron's head but he didn't make out a word, 'did she just say she liked me?' his heart quickened, 'I'm almost positive that she said she liked me.'

" – Which is why I think that we should just -" Hermione was cut off by the unexpected joining of lips. " – Forget about it," she whispered, continuing what she had been saying but unaware of the words she uttered.

Ron stared at the shock plastered across her face, he suddenly lost his appetite, what if he had misinterpreted what she'd said, after all he couldn't recall any of it 'oh bugger!'

Hermione was flabbergasted, he'd actually kissed her, 'he did kiss me?' She smirked when she looked at his face, he'd gone white and his freckles seemed to illuminate from it. She thought he looked adorably confused, one way to put him out of his misery. She stepped forward and slowly moved her lips towards his. Finally they'd kissed, and it was wonderful it only took them three years.

It took Hermione several seconds to realize where she was standing. She had been so engrossed in her thoughts, that she hadn't noticed the direction her feet had carried her – towards the dungeons, Snape's domain. The young woman leaned against the one of the cold limestone walls in the dimly lit corridor; this area always made her uneasy and it hadn't changed in the slightest.

The sound of footsteps made Hermione's breath catch. The confident clump of the shoes against the stone tiles echoes around the empty corridor. They also announced the arrival of someone approaching. Hermione realized with the falling of her stomach that this person would be behind her soon and that they were coming from the direction she needed to head in. The footsteps were getting louder until they suddenly halted, followed by the swish of a cloak as the heavy material was swung swiftly through the air.

"What are you doing here?" The voice she dreaded hearing again said. It still carried the heavy notes and greasy undertones. Hermione turned to face Severus Snape.

"So you see," said Remus, as he replaced his teacup on its saucer, "we're quite stumped."

Dumbledore replied with an 'mmm' noise. Harry had left the office to go in search of Hermione; Sirius had followed.

"We thought it best to come see you," said Remus, expecting a response this time.

"Well," began Dumbledore, leaning back in his seat and crossing his fingers, "there is one thing that may help…"

When Harry left the castle, he discovered Hermione missing. "Must have headed for theoffice,"he mumbled to no one in particular.

He turned to see his godfather standing behind him, obediently. It depressed him to see this once brilliant wizard, reduced to acting like a lost puppy. Even when he was a fugitive he had more dignity. Dumbledore recommended Harry show him around the grounds, in the hopes something would trigger a memory. Harry headed for the Quidditch pitch, from the stories he'd heard Sirius had spent a lot of time here, and it wasn't all watching his father play.

"Typical," Hermione muttered to herself.

"Hello Professor," she managed to say as nicely as possible.

"Miss Granger, to what do I owe the pleasure," Snape replied icily.

"You may want to accompany me to the Headmaster's office"

Severus Snape strode through the silent halls of Hogwarts. He had always had the ability to strike fear into the younger years, the older ones just plain out avoided the crooked nosed man. It was safer to be nowhere near him unless in Potions class, there was no escaping that or if you were one of his prized Slytherins. Hermione noted as she took two steps to each of his, that he still walked about as though he owned everything in sight, he would be scary to meet in a dark alley and with their history, and she hoped that would never occur. She also noted that even the paintings avoided his gaze, pretending to be asleep or just leaving their frames. Neither spoke as they made quick progress through the corridors, this suited Hermione, as she really had nothing to say to the intimidating Potion's Master. She did however feel like a student again, being forcefully marched to the Headmaster's domain, away from the back up of friends in the classroom.

"Pepper Imps."

Snape's deep voice pulled Hermione out of her thoughts; she looked up to see the Professor standing impatiently on the marble steps. The two adults moved up the stairwell, under a cloak of silence.

"Lupin!" Severus Snape sneered at his ex-colleague and school adversary.

Even though the two had fought on the same side in the War, their mutual dislike was firmly rooted in the past. When they attended Hogwarts together, Remus' friends had been the bane of Snape's existence, but secretly Snape had always envied the closeness they shared. He himself had always been an outcast, spending too much time reading Dark Art literature. After discovering Remus' secret, that he was a werewolf, in their sixth year, his green-eyed monster had increased drastically in size, an outcast with much closer, caring friends. Snape of course never or would never admit this and the two grown men continued the distaste, Snape choosing to make snide remarks while Remus opting for polite indifference.

"Snape," Remus replied smirking, "nice to see you again."

For a moment after Remus spoke silence reigned, in which Dumbledore sat behind his large desk grinning, his clear blue eyes showing signs of amusement.

"Ah, Severus, just the person I want to talk to."