Changes Made
Chapter Seven
Harry had fallen asleep across from Hermione in the train compartment. Outside the train, the sky was grey with clouds and a light rain feel against the window. As the train swayed and jostled gently over the tracks, Hermione felt herself relaxing. She was finally going back to Hogwarts after an impossibly long summer. In the trunk on the floor next to her, Hermione had packed all of her books, robes and various other instruments of magical education. After letting Griselda out to fly at Platform 9 ¾, Hermione had collapsed her cage and tucked it inside the brilliantly coloured bed sheets she'd packed at the very last minute.
She stared out at the trees and fields flitting by. Past the glass, everything seemed dreary and sad. In the distance, lightning forked across the clouds. Inside the car, Hermione watched Harry sleeping. His chest rose and fell steadily and a peaceful smile barely touched the corners of his mouth. She wondered what he was dreaming about. If she were to fall asleep, Hermione was sure of what she'd see. Since her encounter with Snape in Greater Sweeney, she'd had one recurring dream.
In it, she was running hard and fast down a long, twisting corridor until she came to three doors. It didn't matter which door she chose in her dream; she always dove through one to find a huge field before her. In the dream, she kept running through the field until dark clouds began to gather on the horizon. Then she would stop and watch as the clouds drew closer and closer, and with the clouds came a thundering army all on horseback. She would turn to find another army coming from behind her and with nowhere to go, she would stand as they came closer and closer until a battle was raging all around her.
Sometimes a horse would stumble next to her and sometimes it was someone's shield falling that knocked her to the ground Just as the battle seemed to be ending, someone would call out her name and she would raise her head to see a figure racing towards her from across the field. As he reached her, Hermione would stretch a hand out to meet him and he'd begin to pull his helmet guard up. Then, from behind her, a spear would come shooting from nowhere and everything would slow down. Just before she ever got to see who the person running after her was or whether or not he was hit by the spear, she woke up, drenched in sweat and gasping for breath.
Hermione's personal recounting of events in this familiar dream was interrupted by the conductor's gruff announcement that the train was puling into Hogsmeade. Harry woke with a start and with a sleepy grin at Hermione, stood, stretched, and pulled his trunk from beneath his seat. Hermione shivered, shaking off the memory of her strange dream and returned Harry's smile.
"You all set, then? Had a nice nap?" she asked jokingly.
"Yeah," Harry laughed. "Surprisingly comfortable, these seats. We don't need our robes on, do we?" Hermione shook her head.
"Rules are relaxed for us this week, anyway. I doubt we'll even have a curfew. However, I strongly suspect that our new lessons will be both mentally and physically exhausting. Harry, are you nervous about them at all?"
"Well," Harry said slowly, "There are some things I would rather not relive, if you know what I mean." Hermione nodded thoughtfully. A knock came on the door. The two of them looked up and saw the conductor waving jovially through the glass. "Come on," Hermione said, and opened the door.
.............
Harry and Hermione were seated in the Headmaster's office with Professor McGonagall beside them. Professor Dumbledore sat behind his desk, smiling.
"Welcome back, welcome back," he said cheerily. "I can't tell you how glad I am you decided to come. I realise it is rather unorthodox to invite you here before the actual start-of-term, and I understand completely the sacrifice you have made to be here. Because of that," Dumbledore leaned forward and peered at them over the tops of his spectacles, "the rules will be quite relaxed until September first. Although you will not have any sort of a curfew, it would be wise to tell a teacher here where you are going before you leave the castle. The Forest is still off-limits, but you may visit Hogsmeade at any time that you do not have other obligations. I ask that you stay together while away from the castle to avoid unpleasant incident, and that you be back to the castle in time for meals, which you will eat with the staff in the Great Hall. Do you have any questions?"
"No, Professor," Hermione answered.
"No, sir," Harry echoed.
"Professor McGonagall, will you show them to their rooms?"
"Rooms, Professor?" Hermione asked. "Not Gryffindor Tower?"
"No. In honour of your visit, we have arranged for two of the extra rooms in the castle to be prepared for you."
"Thanks, sir," Harry said, sounding a bit stunned. Professor Dumbledore winked at him.
"It was nothing. Professor?" Professor McGonagall rose, smiling uncharacteristically at Harry and Hermione.
"This way," she said, and led them from the room.
............
"Wicked," Hermione heard Harry say. She poked her head through the door separating their two rooms.
"Pleased, are you?" Hermione asked with a smile. "Wow. What a ceiling!" Harry was looking up so far he was nearly leaning backwards.
"You could play a game of Quidditch in here!" Harry exclaimed.
"And this is just your 'foyer'. Take a look at your bedroom, just through there." She pointed across the room. Harry obediently trotted over and walked inside.
"Bloody hell."
"Harry!" Hermione admonished. "Really, save it for something important."
"You could fit seventeen people in this bed without trying," Harry called, his voice muffled.
"I wouldn't, if I were you," Hermione advised. "Your bathroom ought to be near cavernous as well. Mine is. I feel the drain alone is going to swallow me up. I'm going to unpack." She turned smartly and entered her bedroom. Her trunk waited at the foot of the bed. An industrial house-elf had already unpacked a few of the things, if the brilliant sheets now covering the bed gave any indication. Hermione sighed. S.P.E.W. had not got off well at all in the past year, and she really didn't expect any sort of change. In fact, it seemed she didn't have any choice but to accept it for the moment, and putting it from her mind, Hermione decided to tuck her clothing away in the wardrobe across the room. On a whim, Hermione kicked of her shoes and socks and sighed as her feet nestled into the soft, shaggy carpet. She wiggled her toes experimentally. It was lovely. With a smile to herself, she opened the rosewood wardrobe to find...
"Aaaaaaaah!" Hermione shrieked and stumbled backwards away from the wardrobe.
"What is it!?" Harry raced into the room, wand drawn. Pouring onto the floor were hundreds of tiny black beetles. In the middle of the room, Hermione danced up and down, shaking her legs and batting at her feet.
"Ouch! They bite!"
Harry shot a spell at the beetles, vanishing them away.
"Let me see," he said, crouching. "Stop that!" Hermione had nearly kicked him in the ear. He flicked the last one from just above her ankle, examining the welts rising quickly on her skin.
"That looks painful. Come on, let's get you to the Hospital Wing." Wincing with each step, Hermione let Harry lead her from their rooms, up three staircases to Madam Pomfrey's domain. "Madam Pomfrey?" Harry called, looking around as they entered.
"She's gone to see Professor Sprout, Potter," a cold voice answered from behind a screen. "What is it this time?" Professor Snape stepped from behind the panel, eyes icy and hard. His eyebrows twitched uncharacteristically when he saw Hermione and her bare feet.
"I opened a wardrobe in my room, Professor, and these beetles came out of it...." Hermione said quietly, looking down at the floor. Snape stepped forward.
"What kind of wardrobe?" he asked brusquely.
"Rosewood, sir," Hermione answered. Snape knelt next to her and extended a long slender finger to brush against one of the bites. Hermione shivered.
"Do they sting, or do they throb?" he asked, looking up at her. Hermione paused.
"Both, I think, sir." The answer was so soft he barely heard it.
"You'll live," Snape said, rising. "You were bitten by a magical species of Japanese Rose Beetle. They are only mildly venomous, but the bites are painful. I have an antidote in my office. Wait here." Snape turned on his heel and strode from the room. Hermione looked up to see Harry looking at her curiously.
"He's never acted like that before," he said bluntly.
"Well don't ask me to explain it!" Hermione exclaimed defensively. She sank into a chair by the panel, reaching down to touch place where Snape's finger had been. It tingled oddly. When he'd looked up at her from the floor, that same touch of regret she'd seen in the street in Greater Sweeney had surfaced briefly in his eyes, softening and deepening them.
"And did you notice his hair?" Harry sounded shocked. "It was practically clean!"
"I did write that in my letter," Hermione reminded him.
"And he wasn't wearing that batty cloak, either," Harry continued.
"I wrote that, too, or did you read it?" Hermione said, raising her eyebrows.
"I read it, it's just the shock of actually seeing it, I guess." Harry shrugged and shook his head. "Weird." In very little time, Snape returned. Although not out of breath, it was clear that he'd hurried.
"Potter, you may go," Snape ordered. Without waiting for Harry to act, Snape began his treatment of Hermione's bites. Placing a bowl beneath her feet, Snape poured cool, clean water over them and dried them carefully with a towel. She winced as he pressed gently on the welts with the soft terry cloth. Sliding the bowl from beneath her feet, Snape replaced it with the towel and pulled a small vial from his pocket. He poured half of the contents into his hand and returning the stopper to the bottle, rubbed his hands briskly together. Then, carefully, he placed his hands on Hermione's left foot and began slow, smooth circles over the insect bites.
Hermione felt instant relief. A soft noise of contentment escaped her lips and she relaxed into the chair. She watched through half-lowered lids as Snape continued his magical pattern of medicinal massage. When he repeated the manoeuvre on her other foot, Hermione let her eyes close completely and allowed herself to enjoy the sensations Snape's fingers left on her skin.
............
A/N: Sorry it took so long. I had to do A LOT of editing on this chapter and the next one, with which I am nearly finished. Feedback on the coming chapters would be greatly appreciated, as I am beginning to get stuck in places and I really need ot know what is working and what isn't. Next chapter actual lessons begin. The Japanese Rose Beetle actually exists, by the way. They're about the size of a medium-sized thumbnail, shiny, and are usually black or dark green and copper. They prey on poor, innocent rosebushes like the one in my garden and make a pretty good nuisance of themselves. Plus, they bite, which is painful, although not enhanced with venom or anything. I added that bit in for effect. :-) Have a great day!