Chapter 4: Bad news, And Malfoy turning soft?
Greetings my fanfic-reading friends. How are we all? I hope you're all enjoying the story so far. For those of you that have read it, and not reviewed, shame on you. However, I'll forgive you if you review soon. OK? Do we have a deal?
For those of you that have reviewed, here are my comments:
ILUVRONWEASLEY: hehe, indeed. I understand, thanks for saying that it's good and stuff.and it is disturbing because he's now quite old.and I'd just be upset if he was younger and having a child.John Lennon and him were partners in writing songs during the 60's, but then John left him and ran off with his Japanese wife. He was shot in 1980 by a bastard. So he's dead. Paul lives on though.*shiver*. Keep on with your story though.have you written the last chappie yet? I'll have to check.
Electra*27: stupid Word puts that capital thing there, and thanks for the compliments. Yes, Draco and Hermione are cool.I'm wondering how I'll be manipulating it though.
Electra*27 (again): You could always just read the whole thing and review at the end ya know.but I'm not complaining.a review's a review!
Electra*27 (for the last time): muchly, thank you. Hope you enjoyed it, and yes, I got the dream thing from you.I'll add you to the disclaimer.keep on with your story man!
Disclaimer: Just something that indicates I don't own any characters or anything like that. I also do NOT own the idea of self harming in dreams.that does indeed belong to electra*27. I do own Kedua syndrome though.
Dedication: I dedicate this chapter to no-one in particular, except my notebook, which handily stores any notes on the future of the story I plan to expel. And the loyal people that review for me. Thanks muchly.
Let's get down to it then.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Hermione woke up, truly, at around 9.00 am the next day. She felt so bad, opening her eyes took a great deal of effort, and the breakfast in front of her made her feel like throwing up profusely.
(A/N: I'm basing this on the last time I got really sick. I couldn't eat a thing, I couldn't read, I couldn't do anything.except sleep, really).
Madam Pomfrey came in then, and took a look at her. 'I'll take your temperature,' she said hurriedly. She waved her wand at Hermione, and a couple of numbers appeared above her head. Madam Pomfrey shook her head.
'Oh dear. You're going to be here for a while Miss Granger.'
'Ohhh,' moaned Hermione. 'Can't you magically lower my temperature or something like that? I'm going to get so behind.'
'I assure you, Miss Granger, there's no way you'll be able to concentrate on anything in the state you're in. The fact that you managed to wake up and are able to talk is, on its own, quite extraordinary. I was meaning to ask you, by the way, how did you get that scar on your face?'
'Scar?'
'Yes, have a look.' Madam Pomfrey gave Hermione a mirror, and she saw that there was, indeed, a scar on her cheek. Hermione remained puzzled, until she remembered.
'Oh yes! I had a dream last night, and a branch came up and hit my face. I must have scratched myself in my sleep or something about that. No big drama.'
Madam Pomfrey's eyes widened. She looked at Hermione strangely, and said 'You're muggle-born, yes?'
'Yes,' replied Hermione, slightly impatiently. 'That's why I've got a muggle illness as opposed to a wizard one.'
'Yes. . . wizard illness. . . right, well I'll leave you to rest then, and I insist that you do try to sleep. I'll be around with some medication in an hour.'
'OK,' replied Hermione.
Madam Pomfrey left in a hurry. Hermione settled down on the pillows, and fell asleep again.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Madam Pomfrey rushed towards the Principals office.
'Honeydukes!' she cried. The stone gargoyle sprang open, and Madam Pomfrey rushed up the stairs.
Dumbledore was sitting calmly on his desk chair, reading a letter. When he looked up and saw Madam Pomfrey walking towards him, appearing flustered, he folded the letter, placed it carefully in a drawer, closed the drawer and looked up.
'Poppy. Lovely to see you. What can I do for you?'
'Professor. Last night I emitted Hermione Granger into the hospital wing. She looks dreadful sir. She's muggle-born, so I suspected it was something like that muggle illness. The flu.'
Dumbledore nodded. 'I see. Continue.'
'Well, I came to her this morning, and she looked horrible. Very pale. I noticed also, that she had a gash on her face. And I asked her where she got it. She said she'd had a dream, and a branch slapped against her face, or something like that. And the scar was there.'
Dumbledore said nothing, he just looked at her, politely puzzled.
'Professor. I think Miss Granger has Kedua Syndrome.'
Professor Dumbledore nodded at this, and frowned. He began pacing up and down his room, then he turned and said 'Remind me, Poppy. What happens with this syndrome?'
'Well, sufferers tend to be pure-bloods, so why she's got it, I don't know. But it seems as though it's a muggle illness. They recover from the muggle symptoms after about 2 weeks, but one thing remains. They keep getting strange dreams, and they'll get beaten up according to what happens in the dream. Only one other muggle-born person has ever gotten it before. He couldn't recover, and he dreamt his own death.'
Dumbledore turned sharply at this. 'What's the cure for this illness?'
Madam Pomfrey looked down. 'Well.it's a mental illness as well as a physical one. It's usually very powerful witches and wizards that get it.'
'I cannot deny that miss Granger has the potential to be very powerful. Continue.'
'And they need something. Two things actually. One for herself, and one for.the world. The person that died from this disease needed someone to come back from the dead, but of course that can't happen. He dreamt himself drinking poison, I think.'
'Ahh. Right. Well we'll have to monitor these dreams she's having then. How long was it until this other case died?'
'About a year after she first got the disease. The dreams progress. They're virtually impossible to translate at first. When it progresses a bit though, it becomes clear what they need.'
'Ahh. Right. I suppose there is nothing we can really do but wait then.'
'Wait? But, Professor . . . what if it's too late?'
Dumbledore patted Madam Pomfrey's arm comfortingly. 'Don't worry. I'll make sure she doesn't die. I'll get Minerva to bring Mr Potter and Mr Weasley to me. They ought to be aware of this. Don't tell Miss Granger yet though.I don't think she needs this on her mind while she's recovering from the muggle symptoms. Thank you for seeing me about this Poppy.'
'No. . . no problem Professor.'
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Harry and Rom had just been down to the Potions dungeon to collect Hermione's homework. Snape sneered at them to tell her that the detentions will continue once she's well again, and 10 points were off Gryffindor for her getting sick at such a stupid time.
'God,' said Ron, when they were outside. 'The nerve of him. It's not Gryffindor's fault Hermione got sick. It's not even Hermione's fault. He's such a *censored*.
'Now now Ron,' replied Harry. 'Hermione wouldn't want you saying something like that.' He carefully tucked the piece of parchment Snape had given him into his backpack. 'What have we got next?'
'Another free. It would be Ancient Runes for Hermione.'
'We ought to get that homework too.'
Just then, they heard a door slam. Harry and Ron turned to see Professor McGonagall walking quickly towards them.
'Mr Potter, Mr Weasley. Professor Dumbledore needs to see you.'
'What?' said Ron suddenly, getting worried. 'What have we done, Professor?'
'You haven't done anything Mr Weasley. This concerns Miss Granger,' replied the teacher.
Harry and Ron looked at each other, scared, as they followed Professor McGonagall to the Gargoyle behind which Professor Dumbledore's office lurked.
'Honeydukes!' said Professor McGonagall. The gargoyle sprang open and Professor McGonagall shooed Harry and Ron up it, then said goodbye and left down the corridor as Harry and Ron were carried up to the Principal.
Professor McGonagall stood there, and smiled at the pair of them.
'Welcome Harry, Ron.'
'Professor!' said Harry. 'We were sent here by Professor McGonagall. She said it was something to do with Hermione. What is it?'
'Yes. Miss Granger was emitted into the hospital wing last night. Correct?'
'Yes,' replied Harry, impatiently.
'Well, she had a dream last night, and in it, she got hit by a branch. When she woke up, the scar from the branch was there.'
Harry looked at Ron, wide-eyed. Ron stared steadily at Professor Dumbledore. 'What does that mean, Professor?' he asked.
Dumbledore sighed, then sat down on his chair. 'Madam Pomfrey believes that Hermione has Kedua Syndrome.'
Harry and Ron looked at each either. Neither of them had the FOGGIEST-
'It means,' continued Dumbledore, 'That Hermione will recover from her muggle symptoms fine. But she won't lose her ability to hurt herself in her dreams. Not unless a cue is found through dream-translating.'
Harry and Ron looked at each other, shocked. Hermione had the ability to hurt herself in her dreams. They'd never heard of something like this before.
'Can she hurt other people professor?'
'No, she can only hurt herself. Research has shown, however, that other people can sense exactly what the sufferer means.'
'I don't understand, Professor,' said Harry quietly.
'The only way of curing this part of the illness,' said Dumbledore. 'Is to find out what Hermione needs. The illness arrises from too main needs. One that's personal, and one that effects a lot of people. Once both of them are recovered, Hermione will be as well.'
'And,' said Ron slowly, taking it all in. 'We need to have a look at Hermione's dreams. . . in order to find out what she needs.'
'Precisely,' said the Professor. 'At the moment though, it will be very hard to translate the dreams, because they'd only be very vague. It will take about 2 months for the dreams to have any sort of significant meaning.
'I must insist,' he continued, 'That you do not tell Miss Granger about this just yet.'
'What?' said Harry. 'We can't do that. She has a right to know.she's the person suffering.'
'Yes Harry.I do wish for you to tell her. . . but do you really think she's going to recover easily from her muggle symptoms if she's got that on her mind?'
Harry looked down at the ground, and nodded sadly. Ron was still standing quite upright. 'Professor?' he asked. 'Has anyone ever died from this illness before?'
'Only one person on record. His needs weren't met in time, and he dreamt that he was drinking poison.'
Harry and Ron cringed at that. Harry had gone quite pale at the thought of Hermione drinking poison in her sleep.
'I strongly advise you two not to worry. It was a year after this case first got the illness that he died. His need couldn't be met. We will make sure, however, that Hermione's needs are met, when we find out what they are.
'I had another reason for calling you both here. It only saddens me that Miss Granger isn't here to hear this. I got a letter from Remus Lupin this morning.'
Their ears pricked up. 'Oh really?' said Harry. 'What did it say?'
'Well, I was getting to that. He says that Percy's moving back to the Burrow tomorrow, and attending his first meeting in Grimmauld place tomorrow evening.'
'Well, that's nice. I'll have to make sure Hermione knows that. I'll drop by the hospital wing before quidditch practise.'
'Jolly good!' said Dumbledore. 'I'll see you two later then.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Hermione was lying on her bed, thinking about a song her mother use to love.before.
There are places I remember, All my life, though some have changed, Some forever not for better, Some have gone, and some remain, All these places have their moments, With lovers and friends I still can recall, Some are dead and some are living, In my life, I've loved them all,
But of all these friends and lovers, There is no-one, compares with you, And these memories lose their meaning, When I think of love, as something new, Though I know I'll never lose affection, For people and things, that went b4, I know I'll often stop and think about them, In my life I love you more.
Though I know I'll never lose affection, For people and things that went before, I know I'll often stop and think about them In my life, I love you more,
In my life, I love you more.
(A/N: Yes, a Beatles song, but it WILL have relevance.)
Her mum use to sing it to herself whenever she was sad. Hermione always presumed it sort of comforted her from how life was. Hermione wasn't sure why she was thinking about it. She missed having her mother, she presumed.
It's so unfair, she thought to herself. How come some evil family, like Malfoy's family, have never had something seriously bad ever happen to them, whereas people, like Harry, and Neville, and me, who want to do some good in the world, have things like this happen to them.
She thought about her parents. They'd been emitted to St. Mungo's as soon as Hermione got there and found them wandering around in the house cluelessly. She supposed they were in the same conditions as Neville's parents: Closed off, with Nurses analysing them, trying to make them remember, and recognise her. She'd be visiting them at Christmas of course. Gee, she thought to herself. That'll be cheerful tidings. She closed her eyes, and began to doze off again.
She was now in a dark room. She was searching for something again. She felt something brush against her leg.
'Crookshanks?' she said. 'Is that you?'
Suddenly Hermione heard a hiss, then something sharp seared across her arm. She howled, and woke up with a start.
She could see her hand covering her arm. She removed her arm and saw a huge scratch there.
She sighed, took out her wand and repaired the scratch. She'd also mended the scar from that morning. Simple things like that were easy. She learnt the spells from practise N.E.W.T. papers. She thought this very peculiar. She had no idea she was self-harming in her sleep. She thought it very peculiar.or at least she tried to think it. She found it hard though.it hurt to think.
She had a day of sleeping and waking, pretty much. She woke up again at 6.00 in the evening, presumably when Harry and Ron were out testing for their chaser. Hmm, she thought, checking her watch.
Someone entered the room. Hermione pretended to be asleep.
'That doesn't work for me Granger. I have Head-related news.'
'Malfoy. Am I having another nightmare?'
'That was pathetic Granger. You need to do better then that next time.'
Hermione opened her eyes, and forced herself up (with a great deal of effort). She magicked herself a glass of water, and forced herself to look at him.
Was it her imagination, or did he not have his usual sneer? Obviously it was her imagination, because it was right back again the second he looked directly at her.
'What's this Head news?'
'Aww.no 'Hi Draco, how nice to see you.'
'Malfoy, seeing you is no pleasure of mine. Now what's this news?'
'Well, you know how it's Halloween in two months time, and we usually have the feast?'
'Yeah.'
'Well, Professor Dumbledore said to me, that perhaps you and I ought to use our imaginations with it, and see if we can organise something a little bit different for the special occasion.'
Hermione nodded. 'Sounds all right to me. What kind of thing were you thinking about?'
'Something like a dance, I reckon. I'd suggest it for Christmas, but a lot of people, including me, aren't going to be at school then.'
'Or me,' she added, half-heartedly.
Malfoy opened his mouth, like he was going to elaborate, but decided against it.
'Well, I suppose we can talk about it when you're recovered from.what's this muggle disease you've got?'
'Flu, I think. Madam Pomfrey hasn't actually told me what it is.'
'Hmm.what's it involve?'
'High temperature, headaches, hallucinating.well, hallucinating I'm presuming, because I'm having a civilised conversation with someone I don't like very much.
Malfoy shook his head at that. 'Why do you hate me so Granger?'
She thought about that question. She thought about all the times he'd been horrible to her, about his constant bullying towards Hagrid, begin all teachers-petty towards Professor Umbridge in 5th year. . .
'There are many reasons why Malfoy.'
Malfoy looked at her critically for a second. 'You know that muggle business all the muggles fight about. . . what is it. . . reliagon?'
'Religion. Yeah, what about it?'
'Doesn't that teach forgiveness?'
Hermione was puzzled at what he said. 'I guess. . . I've never really been into religion. . . wait.' It was her turn to look at Malfoy critically. 'Are you begging me for forgiveness Malfoy? I never knew you had that in you.'
Malfoy clutched a hand to his heart. 'Granger, you insult me, thinking that I would beg for something like that.'
Hermione kept quiet, inviting Malfoy to explain himself just a tad more.
'Remember detention the other day Granger? Remember what I said? We have to be, basically, partners, for this whole year. I don't ask you to forgive me for things that, mostly, I don't really regret having in the resume that is my life-'
Hermione snorted at this.
'I just ask for acceptance. I can't help who I am Granger. Not for the most part. I am a pure-blood. I have been raised to believe that the Dark Lord's principles are correct. And in some ways, I still believe that they are, despite the fact that I'm not evil any more-'
'Malfoy,' Hermione interrupted. 'How can you claim that you're not evil, and yet still believe some of the principles Voldemort teaches?'
Malfoy considered that. 'Granger. The principles of the Dark Lord are that if you surrender to him and obey him, you will gain power. I still believe that. If you follow the dark lord, you will gain power, and a lot of it. I don't believe, however, that it is necessarily nice power. . . and I don't believe that having this power won't lead to future regrets.'
Hermione considered that. It seemed quite sensible, she presumed. But she found it so hard to believe that Malfoy was willing to basically repent. This is MALFOY, for Christ's sake.
'The problem with a lot of you goodie-goodies,' continued Malfoy. 'Is that you're all so racist against people who have ever had any connections to the Dark Lord, you are unwilling to think that they might be willing to change. You think only those who are born to your side are truly trustworthy. That's why you all don't seem to trust Snape.'
Hermione leaned closer to Hermione then. Those eyes were really boring into her.
'Isn't it, Granger?'
Hermione didn't reply. She just pushed him away.
'I'm contagious.'
Malfoy snorted at that. 'Likely. Anyway, here's my proposition. You don't have to forgive me, and god forbid it because I don't want you to forgive me. You just have to learn to accept me. . . and learn to live with me. Because, when you think about it Granger, we're stuck with each other for a very, very long time.'
With that, Malfoy left.
You know, a voice in Hermione said to her, as she began to doze off again. For an absolute prick of a person, he does have quite a bit of wisdom.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
OK guys, some things in this chappie I'm sure are a bit weird, but they will mean something in future . . . you guys gotta admit I'm good . . . I managed to write a new chapter, and do laundry, and watch weird movie 6 times, all in a day. To tell me how fabulous I am, please review. Reviewing could also be used for telling me that no, I suck, and I should stop bragging. Anything, anything at all, click on that handy box below that says REVIEW!
Greetings my fanfic-reading friends. How are we all? I hope you're all enjoying the story so far. For those of you that have read it, and not reviewed, shame on you. However, I'll forgive you if you review soon. OK? Do we have a deal?
For those of you that have reviewed, here are my comments:
ILUVRONWEASLEY: hehe, indeed. I understand, thanks for saying that it's good and stuff.and it is disturbing because he's now quite old.and I'd just be upset if he was younger and having a child.John Lennon and him were partners in writing songs during the 60's, but then John left him and ran off with his Japanese wife. He was shot in 1980 by a bastard. So he's dead. Paul lives on though.*shiver*. Keep on with your story though.have you written the last chappie yet? I'll have to check.
Electra*27: stupid Word puts that capital thing there, and thanks for the compliments. Yes, Draco and Hermione are cool.I'm wondering how I'll be manipulating it though.
Electra*27 (again): You could always just read the whole thing and review at the end ya know.but I'm not complaining.a review's a review!
Electra*27 (for the last time): muchly, thank you. Hope you enjoyed it, and yes, I got the dream thing from you.I'll add you to the disclaimer.keep on with your story man!
Disclaimer: Just something that indicates I don't own any characters or anything like that. I also do NOT own the idea of self harming in dreams.that does indeed belong to electra*27. I do own Kedua syndrome though.
Dedication: I dedicate this chapter to no-one in particular, except my notebook, which handily stores any notes on the future of the story I plan to expel. And the loyal people that review for me. Thanks muchly.
Let's get down to it then.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Hermione woke up, truly, at around 9.00 am the next day. She felt so bad, opening her eyes took a great deal of effort, and the breakfast in front of her made her feel like throwing up profusely.
(A/N: I'm basing this on the last time I got really sick. I couldn't eat a thing, I couldn't read, I couldn't do anything.except sleep, really).
Madam Pomfrey came in then, and took a look at her. 'I'll take your temperature,' she said hurriedly. She waved her wand at Hermione, and a couple of numbers appeared above her head. Madam Pomfrey shook her head.
'Oh dear. You're going to be here for a while Miss Granger.'
'Ohhh,' moaned Hermione. 'Can't you magically lower my temperature or something like that? I'm going to get so behind.'
'I assure you, Miss Granger, there's no way you'll be able to concentrate on anything in the state you're in. The fact that you managed to wake up and are able to talk is, on its own, quite extraordinary. I was meaning to ask you, by the way, how did you get that scar on your face?'
'Scar?'
'Yes, have a look.' Madam Pomfrey gave Hermione a mirror, and she saw that there was, indeed, a scar on her cheek. Hermione remained puzzled, until she remembered.
'Oh yes! I had a dream last night, and a branch came up and hit my face. I must have scratched myself in my sleep or something about that. No big drama.'
Madam Pomfrey's eyes widened. She looked at Hermione strangely, and said 'You're muggle-born, yes?'
'Yes,' replied Hermione, slightly impatiently. 'That's why I've got a muggle illness as opposed to a wizard one.'
'Yes. . . wizard illness. . . right, well I'll leave you to rest then, and I insist that you do try to sleep. I'll be around with some medication in an hour.'
'OK,' replied Hermione.
Madam Pomfrey left in a hurry. Hermione settled down on the pillows, and fell asleep again.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Madam Pomfrey rushed towards the Principals office.
'Honeydukes!' she cried. The stone gargoyle sprang open, and Madam Pomfrey rushed up the stairs.
Dumbledore was sitting calmly on his desk chair, reading a letter. When he looked up and saw Madam Pomfrey walking towards him, appearing flustered, he folded the letter, placed it carefully in a drawer, closed the drawer and looked up.
'Poppy. Lovely to see you. What can I do for you?'
'Professor. Last night I emitted Hermione Granger into the hospital wing. She looks dreadful sir. She's muggle-born, so I suspected it was something like that muggle illness. The flu.'
Dumbledore nodded. 'I see. Continue.'
'Well, I came to her this morning, and she looked horrible. Very pale. I noticed also, that she had a gash on her face. And I asked her where she got it. She said she'd had a dream, and a branch slapped against her face, or something like that. And the scar was there.'
Dumbledore said nothing, he just looked at her, politely puzzled.
'Professor. I think Miss Granger has Kedua Syndrome.'
Professor Dumbledore nodded at this, and frowned. He began pacing up and down his room, then he turned and said 'Remind me, Poppy. What happens with this syndrome?'
'Well, sufferers tend to be pure-bloods, so why she's got it, I don't know. But it seems as though it's a muggle illness. They recover from the muggle symptoms after about 2 weeks, but one thing remains. They keep getting strange dreams, and they'll get beaten up according to what happens in the dream. Only one other muggle-born person has ever gotten it before. He couldn't recover, and he dreamt his own death.'
Dumbledore turned sharply at this. 'What's the cure for this illness?'
Madam Pomfrey looked down. 'Well.it's a mental illness as well as a physical one. It's usually very powerful witches and wizards that get it.'
'I cannot deny that miss Granger has the potential to be very powerful. Continue.'
'And they need something. Two things actually. One for herself, and one for.the world. The person that died from this disease needed someone to come back from the dead, but of course that can't happen. He dreamt himself drinking poison, I think.'
'Ahh. Right. Well we'll have to monitor these dreams she's having then. How long was it until this other case died?'
'About a year after she first got the disease. The dreams progress. They're virtually impossible to translate at first. When it progresses a bit though, it becomes clear what they need.'
'Ahh. Right. I suppose there is nothing we can really do but wait then.'
'Wait? But, Professor . . . what if it's too late?'
Dumbledore patted Madam Pomfrey's arm comfortingly. 'Don't worry. I'll make sure she doesn't die. I'll get Minerva to bring Mr Potter and Mr Weasley to me. They ought to be aware of this. Don't tell Miss Granger yet though.I don't think she needs this on her mind while she's recovering from the muggle symptoms. Thank you for seeing me about this Poppy.'
'No. . . no problem Professor.'
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Harry and Rom had just been down to the Potions dungeon to collect Hermione's homework. Snape sneered at them to tell her that the detentions will continue once she's well again, and 10 points were off Gryffindor for her getting sick at such a stupid time.
'God,' said Ron, when they were outside. 'The nerve of him. It's not Gryffindor's fault Hermione got sick. It's not even Hermione's fault. He's such a *censored*.
'Now now Ron,' replied Harry. 'Hermione wouldn't want you saying something like that.' He carefully tucked the piece of parchment Snape had given him into his backpack. 'What have we got next?'
'Another free. It would be Ancient Runes for Hermione.'
'We ought to get that homework too.'
Just then, they heard a door slam. Harry and Ron turned to see Professor McGonagall walking quickly towards them.
'Mr Potter, Mr Weasley. Professor Dumbledore needs to see you.'
'What?' said Ron suddenly, getting worried. 'What have we done, Professor?'
'You haven't done anything Mr Weasley. This concerns Miss Granger,' replied the teacher.
Harry and Ron looked at each other, scared, as they followed Professor McGonagall to the Gargoyle behind which Professor Dumbledore's office lurked.
'Honeydukes!' said Professor McGonagall. The gargoyle sprang open and Professor McGonagall shooed Harry and Ron up it, then said goodbye and left down the corridor as Harry and Ron were carried up to the Principal.
Professor McGonagall stood there, and smiled at the pair of them.
'Welcome Harry, Ron.'
'Professor!' said Harry. 'We were sent here by Professor McGonagall. She said it was something to do with Hermione. What is it?'
'Yes. Miss Granger was emitted into the hospital wing last night. Correct?'
'Yes,' replied Harry, impatiently.
'Well, she had a dream last night, and in it, she got hit by a branch. When she woke up, the scar from the branch was there.'
Harry looked at Ron, wide-eyed. Ron stared steadily at Professor Dumbledore. 'What does that mean, Professor?' he asked.
Dumbledore sighed, then sat down on his chair. 'Madam Pomfrey believes that Hermione has Kedua Syndrome.'
Harry and Ron looked at each either. Neither of them had the FOGGIEST-
'It means,' continued Dumbledore, 'That Hermione will recover from her muggle symptoms fine. But she won't lose her ability to hurt herself in her dreams. Not unless a cue is found through dream-translating.'
Harry and Ron looked at each other, shocked. Hermione had the ability to hurt herself in her dreams. They'd never heard of something like this before.
'Can she hurt other people professor?'
'No, she can only hurt herself. Research has shown, however, that other people can sense exactly what the sufferer means.'
'I don't understand, Professor,' said Harry quietly.
'The only way of curing this part of the illness,' said Dumbledore. 'Is to find out what Hermione needs. The illness arrises from too main needs. One that's personal, and one that effects a lot of people. Once both of them are recovered, Hermione will be as well.'
'And,' said Ron slowly, taking it all in. 'We need to have a look at Hermione's dreams. . . in order to find out what she needs.'
'Precisely,' said the Professor. 'At the moment though, it will be very hard to translate the dreams, because they'd only be very vague. It will take about 2 months for the dreams to have any sort of significant meaning.
'I must insist,' he continued, 'That you do not tell Miss Granger about this just yet.'
'What?' said Harry. 'We can't do that. She has a right to know.she's the person suffering.'
'Yes Harry.I do wish for you to tell her. . . but do you really think she's going to recover easily from her muggle symptoms if she's got that on her mind?'
Harry looked down at the ground, and nodded sadly. Ron was still standing quite upright. 'Professor?' he asked. 'Has anyone ever died from this illness before?'
'Only one person on record. His needs weren't met in time, and he dreamt that he was drinking poison.'
Harry and Ron cringed at that. Harry had gone quite pale at the thought of Hermione drinking poison in her sleep.
'I strongly advise you two not to worry. It was a year after this case first got the illness that he died. His need couldn't be met. We will make sure, however, that Hermione's needs are met, when we find out what they are.
'I had another reason for calling you both here. It only saddens me that Miss Granger isn't here to hear this. I got a letter from Remus Lupin this morning.'
Their ears pricked up. 'Oh really?' said Harry. 'What did it say?'
'Well, I was getting to that. He says that Percy's moving back to the Burrow tomorrow, and attending his first meeting in Grimmauld place tomorrow evening.'
'Well, that's nice. I'll have to make sure Hermione knows that. I'll drop by the hospital wing before quidditch practise.'
'Jolly good!' said Dumbledore. 'I'll see you two later then.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Hermione was lying on her bed, thinking about a song her mother use to love.before.
There are places I remember, All my life, though some have changed, Some forever not for better, Some have gone, and some remain, All these places have their moments, With lovers and friends I still can recall, Some are dead and some are living, In my life, I've loved them all,
But of all these friends and lovers, There is no-one, compares with you, And these memories lose their meaning, When I think of love, as something new, Though I know I'll never lose affection, For people and things, that went b4, I know I'll often stop and think about them, In my life I love you more.
Though I know I'll never lose affection, For people and things that went before, I know I'll often stop and think about them In my life, I love you more,
In my life, I love you more.
(A/N: Yes, a Beatles song, but it WILL have relevance.)
Her mum use to sing it to herself whenever she was sad. Hermione always presumed it sort of comforted her from how life was. Hermione wasn't sure why she was thinking about it. She missed having her mother, she presumed.
It's so unfair, she thought to herself. How come some evil family, like Malfoy's family, have never had something seriously bad ever happen to them, whereas people, like Harry, and Neville, and me, who want to do some good in the world, have things like this happen to them.
She thought about her parents. They'd been emitted to St. Mungo's as soon as Hermione got there and found them wandering around in the house cluelessly. She supposed they were in the same conditions as Neville's parents: Closed off, with Nurses analysing them, trying to make them remember, and recognise her. She'd be visiting them at Christmas of course. Gee, she thought to herself. That'll be cheerful tidings. She closed her eyes, and began to doze off again.
She was now in a dark room. She was searching for something again. She felt something brush against her leg.
'Crookshanks?' she said. 'Is that you?'
Suddenly Hermione heard a hiss, then something sharp seared across her arm. She howled, and woke up with a start.
She could see her hand covering her arm. She removed her arm and saw a huge scratch there.
She sighed, took out her wand and repaired the scratch. She'd also mended the scar from that morning. Simple things like that were easy. She learnt the spells from practise N.E.W.T. papers. She thought this very peculiar. She had no idea she was self-harming in her sleep. She thought it very peculiar.or at least she tried to think it. She found it hard though.it hurt to think.
She had a day of sleeping and waking, pretty much. She woke up again at 6.00 in the evening, presumably when Harry and Ron were out testing for their chaser. Hmm, she thought, checking her watch.
Someone entered the room. Hermione pretended to be asleep.
'That doesn't work for me Granger. I have Head-related news.'
'Malfoy. Am I having another nightmare?'
'That was pathetic Granger. You need to do better then that next time.'
Hermione opened her eyes, and forced herself up (with a great deal of effort). She magicked herself a glass of water, and forced herself to look at him.
Was it her imagination, or did he not have his usual sneer? Obviously it was her imagination, because it was right back again the second he looked directly at her.
'What's this Head news?'
'Aww.no 'Hi Draco, how nice to see you.'
'Malfoy, seeing you is no pleasure of mine. Now what's this news?'
'Well, you know how it's Halloween in two months time, and we usually have the feast?'
'Yeah.'
'Well, Professor Dumbledore said to me, that perhaps you and I ought to use our imaginations with it, and see if we can organise something a little bit different for the special occasion.'
Hermione nodded. 'Sounds all right to me. What kind of thing were you thinking about?'
'Something like a dance, I reckon. I'd suggest it for Christmas, but a lot of people, including me, aren't going to be at school then.'
'Or me,' she added, half-heartedly.
Malfoy opened his mouth, like he was going to elaborate, but decided against it.
'Well, I suppose we can talk about it when you're recovered from.what's this muggle disease you've got?'
'Flu, I think. Madam Pomfrey hasn't actually told me what it is.'
'Hmm.what's it involve?'
'High temperature, headaches, hallucinating.well, hallucinating I'm presuming, because I'm having a civilised conversation with someone I don't like very much.
Malfoy shook his head at that. 'Why do you hate me so Granger?'
She thought about that question. She thought about all the times he'd been horrible to her, about his constant bullying towards Hagrid, begin all teachers-petty towards Professor Umbridge in 5th year. . .
'There are many reasons why Malfoy.'
Malfoy looked at her critically for a second. 'You know that muggle business all the muggles fight about. . . what is it. . . reliagon?'
'Religion. Yeah, what about it?'
'Doesn't that teach forgiveness?'
Hermione was puzzled at what he said. 'I guess. . . I've never really been into religion. . . wait.' It was her turn to look at Malfoy critically. 'Are you begging me for forgiveness Malfoy? I never knew you had that in you.'
Malfoy clutched a hand to his heart. 'Granger, you insult me, thinking that I would beg for something like that.'
Hermione kept quiet, inviting Malfoy to explain himself just a tad more.
'Remember detention the other day Granger? Remember what I said? We have to be, basically, partners, for this whole year. I don't ask you to forgive me for things that, mostly, I don't really regret having in the resume that is my life-'
Hermione snorted at this.
'I just ask for acceptance. I can't help who I am Granger. Not for the most part. I am a pure-blood. I have been raised to believe that the Dark Lord's principles are correct. And in some ways, I still believe that they are, despite the fact that I'm not evil any more-'
'Malfoy,' Hermione interrupted. 'How can you claim that you're not evil, and yet still believe some of the principles Voldemort teaches?'
Malfoy considered that. 'Granger. The principles of the Dark Lord are that if you surrender to him and obey him, you will gain power. I still believe that. If you follow the dark lord, you will gain power, and a lot of it. I don't believe, however, that it is necessarily nice power. . . and I don't believe that having this power won't lead to future regrets.'
Hermione considered that. It seemed quite sensible, she presumed. But she found it so hard to believe that Malfoy was willing to basically repent. This is MALFOY, for Christ's sake.
'The problem with a lot of you goodie-goodies,' continued Malfoy. 'Is that you're all so racist against people who have ever had any connections to the Dark Lord, you are unwilling to think that they might be willing to change. You think only those who are born to your side are truly trustworthy. That's why you all don't seem to trust Snape.'
Hermione leaned closer to Hermione then. Those eyes were really boring into her.
'Isn't it, Granger?'
Hermione didn't reply. She just pushed him away.
'I'm contagious.'
Malfoy snorted at that. 'Likely. Anyway, here's my proposition. You don't have to forgive me, and god forbid it because I don't want you to forgive me. You just have to learn to accept me. . . and learn to live with me. Because, when you think about it Granger, we're stuck with each other for a very, very long time.'
With that, Malfoy left.
You know, a voice in Hermione said to her, as she began to doze off again. For an absolute prick of a person, he does have quite a bit of wisdom.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
OK guys, some things in this chappie I'm sure are a bit weird, but they will mean something in future . . . you guys gotta admit I'm good . . . I managed to write a new chapter, and do laundry, and watch weird movie 6 times, all in a day. To tell me how fabulous I am, please review. Reviewing could also be used for telling me that no, I suck, and I should stop bragging. Anything, anything at all, click on that handy box below that says REVIEW!