Somnium Insidiae

Somnium Insidiae

#2

He gave her just one look. She was so nervous, so worried, she didn't know what to tell him... but when his bright green eyes focused on her face, she couldn't help but feel moved. He was in front of her, he who carried the fate of the world on his shoulders, looking at her with such an expression, like a little kid lost, searching for his mother. Overcome, she threw her arms around his neck...

Then she felt the sunlight hitting her closed eyelids.

She instinctively turned to her other side, trying to avoid the annoying pack of photons that threatened to wake her from her comfortable dream. Yet, she couldn't avoid the hand that yanked her bed sheets from over her.

"Young lady, if you don't wake up right now, you're going to be late for school."

Hermione opened her eyes reluctantly, and looked at her father, who was standing at the foot of her bed, giving her a smile.

"Can't I sleep just five minutes more? Not even today?"

Mr. Granger shook his head decidedly. "It's already fifteen minutes past your normal waking up hour. And you want to sleep MORE?"

"Ok, ok, I'm up..." she finally gave up.

While she stood up, her father continued talking. "You wouldn't be so sleepy if you hadn't been out so late last night with THE NEIGHBOR... That boy is definitely corrupting you, Hermione."

She rolled her eyes, being used to those comments. It wasn't that her father thought "the neighbor," as he called him, was a bad boy, but he was a father, after all. "He likes you too, Dad..." she retorted, while her father opened his arms to give her a hug.

The man affectionately kissed his daughter on the forehead. "Happy birthday, little one."

"Thanks, Daddy," she replied with a smile. And, getting out of the hug, she looked for her personal necessities, and took her towel and her things to go and take a shower.

She barely had time to pick up her bag from her room, and then she had to run down the stairs to get some breakfast. It was too late, and she couldn't lose anymore time.

She met her mother in the kitchen, as she made her eggs and toast for breakfast. The woman greeted her with a shiny smile. "How did the birthday girl wake up?"

Hermione smiled back and let her book bag fall to the floor (with a big "THUD!", it was so heavy). "Hungry, Mum." She almost didn't let her mother serve her eggs on a plate; she quickly put them inside the bread and started to eat them like a sandwich.

"Hermione Granger, manners!" her mother exclaimed when she saw her.

Hermione answered nothing, instead taking the juice glass her mother had left on the table in her hands to drink it down in one big gulp. "Sorry, Mommy, but I'm running late! I can't ruin my punctuality record!" And picking her book bag up from the floor (with some effort), she kissed her mother on the cheek and ran out to the main door.

She ran past her father, who was walking down the stairs, on her way out. "Honey, want me to give you a ride?" he offered. But Hermione, as she was rushing, simply shook her head.

"Not necessary, Dad. I'm going with Dylan!"

Closing the door behind her, she didn't see her father roll his eyes, or her mother smile amusedly.

She looked carefully to both sides of the street, in case a car was coming. When she was sure it wasn't, she crossed, backpack slung over her shoulder, as quick as she could without tripping. She got to the house that was in front of hers, a very small but cozy two-story house, and rang the doorbell.

A couple of seconds later, a young man opened the door. He was tall, thin, kind of lanky and blond. Fair-skinned, but not pale, just rosy. He had big blue eyes, with a cloud of freckles over his nose that brought out the brilliant ocean color. The boy, seeing her at the door, smiled brilliantly and gazed at her warmly. "Hey," he said, leaning closer to give her a little kiss. Hermione could've sworn he'd blushed. He didn't let her reply, he just went on talking. "Just give me a minute, I gotta wake my Grandmother up and I'll be back with you, ok?" And with that said, he ran back into the house. She could hear the sound of his footsteps as he went up the stairs.

Hermione leaned against the doorway while she waited. She wondered how he could be so active at that time in the morning, when they'd both gone to bed just a couple of hours ago. Dylan was having trouble with chemistry (well, that was usually the case... it was his worst subject), and Hermione volunteered to help him with the last topic, so he could understand it a little better. The only problem was that midnight came before they were done. Mr. Granger hadn't been very happy, but what could Hermione do? Dylan swore up and down that he could only understand when Hermione explained it to him, and well... she couldn't say no.

Dylan was just such a wonderful person that it was hard to deny him of anything. Mostly because he rarely asked for anything. He was the type of person that would keep his problems to himself, so as not to bother anyone else. In all the time she'd known him, Hermione didn't stop telling him that if he needed anything, he shouldn't doubt that he could come to her. She hadn't quite managed to convince him, but at least when it came to schoolwork he was getting better.

They'd met on their last year of elementary school. Their school's football soccer team had passed to the regional championship and it was the main topic of discussion in the neighborhood. Dylan, being the top scorer in the team, was the newest celebrity, of course. And Hermione, in part because she was so curious, and in part because of admiration, since the kid was immensely popular, tried to know all she could about him. One day she literally ran into him while coming out of her house (books flying everywhere) and at that moment she realized that Dylan was, in fact, the boy who had moved the past summer to Mrs. Milliken's, that is, her neighbor's, house. And, moved by her desire to know, as always, she started spouting off and babbling about how she wanted to know if it was true that his parents had died and that's why he'd moved there, as the people in school said.

Obviously the boy hadn't been all that happy. His expression, which up to that point had been almost amused, retracted immediately, and picking the last book off the floor, he continued on his way, leaving Hermione behind by a long distance. She felt a little hurt, and didn't realize her mistake until later. The next day she woke up early to step by Dylan's house before school, to apologize for the way she behaved and especially for being so tactless. He didn't hold any kind of grudge against her, and from that day on they were the best of friends.

It turned out that it was true that Dylan's parents had died in a car accident. His closest blood-relative, then, was his grandmother, and that's why he'd moved in with her. At the beginning everything was going fine, but after some time his grandmother got sick, and now he had to deal with the house and work to sustain them both. It was hard, but he tried not to complain.

During those first weeks of friendship he also confessed to her that he loved football soccer, and that he hoped to play professionally someday. But even so, not everything was happy for him, because most of the people in the neighborhood only liked him because he was good at sports, and not for what he really was. That was the reason why he had no real friends, even if he was so popular. Hermione could immediately relate, because she had felt how fake the other kids at school could be; in her case, a lot of them only talked to her when they needed help in a class, but in any other moment, they made fun of her for being a know-it-all and for having buck teeth. She knew it didn't feel good. Maybe it was their mutual misery that made them be so close... or maybe they were just made to be friends.

Four years later, she had gotten her teeth reduced and he had been made captain of his team. And the day he told her he felt for her just what she had felt for him the whole time was one of the happiest days of her life. So now they were together. For almost five months, officially.

The sound of jiggling keys got her out of her thoughts. It was Dylan, walking back down the stairs. "Done, we can go now," he told her, and she stepped aside to let him close the door. Shouldering his backpack (which was considerably less heavy than Hermione's), he took her hand and they started walking towards the school.

"Happy birthday," he told her, kissing her hand lightly. She thanked him. "I'm sorry I haven't gotten you a gift yet," he continued. She was going to reply telling him that it wasn't necessary that he got her anything, but he didn't let her. "But I was thinking that maybe we could go get some ice cream this afternoon, and then step by the bookstore so you can choose something you like."

Hermione looked suspiciously at him. How could he do that on a weekday? On the other hand, books were her weak spot... "Go out, today? Don't you have to work in the afternoon?"

"Oh, don't worry. My boss gave me the day off."

She bit her bottom lip, wondering if she should accept or not. Her dad wouldn't agree with her going out with Dylan so soon ("But you're together the whole day at school... don't you ever get tired of seeing each other's faces? You'd only see each other more if you lived together or something..."), but since the only thing they did together lately was study, it'd be okay. Or at least she hoped so. "Ah... ok. Anyway, there's a book about the use of microscopy in the study of protozoan evolution that I'm dying to read!" she finished, excited as only a good book could get her.

Dylan laughed, freckles jumping, and put an arm around his girlfriend's shoulders. Hermione also laughed. Sometimes she was too predictable, but she couldn't help it. And anyway, that afternoon was sure to be perfect.

Last class of the day: Chemistry. Likely to bring anyone's mood down, except Hermione Granger's. She was taking notes of everything the professor said, because according to the chronogram they had a text coming next week and she couldn't afford to miss any details. Dylan, on the other hand, was looking outside with a frown and a 'free me from this hell' expression.

Luckily for him, a couple of minutes later the bell that marked the end of classes rang. The students went out of the classroom quickly, before the professor could assign any homework. Dylan waited for Hermione to pick up her books so they could walk out together, but just as they were leaving, the professor stopped them.

"Miss Granger, may I have a word with you?"

Hermione told Dylan to wait for her at the door, and turned to talk to the professor. "Yes, sir?"

The man, quite an old man actually, gave her a smile. "I just wanted to tell you that the School Council approved your petition, and so you will be moved up to AP Analytic Chemistry class. Congratulations."

Hermione's eyes opened wide, as if she couldn't believe what the professor was telling her. "Really? Oh, I... thanks, Professor! Thank you so much! Wow, this is too much..."

Dylan, who was observing her from the door, couldn't help but laugh. Hermione was acting like a cartoon character... the kind that grabs a person's hand and wouldn't stop shaking it, babbling about the same stuff over and over at the same time. She was just too funny.

Dylan's laughter brought Hermione down from the clouds. Still with a big smile on her lips, she turned to him. "Did you hear that?"

"It seems like we have another reason to celebrate," he concluded, opening his arms. Hermione ran towards him, and they gave a few spins around in the hallway, adding a few excited expressions here and there. In the end, they stumbled on their own feet and Dylan ended up against the wall, with Hermione in front of him.

"It's unbelievable," Hermione muttered, leaning her head on Dylan's chest.

"Why? You're the smartest girl in the school. Don't tell me you actually thought your petition was going to be rejected?" he asked, playing with a brown lock of her hair. She smiled. "I bet this will look really good on your resume. You'll be able to get into any college you want!"

She looked up. With all reason, Dylan should feel a little depressed because if she switched to AP classes, she wouldn't be able to help him with whatever problems he had with the subject. But even so, he was so wonderful that he hadn't even thought about that; on the other hand, he had been as happy as if it had been him. How could she not love someone like that?

"I love you, Dylan," she murmured, hugging him tightly.

"And I love you," he replied, gazing intensely at her and lowering his head to kiss her.

So wrapped were they in each other that they didn't even notice when the professor came out of the classroom, locking the door behind him. "Yes, everything's fantastic, miss Granger, but for some reason I don't think the Council would be too happy to find you two like this."

Both teenagers sprung apart as if someone had dropped a glassful of ice-cold water on them. Dylan was a little red, but Hermione had so much blood stuck in her cheeks, she looked like a ruby. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Mr. Jeevers, it won't happen again, I swear..."

"Don't make promises you won't keep, miss Granger," the professor shot back, something of a smirk on his face. "Simply try to be less obvious the next time."

The man walked out immediately. Hermione stood there, doubting if she should repeatedly hit her head against the wall or just stare fixedly to the floor, waiting for it to swallow her. "Oh my gaaaaawwwwd, Dylan, I just embarrassed myself in front of a professor! Oh, this is horrible..."

Dylan, who was feeling pretty uncomfortable himself, went for the simplest option. "Look, let's just forget about this, ok? Let's just go to the mall, and pretend nothing happened."

Hermione wasn't really convinced, her eyes were moist and she was desperately hoping that what happened wouldn't influence in anyway her new promotion to AP Chemistry class. But even so, she let herself be guided by Dylan to the exterior of the school.

It was close to 11 at night when Hermione entered her house, being careful to walk silently so she wouldn't wake her parents up. She walked up the stairs in her way to her room, but halfway through she noticed that her parents' room door was half open. She randomly wondered if her parents were still awake. But, knowing her father and his jealousy about Dylan, they probably were. Kind of amused, she decided to spy on them for a moment.

"Gerald."

"Hmmmm?"

"Sleep. Now."

"I'm going to wait a little more, Helena. I want to be sure that she gets home safe and sound."

"You're exaggerating. She's with Dylan, nothing's going to happen to her."

"That's what I'm worried about."

"Oh, listen to yourself! You're acting like you'd never been a teenager!"

"It's precisely because I was that I'm worried."

"Come on... you know that Dylan is an excellent kid, and that's why you don't like him."

"I know... it's just that..."

"Don't be such a crybaby. Look, just a while ago I thought I heard the door. Hermione must be home already. Why don't you go to sleep? You know your patients really worked you up today..."

"Ah... okay. You're right, I am very tired. Why don't you give me a back rub? I'm sure that'll make me feel better..."

Hermione knew that was the appropriate moment to go to her room (with parents like that, it was a miracle that she was still an only child...). She wasn't worried about her father's reaction anymore. She knew he felt a little jealous that she was spending most of her time with Dylan, but deep down the blond boy had known how to gain her father's trust. Feeling happy, she turned around in silence, going her way down the walkway, without noticing that her parents' door closed behind her.

Changing into her bedclothes, she laid on the bed, thinking about her day. Dylan had taken it upon himself to give her a birthday as she'd never had. It was one of the best she'd ever had, she could admit that freely. Sixteen perfect years. She was completely happy; she had everything. Academic excellency, luck, the love of her life, her family... she didn't wish for anything else.

Smiling, she closed her eyes. She was so happy that she was surely going to dream about Dylan.

But she didn't.

On the other hand, the face that appeared in her dreams was that of that mysterious boy with green eyes, lightly sliding from side to side in front of her. The wind blew on his black hair and messed it up, giving him a semi-ethereal appearance. It almost seemed like he was flying...