Chapter Text
“Honestly, you two! Can’t you take your homework more seriously?” Harry looked up from his writing to find one of his two best friends scowling at him as she stood next to the table he was working at, her arms planted firmly on her hips to underscore her displeasure.
“It’s not real homework, Hermione.” His other best friend protested. “They’re just Trelawney’s dream diaries.”
“You should still be taking the assignment seriously, Ron. This is our O.W.L. year. What are you going to do when a question about dream divination comes up on your exam?”
“Same thing I’m doing now.” Ron shrugged in reply.
“You’re not serious?!”
“Course I am. Not like they won’t be used to it anyway. How long’s Trelawney been teaching this stuff? She’s bound to know more about what it takes to pass a divination O.W.L. than you would, right?”
Harry watched Ron smirk as Hermione sputtered in an effort to come up with a response to that barb.
“Well… well… Harry, surely you can talk some sense into him?”
“Sorry, Hermione. This is the only way I can get this done. I never remember my dreams except for-… well, you know.” An awkward silence settled between the three friends as they were reminded of Harry’s Occlumency lessons and the reason for them. “Anyway,” Harry continued, shaking himself, “I can’t very well hand the homework in blank, can I?”
“I suppose not.” Hermione agreed reluctantly. “Have you looked at methods for remembering dreams? I don’t know of any reliable, muggle methods but maybe the magical world has something?”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, Hermione, but I’m not so interested in Divination that I’ve been researching things like that.”
“Just imagine,” Ron snorted, “Who would do extra homework for Trelawney’s class?”
“It’s not for her class, Ron!” Hermione snapped. “It’s for your exams at the end of the year.”
“Yeah, yeah. Are you really sure you should be having a go at us like that after you called the class rubbish and marched out?”
Hermione just glared at them and stormed off.
“I think that might have been a bit too far, Ron.” Harry said quietly as he watched their friend stomp out through the portrait hole.
“She’s gotten me often enough. It all balances out.” Ron shrugged philosophically. “C’mon, let’s get back to these diaries. No way I want to spend more time on them than I absolutely have to.”
With one last look at the now closed entrance to the common room Harry turned back to the chart in front of him and wracked his brains for monstrous ways he could die that he hadn’t used yet.
:-:-:-:-:
“Harry…?”
Hearing that wheedling tone of voice, Harry felt himself go on guard.
“Yeah?” He could feel that Hermione wanted something; something he probably wanted no part of.
“Remember how we were talking about recalling dreams a few days ago?”
“You mean that argument you had with Ron about our Divination homework?” Harry wasn’t proud of the tactic, but he really hoped that keeping Hermione distracted would lead to less embarrassment in the long run. For a moment her scowl gave him hope, but it quickly melted back into the slight pout she had been wearing before.
“That one. See, I’ve been doing some research and-”
“We’ve already handed the assignment in, Hermione.” Harry tried.
“I know, but surely you can see the real-world benefits of allowing people more insight into their dreams. I mean we could help people understand themselves better, possibly even overcome traumas!”
“Oookkaaay… then why are you bringing it up with me? I mean, I doubt I could really help you.”
“No, you can!” Hermione exclaimed quickly.
For a moment Harry felt himself balancing on an edge, unsure of what he should do. The pair of pleading brown eyes in front of him finally pushed him over.
“Fine.” He sighed. “I’ll help you with your project.”
“Yay! Thank you, Harry!” Hermione almost squealed as she jumped forward to pull him into a hug.
“Just don’t tell Ron, okay? He’d never let this go.”
“Deal!” Hermione beamed as she stepped back.
“I take it you’ve already found a way to recall dreams?” Harry asked. If they were going to do this, he might as well get started.
“Possibly. I was hoping you’d help me test it out… and make it?”
“Make it?!” Harry asked in surprise.
“Please, Harry?”
“I- yeah, fine, Hermione. I said I’d help, right?” Harry felt like he had done something worthwhile when Hermione shot him another beaming smile before launching into her explanation of what she wanted to do. She spends enough time listening to me talk Quidditch. I can at least do this much for her.
“… so when we have everything we could start weaving!” Hermione finished expectantly. Harry promptly cursed himself for letting his thoughts wander, no matter how well-intentioned. Nothing for it but to bluff my way through now.
“Right. What do we need to do to get what we need?” Harry asked, hoping that he would at least get an overview of what he’d missed when Hermione gave her usual thorough answer.
“Let’s see… we should be able to find some holly boughs at the edge of the Forbidden Forest… amethysts are not excessively rare, but they’re not exactly free either. We could probably pick up a suitable piece next time we visit Hogsmeade. I think it’s the Wampus hair that’s going to give us trouble.” Hermione shot Harry an apologetic look as she paused in her list. “The Wampus Cat is only found in North America and not a lot of wizards spend time collecting their hair. Almost none export to Europe so we’re going to have to rely on an international delivery service; that’s not going to be cheap. We’re going to have to order quite a bit too.”
Wampus hair? I really missed the important part here. Apparently unnerved by his lack of immediate response, Hermione hurried on.
“Maybe we can look at doing some odd jobs to raise the money. We could charge for tutoring services.”
“Don’t worry about it, Hermione. The contents of my vault isn’t doing anyone any good right now so we might as well put it towards a project that could end up helping people.”
“Are you sure, Harry? I don’t want you to think that I asked you to join because of your money.” Hermione asked as she twisted the hem of her jumper.
“It’s fine. Besides, I know you asked me to get revenge for me talking about Quidditch all of the time.” He watched Hermione blink in surprise at the unexpected joke before smiling at him.
“You’d better believe it, Potter. Vengeance shall be ever so sweet.”
“You need to work on your maniacal tone.” Harry deadpanned, getting a snort of laughter in return. “Anyway, tell me some more about how this is supposed to work.”
Hermione promptly launched into another explanation of the idea she had come up with and this time Harry made sure to pay more attention.
:-:-:-:-:
“Finally!” Ron exclaimed happily. “I was beginning to think that they wouldn’t let us out of the castle at all!”
Hermione shook her head slightly in exasperation as she and Harry followed their friend down the trail towards Hogsmeade.
“This isn’t like the other trips we’ve been on, Ron. We’re prefects now; we have to keep an eye on the other students.”
“Don’t worry, Hermione. We can just check Zonko’s first, then we can head to Honeydukes and we’ll finish up by checking the Three Broomsticks.” Ron quipped. She stifled the urge to groan. What Professor McGonagall was thinking making Ron the boys’ prefect instead of Harry I will never know.
Before the year started, Hermione had been absolutely sure that Harry would be elevated to the position. There was no one else in their year who commanded the kind of respect he did.
She dearly wanted to believe that the Professors had a good reason for not choosing him, but moments like this made her doubt that any reason could be convincing enough to justify the decision that had been made. Certainly, Harry’s claims that he had caused too much trouble over the years were tripe as far as Hermione was concerned. There was no way that Harry would have blown off his responsibilities like this.
On the other hand, with that Umbridge woman in the castle, his occlumency classes and the general tide of public opinion, Harry probably had enough on his plate without also having to chase down troublemakers at every turn. There was also the added benefit of having him available to browse the local shops for the items they would need to continue their project.
When they reached the village, Ron was off like a shot, almost disappearing among the milling students.
“Drat! I’m sorry, Harry. Could you-”
“Don’t worry, Hermione. I’ll find the things we need.” Harry interrupted her with a small smile.
“Thanks. I promise I’ll make it up to you. I just really need to make sure that Ron does at least some of the duties he’s supposed to.” Hermione offered apologetically.
“Just make sure you remember to have some fun yourself, Hermione. I don’t want to see you as exhausted as you were when you had that Time Turner.”
“I’ll take some time for myself.” Hermione promised, feeling a little pleased at the note of concern in Harry’s voice. “Now remember: it needs to be a white amethyst. And if Dervish and Bangs can’t help with the Wampus hair order you can try the local branch of Ollivander’s. Wampus hair is sometimes used as a wand core in America. And-”
“Hermione! I remember.” Harry interrupted. For just a moment Hermione thought she could hear a slight undercurrent of laughter in his voice.
“I know. I’m sorry.” She admitted. “Come find me when you’re done?”
“Of course.” Harry agreed easily lifting his hand in a wave as he headed off to do their shopping. Hermione watched him go for a moment longer before squaring her shoulders and hurrying after Ron. Goodness only knows what kind of mischief he’ll encourage if the younger years see a prefect buying banned products.
Finding her fellow prefect cheerfully rooting around a bin of discounted Dungbombs near their sell by date only confirmed to Hermione that she had been right to worry. She only managed to pull Ron out of there by reminding him that he wouldn’t be able to buy any sweets or Butterbeer if he spent all of his money on pranks that she was going to confiscate if he actually tried to smuggle them into the castle.
Ron spent the walk over to Honeyduke’s grousing as he always did when someone brought up his financial situation. Thankfully the bounty in that store soon had him distracted and he forgot all about nursing his injured pride.
As much as a dentist’s daughter might disapprove of the amount of sweets being bought, she couldn’t object on the basis of school rules. After a while, being in a place where, short of shoplifting, there was no potential rule breaking she could keep an eye out for started to wear on Hermione. I should be outside, keeping an eye on students getting into mischief. Even Zonko’s offers more of a chance to do what we’re supposed to; or would if Ron wasn’t trying to turn himself into the prime offender.
It felt like it took an eternity for Ron to choose his final purchase. Hermione had almost offered to just buy his Butterbeer for him, if only to stop the ridiculous weighing of his options while keeping the price of the desired drink in mind for later. Just in time she’d realised that it wouldn’t solve the problem, only change the amount of money Ron was trying to stuff as many treats as possible into.
Once they had made it back out into the street Hermione did everything she could to not hurry along to the Three Broomsticks. She knew that once they had entered the pub there would be no chance of convincing Ron to go back outside and patrol, so this was going to have to do. Eventually she couldn’t hold off Ron’s desire to get out of the autumn chill any more than her own to see Harry and learn how the shopping had gone.
“Man, I hope Harry got here ahead of us and got us a table.” Ron complained as they pushed their way into the packed bar. Hermione was too busy keeping up with him to answer. “Brilliant! He did!” Hermione had to take Ron’s word for it, unable to see over the press herself. She focused on following his back through the crowd as he pushed and shoved forward. “Harry! Mate!”
“Hey, Ron. Where’s Hermione?” Harry’s voice sounded from the other side of a wall of humanity.
“I’m right here, Harry.” she called back. “Sit down already, Ron.” Ron thankfully did as she asked, and Hermione found herself facing a table in the corner. Harry had taken up position on a small bench that sat back against the wall while Ron was lowering himself into one of the chairs across from their friend. As Hermione slid onto the bench next to Harry, Ron spoke up again.
“Guess there’s some good to you being a nutter, mate.” the redhead laughed. “There’s no way this lot would have let you have a table all by yourself if they weren’t worried about being seen with you.
“Ron!” Hermione snapped, scandalised. Harry actually had a half smile on his face at the insensitive comment though.
“Glad we finally found a bright side to that whole situation.” he snorted sardonically. “While we’re at it maybe this year Halloween won’t bring some horrendous experience with it either; you know, just for the sake of variety.” The two boys promptly launched into possible scenarios that could occur if this year’s Halloween held true to form. A surprising number of these included Umbridge turning into a monstrous toad and each scenario was more ridiculous than the last.
Hermione understood that her friends were just trying to vent their frustrations with their Defence Professor, especially Harry who was in that woman’s office every other night writing lines. Given the censorship the Ministry was putting her friend through, she couldn’t even blame him for his detentions. All the same, the conversation wore at her. Hermione had never seen the point in disparaging a teacher. It never led to anything productive and having to listen to it now was only making her more aware of the fact that she couldn’t have the conversation she really wanted to.
The young witch found herself starting to fidget as the nervous energy built up inside of her. She was so on edge that she almost leapt off the bench in surprise when she felt a hand grabbing her own.
“You alright, Hermione?” Ron asked, having seen her start but not what had happened under the table.
“Fine, Ron.” Hermione responded absently. Her mind was busy processing what she was feeling. For Harry to have taken her hand was certainly outside of the norm. She might hug him, she might even have kissed his cheek last year when they left Kings Cross to go home, but Harry never initiated physical contact with anyone. Her surprise at this move on his part had almost kept her from realising that something hard was digging through her mitten and into her palm. It took a monumental effort of will to bring her mind back to what was happening above the table. “I was just a little lost in my thoughts and someone bumped me.”
Ron gave her an odd look for a moment before shrugging and taking what she said at face value.
“You know, Ron, Hermione’s probably just distracted wondering what we’ve gotten her for her birthday.” Harry grinned. Under the table Hermione could feel him turning their hands so hers was on the bottom, palm up. He then let go to reach for something next to him which left Hermione holding whatever hard object had been caught between their hands.
Hermione snuck a look down and saw that she was now holding a pair of perfectly clear stones. A small hole appeared to have been drilled through each one, just big enough for a thin cord to be pulled through. The amethyst! He did it! She turned to beam at her best friend only to find him holding out a wrapped package.
“Happy birthday, Hermione.” Harry said as he laid it on the table in front of her.
“My birthday was weeks ago, Harry.”
“Yeah, but I haven’t had a chance to go shopping before now, so now is when you get your present.” Harry grinned. His eyes darted across the table and Hermione caught Ron scowling slightly. “It’s from both of us.” The shock on Ron’s face only underscored that Harry’s loyalty was admirable, but that the lie was absolutely pathetic.
“Well, you didn’t have to, but thank you.” Hermione demurred before deciding to let sleeping dogs lie. “Both of you.” As she spoke she slipped the amethyst into her coat pocket, so she could accept the gift. She eagerly tore into the wrapping and after a flurry of ripped paper found herself holding a heavy book. Midnight blue letters pressed into a light blue leather binding informed her that this book was called Dream Strider.
“The shop attendant said that it’s a ‘meta-analysis of various traditionally developed astral-projection and sleep magics’.” Harry rattled off. “Not entirely sure what he meant, but it sounds like something that would make you say ‘Fascinating!’.”
On the other side of the table Ron burst into sniggers at Harry’s explanation. “I can so imagine that coming out of her mouth.”
“Hmph. It sounds like it really will be fascinating.” Hermione sniffed in response.
“That’s good.” Harry jumped in, clearly hoping to avoid an argument. “That’s why we got it for you after all.”
Hermione took a breath to calm herself. Harry was right that starting a fight over a gift was a silly thing to do, especially since she knew that he was giving her this on top of helping with her project. She also forced herself to admit that she didn’t really blame Harry for not wanting to involve Ron in this; the ribbing would not only be annoying, it would be a distraction.
As the boys’ talk unsurprisingly turned to quidditch and Gryffindor’s chances at the cup, Hermione allowed her fingers to caress the pages of her new book. As they travelled up the stack, she frowned in consternation; something had felt off. She ran her fingers along the pages again. There! There’s something there, I’m sure of it.
Opening the book in her lap, Hermione began to flip through it. When she got to the part where she had felt the irregularity a piece of parchment slipped out of the book. Her hand darted out and caught it before it could flutter to the ground. For a brief moment she was worried that the book had been damaged.
Then she read the words.
In her hand she held the receipt for an order for a skein of Wampus hair. Hermione had to force back her initial urge to grab Harry in a tight hug and make sure that he knew just how good of a friend he was. Instead she settled for reaching out and grabbing his hand under the table in a reciprocation of his earlier gesture.
Harry didn’t acknowledge the contact with more than a flick of his eyes to meet hers before he returned to his conversation with Ron. When she squeezed his hand though, he responded in kind without hesitation. Hermione couldn’t stop smiling as she sat there with her new book in one hand and Harry’s hand in the other. The feeling of a conversation without words between the two of them, a conversation no one else even knew was taking place, was intoxicating.
Over the weeks that followed Hermione’s smile returned to her face whenever she pulled her book out for some bedtime reading and her mind wandered back to Three Broomsticks. The feelings she had experienced as she sat there on a small, wooden bench led to her labelling her and Harry’s project as their ‘clandestine research’. If anyone ever found out about that she would claim that the fault lay with her father’s fondness for James Bond films she decided.
:-:-:-:-:
Harry was confused. For the past two weeks Hermione had been walking around with a secretive smile on her face every time she caught sight of him. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust his friend, but something was up and he hated not knowing things like that. He’d been bitten too often by not knowing something; occasionally the bites had even been literal.
Whenever he tried to bring it up with Hermione though she would either ignore his questions or change the subject so quickly that Harry was certain she knew exactly what he meant. Nothing he did could get her to open up about what was so funny. The only thing she had said about it was “A girl needs a few secrets, Harry.” It was a sentence that bothered him to no end.
That morning though, he received a perfect chance for a little revenge. At breakfast, the arrival of the usual swarm of owls brought a visitor. An owl Harry had never seen before landed in front of him with a parcel strapped to its legs.
Harry quickly fed it some bacon as he untied his delivery. He wasted no time tucking the package into his bag, ignoring the curious stares he could feel coming from all around him. Looking up he found Ron staring at him intently.
“Was that from Snuffles?” he asked, clearly trying to sound perfectly casual.
“Not really the time or the place, mate.” Harry reminded him. Even with the code name, they usually refrained from speaking about Sirius in public, just in case someone put two and two together. Ron nodded in understanding and went back to his breakfast. A quick glance to his side told Harry that Hermione was giving him an almost pleading stare. He saw her eyes dart across the table to check that Ron was giving the plate in front of him his full attention.
“Is it the you-know-what?” she whispered so softly that Harry had barely heard her. He shrugged at her with a smirk.
“A guy needs a few secrets now and then, Hermione.” He responded smugly.
“Yeah, and don’t you dare go telling her about them.” Ron interrupted causing Hermione’s head to snap around to face him disapprovingly.
“Chew your food!” she shot out. “I felt a gob of sausage landing on me.”
Ron responded by very obviously chewing with his mouth open at Hermione. Harry decided to just leave things be since neither Ron nor Hermione was currently trying to ask him questions about the delivery he had just received.
As they walked to class, Harry was reasonably sure that Ron had forgotten all about the mystery package, but the shrewd look Hermione was giving him told him that there was no way it had slipped that prodigious mind. It also appeared that Hermione might have guessed what was in the package as she didn’t bring it up for the rest of the day. In fact, the package didn’t come up again until Harry was about to go to bed that evening.
The common room had been slowly, but steadily emptying around him as more and more Gryffindor’s felt Morpheus’ call. Harry would have joined them, but Ron had managed to wheedle a few more games of chess out of him. That Hermione was still sitting on a couch with her face buried in the book he had gotten her for her birthday hadn’t struck a single Gryffindor as strange or different. Finally though, even Ron had had enough.
“Checkmate, Harry.” the redhead grinned, only to lose his smile to a jaw-cracking yawn. “Oh man, that’s it for me. I’m off to bed.” he said, gathering up his chess set. “You coming, Harry?”
“No, he isn’t.” Hermione spoke up causing the two boys to look at her in surprise. “You asked me to look over your Potions homework for tomorrow and there are some changes that you definitely need to make.” she told Harry sternly.
“You can’t be serious, Hermione.” Ron protested. “How’s Harry supposed to think about Potions at this time of night?”
“If he didn’t want my help, he shouldn’t have asked for it and then spent the evening playing around.” Hermione sniffed.
“Go ahead, Ron.” Harry said in a resigned tone. “You know Hermione isn’t going to let this go.” Ron looked like he was about to protest some more but managed to restrain himself to a shrug.
“Don’t let her keep you up all night.” he warned Harry sotto voce. “You know we can’t keep up with her when she gets going, so don’t even try.” Harry nodded to show that he’d understood and Ron clapped him on the shoulder. “Good night, then.” Ron offered both of them before heading up the stairs to the boys’ dorm. Hermione’s eyes followed him until he was out of sight and then snapped over to Harry.
“You received the Wampus hair this morning, didn’t you?” she asked without preamble. Harry just nodded, having already guessed what this would be about. “Good. That means that we can start building our dreamcatchers.”
Harry still wasn’t sure if this was really going to work. Dreamcatchers were known in the muggle world too and seemed to be mostly decorative. Still, if Hermione thought that this would work then he was prepared to give it a go.
“I think I have the necessary runes mapped out. It’ll take me some time to etch them onto the amethysts though, so I won’t be able to weave the webs until after that. We want the holly boughs to be as fresh as possible when we’re assembling them.”
“Why don’t I just do the weaving?” Harry asked. “I doubt it would be much harder than sewing clothes.” Hermione blinked up at him in surprise.
“You sew?” Harry just nodded, not wanting to get into why sewing had been a necessary skill at the Dursleys’. “Well, I suppose you should be able to handle this then. The pattern isn’t difficult, just repetitive. Are you sure you’ll be able to keep working precisely for the amount of time this is likely to take?”
“I’m sure.”
“Alright then.” Hermione relented. “When should we get the holly boughs?”
“I’ll do it on the way back from detention.” Harry offered. “That should save us having to make up excuses for where we went.”
“Good point.” Hermione agreed. “How are your detentions going, anyway? Is Professor Umbridge still making you write lines?” Harry’s hand reflexively pulled a little farther into the sleeve of his robe.
“Yeah.’ he muttered.
“Well, it could be worse then I suppose.” Hermione sighed. “Just try to keep them to a minimum, hmm? It’s our O.W.L. year after all.”
“I’ll try.” Harry said through a smile that felt more like a grimace. “Now, unless my Potions homework really was that bad, I was ready for bed an hour ago.”
“While it could be improved on, it wasn’t anywhere near as bad as I led Ronald to believe.” Hermione allowed with a small smile. “Sleep well, Harry.”
“Yeah. You too.”
When Harry was finally ensconced behind his bed’s hangings he looked at the back of his right hand. The angry red of the words had barely faded since the end of his last detention. Just man up, Potter. You know that’s the only thing you can do Harry thought to himself as he laid down. Closing his eyes, he pulled his covers up and did his best to will himself to sleep.
:-:-:-:-:
Harry’s next detention did not take long to arrive. He sat through it as unresponsively as possible. He remembered the lessons he had learnt at Privet Drive and made sure not to give his tormentor anything she could latch on to for the sake of causing him further pain.
After what felt like hours of writing the same sentence over and over in his own blood, Harry was starting to feel light-headed. He was almost grateful that Umbridge came over and unceremoniously inspected the back of his hand. She gave a short nod before turning a hard, if smug, look at him.
“That will be all for today, Mr. Potter.” She said in that high girly voice. “Remember that if anyone finds out about my precious possessions I will have to assume that you intend to fully share your punishments with them.” These were the same words that she always used to end his detentions.
“Yes, Madam Umbridge.” Harry responded emotionlessly.
“You may go.”
As Harry walked out of the Defence Classroom he managed to remind himself that he wasn’t supposed to go straight to the common room. He ducked into one of the castle’s many secret corridors as soon as he could.
Sure that he was out of sight of both Umbridge and any portraits that might report back to her, Harry risked a look at the back of his hand. He bit back a curse when he saw that the marks which until tonight had only been an angry red, like a friction burn, were now bleeding slightly like a cat scratch.
Damn it all, this is going to make it much harder to hide. At least this will probably have stopped by the time I make it back up to the common room. Harry shook his head as if it would help him dislodge the unpleasant thoughts. As his feet turned towards a little used exit that would allow him to make a quick dash towards the Forbidden Forest, Harry found his mind turning back to Umbridge’s final words.
‘That will be all for today, Mr. Potter. Remember that if anyone finds out about my precious possessions I will have to assume that you intend to fully share your punishments with them.’
It was a blatant threat. Not that Harry was particularly surprised the Under-Secretary would resort to such things. Umbridge wasn’t disciplining him after all, she was trying to silence him. He also knew exactly who was the most likely to both find out what was going on and to draw Umbridge’s bigoted attention.
No! I won’t let that happen. I’m not sure how, but I will never let Umbridge near my friends.
Focusing on that determination worked better than trying to ignore his thoughts all together and Harry found himself making good progress. His only distraction from his worries was the brief sprint across the open fields to the edge of the forest.
Once he was hidden under the leaves of the trees he found that their shadows darkened the already black night. Not wanting an encounter with something worse than holly thorns, Harry drew his wand.
“Lumos.” he incanted quietly. As soon as light erupted from his wand Harry began sweeping it back and forth across the walls of plants around him.
It only took a few minutes to find what he was looking for; any second year Herbology student would have been able to do as much. Cutting Charms made quick work of several long, supple branches allowing Harry to tug them out of the thickets they had grown through. He extinguished his Torch Charm and hurried back into the castle.
He hadn’t wanted to bring his father’s invisibility cloak to the detention for fear of Umbridge confiscating it. The inevitable downside was that he was now going to have to dodge the patrolling prefects and teachers on his way back up to Gryffindor Tower. They usually patrol the corridors with the fewest paintings in them. Stick to the secret passages as much as possible and make sure to use your ears.
In the end Harry discovered that he had worried needlessly as he ran across precisely no authority figures on his way up to the Fat Lady. He did his best to ignore her disapproving expression as he gave her the password.
There were still quite a few people in the common room at this hour, working on homework, letters home or simply talking with friends. Harry imagined that he could hear a rustle of heads turning away as one once the curious onlookers had identified the newcomer. He saw Hermione and Ron sitting together at one of the tables. Ron was just getting pulled back into his seat by Hermione and Harry interpreted her jabs at his parchment as a warning that she wasn’t going to let him leave until his homework was done.
This wasn’t the first time this had happened. It had even happened to Harry once or twice. If Hermione became convinced that they were slacking too much in their studies she would take the offender apart and make him work on whatever was outstanding until they were caught up to her satisfaction.
Harry gave Ron a look of commiseration which was received with a slight grin before the redhead focused his concentration back on the parchment before him. Harry’s eyes shifted over to Hermione who was giving him a hopeful look. Harry nodded as slightly as he could in an effort to convey that he had indeed collected the last of their supplies and was now going to get to work on weaving the dreamcatcher. Hermione’s answering smile was almost surprising in how much happiness it conveyed.
Feeling oddly like he had missed a step, Harry quickly made his way up to his dorm. He went through his ablutions in record time and ducked through the hangings of his four-poster. Inside he found the holly boughs that he had just put there, the skein of Wampus hair and a slip of parchments with the instructions for weaving a dreamcatcher written out in Hermione’s neat hand.
As he reached out for the parchment he noticed that the words on the back of his hand had already scabbed over. Come to think of it, maybe some repetitive drudgery is just what I need. It used to help a bit with the Dursleys.
With that thought firmly in mind, Harry picked up the instructions and got to work.
:-:-:-:
Hermione felt so excited that she had to check if she wasn’t vibrating. She had just finished carving the first runic array she had designed by herself. Sure, it was largely based on another, but with a new input this was now her design.
Technically, Hermione knew, Professor Babbling had strictly forbidden experimenting with new runic arrays; had in fact gone into great detail on the potential dangers of doing so. Hermione knew she was treading on the edges of that prohibition but reminded herself that she wasn’t creating so much as adapting and that she had a thorough understanding of the principles involved; they had covered this particular array, the same one that recorded images in a magical camera, extensively in class after all.
That she had finished meant that it was time to combine Harry’s work with hers to, hopefully, produce a new magical tool. Hermione forced herself to leave the two stones hidden in her trunk, despite her desire to take them with her. They’ll only be a distraction. Heaven knows Professor McGonagall would probably pick up on the fact that I was spending more time looking in my bag than paying attention within a minute.
Hermione took a deep breath to regain some control. It wouldn’t do to appear too flustered or excited when she had no way to explain the source of those emotions to most of Hogwarts. With a firm nod to reaffirm to herself that she could handle this, Hermione slung her bookbag over her shoulder and headed down to breakfast.
She arrived at the Great Hall early enough that it was still sparsely populated. A familiar head of messy black hair could be seen already sitting at the Gryffindor table though. Harry wasn’t as consistently early to breakfast as Hermione was, but this was hardly the first time he’d made it down before her. It was a little unusual to see Cho Chang walking away from him, but with the number of detentions Harry had been receiving recently Hermione could only agree with the Head Girl giving him a talking to. Not that it’s going to help since it’s not all Harry’s fault, but at least she’s taking her job seriously.
Hermione’s feet carried her over to Harry’s side without a second thought and she sat down next to him. His head came up to look at her for a moment; it was enough for Hermione to note the rings under his eyes.
“I take it you finished the inscriptions?” he murmured softly. Hermione blinked in surprise for a moment, before reprimanding herself. I should know better. I can read Harry better than just about anyone else after being his friend for so long. Should I really have expected him to have experienced those same interactions without learning to do the same to me? Still, I was trying to hide it, so…
“Am I being obvious?” she asked in a similarly low tone. Harry looked her over again and shrugged. Hermione took that to mean ‘probably not, but I’m not awake enough to make a proper assessment’. “Alright then.” Hermione took her time assembling her breakfast as she surreptitiously watched her friend.
He looks like he’s barely gotten a wink of sleep. I hope that these dreamcatchers work; if only for a chance to get Harry past whatever has him down here on those early mornings.
The rest of breakfast passed more or less silently until they were joined by a grumbling Ron. Their redheaded friend didn’t look much more awake than Harry did, but Hermione payed it no attention; Ron looked like that every morning.
Classes passed torturously slowly that day, which was an unusual experience for a confessed bibliophile. Hermione just couldn’t help it though. The challenge of her ‘clandestine project’ sat just out of reach, tempting her with the promise of far more intellectual achievement than even a fifth-year Hogwarts class could offer.
It didn’t help that, even when classes had ended, Hermione was forced to sit on her anticipation through supper, homework and waiting for everyone to go to bed as well. It got to the point where Harry announcing that he was heading up to bed as Ron was already climbing the stairs almost had her leaping out of her chair in protest. Harry took it all in stride though and simply pulled her into a hug rather than leaving her hanging in an awkward stance that hovered between sitting and standing.
“I have to get the dreamcatchers for you, don’t I? This way should be better for hiding what we’re doing.” Harry’s voice whispered in her ear as her arms came around him. She gave him an extra tight squeeze to let him know that she’d understood. Stepping back, she graced him with a beaming smile.
“Good night, Harry.” she told him fondly. That inner James Bond of his really is something. I wonder if he even knows he’s doing it? Hermione thought as she watched him head up. She decided that she wouldn’t bring it up with Harry; after all, he might stop if she pointed it out to him and she found that she really didn’t want him to.
Hermione sat back down and picked up her book. She tried to dive back into the flow of reading, but something niggled at her. Looking up to determine what it was, Hermione found that several heads turned away from her abruptly as if they didn’t want to be caught staring. Several others didn’t and were looking at her with slightly smug smiles. One or two were even aiming glares at her.
What the-? Hermione was stunned that she had apparently become a centre of the common room’s attention. Running the last several minutes back through her mind revealed the problem in a flash of insight. They’ve realised that Harry hugged me rather than the other way around. Drat. Hermione knew that by lunchtime tomorrow the rumour mill would just about have her and Harry fornicating on one of the couches. Not that they haven’t come up with similar stories before but… it’s just so exhausting to deal with every time. Especially when it feels like everyone and their owl are already having a go at Harry.
With a sigh, Hermione got up and made her way up to her own dorm. There was no way she was going to be able read with all those stares digging into her. I’ll just have to adopt the same approach as Harry.
As she was getting ready for bed, Hermione managed to slip the carved amethysts out of her trunk with her nightgown so that she could smuggle them into her bed without her roommates noticing. Safely ensconced by her four-poster’s curtains, Hermione changed and settled down to the reading that Gryffindor’s collective curiosity had denied her in the common room.
As happened frequently to the young witch, she lost herself completely in her book. The outside world faded away as she sank into its pages until only the words she was reading were real. It was perhaps not so strange then that a shocked “Eep!” escaped her when her bed lit up with a silver glow. Standing at the foot of her bed she saw a stately glowing stag.
“Prongs…” Hermione breathed out, awed at seeing Harry’s patronus. It didn’t take long for awe to be booted out by realisation. “What time is it?!” A quick glance at her watch told Hermione that midnight had come and gone. Harry must be waiting for me downstairs. “Can you let him know that I’m coming?” she asked the apparition in front of her in a rare bout of irrationality. The stag, lowered its head and turned around before walking downhill through her mattress and the floor. Hermione decided to take that as agreement and hurriedly slipped her dressing gown and slippers on. A quick check to make sure that she was carrying her carved amethysts later she was rushing down the stairs. At the bottom of the stairs Hermione found a common room that was entirely dark, but for the glow of smouldering coals in the fire place.
“Lumos.” Hermione incanted quietly. A hand thrown up to ward eyes that had become adjusted to the dark told her where Harry was. “Sorry.” she whispered out, pointing her wand at the floor, unsure whether she was apologising for the light or the wait.
“‘s okay.” Harry mumbled. Hermione could see that he was blinking the stars out of his vision. “Should we get started?” Her wand-beam followed his hand as it moved and illuminated a pair of tightly woven dreamcatchers lying on the couch next to him.
“Let’s.” she agreed. The process of slipping the carved amethysts onto the tails of Wampus hair that Harry had left on the dreamcatchers was such a quick and easy process that it felt almost anti-climactic. In less than two minutes Hermione and Harry each had the finished product in their laps. “I suppose that the only thing left to do now is hang them over our beds and… wait.” Next to her, Harry nodded slowly.
“Sweet dreams then?” he asked with a tinge of humour. Hermione couldn’t stop a snort of amusement escaping.
“Yes, sweet dreams, Harry.” she agreed with an unseen eyeroll of fond exasperation at the joke. Neither friend particularly felt like drawing out the already late night and soon both were tucked into their beds, fast asleep underneath their new invention.
Hermione had taken only just enough time before falling asleep to start the most important part of any scientific research: a record of observations.
:-:-:-:-:
Excerpt from Hermione Granger’s research notes
Day 1
Construction of dreamcatchers completed today. Hanging above the beds of Harry Potter and Hermione Granger to start data collection. Construction methods to be included in an appendix.