Disclaimer: See Ch.1
Stifling a yawn, Hermione descended to the kitchen. She greeted everyone present with a sleepy "good morning" and rubbed her eyes before seating herself and heaping eggs and bacon onto her plate.
"Did you sleep well last night, Hermione?" inquired Mrs. Weasley cheerfully. Hermione nodded, unable to speak because her mouth was full of breakfast. "Good, I'm glad to hear that," said Mrs. Weasley, a mischievous look in her eyes that Hermione missed because she was yawning again.
Harry, Ron and Hermione had made plans that day to go to Diagon Alley, with an escort of Aurors, or course. After all, Harry was still a prime target for the few remaining Death Eaters who had managed to evade Azkaban after Lord Voldemort's downfall. Diagon Alley was back to its usual, bustling self once more.
The two boys immediately rushed off to the Quidditch supply shop, and Hermione wandered into Flourish and Blotts. Absent-absentmindedly, she perused the shelves, not really looking for anything, except for a distraction for her wandering mind. She was thinking about the final battle that had taken place in the beginning of the summer. Snape had been there, but no one seemed to know whose side he was on. Neither the Death Eaters nor the Order members had wanted to curse him, and it seemed he was making his way to the center of the battle, throwing curses at whomever crossed his path, both members of the Dark and Light sides. Even though she had been battling a Death Eater, she couldn't help but notice when Snape had been knocked out by a nasty hex. That had been the last time she'd seen him.
She thought about the murdering traitor for the rest of the day, and the ride back to the Burrow. The boys didn't notice her distraction—they were too excited about their new Quidditch supplies that they ran right to the field to try out Harry's new Seeker gloves. Hermione trailed behind and sat at the base of an oak tree. Still lost in her thoughts, she didn't realize she had been crying until Ginny sat next to her, a concerned look on her face.
"Are you alright Hermione?" asked Ginny, gently. Ginny too had her share of ghosts. The final battle had taken many people they both knew, and Michael Corner had been one of the few student casualties. Although he and Ginny had broken up a long time ago, Ginny had remained close friends with him and sobbed openly at his funeral.
Wiping her eyes on her sleeve, Hermione choked out, "Oh! I feel so stupid! Crying about...stuff...that I couldn't...can't...control...not now or, or ever!...And it's all...over and...done with!"
Even though she was puzzled by Hermione's strange reply, Ginny said no more and comforted her friend by rubbing circles ion her back. At long last, Hermione's tears subsided.
"Ginny," asked a hoarse Hermione, "do you think I'm...crazy? Mental?"
"What? Why on Earth would I think that?" Ginny asked, now truly baffled.
"Well, I don't know," said Hermione. "I think I'm just going to go to bed. The pizza from Diagon Alley really filled me up. Goodnight Ginny." Getting to her feet, she glanced towards the boys, then headed towards her room.
The dream returned again, but so did the voice. Hermione had a tickling sensation—she felt she recognized the voice in the back of her mind. Tonight, the dream Hermione went looking for the voice. She wandered among the bits of ceiling that had yet to be restored, looking for the voice.
She saw movement out of the corner of her eyes, and headed in that direction. "Who are you?" she called out to the voice, hoping for an answer.
The voice replied, "I am...an angel."
Again, the angel's voice sounded so familiar to her. "Do you have a name?" she asked. It bothered her that she couldn't see the angel, all she could hear was his voice.
There was a pause, then, "They call me Erik."
Hermione peered around a chunk of the ceiling and found herself staring at the angel's back. He was tall, slender, and wore a floor length black cloak. Curious, she rose and started to move towards Erik. She had just reached him and was reaching out her hand to touch his shoulder when the dream ended abruptly.
Hermione's eyes fluttered open. Who was this Erik? Was he real, or just a figment of her subconscious mind?