Chapter 7 – Dreams

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"Laughter is the shortest distance between two people."
Victor Borge

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Hermione woke up with a start, staring bewildered at her surroundings. She was breathing rapidly, but despite the darkness she could recognize her own bedroom and she closed her eyes again, breathing out in relief.
It was the third night in a row that the very same dream had awoken her, leaving her exhausted and confused. She tried to clear her mind of all thoughts in an attempt to remember more of the dream. But still, she couldn't let go of her amazement; she knew she had dreamt that she was running, but what was strange was the feeling of physical exhaustion, as if she really had been doing that.
Hermione groaned in frustration, knowing she would be unable to fall back to sleep despite the fact that she was so tired. She had wasted the entire weekend attempting to study but failing to do so, as her mind continuously drifted back to the exposition and her dream. It appeared so clearly to her now and yet she had no idea what it meant, what it had to do with the strange book in the museum and with him.

She sighed and decided to finally get up. It was still too early, not even five thirty, but lying around in bed wouldn't help. Hermione really needed to make a decision, but she had knowingly avoided it, hoping the dream was just a product of her overactive mind. But now that it had turned into a recurring dream, she couldn't postpone it any longer. She needed an explanation and perhaps he would be able to help her, after all, he'd wanted to meet with her anyway …
With that in mind, she finally headed towards her desk and scribbled a quick note:

'Draco,
Please meet with me today around noon.
I have a two hour break from University
from twelve until two and it would be best
if we could talk then, there's something I
really need to discuss with you.
H.G.'

Hermione reluctantly left for the owlery with her note. She couldn't remember ever seeing the owlery this empty and she smiled to herself, thinking that she had become quite a night bird too.
Hermione called a small owl down from its resting spot and tied the note to the bird's leg, instructing it where to go and whom to give the note to. The little owl took off and she looked after it noticing the sunrise. It was only then that Hermione realized it was far too early to send someone a letter and far too late to call the owl back. She sighed, staring into nothingness for a while, until she finally made her way back home.

Slowly, she prepared for the day, forcing herself to have breakfast and dress. She truly dreaded the day – it would probably be the second week in a row when she would be unable to concentrate in class and everyone would surely notice, and then questions would follow, questions she didn't want to have to answer to.

Hermione sighed again, picking up her bag and slowly placing a few more books and rolls of parchment inside it. With one more sigh she put on her cloak and left the apartment.
She really didn't know what she dreaded most: attending her classes or meeting Draco Malfoy.

Just as she had feared, those of her colleagues who knew her better seemed to be quite worried about their friend. Miriam even held her at arm's length, analysing her carefully and concluding that she looked terrible.
Hermione was somewhat glad she didn't have to lie, explaining that she was very tired because of some nightmares that had kept her awake during the night. Thankfully, Miriam chose to inquire no further, even though she didn't look very convinced.

She felt so absent somehow during her first class, unable to focus and actually understand what her professor required them to do, much to Madame Goshawk's surprise. Afterwards, Hermione rushed out of the classroom, not giving the woman the chance to speak to her.
She only came to a halt when she noticed a familiar owl circling her; it was the same one which had brought her Draco Malfoy's letter the other week. As soon as she untied the parchment from the owl's leg it flew away. 'So he expects no answer then' she thought as she unrolled the note.
Hermione was a little surprised to find only one line on it:
'I'll be there at twelve then.
D.M.'

She stared at the words for a while until she finally made her way to the next class, briefly consulting her map.
The other two courses before her break passed in much the same way and Hermione breathed out in relief when they were finally over. Miriam raised her eyebrows in surprise; it was really unheard of for Hermione to feel anything but regret at the end of each class.
She followed Hermione outside and she took her by the arm as they passed through the garden. Miriam was about to ask if there was anything she could do to help when Hermione gasped, stopping abruptly.

"Malfoy!" she said incredulously.
Miriam followed Hermione's gaze and her eyebrows raised once again as she saw an unfamiliar, yet rather attractive young man standing a short distance away. He looked a bit taken aback too but he quickly composed himself, nodding and whispering 'Granger'.
Miriam looked from him back to Hermione who still looked surprised. She walked towards the 'Malfoy' guy, as she had called him, and angrily demanded what he was doing there.
"You asked me to come see you, remember?" Miriam heard him answer. And then things started to make sense for her; Hermione being distracted, shopping for clothes, feeling tired. Miriam smiled as Hermione hastily dragged the boy towards the exit, convinced her friend had a lover.

As for Draco, after the initial surprise passed he was amused to see Hermione grab his robes and drag him outside the Universities grounds.
"Where are we going?" he chanced to ask. Hermione stopped in her tracks. She had no clue where she was heading to but she suddenly had an idea.
"Somewhere private" she said and she took hold of his right arm. He snorted but she became very serious when she told him that she hated rumors.
"Now hold on, I won't take the blame if you get splinched." But before Draco could say anything they disappeared with a 'pop'.

He took a deep breath when the pressure and the spinning finally came to an end. Looking around he immediately recognized the place: Bois de Boulogne. Draco snorted again, this time at her choice of location, but he made no objection, following her towards some unoccupied benches.
Silently, Hermione sat down leaving her bag on the ground and Draco took a seat next to her.
She made no attempt to start the conversation and his curiosity pushed Draco to start it himself.

"So, tell me, what was so important you had to wake me up at six in the morning for?" Draco asked smirking.
But Hermione chose to ignore his tone, instead she quickly told him her reason, before she could change her mind.
"I-had-a-dream-about-you" she blurted out in a breath.
Draco's first reaction was one of surprise. Then a grin spread across his face.
"Of course" he said snickering.

Hermione crossed her arms and glared at him, but that only seemed to amuse Draco more.
"Are you quite finished now?" she asked in a reproachful tone.
"Almost. I just want to set something straight" he answered, trying to keep a serious expression.
Hermione simply raised an eyebrow.
"Whatever it is that you dreamed - I'm not going to make it come true" he added and burst out in laughter as he saw her annoyed reaction. Draco was still laughing when Hermione decided to get up and leave. He stopped abruptly and stood to follow her.

"So, what did you dream about?" Draco asked in a whisper when he reached her. Hermione turned to face him, still offended he hadn't taken her seriously. She replied simply, in a bored tone:
"Should I start before or after you died in it?" Hermione watched him carefully and smiled a victorious smile when she saw his shock. Then she burst out laughing as well.

As the laughter finally subsided, Hermione took him by the elbow and brought him back to the bench, failing to notice his surprise at the gesture.
They both sat, facing each other again and the mirth disappeared from Hermione's face. Draco didn't fail to notice the change in her expression.
"You were serious?" he asked disbelievingly. "About the dream, I mean…you didn't just say that to shut me up." The last part was more a statement than a question.
Hermione shook her head in response and wondered how to start describing her nightmare. She told him it was all uncommonly vivid in her mind, despite the fact that it was such an unusual dream for her. She had decided to tell him about the dream before mentioning her suspicions and fears.

"I was running through a dark field, running as fast as I could." Hermione started. "Every once in a while I turned to look behind me, where I could see light and hear distant voices and I knew I was being followed.
Then I was running towards some woods. I was very tired, but I kept running, clutching a book to my chest. I made my way through the trees easily, knowing exactly which way to go and then I finally reached my destination.
It was a small stone altar and I fell to my knees in front of it." Hermione paused for a second, trying to find her words. Draco hadn't said a thing, watching her with interest.
"And then it was as if I was pushed out of my own body. I was standing on the other side of the altar and…well…now you were the one kneeling where I had been earlier, and you were holding the book."
Draco opened his mouth to say something but then stopped, raising his eyebrows to encourage her to continue. Hermione looked at him and took a deep breath.

"Then you...placed your hands on the book, you closed your eyes and...you recited something, I...don't know where it was from, but it was in French."
"In French?" Draco asked her and Hermione nodded. She sighed and continued.
"You said :
Mon âme évade la prison de son corps.
Mon esprit se relève aux cieux.
Gardez-le, donc, dieux."
"Je ne connaîtrai jamais la mort."¹ he finished.

Hermione stared at him open mouthed.
"How...did you know? You know this?"
"It's...How do you know it?" he asked in return.

Hermione looked at him anxiously; she really wanted to find out what Draco knew.
"I don't know it, that's just it. I mean...I've never heard it before...just...in my dream. Is it real? Do you really know it all? What does it mean...besides the meaning of the words, I mean does it symbolize something? Is it –"
"Stop!" Draco interrupted her, holding his hand out as well.
"How can you talk so much without breathing?" Hermione narrowed her eyes at him, but before she could say anything more, he continued.

"I know what it is, but...how can you dream of...are you sure you haven't at least read this somewhere before?" Draco asked her, but Hermione shook her head, saying that she was certain.
"Well..." Draco went on, "you see...it's a sort of incantation or poem, yes, a poem...I mean, it doesn't do anything but...it's a rather old custom, in pureblood families" he paused here, waiting for Hermione's comment, but it never came. Instead, she was looking at him with great interest and attention.

"And?" Hermione finally asked when he didn't continue after a few seconds.
"And it's only recited at a funeral" he said. "When someone dies...it just shows that the soul is immortal and...well...I've heard it before, but only here, in France."

They were both quiet after that, both pensive, until Hermione finally broke the silence.
"But...why did I dream it?" she asked, knowing very well, though, that neither one of them had the answer to that.
Again, they sat in silence for a while, looking at each other, but then Draco finally asked something that seemed to be bothering him.
"How…how did I die in your dream?"
Hermione looked down at her hands and stopped twisting them. She didn't know how to explain it to him.
"I…I just knew you did. You just…fell to the ground. Nothing really happened, there was no one else…but you didn't move anymore and…I always woke up at that point." She looked back at Draco.

"Are you sure I died? I mean if nothing –" he started, but Hermione interrupted him.
"Draco, I've seen people die before…you died. I mean, in my dream."

He didn't say anything for a while, just staring at something to Hermione's right. When he shifted his gaze back at her he looked very uncertain. His mouth moved to say something but it made no sound until he tried again.
"Hermione…" he whispered. "Do you think this might be a…prophetic dream?"
Her eyes grew with surprise. Such a thing was absolutely…impossible and she told him so.
"It's just ridiculous, Draco! I'm not having dreams about the future, that's just –"
"How can you know that?" he cut her off. "Why should it be impossible? You can't know that."

Hermione sighed again. She really had to tell him, but it was something she didn't want to admit even to herself.
"I…don't think it was about that, about your death." She looked away from him and continued.
"I think that something else is the key to it; I suspect my dream was really about…that book."
Draco raised his eyebrows in confusion. 'What did a book have to do with this?'
Hermione sensed his question and answered it before it was spoken aloud.
"The book in my dream…well, I think I saw it three days ago, before the nightmares started."
Draco stared at her with shock. This was all so unbelievable, so unlikely…he was all friendly with 'Granger' now, after almost seven years of rivalry and mutual hate and…he had nothing against it. Not only that, but she was quite interesting to talk to, really; and now this dream and a bloody book, it was all so odd and confusing.

"What book, Hermione?" he asked sighing.
She turned her attention back to him and pondered what to do. It was rather late and she didn't want to be late herself, there was no need to attract even more questions. But it felt somehow unfair to leave him in the dark. They would have to come to some sort of compromise she thought.

"Well, I promise I'll tell you all the details just…not right now, I really can't afford to be late for classes" she said apologetically. "It's a book I saw in a museum" she continued, omitting to mention that it was a Muggle one.
"Listen…there are a lot of things I think we need to set straight, about that poem too." Draco nodded in consent.
"Maybe we could do that after my classes? Around six" she proposed and he nodded again.
"Fine" he said and Hermione stood up, grabbing her bag and straightening her robe.
"I guess I'll see you then" Draco added standing too. "And maybe we can go eat something as well."

Hermione smiled shortly and nervously in response. But just before apparating back to University she turned back towards him.
"Uhm…could you…please meet me outside of Veneficus this time?" she asked hesitantly.
Draco snorted and gave her a curt nod. It was only after she disapparated that he allowed himself to laugh openly.

Author's note

¹ The four verses in French mean:
My soul escapes the prison of its body.
My spirit lifts to the skies.
Guard it, then, gods.
I will never know death.

I must admit, once again, that the idea of someone dreaming of an unknown yet existing text also comes from Tracy Chevalier's "The Virgin Blue", where the main character recites a real psalm in her dream despite the fact that she doesn't actually know it.

I'm sure you'll all understand why Hermione has the dream, if you still remember the prologue. Draco's presence in it is…well…fate? Probably, but it's certainly not coincidence.

I'm sorry if the abundance of '…' bothered you, but it's really the only way I can think of to portrayal hesitation in written and I imagined their dialogue that way, hesitant, with lots of pauses.
I hope you've enjoyed this (rather long) chapter; I really wanted to write it.