A/N - Hi, everyone! I'm back from the land of the unhappily busy and am wonderfully idle and bursting with ideas! Hehe. Sorry I haven't updated for so long. Now I've even forgotten what Elfinmaiden said in the reviews, but I'll give her a break this time. Let her say whatever she wants. (Please thank me, m'deah.) Anyway, this chapter might be a little weird, 'cause I wrote it over the course of two days and my moods changed (obviously), so during the first part I was in a sort of thoughtful mood and later I was in a hurry to finish, 'cause I have to get up early (9 a.m., and, no, I am NOT a morning person!) tomorrow. I hope it's good; you'll have to tell me. So please read and review and enjoy! Life's good.

Chapter 17 – A Premonition and a Prophecy

Hermione woke with a start. She had had a strange, puzzling dream. As she rubbed her aching head, she struggled to cling on to the memories of it, but they were already growing faint.

A dark house...a sudden illuminating light...a loud thud...the diminishing of the darkness...

No, that was when the dream had finished. There had been something before that; a feeling, a memory...

A face appeared before the light, with chiselled features set in a grim, focussed expression. The owner of the face crouched low before the light with a determined countenance and slowly pulled out a wand from his robes. An expectant silence reigned for a few moments and then suddenly everything was a blur. Loud crashing noises could be heard and movement could be felt. A too-cold breeze blew in and disrupted things further. The noise, movement and breeze culminated suddenly in a loud thud and complete darkness.

Hermione quickly grabbed a sheet of parchment and a quill and jotted down all she remembered. It was a habit she had adopted in recent years when she had realised she had premonitions in the form of dreams. They were a very rare occurrence, though, and could be recognized by a certain feeling that Hermione couldn't describe. She had felt that feeling in this dream and she knew it was significant.

After she had noted the happenings in the dream, she wrote down her feelings during each of the events. When she had finished, she frowned. The dream didn't seem to make any sense.

Dark house – recognition, déja vu, finality and relief

Face – recognition, trust, partnership, protectiveness, fear

Silence – expectancy, determination, 'bracing myself'

Attack – confusion, 'this isn't supposed to happen', searching, fear, anxiety, 'sense of doom, failure'

End – confusion, searching, relief?

Hermione couldn't make head or tail of it. Her feelings during the dream didn't follow any sensible pattern. Why did she feel trust and fear for the face? And recognition? Whose face was it? She couldn't remember it very clearly. The features had been chiselled and the person had very light blonde hair...Draco? She couldn't be sure. Then what had happened to disrupt everything? The noises, the movement...what had happened? And why had she felt confusion and relief when it had stopped?

Hermione sighed and put down her quill. She knew it would take her time to understand the dream; it always did. Premonition dreams weren't very clear and their memories were fleeting. That's why Professor Dumbledore had told her to always write down whatever had happened in the dreams as soon as possible.

She put away the quill and parchment and sat thinking for a while. Shafts of sunlight poured through the open curtains in the cosy bedroom and seemed to illuminate her thoughts. Memories of the previous day came flooding back to her and she contemplated them. Like the dream, she couldn't figure them out. She tried to understand Draco and his actions, but she couldn't. She could only hope that, in time, they could sort out things between them.

A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts and she remembered she was at Harry's house. In her haste, she had failed to take note of the unfamiliar surroundings.

"Hermione?" came a voice from the other side of the door.

"Come in," she replied.

Harry's tall frame entered the room. "Good morning. How are you today?"

"I'm fine," she replied. "I'm feeling much better."

"Good," he grinned, seating himself on the bed.

"I had a dream," she informed him. "A premonition."

He was alert. "You did? About what?"

"I don't know yet," she said and gave him the sheet she had noted it down on.

He studied the parchment and looked serious. "Doesn't make any sense. Can you remember anything else?"

She shook her head and he nodded. "Well, I suppose we'll find out sooner or later." He put away the sheet. "Would you like some breakfast?"

"Sure, I'm starved," she replied and the two got up and went to the dining area.

Hermione sat at the little table, while Harry brought out hot buns and coffee.

"Oh, Harry, you've already done everything!" she cried.

"Well, I woke up a little early, so I thought I'd just heat everything up," he replied. "Do you want eggs or bacon or ham?"

"Well, I wouldn't mind some eggs with bacon, but I'll get it myself," she announced.

"You don't have to..." he got up.

"No, Harry, you sit," she grinned, setting him down. "I'm fine! I'm quite capable of making myself some breakfast!"

He laughed and continued with his breakfast, telling her where she could find the supplies.

Hermione made her way to the kitchen. It had been touched by Laetitia's magic and had sunny yellow wallpaper on its walls and hand-painted cupboards and shelves. She's perfect for Harry, Hermione thought. It was nice to know that one of her best friends had found someone who was so good and so right for him. Harry and Laetitia's relationship was so free of all complications and so unlike Hermione's own love life that she couldn't help but envy it. She took out the eggs and bacon and cooked them, a little startled by her jealousy.

She returned to the dining area to find Harry deeply engaged in reading the day's Prophet. "Anything interesting?" she asked, sitting down beside him.

"No, not really," he replied. "Just the usual trouble at the Ministry and some new laws and stuff. There's a little piece about Draco's engagement."

"What does it say?" asked Hermione, a lump forming in her throat.

"Something about how much money's being spent on it and how much stuff's been imported from France and Italy," he said.

"Yeah, Marissa's parents are French," she managed to say.

"Still, they're spending a ridiculous amount on the import," condemned Harry. "Forty thousand galleons. They could do so much else with that money."

"They could," replied Hermione, absently.

Harry didn't say anything more, realising it might be upsetting for her.

"Harry?" she said after a few minutes. "Do you think we should go at all?"

"Well," he began, as if he had been anticipating the question. "If it's very difficult for you, we won't go, of course, but it could be very helpful to us to go. Just think of all the guests they would have; we could learn some very important things."

"Hmmm..." she replied. "I suppose that's true."

Harry squeezed her hand. "Herms, you know I'd never want you to do something that would hurt you. If it's too difficult, we won't go."

Hermione smiled at him. "It's all right. We'll go. I can't be so weak."

"You're not weak and you wouldn't be even if you didn't go," replied Harry. "It would be very understandable after what happened yesterday."

"I know, but I will go," she said, with sudden determination. "We'll all go and we'll show them that they can't scare us."

"No, they can't," he agreed. "And we can always leave early if you want."

They finished their breakfast and Hermione went to her room to get ready. Ron was supposed to come at about eleven-thirty and it was already eleven-thirty. However, he was famous for his tardiness so they weren't expecting him till about twelve, but there still wasn't much time.

Ron arrived at twelve-fifteen, when Harry and Hermione were getting impatient.

"Hi, all!" he shouted, as he came in.

"You're late!" scolded Hermione, hugging him.

"Sorry, actually Ginny wanted to come, too, and it took us a long time to make her understand that she couldn't go to Malfoy's engagement," he replied.

Harry and Hermione forgave him and soon the three were sitting down with coffee mugs.

"Hermione had a premonition," Harry told him.

"Really?" Ron's eyes widened. He had always considered premonitions a bad omen, though he was rather in awe of Hermione for having them.

"Yeah, but it doesn't make any sense," Hermione warned him and showed him the paper.

"Yeah..." said Ron, looking at it in awe. "It doesn't make any sense..."

"Herms, do you think the guy could be Draco?" asked Harry.

"I thought of that, but I'm not sure," she replied. "I can't really remember his face too clearly."

"Moaning Myrtle! You don't think it's a premonition about..." Ron exclaimed.

Harry shot him a warning look, but Hermione was surprisingly calm. "No, Ron, I don't think it's a premonition or symbol for our future," she said. "And please don't use that expression. It's rude."

"What, moaning Myrtle?" he asked. "But it's so apt!"

"That might be so, but it's mean," she replied.

Ron didn't say anything and look sulky. Harry sighed. The two could never meet for more than ten minutes without offending each other and yet they were the closest friends.

"Anyway," Harry broke the silence. "I was thinking we could go to Saffron and Fuchsia for lunch and some browsing."

"Saffron and Fuchsia?" asked Ron. "You mean that dim café that positively reeks of Trelawny?"

"It doesn't reek of Professor Trelawny..." Harry said half-heartedly.

"It bloody well does!" ejaculated Ron. "All that incense and dim lighting and the weird crowd that goes there...phew!"

"Well, it's a rather quaint little place," noted Hermione. "And the food is good. I say it's a good idea."

"Shall we, then?" Harry got up, offering her his arm.

"But...wait...Harry! Hermione!" Ron ran after them.

----------------

Half an hour later, the trio were sitting in the café. Saffron and Fuchsia was a highly incensed place with very dim lighting and it did entertain a rather peculiar clientele, but it was an interesting place with new themes each month. The month's theme was the future, so strange metallic orbs seemingly appeared from everywhere and a huge kaleidoscope of futuristic colours and designs could be seen. There was even a fortune-teller, a Madam Pheroza, who was apparently very famed in the northern part of the country.

"Isn't this khow suey delicious?" asked Hermione, taking a second helping of the noodles and meat.

"Yeah, absolutely," replied Harry.

"Harry! Hermione!" Ron suddenly exclaimed. His eyes were wide with surprise and curiosity. "Look! There's Tubble!"

"Where?" they asked simultaneously. Ron pointed towards Madame Pheroza and they looked.

Sure enough, the meek figure sitting in front of the fortune-teller with a concerned expression on his face was Tubble MacNoughthy.

"What's he doing here?" asked Hermione.

"I'd like to know!" exclaimed Harry. "Hanging about a public place!"

"This is so irresponsible of him!" cried Hermione.

"I wonder if Dumbledore knows," mused Ron.

"Well, I don't think Tubble would do this without his knowledge..." said Harry uncertainly.

"Should we find out?" asked Ron.

Harry was hesitant, but Hermione said, "Yeah, let's go. This is too much. We deserve to know what's going on."

The three got up and made their way to the fortune-teller's 'booth'; it really was just a table and two large cushions surrounded on three sides by sequinned curtains. Tubble was just getting up to leave when the three reached. He saw them and gave a startled backward lurch.

"Harry! Hermione! Ron!" he exclaimed.

"Hello, Tubble," said Harry.

Tubble looked bewilderedly at each of them. He was obviously at a loss for words.

"Would you like to sit down?" Hermione asked him.

He gulped, but agreed. They went back to the trio's table, on which half-eaten plates of khow suey remained.

"Would you like to eat something?" Hermione asked him.

"No...no thanks," he replied, looking uncomfortable.

"Well, Tubble..." Harry began, but Ron interrupted him, "Let's get to the point: what are you doing here?"

"Er...well...you see..." he stuttered.

"Come on, Tubble, no excuses," Hermione said. "We want to know what's going on."

He sighed. "Well, I suppose it's no use hiding it from you now." He looked at them with bright black eyes. "The prophecy is being fulfilled."

"What prophecy?" asked Harry.

"Oh dear, Dumbledore hasn't told you," he said with a worried expression. "I really don't know if I should..."

"Oh, come on!" Hermione cried. "You know we have a right to know!"

"You do..." he trailed off. "All right. Well, after the Dark Lord was defeated, a prophecy was made about the future. It stated that a new power would soon threaten the world, a power much greater and much more terrible than the Dark Lord. It would wreck havoc and chaos everywhere, destroying lives and causing mayhem. This power would far surpass the horror of the previous, yet it would arise to avenge the destruction of the previous. It would be impossible to overcome at its peak."

The three listened in silence.

"But it could be overcome in the beginning," Tubble continued. "It could be overcome in its early days, through fierce determination, unfailing unity and sheer courage. It would be difficult even then to destroy it, but it would be possible. However, for this destruction, a great sacrifice would be necessary."

"Sacrifice?" Hermione asked softly.

"Yes, a sacrifice," replied Tubble. "It is not known what kind of sacrifice would be needed, but it would be something very great and important."

"Are we the ones meant to fight the power?" asked Harry.

"I do not know," replied Tubble. "It will be a team of four people, out of which one will be from the side of the enemy. He will be someone who will be one of the most valuable members of the team; someone who has knowledge to lead them straight to the force and power to betray them all."

"How can they trust such a person?" asked Ron.

"That is not known," said Tubble. "But it is known that if they work together in complete unity and cooperation and the sacrifice is made, the power can be destroyed."

The trio said nothing, each lost in their own thoughts.

"I have to go now," said Tubble, getting up to leave, but the three stopped him.

"Oh no, you don't!" Ron said, setting him down. "You haven't told us everything."

"What more can I tell?" cried Tubble. "The prophecy is proving true. An evil force is arising; you know of it."

"The death-eaters in Scotland?" asked Hermione.

"Yes, the death-eaters," replied Tubble. "Dumbledore thinks they are gaining a lot of power and growing too strong. He believes they are the new power that, at their peak, will be worse than the Dark Lord."

"Is that why he called you out of hiding?" asked Harry.

Tubble sighed. "Yes, it is. He thought I might be able to help him, but so far I know nothing. Their minds have formed a barrier against me."

"Then what?" cried Hermione.

"We are trying to find a way...hopefully, we will."

"Why weren't we told?" asked Ron.

"That I do not know," said Tubble truthfully. "Dumbledore'll have his own reasons. You'll have to ask him."

"I think we will," said Harry, thoughtfully. "Thanks, Tubble."

"Can I go?" he looked relieved. Ron said yes and he left.

"So?" said Hermione, as the three sat down to ponder the new information. There was a thrill in the air and a rush of adrenaline ran through her veins. It was time to battle again.