Dream

~*~

"Hermione?"

"Hmm?" she answered hazily, chewing on her quill, eyes still focused on her Potions S-paper assignment that she was given that afternoon.

Hermione's S-paper class had finally completed the syllabus on Transfiguring Potions the week before, having successfully brewed the Transfiguring Potion in September, and examined the impact of the potion on wizarding history, as well as the ethics of its use in the subsequent weeks. Beginning that afternoon, Professor Snape had begun, what was for her, a most fascinating new study: 'The Healing Arts - Potion in Mediwizardry Across Cultures'. The Professor had his five students each analyse a different wizarding culture's use of potions in the Healing Arts for pain-relief, fever-reduction, and nausea. They were to compare the active magical ingredients used in remedies for these three basic symptoms to the ingredients used for the common headache, fever and nausea potion they had made in their 5^th Year. Following that, each student would have to brew a Mediwizardry potion of their choice using the magical methods of the culture they examined. Hermione had already decided to brew the Sight-Cure potion created by that famous Chinese wizard Hua Tuo. The recipe looked simple enough, but the hardest part of preparing that potion was that the brewer needed to remain in front of the clay pot watching the brewing for exactly 24 hours, adding each ingredient at precisely 15 minutes intervals. The brewing would be extremely exhausting, but Hermione felt that it would be worth doing if she could offer it to Harry to cure his myopia.

"Hey, Hermione," Parvati's lilting voice broke through her blurriness.

"Huh?" Hermione shook her head to clear it of scorpions, centipedes, cicada--'Are these ingredients for real?' she vaguely wondered--swallow's nest and other Chinese potions ingredients.

"Hermione," Lavender repeated impatiently, and Hermione finally turned her blinking brown eyes on the willowy blonde sitting on the chair next to hers in the girls' dormitory.

"Woman, I swear if a herd of hippogriffs stampede through here, you'll still be reading that book!" exclaimed Parvati, pointing at the offending tome empathically.

"What do you want now?" sighed Hermione in exasperation at the interruption as she fiddled with her quill. It was better to get to the point with her roommates if she ever wanted to return to her studies within this century.

"Well," smiled Lavender, "Some of the 7^th Year girls from the other houses are organising a sleep over tonight--"

"--to celebrate Susan's birthday," explained Parvati.

"And since it's an open invitation to the 7^th Year girls--"

"--we thought you might like to join us."

The pair looked intently at Hermione to gauge her response. Although Hermione were not as close to the two girls before her as they were to each other, the three of them had roomed together the past 6 years, and their relationship showed it.

"But I still have a ton of work to do!" wailed the brunette, pointing her quill at the almost completed essay, which was not due until the end of October.

"Riiiight," drawled Parvati, folding her arms across her chest and nodding.

"Sure," Lavender rolled her eyes. "That essay you're working on - when is it due again?" she asked with a tilt of her head.

"Woman, all work and no play makes Jill a dull girl," smirked Parvati, "and Hermione, it's not like we're asking you to join our Hogwarts' Heartthrobs committee. Although," she glanced at Lavender, sharing a secret smile, "if you ask me, you should, seeing how you've got all our top three Heartthrobs tied around your little finger."

Hermione snorted. "You can't be serious, Parvati!" she contorted her face in disbelief, "Whatever gave you that idea?"

Lavender spoke up, "Oh, you know - Harry, our number one Heartthrob and Ron, who's at number three, they're your best friends, right? Although I must say that Harry seems to have a thing for raven-haired witches. I thought he'll never get over Cho, but since she graduated--" she shrugged, "But we're talking about you. Or more particularly, you and our Hogwarts number two man, the cool Prince Charming himself. Is there something going on between the two of you we should know?"

Hermione frowned and shook her head, "I have no idea what on earth you are a talking about Lav. What's this about Harry and a black-haired witch? And who on earth is this 'Prince Charming' you're talking about?"

Parvati and Lavender shared an incredulous look between them.

"Hermione Granger!" Parvati addressed the seated bookworm, "that's it. You're coming with us tonight even if we have to drag you with us!"

"That's right, girl," agreed Lavender, "you've got a lot of catching up to do." She rolled her eyes exaggeratedly and huffed, "Not knowing who Prince Charming is, indeed!"

Hermione surveyed her notes scattered on the study table.

'Perhaps it might be a good idea to take a break from all the work I've been doing on the map and homework. Besides, it's only for tonight, and it is Susan's birthday,' she pursed her lips. 'And it would be good to catch up with the latest school news - I've seen so little of Harry as it is that it would be nice to hear about that witch he apparently fancies,' she mused, 'Although I'm sure most of them would want to know what Ron has been up to lately.'

Hermione looked up at the two determined faces before her. "All right," she said, as she rolled her eyes and threw the quill down on the table, "I surrender! So, what's the plan for tonight?"

~*~

Hermione cracked open a blurry eye and felt a little panicky. She had a strange feeling that she wasn't on her own bed in her dorm. It was almost pitch black and her senses were alert to the strange room and bed she found herself in. Where was she?

'Oh that's right--' she sighed in relief, closing her eye and leaning back into her pillow, '--Susan's sleepover.'

After dinner, Lavender, Parvati and Hermione had put on their best nightclothes under their robes, and the trio had traipsed across the castle to the Head Girl's quarters, where Blaise's bedroom could magically accommodate half the 7^th Year girls easily. Also, having the sleepover at the Head Girl's quarters made perfect sense since the room was a neutral sleeping quarters, unlike the dormitories of the four Houses. Girls from opposing Houses were not allowed into the common rooms which led to the dorms.

Moreover, the Bones and the Zabinis were close family friends, so Susan and Blaise practically grew up together, and Blaise herself volunteered to host the sleepover at her quarters. Besides, it was a good opportunity to foster inter-House relationship, and the Slytherin Head Girl was always quick to initiate more opportunities of the kind.

The evening was passed in a riotous cackling as the girls discussed boys, fashion, boys, school gossips, boys, Hogwarts staff, and boys. Amidst anecdotes of the girls' various encounters with either their suave or bumbling male peers, the girls helped themselves to the snacks and drinks brought in by House Elves, luxuriating on the magically elongated bed which was large enough to accommodate the twelve of them.

Hermione had felt a little out of place at first, when the conversations turned to what she felt were frivolous topics in the light of the war, but she allowed the other girls to rant and chatter, whilst she listened to the ebb and flow of where the conversations led. She contributed as much as she could when the other girls started pumping her for information about Ron - she had expected that, after all. Her tall, redheaded best friend had gained quite a following with his friendly and casual manner and easy grin. However, to her great amusement, the girls started asking her about Draco as well. Apparently, her rendezvous with Draco on Monday evening was seen by a Ravenclaw 5^th Year who had passed the Charms classroom on her way to Professor Flitwick's office, just when she entered the room with Draco. She was spotted again the previous evening by a 6^th Year Slytherin prefect on patrol duty, who saw Hermione and Draco coming out of that classroom together rather close to curfew.

Although Hermione denied that there was anything going on between Draco and herself, she did not protest too vehemently. She knew that she would have to be in Draco's company even more in future if her secret project with him were to progress, and then even more eyes would be directed upon the two of them if the girls thought that she was hiding something as delicious as a secret rendezvous with the Slytherin Prince. 'Let the girls think what they want,' she'd thought, 'if it means that they'll leave us in peace to work on the Map.'

The twelve had talked late into the night, but since the next day was a Saturday; they had paid no heed to the time. Hermione had fallen asleep on the outer right side of the bed, facing the fireplace, and she had awoken partially due to someone's hands poking her back.

She scooted a bit nearer the edge of the bed towards the glowing embers of the fireplace, but instead of distancing herself from the other person, she felt a large hand pulling her snugly into the warmth of a large body at her back.

"Where do you think you're going, hmm?" a low sleepy growl tickled her across her left ear, sending her senses reeling in a hundred different directions.

~*~

Severus Snape was not a happy man.

Not that he would normally walk around the castle with any semblance to any joviality of any kind, but the past week brought the already mercurial mood of the Potions Professor to a new low.

If asked for a reason for the cause for this additional layer of irascible fractiousness, Severus would be hard pressed to identify exactly what it was that caused this behaviour.

He could lay the blame on the simple matter of teaching dunderheads who had no interest in the subtle science and exact art of potion-making, who would hardly believe that the elemental magic wrought when brewing potions is a superior kin to that of foolish wand-waving. Those pathetic dunderheads had no understanding of the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses; neither would they appreciate the raw power of bottling fame, brewing glory - even stoppering death!

No, instead they come to class without preparation of any kind - choosing to bicker and fight with their opposing housemates; playing dangerous pranks by slipping potentially dangerous ingredients into each other's cauldrons, hoping to foul up the other's potions. He had enough of playing mediator, nursemaid, watchman and unappreciated instructor! And it didn't help matters one whit that the siege-mentality at the castle was playing havoc with the children's fears and nerves, and they took it out in petty altercations, the likes of which made Potter and Malfoy's past bickering seemed like a simple disagreement.

He could blame his unusually black mood on the usual stress that a double agent faced, playing a deadly game of lies. After all, he had to face the uncertain reaction of Voldemort tomorrow night, when he reported on the progress of the night-vision potion he was assigned to enhance. In truth, it was a simple matter to tweak the potion to work more effectively. However, the crux was to create two potions that started off with the same enhanced night-vision, but to allow one of them to wear off at a faster rate than the other. It was the right strategy, after all, to allow advantage to the Order with the potion that lasted longer than the one he would offer to Voldemort.

He could even blame his dismal mood on the simple physiological problem of not having enough sleep. At least that would explain the darker than usual eye bags under his eyes, and the added tinge of sallow in his skin from overdosing on Stay Awake potions. His already disrupted sleep from all his nightmares had a new aspect - a fear and longing for a particular Dream, a particular release from the usual burdening, incriminating, horrifying nightmare that left him trembling in fear and hatred at himself when he awoke. A fear? Yes - he would sleep in hope that he might meet his dream wraith, but each night, instead of waking up to the dream-Hermione, he would find himself in the company of a screaming banshee, who taunt him, and scream the screams of the children at the muggle orphanage, with her hair streaking behind her. The dreamscape would then tilt and take the form of Voldemort's lair where he would face endless crucio from the masked Death Eaters who had discovered his traitorous stance in the war.

He supposed he could have employed the use of the dreamless sleep potion, but he did not want to become dependent on the potion unless he really had to - it went against the control he needed over himself even in something as mundane and as involuntary as dreaming. But if he were honest with himself, his over-reliance on the Stay Awake was just as bad as being dependent on the dreamless sleep.

'Pure hypocrisy!' he thought in chagrin. Now, however, it seemed likely that he now had to rely on the potion to get a good night's rest, otherwise he might just make too great a mistake in his role in the war.

The truth then. Well, the truth was that he wanted to meet his Queen Midas once again - if even only in a fantasy. He had felt his core revived, refreshed, revitalised, with that compassion shown to him a week ago. It had felt so good to be held voluntarily - he had never... he had never been held so lovingly by anyone, except perhaps for that one night in Dumbledore's office when he had confessed it all - the screams, the loneliness, the pain, the bleakness; tears messily pouring out of his eyes, sobbing, really, in that overstuffed chair in front of the Headmaster's desk. Dumbledore's gentle, comforting hands soothing his back as if he were a lost son who found his way home, was the first and last time he had experienced a loving touch.

Severus shook his head to clear it from his dark musings. It would not do to get all maudlin again. Too much was at stake. Draco had just left his quarters, and the youth's worries for him was evident, although the boy had made the excuse of Slytherin housekeeping matters of visiting him unannounced.

'Draco,' he sighed. 'And if Draco was worried about me...'

Draco was one of the few graces he had in his life. At Draco's Naming Ceremony, where Severus was named godfather, he had felt a tinge of borrowed pride. Even though he knew that his position as godfather was a strategic alliance on Lucius' part, he had looked down on that sleeping month-old babe he carried in his arms, and had promised himself that he would do all in his power to keep the boy from the dark - even if he had to defy the child's parents. Thus from the instant his godson stepped into Hogwarts, away from the influence of his father, Severus had looked out for the boy as if he were his own.

It was ironic, he thought, that such an innocent baby boy could be the son of darkness, yet be the child of 'light'. For was not 'Lucius' a derivative of the word light?

Getting up from his winged-back chair in front of the fireplace, Severus prepared for bed. He walked into his potions cabinet and took out a vial of the orange-tinged dreamless sleep from the shelf holding a fortnight's supply of the potion. This was a new batch he brewed on Monday evening for his own personal use. Hefting the vial in his hand, he turned towards his bedroom to change into his sleepwear.

And that was another thing affecting his moods of late. Ever since Sunday's dinner with the boy, where he began suspecting Draco's attraction for Miss Granger, he had been on a lookout for the inevitable interactions between the two students. He had observed them closely and their interaction during Monday's potion class was unremarkable, but the two of them do share many classes together. During Wednesday's class, however, Draco seemed more distracted - and if he were not intent on observing his godson's behaviour around Miss Granger, he would have missed it altogether. Draco's distraction carried over to even the S-level class that afternoon; but he could not be sure if the distraction was caused by Miss Granger or Draco's worries about himself.

On the other hand, if the school grapevine were to be believed, some understanding might have occurred between Draco and Miss Granger on Monday night. Granted, tapping into the schoolgirls' loud gossiping of "Prince Charming" (he snorted derisively at the uncreative pun on the boy's talent in Charms) was low level spying, he knew that often there was no smoke without fire, and the gossiping grapevine usually carried more truth than fiction.

Severus pursed his lips in thought and heaved another sigh. Stretching out on the large, cold bed, Severus stared up at the heavy, dark velvet canopy.

'If Draco only knew about...' he couldn't finish his thought. It was too personal, and too pathetic.

Cradling his head in the crook of his arm, Severus turned towards the bedside table holding the dreamless sleep potion. He pondered what had occurred with Miss Granger to cause Draco's distraction - he did not behave as if his meeting with Miss Granger was successful though. Intriguing.

Perhaps there was another reason for his distraction. Flitwick's rather off-handed comment at the Head Table during dinner last evening that Draco had approached him for extra Charms sessions might be the direction to take. Coupled with his worries about him... possible. This would be a possible explanation for his distraction.

But if Draco's distractions were due to Miss Granger's lack of interest--

Letting out a frustrated growl, he picked up the potion, brought it to his lips and took a long draught. He rested his head on the pillow and waited for sleep to come.

~*~

TBC.

A/N:

If you're interest in herb sources in Traditional Chinese Medicine (yes, scorpions are a herb source *grins*), this site is one of the best English sites around (leave no spaces inbetween):

http: //www. euyansang. com.sg/ sg/content/en_US/c_med_herbs/ herbs_types/ general_herbs_index. php

There's even a page with recipes for more mundane herbal ingredients.

Hua Tuo was a real person in China's Han dynasty. He was such a good Healer, many believed that he was dubbed "miracle working doctor" or shen yi. In fact he was described as "still appeared in the prime of his life when he was almost 100". He was put to death at 97 years old by Cao Cao, the ruler of the state of Wei, when he had a disagreement with him. More about him here: