Hey guys, nala is back! (Finally) I know i've been away for a longgggg time, but I was distracted by exams at school and my inability to concentrate on just one story at a time, so the writing of this chapter has been very slow...

Warning- this is a semi-filler chapter. I find it to be very boring. I will try to upload a more exciting chapter asap. :P

I own nothing (besides the angels)- it all belongs to the wonderful JK

Enjoy!

(grabs pillow to go take nap)

Hermione screeched and sat up quickly in the queen-sized bed she shared with Ron. Squinting, she looked around the small master bedroom. It was nearly pitch black, but her mind registered that neither Lial or Purah, or any other angel for that matter, stood inside the room.

She closed her eyes and slowly laid back down, trying not to disturb Ron more than she already had. She soundlessly scooted over to Ron's side of the bed. Ruined marriage or no, it was nice to have someone to cuddle with when needed.

Hermione reached out to feel for Ron's warm, if slightly obese, body. (She now completely understood the phrase "beer belly") Feeling nothing but cold sheets, she scooted farther across the bed.

Did he leave the bed?

Hoping this was not the case, she scooted farther over, determined to be wrong. (For once)

No, no, no, Ron! I need you, and you abandoned me, again! How could you-

She squeaked in fright as she tumbled from the bed, onto the floor. She leaped up, her face already hot with embarrassment. She reached over the nightstand, and clicked on the light resting on it.

But there was no lamp.

There was no nightstand.

What was going on?

She pulled her wand out of her nightgown- you don't want to know where- and breathed a small sigh of relief.

At least something is still the same around here. She held the wand close to her mouth and whispered "lumos." The spell was effective as ever, lighting up the entire room.

No, her room.

Technically.

With a growing sense of horror, she slowly walked across the room, where she knew a mirror would be hanging. She screamed, dropping her wand and extinguishing the light. But the image was already burned onto her brain. She stood, and brought the light back to her wand. She turned back to the mirror, and stared at it silently, her fingers lightly caressing the cool glass.

The stranger stared back. In one way it was like she never met her reflection, but in a strange other way, it was like her best friend. A best friend she hadn't seen in almost thirty years.

She turned to face the rest of the room. The bed was still the same, so was the furniture.

It was like she walked into a memory. Or a dream within a dream.

That's it- a dream within a dream. Like that movie Inception Hugo dragged me to see. I'm still dreaming.

She stifled the urge to laugh hysterically. Or I've finally fallen off my rocker.

She didn't like the sound of either option.

Inception hasn't been created yet, let alone even thought of.

Silently Hermione counted to ten.

Hermione.

Nope, not real...

She wrapped her arms around her waist, and rocked herself back and forth, refusing to believe everything that was occurring around her.

Hermione, you're acting ridiculous. Hermione could actually sense the disapproval in his voice.

Not as ridiculous as the whole thing.

You agreed to this, remember?

She didn't respond, refusing to admit that he was right.

Meet me on the roof of the astronomy tower.

What's on the roof of the astronomy tower?

Your sanity, I hope.

If only she could send the bird through thought.

Alright.

Hermione quickly looked around the dimly lit room, and grabbed a black bathrobe hanging off of a chair in the corner of the small four-poster bedroom. She dimmed the light from her wand and quickly ran out of the room, barely pausing to grab a pair of black tennis shoes on her way out of the room filled with other softly snoring beings.

This dream is a lot more vivid than usual.

She shrugged and tip-toed through the good old gryffindor common room, where a couple of late-night studiers had fallen asleep and were using their textbooks as pillows.

The Fat Lady looked as whole as she ever had, and was opera-snoring (an old inside joke between her and Ron- the fat lady always had a habit of snoring at least three octaves higher than other person, or painting, ever could)

The painting swung open silently, and the fat lady stayed asleep, much to Hermione's relief. She silently stepped through the hole in the wall leading to the stone hallway. She slowly made her way around the school, trying to recall the directions to the astronomy tower.

I am completely lost-All the halls look the same.

Hermione continued walking down the hallway, ready to leap into the shadows in case anyone was still out in the halls. She glanced around, hopelessness, chilling her to the bone. She knew she could probably figure her way around if she could see the halls in daylight. She had considered multiple times using lumos to at least make it easier to get a grip on her surroundings, but she was too afraid of being caught by someone, mainly Filch or a prefect. She squinted in the dim moonlight, trying to see the paintings on the wall next to her. She recognized one that she knew she had already past a couple of times. She moved closer to the painting to get a better look at it. An older, balding man was sleeping in a white wicker chair, his head nodding up and down with each snore.(what was it with paintings and the tendency to snore?) His hands were folded together, resting on his slightly chubby belly. A table rested in front of him, a tablecloth matching the color of the wicker chair laying delicately over it.

Hermione sighed and gripped the frame holding the painting, shaking it slightly. The man didn't move, so she shook it a bit harder. No response. By this time she was shaking the painting so hard, a cup of hot tea previously resting on the table in front of the man tipped over, spilling its contents into his lap. He wailed in pain and leaped to his feet. He quickly grabbed a still-dry napkin laying next to the cup and saucer and began to furiously scrub at his trousers, before glaring at Hermione.

"Well what in God's name did you do that for?" He shouted angrily, obviously fighting back tears of pain.

"Well- you wouldn't wake up."

"Why would you want to wake me up? What time is it?" He glanced at clock conveniently painted on the peach-colored wall behind him. "Bloody Hell! The roosters aren't even up yet!"

"I'm sorry to disturb you, sir, but-"

"You do realize it's three o'clock in the morning!"

She shook her head slowly "Yes, sir, I do, but I just need-"

"Ah, I get it now." A strange mischievous glint came to his eye, which Hermione chose to ignore.

"That's great sir, now if you would just give-"

"Ah-ha! So I am right!" He rested his hands on the white linen tablecloth covered table, one hand still holding the napkin. "You're off to see a boy! And you want to know if I have seen him. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't call Mr. Filch right now."

"Oh, no, sir, please don't, I really just need-"

"I bet he's a ravenclaw, isn't he? You look like the type of girl who would prefer an intelligent, strapping young man. Why, maybe I should call Mr. Filch. Isn't there some rule against being out past a certain time? What do they call it now- curfew?"

"Sir! Please, I just need directions to the astronomy tower!"

"Ohhh a date under the stars! How romantic! I remember when I took my wife for a picnic under stars... she was a Gryffindor too, you know."

"How did you know I was a Gryffindor?"

He looked at her blankly. "Was?"

She silently cursed herself. "Sorry, How did you know that I am a Gryffindor?"

I was obvious that he was trying to portray a poker face, but she could still read the are-you-an-idiot look in his eyes. "It's on your robe."

"Oh." For the first time that night, she realized her 'bathrobe' was actually her Hogwarts school robe. Nice touch, subconscious.

"If you walk south-bound down this hall for a bit, and then make a left onto the first case of stairs leading upward, you'll go straight to the astronomy tower."

"Thanks." Hermione turned and began to walk in the direction the man had told her.

"Good luck on your date!" The painting called after her.

*snore* huh? oh, is this chapter over? good... As many of you will find out, I H-A-T-E to write fillers. Ah well. I had fun with the painting man... Have you ever had something hot poured onto your lap?

*Nala*