Remoror Carbasus
Prologue
Disclaimer: I do not own nor am I affiliated with JK Rowling or the many publishers of the Harry Potter books.
Hermione opened her eyes suddenly to see the kitchen of Grimmauld Place. Molly Weasley sat at the table; her plump cheeks rosy with despair and her eyes holding back unshed tears. "Is he alright Dumbledore?" she asked, her voice cracking as she looked over to where Dumbledore sat, examining a figure that was lain on a small cot in one corner. "The explosion just knocked him unconscious Molly. He'll be fine," he replied, his voice sounding more aged than Hermione had ever remembered hearing it.
Though she had no more than thought about moving closer to where Dumbledore was sitting, she found herself creeping slowly toward the musky corner, a distant voice warning her to stay in the shadows. Hermione heard footsteps pounding—footsteps that should have been coming from where she was; yet she had no control over where she was going.
As Hermione came closer to the figure she noticed the dark hair that the person possessed, and then her eyes rested on a single lightening bolt scar on the center of the boy's forehead. She gasped, "Harry!" A gasp, much like her own, but much deeper left what she had thought was her body, alerting the room of her presence. She froze as Remus Lupin's hand reached out towards her and grabbed at what looked like air. In one sweeping movement, his hand was back at his side, an invisibility cloak clutched in his balled hand. Hermione panicked. What was going on? Why did her dream feel so real? And why wouldn't her body respond to her brain's command to pinch her self so she could wake up from this awful nightmare?
Mrs. Weasley's face came back into view, this time etched with anger. She glared intently at Hermione, looking close to murder. "Fred Weasley! What do you think you're doing in here?" she roared. Hermione let out a small squeal. Why was she calling her Fred?
"Mum, I can explain—" She heard the male voice(now identified as that of Fred Weasley) respond from where she was supposed to be standing.
"Get out of here now Fred! I'll deal with you later," Mrs. Weasley interjected, silent anger apparent in her voice. As Fred's body turned to leave the room, Hermione bolted up right in bed.
Hermione's breathing was labored as she regained composure and awareness of her surroundings. She was in her bed, covered in her lilac comforter and the soft classical music that she fell asleep to every night was softly playing in the background. She took a deep breath, reassuring herself that it was just a dream.
She had almost succeeded in convincing herself that her dream was completely fictional when a loud pop placed a rather frightened looking Fred Weasley in the middle of her room. His breathing was almost as heavy as hers had been as he spoke. "What the hell just happened?"