Something to Ponder

By Saxifrage

Chapter Two: Meet Her

It seemed that once her tears had been started, they didn't want to stop. Even when Hermione Granger had pulled her into a tight hug, murmuring soothing nonsense to her, she didn't stop to wonder at her imagination. Someone was there for her, and at that moment, it didn't really matter whether said person was real or not. That was how it had always been with Padfoot.

At the thought of Padfoot, another heart wrenching sob broke from her lips. It was only after several minutes of unstoppable bawling did the flow start to lesson. When finally her unstable breathing was controlled, she pushed back gently and leaned on her pillow. She looked out the window with an automatic glance; she could tell it was past curfew now. Had she really been crying that long?

She looked up at her comforter, and blinked the rest of her tears away. The smartest girl in all of Hogwarts had her brow wrinkled in confusion, and worry was clearly distinguished in her eyes. Once more, Hermione asked, "Are you alright?" in a small voice, as if afraid to break her. Without waiting for an answer, she continued. "What's your name?"

It took a while for her to remember; it seemed like a distant memory. What had Padfoot always called her? Oh, right, Foxy… because her name was Aaralyn Fox. He had always written, "Dear Foxy Aaralyn," It was their inside joke. Just like she had called him "Snuffles" when he told her he had a really bad cold and had the "snuffles".

"Aaralyn Fox," She told Hermione. "I'm Aaralyn Fox." It seemed like she had never said her own name aloud before. Who had told her her name, anyways? Aaralyn couldn't remember.

"It's nice to meet you, Aaralyn." Hermione said with an overdose of warmth and joy. It was obvious that she was trying to help Aaralyn forget whatever had been troubling her. Well that wouldn't ever be possible… 'Wait,' Aaralyn thought, 'why would an illusion care about that? Maybe I should have eaten dinner.'

Hermione blinked and Aaralyn realized she had said the last sentence out loud. "You didn't eat?" Hermione burst, "Well, come on! I'll get you something!"

With that, Hermione grabbed Aaralyn's hand and started to pull her down stairs. Aaralyn didn't even have time to protest.

When they reached the common room, Hermione turned around and stopped her. "Wait here," she said. "I'll be right back."

In a rush, Hermione ran upstairs and was back thirty seconds later carrying a cloak made of silvery material. Without a word, she threw the cloak over the two of them and pushed the fat lady's portrait outward, forcing Aaralyn, who was about to voice a question, to fall silent.

The next thing Aaralyn knew, they were standing in front of a large picture of a bowl of fruit. Aaralyn watched Hermione tickle a pear through a gap in the cloak, and giggled when the pear did. The pear then turned into a doorknob. Hermione grabbed the doorknob and opened the picture.

Inside was a large room set up exactly like the Great Hall, and House Elves were running all over the place. At the sight of Hermione, many of them hissed in distaste.

"Why is Miss here? Miss should now be in bed, asleep." One of the elves muttered harshly.

"What's up with them?" Aaralyn asked. "I thought house elves were supposed to be nice."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I believe in house elf freedom, and they don't like that idea."

"Well, the magic of house elves is in their cleaning and their slavery. They start to loose their oomph if they don't have a master to serve and clean for. Besides, a thousand years ago they signed a contract with the humans granting them slavery of all house elves if the humans would make sure that their natural enemy wouldn't kill them all. I don't know what their enemy is, though." Aaralyn responded simply, and blinked as smile crept on the faces of the house elves around her.

"Miss knows our history!" they sang in a chorus.

"How do you know that, Aaralyn?" Hermione asked puzzled. "What book did you get it from?"

Aaralyn shook her head. "Not a book, I got the info from my pen pal…" She trailed off. She didn't want to get into that subject.

"Oh. Well, anyways, do you think you guys could get Aaralyn some dinner? She missed it and she's very hungry." Hermione said and Aaralyn wondered how she knew it was time to change the subject. Maybe all imaginary friends knew.

The house elves gathered together steaming hot food and placed it in a basket for Hermione and Aaralyn to take with them. Aaralyn immediately pulled out a fried chicken drumstick and started to munch on it as they headed back to the common room.

"How do you know about that place?" Aaralyn asked around her chicken, trying to keep her voice low.

Hermione was obviously used to the act from years of practice with Ron. "Fred and George showed the Kitchens to me in fourth year." Hermione whispered back.

"What about this cloak?" Aaralyn asked, nudging the silky stuff hanging over her. "It's obviously an invisibility cloak."

"Um, I can't tell you that. It's not my secret to tell." Hermione said nervously.

Aaralyn nodded silently. She knew about having secrets, she had a few of them herself that she'd never, ever dare tell anyone. She wouldn't even think about them… but then again, aside from Padfoot, she had never had anyone to tell secrets to anyways. Maybe if she got some good friends who cared like Hermione seemed to… But hadn't Aaralyn already decided that this was a dream?

'It doesn't really matter right now,' Aaralyn thought and pulled out another chicken drumstick. 'I should enjoy the company while it lasts.' Aaralyn smiled. She had never thought the word "company" without using it negatively before. It was a nice change, even if it was only a word.

They journeyed back to the Common Room in silence then, enjoying the feel of the moonlight which fell in through the windows. Aaralyn wondered why she had never noticed the peaceful way the castle looked before, and she suddenly desired to search it's every crevice.

That desire caused her eyes to linger on one particular doorway that looked as if it hadn't been used in years. Some charm was trying with all it's might to attract her to the broom closet sitting a few feet away, but it had already been betrayed. But Aaralyn only shook her head, knowing it was just another room in Hogwarts, and continued walking.

Inside the Gryffindor Common Room, Hermione and Aaralyn were met by two very annoyed boys. Aaralyn knew their names, Harry Potter, the famous wizard who brought the downfall to the infamous Lord Voldemort at the age of one, and Ronald Weasley, the last son of the well-known Weasley family, and this year's newest heartthrob. Aaralyn quickly rubbed her eyes to make sure there were no remains of tears.

"What the bloody hell was so important at the kitchens that you had to go there in the middle of the night without saying a word to us?" Ron growled at Hermione. Harry quirked an eyebrow, but stayed silent. There seemed to be an air of sadness surrounding him.

Hermione shrugged moodily. "Don't cuss, Ron. I just went to get some food, it's no big deal." Hermione argued with Ron quietly.

"Food? Since when did you start going to the kitchens for a midnight snack?" he asked stupidly.

"Not for me you idiot, for Aaralyn. She missed dinner." Hermione scowled.

"Who?" Ron looked completely confused.

"What am I, invisible?" Aaralyn asked, half thinking that she was, even though she didn't want to be. "Or maybe I'm just your imaginary friend, Hermione." She said sarcastically, and smiled warmly. Inwardly, she gasped. She really didn't sound like the timid girl she thought herself to be. And she was switching her own thoughts around and twisting them into sentences that contradicted her real musings. Aaralyn was pretty sure that Hermione wasn't thinking that she was imaginary… if Hermione was real.

Ron and Harry blinked, and then Harry started to snicker loudly. Hermione only rolled her eyes and smiled. "You must be, Aaralyn, either that or these guys have gotten even thicker over the summer. And I was trying so hard, too." Hermione said in mock sympathy. Ron scowled.

"Anyways, this is Aaralyn Fox, Aaralyn; these are my best friends, Harry and Ron."

Ron stretched out his hand and ginned lopsidedly. "Nice to meet you." He looked her in the eyes, and Aaralyn noticed that they kept flickering away toward Hermione.

Ron then bushed his long auburn hair out of his eyes. His long nose and well muscle toned body made Ron seem a bit barbarically handsome, but his light blue eyes, face dotted with freckles, and the way he blushed every time Hermione looked at him slightly, contrasted it, making him look, instead, like a warm and cuddly teddy-bear. Aaralyn had never really been able to get a good look at him before this moment, but now that she had seen him fully, she understood why all the girls were suddenly swooning over him this year.

Aaralyn then looked at Harry, finding Harry's messy black hair desirable to run hands through, and that his body was also well toned however skinny, and he was slightly shorter than Ron. He seemed to be the exact figure a "hero"—seeker, she reminded herself firmly—needed. His face was a mix of hard and soft features; making her wonder if he looked more like a geek with those funny round glasses, or simply wondrous. It took a moment to shake off the dazed look in her eyes, and when she did, she found a hand stretched out in front of her.

"Yeah," he said, and smiled. But when their hands touched, a bright light flashed in her eyes, and her skin tingled a bit harshly. White spots danced in her vision for a few seconds, and then cleared. She blinked and looked back at Harry, who was rubbing his scar and frowning. She quickly pulled her hand free.

"We better get to bed," Aaralyn muttered, even though she didn't want her dream to end. Hermione quickly agreed and pulled her upstairs, fussing over her like a mother.

Watching them go, Harry thought of his scar. It hadn't burned at all over the summer except when he would wake up after seeing Sirius' death in his dreams. What had caused it to react? Was Voldemort plotting something, or did this new girl, have something to do with Voldemort? Harry turned to Ron to pull him upstairs and voice his concerns, when he realized Ron was still concentrating on Hermione's ass as she ascended the stairs and disappeared. He shook his head with a smirk plastered on his face and left Ron that way.

A/N: I hope you liked that chapter! Please review!