One of A Kind

Chapter 11: Worries And Dreams

Harry, stop that. Ginny cast him a glare.

He raised his eyebrows, his face a mask of perfect innocence. Stop what?

She rolled her eyes and looked back down at her open Herbology text book.

Harry James Potter, you know exactly what I am talking about. You’re making it hard to concentrate.

Aw, come on Gin. You don’t have to study right this second. We’re still on holiday.

Your point is?

You’ve been spending too much time with Hermione. You’re beginning to act just like her.

I am not!

Are too.

Am no- She scowled. This is mature. Harry, the answer is no. Not now.

He looked at her with pleading eyes.

She sighed and closed the book, rising to her feet. He grinned widely and followed her as she strode out of the common room.

Just outside the portrait hole, a hand grabbed him by his shirt. He was pulled into a dark corner. All he saw was a flash of fiery hair before a pair of soft lips met his. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her tightly against him. Her hands wove into his mess of black hair as the kiss deepened. He felt as though every nerve in his body was on fire. The effect she had on him never ceased to amaze him.

After a few moments, they broke apart. She smiled at him, her ash brown eyes dancing.

“Isn’t this better than studying?” he teased.

“Much better,” she replied, and moved to kiss him again. Neither of them noticed the cold eyes peering at them from the shadows.

~*~

“Where is the girl?” a cold voice demanded.

A tall, cloaked figure stepped forward and knelt before the first speaker. “My Lord, she is highly protected. It is impossible to reach her. We cannot even find her.”

Blood red eyes narrowed. “Nothing is impossible. Perhaps you are not loyal to the cause.”

“N-no, My Lord. I am entirely loyal to you. Please, let me prove my loyalty. I will do anything you ask.”

The ghostly face twisted into a cruel smile. “Very well, then.” he pointed his wand at the man before him. “Imperio,” he muttered, almost lazily.

The man drew his own wand at pointed it at himself. “Avada Kedavra!” A flash of green light, and he fell to the floor.

            Harry awoke with a start, drenched in cold sweat. His breathing was ragged. The room was deathly quiet. He lifted his head and looked around. He felt heat rise to his face as he realized he was in Transfiguration class, and McGonagall’s eyes were trained on him. As well as the rest of the class.

“Mr Potter, thank you for joining us at last,” the Professor said. She cast him a disapproving look.

“I’m sorry, Professor,” he said. He sighed and buried his head in his hands, the ghastly images from his nightmare floating through his mind.

~*~

“Harry, you really should go to Dumbledore about this, you know,” Hermione said firmly.

Ginny ran her hand along his arm. “She’s right, Harry.”

Ron nodded his agreement.

“Look, it was nothing. I really shouldn’t bother Dumbledore with it,” he said.

“Well, if you don’t want to go to Dumbledore, why not just owl Sirius?” Ginny suggested. Harry had told her about Sirius that past summer.

He shook his head. “I can’t. Only Lupin and Dumbledore know where he is.”

Hermione narrowed her eyes. “Well, that makes no difference anyway. You know what he would tell you, Harry.”

“Maybe. But it doesn’t matter. He’s not here,” he snapped.

Ron glared at him. “Harry, you can’t just ignore it! What if the ‘her’ he was talking about is–"

Harry cut him off. He knew what Ron was thinking. It was the same fear that was plaguing him. “And what if it is nothing? There is no rule that says all my dreams are visions.”

“But --” Hermione began.

“But nothing. I’m not bothering him with something this small, and you aren’t either.”

He began to walk away. Ginny gave Ron and Hermione apologetic looks over her shoulder and then followed him.

Ron sank onto the ground, fear written clearly on his face. Hermione sat beside him, her hand resting on his. He whispered one sentence, barely audible even to her.

“What if it’s Ginny?”

~*~

He wrapped his arms tightly around her. She sighed softly and shifted so that her head rested on his chest. He wondered if she could hear his heart beating. He looked down at her. Her scarlet hair surrounded her face. Her eyes were closed, black lashes resting against her pale cheek. Her lips were parted, and he could feel her breathing. He placed a gentle kiss on her forehead.

“Don’t worry, Gin,” he whispered into her hair. "I’m going to protect you, even if it kills me."