Hermione

Hermione opened her eyes to the dark. The room was warm.

We will make a sweet dream together

Hermione cast her eyes around wildly. Crookshanks lay sleeping at the foot of her bed. A second later, she found herself floundering in a sea of sheets and blankets. A hand rested upon her forehead and gently soothed her down, back into the sheets. She saw nothing.

"Good evening, Hermione."

"Who is this?" She ventured out from beneath the apple tree that had suddenly appeared above and around her. "Where?"

"You needn't worry about any of that. We're nowhere. I'm yours."

Hermione cast her eyes around again, searching for some kind of body. A crisp Autumn day waited in front of her, but the air did not smell of it. The air smelled like nothing.

"And this is a lovely place you've dreamed. Would you enjoy a lake?"

Bright, rippling water pooled up from nowhere. The lake grew and grew until the sun was just coming up at it's horizon. Or it was setting. Hermione could not tell.

"Where am I?" Hermione asked again.

"You're wherever you want to be. What would you like me to do?"

Hermione hesitated, but then willed a flower to ascend from the middle of the lake. It did. She knew now that this was a very lucid dream, that she somehow controlled. She and someone else…

"Come to me. Be here." She said, trying to sound as if she knew what she was talking about.

"Very well." The voice had suddenly grown to a body as well as a voice.

"What is this?" Hermione asked, somewhat frightened at seeing a man standing in front of her. The man was completely ordinary. There wasn't a single aspect about him that she had found at all interesting.

"This is a dream we create together. It's quite nice, isn't it? We are not limited to your room this way." He stated placidly. He picked an apple from her shade tree and brought it to her. "Eat."

She looked at the fruit skeptically and took it gently from his hand. She grimaced as she took a bite, "It tastes like nothing!" It was as if water had formed to take the shape and texture of an apple, while retaining no taste.

"It is what each of us contribute to this dream. The tree was yours, and the apple was mine. I have accepted that your tree bears fruit. You must accept that the fruit has a sweet, succulent taste, and it will. Try again."

Hermione looked at the apple, and knew the way it should taste. It should be sweet, juicy, and tart to some degree. It's flesh should be somewhat waxy, and that would have it's own taste and contribution to the whole. She took another bite. The flavor burst clearly through her. Then, she knew, the fruit would taste only as she expected it to taste. They could fly if they wanted to.

She looked at him again, and startled at the change in him. His hair was tied back now, and of a dark gold shade, with red streaks. The apple's colors, she thought reflexively.

"I am what you perceive of me. Do you see?" He changed yet again. Hermione noticed that he had suddenly become graceful, like a dancer is graceful. "That, I think, was from picking the apple." He noted, examining himself.

"And I can control what you are?" Hermione asked, somewhat heady with the sudden power.

"To a certain degree. We control this dream equally. Only, I do not want you to assume that we are completely asleep. Or need to be." He explained, "You sleep now, because there is no other way for you to know me yet. But I'm sitting at your bedside now, and watching you."

The thought should have unsettled her, but it didn't. She felt strangely reassured at this stranger's countenance.

She finally put the two thoughts together, "So this is the Visit! I had no idea…You gave me the perfume gems."

He smiled fondly at that, "Did you like them? I made them specifically for you. They suit you."

To see me again, you would like that, wouldn't you? To see me again. Place an object of yours, a personal belonging, on the mantle where I put the Perfume box. I will take it, and I will visit you again. We will make even sweeter dreams than this.

"It is nice to see a clear, crisp day, after so much heat this summer." He stated mildly.

"I would…like to." Hermione whispered, having experienced that message, rather than heard it.

"As would I." He agreed.

"And who are you?"

"Anybody. Whoever or whatever you perceive me to be. That is not to say that I don't have my own personality, but you will see soon enough." He walked gently through a forest that had suddenly appeared around them.

Hermione saw a kitten come toward her, tentatively. She bent down to pick it up, but it hissed and swiped at her. She looked up at the man, who smiled kindly.

"You cannot always make everything pleasant. But you can make things, here. You have a strong mind, Hermione." He picked up that cat and tossed it in the air, where it transformed itself into a bird and flew off across the lake. She watched its progress and eventually noticed him gazing at her intently. Nervous, she thought of something to say.

"What should I call you? I can hardly call you You forever."

"You needn't call me anything yet. You will develop a name for me, and a body. I know you for Hermione, and that is why I chose you. You can choose me to be anything. I can be a father, or a lover, or a son. What do you need?"

Hermione blinked at that, confused. She grinned maliciously as she poked at his offer, "Or a sister? Will you be my sister?"

She could feel his wince, though he was several feet away. "I suppose. It would be very awkward. I would look like a sister, but my attitude would be that of a man's, as would my knowledge. I think it best for you to choose a role than I am …or can be familiar with. I see a ribbon on your desk. Blue, with a small topaz at each end."

She noted that.

"Then, Sir, I'll call you for now. And I wont force you to be my sister, however funny I find it." She giggled and he rolled his eyes, "But I enjoy your company. This has been a strange night."

"Yes, a strange night. I want a favor though, I'm sorry to have to ask. I have not emerged for a very long time, and I wish it to be known that I've kept it that way. So please do not tell anybody about our encounter."

"I think Ginny will know in any case." Hermione stated, trying to think her away around that obstacle.

"But you trust her."

"Yes."

"Trust it. Goodnight, Hermione."

"Wait." She said, inching forward despite herself. She ended up right in front of him, looking up at his desperately ordinary face. "May I kiss you?"

"Kiss?" He asked, somewhat taken aback. "Of course, but I thought you would wait to choose which role…" He trailed off, watching her intent face somewhat uneasily.

She leaned in on tiptoe, bracing her hands on his shoulders, and softly kissed his cheek. Hermione knew, at that moment, what would be waiting on her mantle when he came to Visit again.

"Hermione." He smiled down at her, appreciatively. He placed so much emphasis on her name that it was unnecessary for further words. He weaved a flower through her hair and turned around. She touched the flower, and noted that it was the same one that she had forced to grow out of the lake. It felt leathery under her touch. It had no scent.

Before Hermione could say anything, he was gone, and she was simply there. The dream lasted a moment longer, and then Hermione drifted off into darkness, where true sleep claimed her.

Okay, it was a short chapter, I admit, but it didn't feel right continuing it from the dream Visit. I love this! It's so fun. I hope you all love it too. Once again, I'm still in need of a beta (thanks to those of you who already assumed I have a beta and complimented him/her thusly. smile)

If anybody is offering, please email me at One I would need for grammar, and perhaps one or two just to read it and tell me how they think the story's going.

I'd like to thank those of you who reviewed, and it's really making me look at my story from another point of view. Reviews rock. A lot. Thanks! May I kiss you?

-Jenny