Author's Notes: Oops, got my dates mixed up. Last chapter should've been the 3rd of December. I've fixed it now though.
Hope everyone had a Merry Christmas and/or Happy Holidays! I'm looooving my break!
I've had the idea for this chapter for a while...hopefully everyone enjoys it. I've also taken some liberties with the Hogwarts school system and their holidays, for plot device purposes. Term ends on a Wednesday, 5 days before Christmas, because I say so. I wish I had that kind of power over my own school's holiday break scheduling, but alas, I'll have to be content with changing Hogwarts'.
Saturday…9 December?
Something a.m.
I can barely write…I'm shaking so badly…
Writing helps…breathe slowly…stop shaking…calm down…it was just a dream. Just a dream, just a dream, just a dream.
Okay…calmer now…just a dream…
I just had the most horrible nightmare. At first I couldn't even remember what it was about…I only knew that I was screaming and panicked and scared and my heart was beating so hard I could hear it in my ears. Then it started coming back in little bits and pieces that weren't in chronological order… Lucius Malfoy laughing… coming home for Christmas holiday…Mum and Dad lying on the kitchen floor…Umbridge with her clipboard…and then all of the sudden the little bits all came together in order and I started panicking again because it was so vivid that for a few seconds I was sure it really had happened.
I had come home for Christmas holiday, and when I walked into the front hall Mum and Dad weren't there to greet me, which I thought was odd, so I walked around the house calling them…then I walked into the kitchen…
Writing helps, writing helps, writing helps…and they were…lying on the floor…and they…weren't moving and they looked so pale and still…I've never seen a dead person before, not even on television because I always cover my eyes at those parts during films, but I knew they…they were dead…all stiff and pale but their eyes were still open and all glazed…oh, it was awful, awful, awful…and it wasn't Avada Kadavra, because there was blood on the floor everywhere, and it was seeping into the cracks between the tiles…
Oh, I feel sick…I can't write about that part anymore…
And Umbridge was there with her clipboard, making notes. And she shook her head and said, "Well if they'd learned the theory well enough, they should have been able to protect themselves," and Lucius Malfoy was standing near the sink laughing, his wand still out and pointed at Mum and Dad, and then he shrunk slightly and his hair got shorter and then he was Draco, still laughing. Then Draco pointed his wand at me and started walking towards me, still laughing Lucius' laugh, and then I started screaming and suddenly I was sitting up in my bed at Hogwarts, really screaming. I clapped my hands over my mouth to stop screaming and just sat there for a few minutes, breathing hard, trying to get my wits about me, and trying to remember what I was screaming about. Once I'd calmed down a bit more I fumbled in the dark for my journal, which was sitting on my nightstand, and then muttered Lumos and started writing because writing helps. I'm already much, much calmer now, although still a bit jittery.
Amazingly, neither Parvati nor Lavender so much as stirred during this. In fact, Lavender just started snoring quite peacefully.
Okay, I've calmed down considerably. That dream was simply awful, though…probably the worst nightmare I've ever had. I don't know what could have caused it…I haven't even thought about Death Eaters on Arbour Court since the summer, when we were talking about the Boggart in Grimmauld Place. School's been distracting, and I'd almost forgotten what the real purpose of the DA was. It's so much fun and it feels more like a resistance to Umbridge now than training to defend ourselves from Voldemort.
You know, I only wrote Mum and Dad a very short letter in response to the one they wrote me a fortnight ago. I feel absolutely horrible now. I'm going to write them a nice, long letter first thing in the morning. Maybe the dream was just the product of a guilty conscience since the last letter I wrote was so short and to-the-point. Or maybe I'm just stressed out with school stuff and that got me all subconsciously riled up and -
Wait. I am psychoanalyzing my dream. I am not going to psychoanalyze my dream. I am going to forget about it and go back to sleep.
…Oh, it's no good, I can't go back to sleep now. Not with Lavender snoring like that, anyway. Perhaps I'll go down to the common room for a bit…
4:50 a.m.
I don't really talk to Harry that much one-on-one…not about serious stuff, anyways. It's either the three of us together talking, or just Ron and I talking (usually worriedly about Harry), or Ron and Harry talking, because they're both boys and they share a dormitory and all. But sometimes Harry and I will have a serious "talk" - maybe not with so much actual speaking, per se, but…Harry just understands certain things. He doesn't say much, but what he does say makes you feel so much better. Did that make any sense?
I went down to the common room as quietly as possible, journal in hand, planning to just sit by the fire and try to relax and maybe get drowsy so that I could go back upstairs and fall asleep. I always get drowsy if I sit just so in the best armchair by the fire, so I figured it was worth a shot. But when I got down there, someone was already in the best armchair by the fireplace. The fire had actually died out and was just a pile of dully glowing embers by that indecent hour of the night.
"Harry?"
Harry jumped and spun around in his chair. He looked very tired and…I don't know…old. "Hermione?"
"What on earth are you doing up at this hour?" I asked, quickly hiding my journal behind my back.
"I could ask you the same thing," he said defensively.
I didn't really feel like getting into a fight with Harry at four o'clock in the morning, so I didn't snap back at him or anything. I just sighed and sat down in the chair opposite him.
"I had a bad dream," I admitted in a small voice.
Harry chewed his lip and looked at the fireplace again. "Me too," he muttered.
Neither of us said anything for a bit.
"Do you…have bad dreams a lot?" I asked softly after a few moments.
Harry was silent for a moment. He didn't meet my eyes. "All the time," he finally said in a low voice. He looked as if he was going to say something else then, but he didn't. He rubbed his scar and was silent.
We sat in a silence that was strangely comfortable for a few more minutes. I spotted a pair of yellow eyes peering at me from under the sofa, and was quite grateful when Crookshanks appeared and leaped into my lap. I started stroking him absently, feeling comforted by the big, furry animal in my lap. Then quite suddenly, something extremely frightening occurred to me.
"Harry," I said abruptly. "Peter Pettigrew was Ron's rat for three years at Hogwarts."
Harry looked at me blankly. "I know…"
"I mean…I mean that Ron had Scabbers with him a lot…and we talked about a lot of things that…well, Voldemort might…find useful," I said in a frightened whisper. "I mean, I must have mentioned where I live a few times when Scabbers was around…maybe he overheard…maybe that's why the Order picked me up and took me to Grimmauld Place this summer." I was starting to get panicked. "But my parents are at home with no one to protect them…what if they…what if he goes after my parents?"
"The Order won't let that happen," Harry said firmly. That was odd coming from someone who was rather bitter about the organization, mainly because they wouldn't let him join. But for some reason, I felt relieved hearing him say that. Of course, I thought, just because you've been abysmally stupid and never realized it before doesn't mean that Dumbledore hasn't thought of it. And Ron promised…he said his parents wouldn't let anything happen to mine…
"Yes, you're right," I said, taking a deep, calming breath. All the same, I'll be glad to go home for the holidays (end of term is less than a fortnight away…school ends on a Wednesday this year, for some odd reason). I'll just feel better being with Mum and Dad.
Harry gave me a strained smile and then rose from his chair. "I think I'm going to try to get back to bed," he said.
"Yes, that's a good idea," I agreed. "You have to work on that Astronomy assignment tomorrow morning."
Harry groaned, but he grinned wryly. I scooped up Crookshanks in my arms and got up as well. We both headed towards the staircases.
"Night," Harry said. He looked sort of sad and worn out. I gave him a hug, which didn't please Crookshanks, who got squished between us.
"No more bad dreams," I whispered to Harry. Mum used to always say that to me when I was small, after I'd had a nightmare. No more bad dreams was a promise from Mum, and a promise from Mum couldn't be broken, so the bad dreams went away. I don't know why I said it; it's rather silly. But Harry didn't laugh or anything.
"No more bad dreams," Harry agreed as we broke apart. He gave me another faint smile and then headed up the stairs to the boys' dormitories.
Like I said, I feel much, much better now, even though the thing about Wormtail is still bothering me a bit. But Ron promised…he promised his parents wouldn't let anything happen to mine…
Nevertheless, I'm going to write Mum and Dad straight away in the morning. For now, though, I should probably get to sleep.
Oh great, Lavender's started snoring again.
