Chapter 7: Bad Dreams
A/N: Although I just updated Sunday, once the writer's block I was suffering from crumbled, the muse simply wouldn't leave me. I had to keep going,… and going. For those that are keeping track, this is the longest chapter yet, and I hope it is just as good as the rest. Enjoy!
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Relieved that Hermione had finally left, Harry got out of the tub and dried off. As he was drying his hair, the realization of what Hermione had subjected him to came back straightaway. His anger over the situation grew more and more with each mental replay of the whole scene. 'What in the bloody hell was she playing, pulling a stunt like that. She may be my best friend, but there are limits! What would she say if I tried to pull the same stunt on her? She'd call me a deranged pervert! That's what!'
Harry continued brooding as he brushed his teeth, combed his hair, and got dressed. (Luckily he remembered to bring his clothes into the bathroom with him. Under normal circumstances, he would just wrap a towel around himself and get dressed in his room.) He returned to his room and unceremoniously flopped on his freshly made bed. He rested his head on top of his hands and stared up the ceiling. He knew every crack, speckle and flake of the plaster above his bed, but he wasn't concentrating on it. He was content to just thoughtlessly stare and let his mind lose focus. The less he thought, the less guilt he felt. Reliving every tragic event of his life at night when he slept was bad enough. He needed at least some time away from the grief that he felt for all that had happened in his past.
Harry heard Hermione come back up the stairs and traipse down the hall. She stood in the doorway briefly, but he didn't react. Disappointed by his lack of response, she entered the room cautiously and placed the small platter she was carrying on Harry's desk. She moved the chair that Harry had been sitting in earlier close to his bed and sat down.
"Harry?" she addressed him cautiously. This time his lack of a reply only frustrated her. "Come on, Harry. I thought we were talking."
"Is that what you call it?" he said dully without changing his focus.
By his tone, she had a pretty good idea of what was to come. "Yes. You actually started to talk to me."
He turned his body away from her as he sat up on the bad with his feet dangling off the side. He turned his head slightly so that he could see her out of the corner of his eye. "Strange. It felt like an interrogation to me," he responded crossly before getting to his feet.
"I realize it was a little unconventional, but you needed to talk to someone." She knew as soon as the words left her mouth that she had probably said the wrong thing.
Harry spun around and leaned over the bed, his hands on the mattress. "Don't you think it should be up to me to decide when I should talk?!" He got the small satisfaction of seeing her wince at his rebuttal. "Don't you think I would talk to you about things if I wanted to? Hmm? Next time, why don't you make Scotland Yard proud and just tie me to a chair and shine a bright light in my eyes?"
Harry's remarks had made his point all too well. She lowered her head into her hands and cried as her body wracked with sobs. "I'm sorry, Harry. I just wanted to help. You need to talk about it, and I just… I just thought that I could get things started," she replied as she continued to weep into her hands.
This reaction was not what he had expected. He wanted to get her angry so that they'd get into a good row. Maybe that way she would decide to leave him alone and go home, thus she would be safe. He hadn't wanted her to cry. Without hesitation, he launched himself over the bed and sat directly in front of her, and enveloped her protectively in his arms then stroked her hair soothingly with one hand. "I'm sorry, Hermione. That was entirely uncalled for."
She had stopped crying so heavily and Harry pulled her face from his shoulder to look at her properly. He placed both of his hands on her cheeks and wiped away her tears with his thumbs. "You're my friend, and I shouldn't bite your head off like that."
She nodded in agreement. "Its okay, Harry. I understand."
"No, it's not okay, Hermione," he replied sympathetically, "I am really, really sorry. I've just got a lot of things on my mind right now, and I'm having a difficult time dealing with them. It's not your fault, and I shouldn't take it out on you. Now what did you want to talk about?"
The young woman took a few seconds to regain her composure before speaking. After drawing a deep breath and exhaling audibly, she turned her attention to the platter on the desk and said, "Well, why don't we eat something first? I made some sandwiches." She grabbed one and handed it to her companion. She then passed him a can of soda. He accepted gratefully, and the two ate in relative silence for the next couple of minutes. Hermione finished her sandwich first and took a pull from her glass to finish the meal. She placed her empty can on the desk.
She put her hands on his knees, which seemed to take him by surprise as he started slightly, "Harry, I apologize for interrogating you like that. It was wrong of me to impose on you. I should've respected your privacy. I know there were times in the past when something was on your mind but didn't talk about it right away. When you were ready though, you always came to me to talk about it. I should've waited. It's just that I'm just really worried about you. I've never seen you act this way. Do you understand?"
"Yeah, I guess so. This past year has been the roughest one I've ever had to deal with. And with my history, that's saying something." He looked at her with a sideways glance as he said the last sentence and his mouth turned upwards in a grin trying to inject a little humor.
Hermione gave a sniff and a brief chuckle in response. "Yeah, I guess you're right." She grabbed his hands that were currently in his lap and looked up at him. "Just promise me that you'll talk to me when you're ready. Alright?"
He looked at her thankfully, "You have my word on it."
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The two made small talk over the next couple of hours while playing exploding snap. They talked about school, OWL's, Quidditch (although she made sure that subject had a relatively short life,) and who might be taking up the vacant Defense Against the Dark Arts post. They both made several guesses at the last topic, but each subsequent guess seemed to be more farfetched.
After the most recent game had finished, Harry stretched and yawned deeply. Hermione looked at her watched and was surprised to see that it was only 8:30. "Are you really that tired, Harry?"
Harry had stopped stretching but yawned again as he answered, "Yeah. I guess I haven't really been sleeping all that well lately."
Hermione leaned toward him and instantly went into to her motherly mode, "Oh, Harry. Why didn't you tell about that?"
Harry waved his hand dismissively, "It's alright. Like I said, I've had a lot on my mind lately. It's no big deal."
She looked at him suspiciously, but eventually decided to drop it. They both stood, and she gave him another hug, this time holding him slightly longer than what would be considered friendly before separating. He immediately missed the feeling of her warmth. "Okay, but I'll be in the next room if you need me." And with that she went to her adopted bedroom and pulled the door closed to get dressed for bed. Likewise, Harry went to the bathroom to start his own evening routine.
After brushing his teeth using the loo, he returned and opened the window wide enough for Hedwig to come and go as she pleased. He opened her cage, and the owl flew off into the evening sky. He then stripped down to his boxers, as it was going to be another warm evening and slid under his covers. After placing his eyeglasses on the nightstand, he turned off his lamp. For the first time in what seemed like a long time, Sirius wasn't the first thing on his mind as he tried to go to sleep.
Unbeknownst to the pair of them, Albus Dumbledore was rattling off various incantations from the front sidewalk as he checked the status of the wards over the house.
"Most excellent. Sleep well, my young friends," he said as he left with a soft pop.
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The rare, restful sleep that Harry had been enjoying for the past several hours was obviously at its end. His arms began flailing. He tossed and turned under the sheets as he began mumbling in his sleep.
'Good evening, Potter. How good to see you again,' an evil voice started him.
'No…' muttered Harry in disbelief.
'Yes indeed, Potter. You've been so busy in your own pleasant dreams that I felt it would be rude of me to interrupt,' Harry heard as he looked around a large stone sitting room. He was obviously sitting in a soft armchair that faced a large fireplace. He had trouble seeing anything else, as the fire was the only source of light in the room. He looked down and saw the sallow skin and abnormally long fingers that he knew belonged to the Dark Lord.
'Just leave me alone, you bastard.'
'Tut tut. I know we haven't spoken for sometime, Potter, but where are your manners? Surely you wouldn't talk like that to your precious mudblood friend. If I'm not mistaken, you are entertaining her as your guest. Am I right?'
'No! Leave her alone! Just leave her alone!! It's me you want!'
'It seems I've touched a nerve, haven't I? She should be privy to our conversation. We wouldn't want to keep this to ourselves.' Harry watched as the Dark Lord waved his wand, and Hermione appeared in her nightshirt on the rug in front of them.'
Harry was utterly shocked at this and tentatively called out to her, 'Her...Hermione?'
'Harry?'
The Dark Lord gave a cruel chuckle, 'How good of you to join our little private party, mudblood. Your dear Mr. Potter and I were just speaking of you. I thought it rude of him not to invite you, so I thought you might like to be a part of the festivities. CRUCIO!'
Harry could only watch for what seemed like an eternity as his friend writhed in pain of the floor in front of him. Voldemort eventually lifted his wand and released the curse.
'Did you enjoy that mudblood?' When no answer came, the Dark Lord continued. 'Too bad, Bella seems to rather enjoy it. It excites her so. Did that light the fire of lust in you, little girl?' Harry's mouth just didn't seem to want to work. His breath was caught in his throat and he couldn't speak. ' Awww, pity. We could have such a wonderful time together. CRUCIO!'
Hermione convulsed again under the pain caused by the Cruciatus Curse. This time Harry's voice broke through. 'Stop it! Stop it, you sick fuck!' he screamed.
Voldemort lifted the curse, if only in amusement. 'My, my, do I sense a bit of jealousy. You know, I could make dance for the both of us. I'm not selfish.'
Harry's anger and outrage toward his foe began building. 'YOU…WILL…NOT…TOUCH…HER!'
The resulting explosion from his magic shook the house and abruptly woke him from his dream. Harry's scar felt like it was on fire, but he paid it no mind. He had to make sure that Hermione was safe. He quickly tried to untangle himself from his bed sheets and walked unsteadily down the hall to his aunt and uncle's room. Without bothering to knock, he waved his hand at the door, and it was thrown aside off its hinges.
The young woman was in the same nightshirt he saw in his dream. She was sweating profusely and shaking violently. He sat down at her bedside and shook her shoulder gently to wake her. "Hermione." When she didn't wake, he shook her more fiercely, "Hermione! Hermione! Wake up!"
Her eyelids opened slowly as she took in her surroundings, "Harry?"
"I'm here. It's okay."
Hermione awoke fully and launched herself into Harry's arms and shook uncontrollably as she cried. He lay down with her in the bed on top of the covers as he held her close to comfort her. "Oh, Harry. I was so scared. I was in a dark room with Voldemort, and he was putting me under the Cruciatus Curse. You were there somewhere. I heard him taunting you."
"I know, 'Mione. I know. I was there in the dream with you. He brought you in to try to get to me."
Hermione stopped crying when logic kicked in, "What…what do you mean you were with me?" she asked skeptically.
Harry took a deep breath, sat up on the bed and tried to explain the situation as best he could, "I mean that Voldemort entered my mind and was feeding me a dream. It seems he managed to pull you in as well. I'm not sure how…"
CRACK!
At the foot of the bedroom stood a very alert Alastor Moody with wand drawn in a very defensive posture. Hermione yanked the covers up tight over her, and Harry fell off the bed as a result of both surprise and the sudden pulling of the sheets.
"Professor Moody! What are you doing here?" shrieked Hermione.
Moody scanned the room with both his magical blue eye and his normal one before answering them. "Potter! What was the true identity of my imposter-self when I taught at the Hogwarts?"
"Barty Crouch," Harry answered immediately.
Moody swung his wand around and pointed it at Harry. "Which one?"
"Junior."
Moody then trained his wand on Hermione, "Granger! What was Sirius Black's animagus name?"
"Snuffles," she answered.
Moody relaxed his guard and took a deep breath. "What in Merlin's name happened here, Potter?"
Harry got to his feet and sat back down on the bed. "We just awoke from a nightmare. That's all. I came to Hermione's room to make sure she was okay," Harry replied lightly in an attempt to diffuse the situation.
"No, no, no. I mean the magical power spikes."
"Huh?"
"We read two definite spikes at this location. The first shook the ground for miles. The muggles thought it was an earthquake or something. Matter of fact, it measured a four on their Richter scale. The second, I'm guessing, took out this door."
Harry stared, slack jawed, at Moody and then looked at the door directly behind them. After noting the door was cracked in several places and was being held up by one hinge, he turned his puzzled gaze back to Moody. "I did that?"
"That would be my guess, Potter. Where is your wand?"
"It's still in my school trunk, I think."
"Really?" answered the retired auror with a toothy grin. "I'll have to let Albus know about this one. I'm guessing he might decide to drop by tomorrow. Until then, keep tabs on your magic, kid." Moody then repaired the door with a wave of his wand and then stopped before trying to apparate away. "Since you didn't use your wand, it'll be considered accidental magic. I'll notify the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad that I've already taken care of it."
Harry nodded his understanding
"Remember, both of you, CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" the old auror said as he disappeared with another crack.
The silence that followed Moody's noisy departure was a little uneasy. The two looked at each other with dumbfounded expressions, then both turned beet red. It had finally dawned on them that they were scarcely dressed, which made the lack of sound all the more unnerving. Hermione finally found her voice when her brain re-engaged.
"How… how did he do that Harry? I mean, how did I get in your dream like that?"
"I don't know, Hermione. I'm really not sure. Voldemort's always had a connection with me, but I've never heard of a shared dream like that. He did say that he knew that you were here. If I had to guess, I'd say he pulled you in through me." Hermione shuddered at the memory of her dream, and the realization of what Harry just said hit him full force. The guilt he felt for subjecting her to that washed over him. "I'm sorry, Hermione. It's my fault. I let him get to you. I…"
"Harry, it's not your fault. Voldemort did this. If anything, you saved me from further harm." Her breath hitched as momentarily before continuing, and he saw her eyes moisten. She wrapped her arms around his torso and rested her head on his chest. He pulled her into a soft hug while placing his chin on the top of her head. "He was… he was going to do…things. I could see it in his eyes, and I don't know that I could've done anything to stop him. So don't beat yourself up over it. You stopped him Harry. That's all I could ask for."
Harry's tone was quiet as he interjected, "I understand, but you wouldn't have been there at all if it weren't for me."
Hermione pulled away and looked up to him. "I already know the answer for my part, but let me ask you a question. And I want your honest answer."
"Alright."
Her soft brown eyes shimmered with unshed tears as she asked, "If you had a choice between me being here where you could watch over me and know that I was safe or have me at home, knowing that I could be attacked at any given moment, which would you choose?"
That question; that one, simple question drove it all home for Harry. He understood completely. She was here because she cared. She was here because she was worried about him. And if he was honest with himself, he felt better knowing that she was here with him where he could personally watch over her. They may not be in the safest place in the world, but that fact she was right here in front of him assured him that she was indeed safe. It put his mind at ease.
Without an immediate answer, he saw her face begin show apprehension. He cupped her cheeks in his hands, and his own face broke in a warm, heartfelt smile—one that he hadn't really felt in a long time. In a move that he would reflect on with surprise later, he brought himself down and placed a tender but brief kiss on her lips. He wrapped her in another hug before answering in her ear, "If those were my choices, then I'd rather you were here with me. At least I would feel that I was doing something to protect you and keep you safe."
Hermione eyes overflowed with tears at his answer, and she kissed his bare shoulder. "I know. That was the same I answer I would've given you."
They both pulled back tentatively as soft brown eyes locked with bright emerald green ones before Hermione spoke again softly, "Good. I'm glad we got that settled." They both shared a smile again in response.
"Right then, I should let you get back to sleep then. You've had a rough night, and you need to rest," Harry said as he started to rise from the bed.
He stopped in his tracks when she grabbed his hand. He looked down to see her face shown of sheer terror. "Harry, please don't go."
"Hermione," he answered tentatively, "I really don't know if I should stay. I mean… you know." He looked down at his current wardrobe and blushed profusely at the unsaid meaning of his statement. But Hermione's expression didn't change, if anything she looked more worried as she was now biting her lower lip.
"Please," she begged. "I just don't want to be alone. You understand." She pulled her hand away and pulled the sheets down. She patted the area next to her and looked at him hopefully. "Don't worry, Harry. I trust you to be a gentleman."
He took a deep breath and returned her gaze, "Alright, I understand." The corners of his mouth rolled up in a sly grin, "Although after what you pulled in the bathroom earlier, I don't know if I should trust you."
She punched him lightly on the arm for his flippantness as he got into bed beside her. She rolled away from him and settled down to sleep. "Goodnight, Harry."
"Goodnight, 'Mione."
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A/N: Please read and review. The reviews helped to get this chapter up quickly. Thanks to all that left reviews for the previous chapter. I try to reply to all signed reviews.