Chapter 3 – Sweet Dreams

"I'm sorry," Hermione whispered, shaking her head apologetically. "I shouldn't have asked such a question. It was silly of me. I don't need to know...I just let my curiosity get the better of me...I'm sorry if I've upset you."

"Don't worry, Hermione, you haven't upset me at all," soothed Charlie gently, but as Hermione met his unwavering gaze she could still perceive traces of the acute pain and sorrow she had seen just seconds before. She decided to change the subject.

"So...er...do you like to read, Charlie?"

Grinning, the ghost pulled a nearby armchair close to Hermione's, sat and proceeded to tell Hermione about his love of all things literary. It emerged that he was a great reader and had once had aspirations to become an author himself.

Hermione listened intently to Charlie, noticing that he had perked up considerably. She was extremely relieved. As much as she had wanted to know the answer to her question, she knew it had been rather impertinent of her to approach such a sensitive topic of conversation with a ghost.

"...In fact," Charlie continued, "I think I've read nearly all of the books in this library and almost certainly everything Dumbledore owns!"

Hermione chuckled softly. "And there I was thinking I was the most well-read student in the school!"

"Well, I'm not technically a student any more but it's nice of you to include me in that category, Hermione," he smiled, leaning forward in his chair so that Hermione could make out tiny specks of emerald in his glittering sapphire eyes. She raised her eyes to his dark hair and noticed that the style was rather old-fashioned: immaculately groomed and neatly parted at the side. It occurred to her that she had no idea of when Charlie had lived.

"What are you thinking?" Charlie's voice startled Hermione, who had been totally lost in her thoughts.

"Er...well...I was just wondering when it was that you, um, lived?"

There was a brief pause before he answered softly, "A long time ago. Over fifty years, in fact. Don't worry, Hermione, you're entitled to ask questions."

Hermione smiled, wondering whether to ask Charlie once more about his death, but deciding against it. Her eyes wandered to a nearby grandfather clock and she gasped when she saw how late it was.

Charlie followed Hermione's gaze and gave her another sad smile. "3'o'clock in the morning. It's getting rather late, isn't it? I think I've kept you too long, Hermione. You should go back to your common room before Filch catches us and sets that horrid cat of his on you."

"You're probably right," yawned Hermione, slowly getting to her feet. There was so much she wanted to know about her new friend but she knew she would have to save it for another time. She found herself hoping deeply that there would be another time.

"Don't worry, we will meet again," whispered Charlie, seemingly reading her thoughts. "Sooner than either of us think, I expect... Sweet dreams, Hermione," and with a final flash of his now familiar grin, he vanished.

Dumbledore paced slowly up and down his office. He had known this day would come at some point and had thought that he was prepared for it. He knew he should stop it now before it was too late but something inside him was telling him to leave them be for the time being. He halted next to Fawkes' perch and lovingly stroked his dear friend's beautiful feathered head, wondering to himself whether the prophecy he had heard so long ago could at last be coming true.

Hermione returned to the Gryffindor tower unseen by anyone. She had grown used to dangerous situations over the past five years, so the simple matter of breaking a few school rules didn't bother her in the slightest. She had become both brave and rather foolhardy, a considerable contrast to her pre-Hogwarts self. Then, she had been wary of any sort of trouble. Nowadays, her courage knew no end.

As she entered the common room that night, however, and saw Ron sleeping in his favourite fireside armchair, her heart skipped a beat and she stopped dead in her tracks. Despite all of her bravery and confidence, lately she had begun to feel slightly nervous around her friend and was not altogether sure why.

Hermione walked slowly towards Ron's sleeping figure and looked down at her friend, who she noticed was shivering slightly. She turned to the fireplace, took out her wand and prodded the dying flames until they were almost as tall as her. She then conjured up a warm, fluffy blanket and gently draped it over Ron's softly snoring form.

"Goodnight, Ron," she whispered, before conjuring up another blanket and settling into her favourite chair opposite Ron's. "Sweet dreams."

A/N:-

(14 Nov 04): First of all, I'm VERY VERY VERY VERY VERY SORRY it's taken me sooooooooo long to update but I've been horribly, annoyingly busy over the past month! Hope no one's lost interest due to my appalling lack of organisation and time! Second of all, I hope this is going OK, please review to let me know! :o) P.S – Sorry!