Post Hogwarts: A Story

POST HOGWARTS : A STORY

Chapter 1: The Dream

Hermione sat in her living room, drumming her fingers on the coffee table, only pausing to glance up at the clock every few minutes.

"Hmph just like Ginny to be late," She muttered to herself.

It was Friday afternoon and she had had a long week. Today was one of Ginny's scheduled twice a month visits and Hermione found herself looking forward to it. She was not quite sure what they were doing tonight so she dressed smartly in a long, grey woolen skirt and a white, sleeved shirt.

"This would work for any event," She had thought as she had picked it out.

Hermione looked up at the clock once more; Ginny was now three quarters of an hour late. She was just about to go into her bedroom and pull on a t-shirt and crawl into bed, thinking that Ginny had forgotten about their scheduled rendezvous, when she heard a small pop.

"Sorry I'm late Mines, I got held back at the studio and then I got mobbed by some fans…" Ginny appeared in her living room, belting out one excuse after the other.

Hermione looked at her friend while she was chattering. She could not help but notice how much her friend had changed over the past few years. Hermione liked the new Ginny; she was like a breath of fresh air, brutally honest. In addition, she had certainly grown into a beautiful young woman. Ginny had reminded Hermione of a pretty muggle actress, Alicia Witt.

"What the hell are you wearing?" Ginny finished.

"Clothes. What are we doing tonight?" Hermione answered.

Ginny looked at her friend.

"How could anybody be so clueless and not know it?" she thought.

Hermione was so beautiful. She was 5'8 tall, three whole inches taller than Ginny's own 5'5; three inches which Ginny would have gladly killed for; beautiful, long, silky hair that cascaded down her back, a small neat face with the prettiest of features; huge brown eyes and pouting red lips. She even had the perfect body and as far as Ginny knew, Hermione never worked out. Ginny had also noticed her breasts. Hermione had great breasts. Ginny herself had to resort to plastic surgery a few years ago to attain the ‘perfect shape'.

The figure that stood before her on the other hand was a complete monstrosity. Huge ugly glasses was slowly finding its way down her nose bridge, hair pulled back into a plait like that of school days, an oversized white shirt that hid every curve…this girl was a definite disaster.

"We're going to a club and I'll be damned if I take you any place looking like that." Ginny replied.

"What's wrong with my outfit?" Hermione asked.

"Nothing if you were my grandmother. How about we start with what's right with it?" Ginny answered. "And the answer is nothing!"

"I like the way Gram Weasley dresses and I like the way I look," Hermione said indignantly.

"No way. You can keep the skirt if you like but everything else goes." Ginny said eyeing her.

Ten minutes later they were dressed and ready to hit the road; Ginny successful in getting Hermione to loose the glasses and the braid. She had a little less luck in the top department. Hermione would only agree to a black peasant top.

* * * *

"I'd like a strawberry daiquiri and for my friend…"

"An orange juice," Hermione finished for her.

Both women picked up their drinks from the bar and headed towards an empty booth.

"I thought we were here to have fun?" Ginny questioned Hermione, indicating to her orange juice as they slid into the booth.

"I can have fun perfectly well without alcohol," Hermione replied.

Ginny sighed and rolled her eyes. Hermione never allowed herself to lighten up, not even for a moment.

"So," Hermione began "did you decide yet, on Draco or Seamus I mean?"

Ginny waved her off "Let's not bring them up. I am pretty sick of thinking about it okay. Let's talk about something more pleasant…let's talk about you."

"What about me?" Hermione arched an eyebrow.

"You seriously need to get shagged that's what!"

"Ginny!"

"Hermione! So what? When was the last time you had sex anyway?"

"Is sex all you ever talk about?"

"Yes and don't change the subject."

"Not that it is any of your business Ginny Weasley, but about five years ago."

Ginny sputtered out her drink.

"You have actually had sex? You, the perennial virgin? You, Ms.-I-can't-have-a-drink-because-I-am-too-frigid-to-even-think-about-it? You?"

"Would you stop that? Your eyes look like they are about to pop. Yes me. I don't see what the big deal is anyway. And besides why did you ask if you already had preconceptions concerning my virginal status?"

"Honestly, I must say that I never expected you to be the type who indulged in carnal pleasures."

"You already implied that," Hermione pointed out.

"Umm yeah I know. Anyway, who was he? How? Where? When Why?"

"Just some guy. I seriously don't remember his name. It was just an experiment. I just wanted to see what the big hype was about. Unfortunately sex is way overrated."

Ginny's jaw dropped even further down.

"You had a one night stand? And with someone you didn't even know? Bloody hell woman, do I even know you?"

"I don't believe I said it was a one night stand now did I? It was more like two nights," Hermione said with a sigh.

"Hermione," Ginny's tone softened "don't let that spoil it for you. The only reason you felt the way you did is because it was just sex. No emotions were involved. Oh sweetie, when you're in love it is so different you'll see."

Hermione turned away at this point and Ginny decided to change the subject noticing the grim look that had appeared on her best friend's face.

"Guess what?" Ginny asked suddenly all peppy.

"What?"

"We are about to get free drinks all night long."

"Do you know the owner or something?"

"No. See those two cute guys over there that are looking over here? They're going to buy them for us."

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The putrid stench of death was everywhere. It filled his nostrils. In the distance he could hear screams and they pierced him like a knife. Those awful screams. They sounded like the screams of tormented souls. Souls that were long forgotten by humanity, souls that were left for torture in the black abyss of nothingness. Nothingness. That was exactly what being in this place felt like. It was a black void, devoid of humanity and love, devoid of the very existence of life. For miles and miles, all he could see was blackness. It was like being in outer space, just without the beautiful stars and the wonderful feeling that went along with it. Quite the opposite. It felt like he was in the middle of an inferno. It was hot and getting hotter by the minute. He was sweating beads of perspiration. He swiped his hand across his brow to wipe off the sweat, but when he brought his hand back down, he noticed that the liquid was red. Blood. He was bleeding. He looked down at his hand again. The skin was beginning to melt off. Probably from all the heat. He resisted the urge to scream. His head was starting to pound. The heat was getting to him. He was suffocating. He gasped for breath; his breathing getting harder and faster as he tried to suck in what little air was left. But being here was far better than being where the screams came from. This he knew. Out here was heaven compared to being in there. He winced hard all of a sudden as a stab of pain hit him. It felt like someone…something was trying to chew his ear off. He screamed a gut-wrenching scream.

Harry eyes flicked open. He was vaguely aware of his surroundings. It took him a moment to register where he was. Then he remembered he was in his bedroom, where he had fallen asleep the night before. He felt someone stroking his hair and he looked over to his side. Veridian lay next to him, her face etched with worry.

"Harry," she asked, "are you alright?"

"I am okay," he said flatly.

"But you were screaming. I had awoken feeling a bit sexy so I started nibbling on you ear, hoping that it would have aroused you but instead you started to scream and…"

Harry looked over at her and realized that she was feeling a little dejected. He sighed.

"It wasn't her fault. Don't take it out on her. Tell her. She may be able to help you," he heard a little voice in his head say. Then he realised something. For the first time since he started having the dreams, he remembered them. Now it dawned on him why he always woke up in cold sweat. The dreams were horrible. He made a quick check to ensure that his ear was intact and then proceeded to give his attention to Veridian. She was so beautiful with her long honey blond hair and liquid green eyes. He was still amazed at the fact that someone so beautiful and kind could want someone like him.

* * * *

They had met one day while shopping for groceries. Harry had gotten a craving for his favourite mango/lemon juice and ran down to the grocery to pick up a bottle. In his haste to get back home to look at his favourite program, he absentmindedly grabbed at the first bottle that he laid eyes on, only she had reached for it too. Harry had graciously offered it to her, while stating his disbelief that he actually met someone else who had liked the flavour.

"Most people just turn up their noses at the mention of it," he had told her.

She had smiled and introduced herself and asked for his name.

"You mean you don't know who I am?" he had asked.

"Am I supposed to?" she smiled.

They had exchanged numbers so that they could supposedly discuss their love for mango/lime juice and from then on they had started to date and so far, things were good.

* * * *

He leaned over and caressed her hair and kissed her forehead.

"I'll tell you everything," he said. And he kept to his word telling her the entire story as best as he could remember.

She looked at him, her eyes wide with terror. Perhaps it wasn't such a wise idea that he had told her after all. Then her face relaxed and she reached over and touched his arm.

"It was just a dream, baby," she said in a soothing tone.

He nodded, although in his heart he did not feel it to be true. It was just too real. She kissed him on the cheek as a measure of comfort and he let her.

"I know how to make it all better," she whispered in his ear.

He felt himself smile.

"Show me."

She kissed the nape of his neck and then his chest. Her tongue traveled the length of his torso and he groaned involuntarily with pleasure. She got out a bottle of vanilla scented oil from the nightstand next to her, poured a few drops onto her palm and rubbed them together. She straddled his legs and placed her palms of his chest and began to massage in slow, deep circles around his nipples. She bent over, still continuing the action, and placed her mouth over his. She began to massage his tongue with her own. She kissed him like a hungry animal that had not eaten in days.

"Ouch," he said.

She drew back.

"What is it? She asked.

"You bit my lip."

Sure enough his lip was bleeding.

"Sorry, must have gotten a little over excited," she said, a wild look in her eye.

"Fine by me," he said as he drew her back in.

"But your lip?" she asked between kisses.

"Can wait," he finished for her as he flipped her over so that she was now under him. His hand

strayed, slipping her off her nightgown. He kissed her neck, his kisses straying further down afterwards.

"Mmm," she said as she reached down to undo his trousers.

He kissed her ear and moved back to work on her lips once again

"I love you," she whispered in a tiny voice.

Harry froze for a moment.

"I think you're pretty special too," he replied.

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Draco had come home and flopped on his bed. The week was finally over and he was dead tired. The past week had taken quite a toll on him. The last week of school usually did. It seemed to be a time when kids ran wild and got on every teachers nerves. His mind wandered back to when he was that age.

* * * *

Back then they had to worry about the Dark Lord regaining power, and he, of his parents hating him. And hate him, they did. But had he the choice of going back and changing things, he would not. It was a small price to pay for the Dark Lord's demise. Besides they had never really loved him anyway. Lucius was convinced that Draco was Slytherin's heir, but upon realising that it was not meant to be, he had cast Draco aside like an old shoe, telling him that he was the most useless thing around. Draco had finally realized that the only thing he was to his father was a trophy. And now he was a trophy with no use. He always knew deep down that being the way he was was wrong, but what else could he have done. It was his parents' influence that caused him to turn out way he was, after all it was the way he was brought up, the way he was accustomed. How else was he supposed to act when this was the only way of life he knew? Lucius' revelation had been an eye opener for Draco. It was then he began to realise right from wrong, good from bad, which ultimately led him to team up with Harry.

* * * *

He lay on his back, a pillow under his head and his hand between the pillow and his head. Ginny was out with Hermione for the night, so he was left all alone, just him and his thoughts. He checked through the T.V. guide for anything interesting but tossed it aside again when he realized that he had seen everything that was worth watching, twice.

His mind wandered back to Hogwarts. Today a new teacher had been hired, April Pierre. She was apt to take over Potions, a spot that was left open by Severus Snape after the Ministry of Magic had offered him a job as a Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor. It was sad to see the old windbag go after so many years of knowing him Draco, had admitted, but no one seemed more torn up to see him leave than Minerva McGonagall. Draco had suspected that under all the rivalry between the two, there had been something between them. They had both always respected each other even though they had their differences in opinion. When he mentioned it to Ginny though, she had told him he was crazy. Neither Snape nor McGonagall had ever been ones to show emotions, so it wasn't any surprise that no one shared his view. At the going away party they had thrown for Snape earlier in the day however, he had seen the looks on both their faces; the forlorn look on McGongall's face and look of concern on Snape's face whenever he looked at her. In addition to that, midway into the party they had both mysteriously disappeared, which only served to further endorse his suspicions.

The new D.A.D.A teacher, thankfully, Draco had thought looked nothing like the old one. She was much easier on the eyes than old Snape was. She was a voluptuous blond with cool green eyes. The same eyes that bore mystery as Draco looked into them when he introduced himself to her. Usually he prided himself on being able to tell what a person was like just by looking into their eyes, as he believed that the eyes were windows to a person's soul. On many occasions, people had often shrunk from his stare. Ginny had once told him it was because he had a very powerful stare, but then she kissed him and proceeded to talk to him in baby talk so he was not too sure that he believed her. April had not withered under his gaze, instead she did quite the opposite; she remained cool and aloof. When he shook her hand he noticed that her grip was firm like a man's. He had wondered why Dumbledore did not wait until school reopened then have her come in as was customary with all new teachers, but then he thought that maybe the old prune had wanted to have an affair to make up for his otherwise boring life, so if he had to do it, why not get it right with a voluptuous young thing. Way to go Dumbledore! Much to his chagrin however, Dumbledore seemed to have read his mind, and had cast him a disdainful look before proceeding to tell them the reason for admitting April earlier than the norm.

"As you all may have noticed, Ms. Pierre has started with us a bit early," Dumbledore had begun.

"I have asked her if she would have minded joining our summer program, a new project, which I decide to start and which I will explain to you in a little while, and she agreed. During this past year, I have noticed that some students have been falling back on their work. Thus, I decided to put measures in place for students who are not as good as others when it comes to picking up work. I have designed summer classes and outlined several areas that need to be taught or rather re-taught to students. All that is needed to complete my plan of action are volunteers."

He had said the dreaded word; volunteers. No one could resist a request from Dumbledore and all hands shot up. All except for Draco who bore a ‘do I have to?' look on his face.

"No Mr. Malfoy, you don't have to." Dumbledore had told him.

Guilt however had set in over being the only one who had not signed up and so, like a schmuck, he did.

"Damn it having a conscience," he had cursed under his breath.

"Don't worry you'll get a tingly feeling all over once you do it," came April's voice from behind him as he had finished signing his name.

"Maybe it will be an interesting summer after all," he smiled.

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"Mmmm, Ronald Weasley you naughty, naughty boy!" Lavender squealed. Ron had been kissing her neck and he had just found her erogenous zone.

"Mmmm yes right there! Uh, oh, oh ooooooh!"

*Pop, pop*

"Ooooh," came a second voice.

"Yes little Ronnikins kiss me, oh kiss me," came a third.

"What," Ron enquired, "are you two doing here and have you ever heard of a thing called knocking?"

"Oh and miss all the fun?" asked George as he proceeded to make loud smooching noises. Fred laughed and joined in the hullabaloo.

"What do you want?" Ron asked irritated.

Lavender giggled. "Oh Ron, stop being such a sour sop."

"Can't we pay our favourite little brother a visit without being scrutinized?" Fred asked innocently.

"I am your only little brother and you two are always up to something," Ron said hotly.

"How's Angelina, Fred?" Lavender asked, ignoring Ron.

"Oh, she is fine, her delivery date is in two weeks."

"Oh, that's so nice," Lavender, cooed. "Have you found out what it is yet?"

"Nope, we want to be surprised," then he added. "I hope it's a girl."

"And how about you, George, how is Lee doing?"

"He's not too bad, just recovering from a bout with the flu."

"Are you two ever going to tie the knot?" Lavender questioned him, as she flashed her own ring.

George grabbed for her hand. "Whew!" he let out a whistle. "What a rock! Ron you sly dog, you didn't tell us you were engaged. Unless of course, it's not you that she's engaged to and you two are carrying on a mad, passionate affair behind her fiancé's back."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Are you two staying for dinner?" he asked flatly.

"Oh yes," Lavender added. "I was just about to get it started."

"And let me guess, Ron was the main course right?" Fred kidded.

Ron blushed a deep crimson and Lavender giggled.

"Would you two shut up!" Ron demanded, still a little pink around the ears. "And here, you can help peel the potatoes."

"Oh, you're worse than mom," they groaned in unison.

After dinner, they all settled into the living room with large steaming cups of coffee. Fred had a Double Espresso, George, an Irish coffee and Lavender and Ron Café Lattes.

"So," Ron asked for the third time that night. "What did you two say you came here for again?"

"Well to be honest," George began.

"Ha! I knew it!" Ron exclaimed in triumph. "I knew you had something up your sleeves!" One

look at Lavender though, and he was forced to sit down and shut up again.

"As I was saying before my rude little brother interrupted me, we have a new invention that we were hoping to try out in you guys."

"Uh unh, no you don't! You guys own a chain of joke shops. By now you think you ought to have hired other people to be your guinea pigs."

"Oh, but it is so much more fun when we try it out on you." Fred replied.

"Sorry, the answer is no!"

"I'll try it!" came Lavender's voice. "What's it called?"

"Featherweights," Fred replied eagerly, happy that someone had agreed to test it.

Lavender took a bite and immediately she lifted off the ground.

"This is fun, Ron. Take a bite won't you, for me?!" Lavender batted her eyelashes at him.

"Ron rolled his eyes. "Okay, fine," he gave in. He took a huge bite and immediately hit the ceiling.

"Ron you git," Fred scolded. "You're only supposed to take small bites."

"Well that information is quite useless now isn't it!"

"Hang on a second, George has some Rock cakes in his pockets."

"Like I have a choice," Ron muttered.

"No George does not," George replied. "I thought you took it."

"No, I didn't, I told you to take it!"

"Shut up, the both of you!" Ron demanded, a murderous glare in his eyes. "I don't care who forgot it. Just get me the hell down from here now!"

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Draco was just drifting off to dreamland, when he heard someone pounding on his front door. He cursed under his breath and yelled for them to go away. Then he closed his eyes and began drifting off again.

Again came the loud pounding, this time followed by a voice. "Draco, let me in. I have something that I need to tell you."

"Potter," Draco muttered under his breath as he made his way to the door.

"Look Potter," Draco said as he opened the door "as flattered as I am, daft spectacled gits are really not my type."

"What the hell are you blabbering about, Malfoy?"

"Well, you show up at my apartment in the middle of the night wearing nothing but a pair of boxers with tiny hearts on them, what am I supposed to think?"

"Please, don't flatter yourself. Even if I was into men, what makes you that you would be my type?"

"You know Potter, you do have a point there. I quite agree, dashingly handsome and charming does not seem to suit you at all does it? Perhaps someone more like your then? An ugly git with no personality?"

"Oh stuff it, Malfoy! Are you going to let me in? It's freezing out here."

"No, I thought I'd just stand here and watch you turn into a Popsicle."

"Funny, Malfoy," Harry said as he pushed his way past him.

"So to what do I owe the pain…uh pleasure?"

"Well," Harry began, beginning to feel a little stupid. "I've been having these dreams."

"If they involved me and whipped cream, I don't want to hear it!" Draco said indignantly.

Harry glared at him. "As I was saying, I have been having these dreams where…" and Harry filled him in on the entire story. "I know that you're going to say that they are just dreams, but they felt so real. The heat, the screams, they all seemed so real. It was like being outside the gates of hell, knowing that it's just a matter of time before they let you in. Do you think it could mean that he is coming back?"

Draco drew in a breath. "Obviously this dream has got you scared for you to come to me of all people."

"Well, you are the one who helped me destroy him in the first place."

"Oh yes, how can I forget that? I was the hero of the day. Mmmm and so many girls…"

"Malfoy!"

"Oh yes, yes back to you. I think that your dreams are a projection."

‘A projection?"

"Yes a projection. You have a fear that the Dark Lord is not really dead and that he will arise again. This fear manifests itself in your dreams, which is perfectly normal. And given the fact that Voldemort has ‘risen' from the dead so many times before, it is also perfectly natural that you have this fear. I can assure you though that he was only human and we killed him as dead as dead can be.

"Do you really believe that Draco?" Harry asked softly.

"I have to. It's the only way I can keep my sanity."

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