The Hardest Choice?

Harry awoke on a ship the next morning, sailing through stormy seas.

He yawned and opened a bleary eye. A blurred face was peering at him, framed with a mop of brown tangles. He blinked.

He wasn't on a ship at all. He was still sat in the armchair where Ron had left him, and Hermione was shaking him roughly.

He wondered fleetingly what he'd been dreaming about, but he couldn't remember. He only knew it hadn't involved Voldemort though, and for that he was thankful.

Hermione knelt back, sitting on her heels. "What are you doing down here?" she whispered. "I've heard Ron talks in his sleep but it can't be that bad!" She laughed lightly.

Harry stretched as much as the chair would allow. "Couldn't sleep," he mumbled.

Hermione handed him his glasses. "You were almost sat on them."

"Why are you whispering?" Harry asked, taking the glasses from her.

"Because it's still early, and also because of him..." She pointed to a nearby chair. Peeves the poltergeist was snoring soundly on it.

Harry blinked again. "I didn't know ghosts slept."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "He isn't sleeping, not really. He's drunk. Can't you smell it?"

Now that she mentioned it, he noticed the strong smell of...whisky? "Where would he get whisky?" Harry frowned.

"Filch, I bet. Which would explain why he's hiding in here." Hermione leaned in closer to Harry. "Don't know about you but I'd rather not disturb him. Peeves sober is bad enough. A drunken one? That's something I'd rather not experience."

Harry couldn't help but agree, although he grumbled to Hermione that she could have left him to sleep as well.

He expected a biting comment back from her, but instead she blushed. "I, er, just wanted some company."

Harry looked at her in surprise. Then he looked again, more closely.

Hermione's hair hadn't been combed, it was knotted much more than usual. Her face was extremely pale, with none of its rosy glow. And dark shadows underlined her dull eyes.

"You look awful," he whispered.

She pulled a face at him. "I couldn't sleep either," she admitted.

A knawing started in Harry's stomach. "Why not?" he asked tentatively.

Hermione shrugged.

Then, abruptly, she stood up. "Do you want to get some fresh air?"

Harry nodded slowly. "Let me just get changed first," he said.

"Ok, I'll wait for you in the corridor."

Harry changed quickly, not bothering to be quiet in the process. His heart was thumping.

Something was up with Hermione and he couldn't shake the feeling that it was related to his dream the previous night. It couldn't just be coincidence that she'd had a bad night too, could it?

He ran his hands through his unruly hair, managing to tame it a little, then slipped out.

The Fat Lady grumbled at being disturbed twice so early, but even she whispered, so as not to wake Peeves. Harry suppressed a grin at her pink hairnet, which matched her pink dressing gown. And her pink slippers. Not to mention her pink lipstick (just in case Nearly Headless Nick floated by), which had smudged a little.

He and Hermione made their way down through the school and out into the grounds. It promised to be a lovely day.

A light mist hung over the lake and pale rays of morning sunlight burst through the cotton wool clouds above.

They sat beneath a giant oak tree and rested their backs against the knobbly bark.

Hermione sighed.

Harry glanced sideways at her. It had sounded like a sigh of relief, instead of perhaps contentment.

He frowned. It was really starting to worry him. What if something had happened to her last night?

He considered asking her again why she'd had problems sleeping, but he knew she wouldn't tell him. Instead, he found himself ruminating over a dozen possibilities.

He didn't even realise when she spoke to him. "Sorry, I was miles away."

She smiled and he noticed how it didn't quite reach her eyes. "I said why couldn't you sleep last night?"

Harry stared at her. Should he tell her? Then he'd know if something had happened. But what if it was nothing, and she really did just have a bad night? He didn't want her to start worrying for nothing.

So he just smiled back and joked, "You really have no idea how loud Ron's sleep talking is."

Hermione giggled and leant her head on Harry's shoulder. She closed her eyes and they sat in silence, until the sounds of students moving around Hogwarts filtered down to them.

Harry thought at first she had fallen asleep but just as he was about to wake her, she shifted and sat up. "Guess we should make a move..."

Now Harry was convinced there was something wrong. Hermione, reluctant to start the school day?

Normally she was the first one up, first to finish breakfast, and first in the classroom.

Well, almost.

This really wasn't like her at all. He decided to speak to Ron about it.

He struggled to his feet and held a hand out to Hermione. She took it with a grin and he pulled her up.

Harry didn't get a chance to speak to Ron until lunch. They told Hermione they had a Divination assignment to finish, so she went down to the Great Hall alone.

Harry and Ron retreated to the Gryffindor common room. Luckily it was empty, although it still smelt a little of whisky.

As soon as the portrait closed behind them, Harry turned to Ron.

But Ron was quicker. "What's wrong with Hermione?" he asked.

Harry nodded grimly. "You noticed too?"

Ron ran a hand through his red hair. It had a habit of getting in his eyes, usually while trying to cast a spell causing it to hit the wrong target. Hermione had been on at him for a while to get it cut. "She barely paid any attention in Arithmancy," he said. "And in Potions I think even Snape was wondering what was up."

"She said she didn't sleep last night." Harry's face was sombre. "Ron, she looked bloody awful this morning."

"We should get her to see Madam Pomfrey."

Harry looked at Ron bemused. He'd thought his friend was thinking along the same lines he was. "No Ron, that's not what I meant. What if it's something to do with my dream last night?" He thought hard. "What if she opened up to it somehow and shared it?"

Ron looked doubtful. "Why would that happen?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe it's significant somehow. I'm starting to think you might be right about talking to Dumbledore. I don't want to risk anything happening to Hermione.

Ron glanced at his best friend knowingly but didn't comment. Instead he shook his head. "I think we might be over-reacting."

Harry stared at him. "But it was your suggestion!"

"I know. But let's face it. You are allowed to have normal dreams like the rest of us."

"How a dream about Voldemort could ever be called normal escapes me!" Harry scoffed.

"Yeah, but people tend to dream about the things they fear."

Harry glared at his friend. "I do not fear Voldemort," he said quietly. "You're the one that's too scared to speak his name."

Harry regretted that immediately.

The Weasley's were an old wizarding family and had every right to fear Voldemort. They'd had to live with the threat of him. Harry had grown up with muggles, and hadn't even known he was a wizard until he was 10.

"Sorry Ron," he apologised.

Ron shrugged. "No, you're right. I guess you do have less to fear than the rest of us. After all, you have survived five encounters with him already. Why should you be scared?" He couldn't keep the trace of bitterness from his voice.

Harry stared down at his feet. "Maybe that's why I should fear him..." he muttered.

There was a brief silence.

Ron was the first to break it. "Look, let's wait. If you have another dream, then we can speak to Dumbledore. Agreed?"

Harry thought it over for a minute and then nodded. "Agreed."

Ron frowned. "But maybe we should talk to Hermione about this. If she did share your dream then we'll know something strange is going on."

"Don't you think I already thought about that? But I don't want her to worry unnecessarily."

Ron pondered this. "Yeah, but if she is in danger, we should tell her."

Harry paced up and down. "Ok. Maybe you're right. But let's wait until tomorrow. One more night can't hurt, and we can see if I do have another dream tonight."

Ron nodded and looked at his watch. "Come on then, we might have time for some lunch after all."

However, during Charms that afternoon, something happened to change their plans.

Professor Flitwick had asked each of them to request a charm that they would like to learn. Nothing too complicated, just something that would benefit the classmate of their choice. It was supposed to be a little bit of fun before they began studying for their NEWTs in earnest.

Hermione chose a hair taming charm for Ron, while Parvati Patil decided that a memory charm was what Neville needed.

Dean Thomas asked if he could choose a teacher and promptly requested a charm for a bottle of re-filling shampoo for Snape.

When everyone had stopped laughing, Seamus Finnigan spoke up.

"I think I'll choose a sleeping charm," he announced. "For Harry Potter." He grinned, his eyes gleaming mischievously. "Or maybe he's more in need of a love charm." He turned to Harry. "Did you enjoy your dream?" Then he winked at Hermione. "Harry was shouting your name all night, you know."

Harry had turned as red as a tomato but he held his composure well. He ignored all the giggles and shot Seamus a warning look. Seamus immediately turned away, chuckling.

When Harry glanced at Hermione, she was staring at him. 'Bloody Finnigan!' he thought.

After the lesson, Harry pulled Hermione to one side. He was meaning to explain, but she simply said, "You saw it."

Harry frowned. "Saw what?"

For once Ron was a step ahead. "The dream?" he guessed.

Hermione nodded.

Harry's stomach sank. "Oh god, Hermione," he whispered.

There were tears in her eyes. He put his hand awkwardly on her shoulder to comfort her but she stepped away from his touch. "What exactly did you see? I looked for you, but I could only hear you."

Harry nodded. "Me too."

"So you didn't see...everything?" she asked quietly.

"What do you mean, everything?"

Hermione shook her head. It wasn't that she didn't want to say, more that she couldn't find the words. The tears began to fall silently.

Harry and Ron looked at each other helplessly.

Then she took a deep steadying breath and slowly lifted her shirt and jumper. Her eyes never left Harry's.

Harry was horrified. He looked like he was about to vomit. Ron stepped around him, totally shocked.

Criss-crossing the whole of Hermione's stomach were long red welts, and even worse, a couple of puckered scars, weeping thick yellow pus...