Beautiful Dreamer

Chapter 1

Bad News

Things had changed around Chrysoberyl Manor. Harry could feel it. It wasn't very obvious at first, but Harry was noticing it more and more. Hermione was moving slower and slower, each breath seemed to cause her pain.

Harry looked out the window of the library at the falling snow. It was four days until Christmas. Harry reached into his pocket and clasped his hands around the small velvet case. Enclosed in the case was the silver necklace he had purchased at Magical Artifacts of the Eighteenth Century. Harry slowly withdrew the tiny box out of his pocket and creaked open the lid.

"Harry?" a voice from the doorway made him jump. Harry looked up. Margaret was standing in her nightgown and fuzzy pink bunny slippers looking very tired. Harry looked at the clock. It was already ten fifty-seven.

"You should get to bed, dear," she yawned and waited as Harry crossed the room to climb the stairs next to her.

Harry observed Margaret as the two of them climbed the stairs to their rooms. Margaret was looking sleep-deprived and had developed two dark rings under her eyes, making her face look almost ghastly.

Harry and Margaret said their 'goodnights' Harry went silently into his bedroom and closed the door behind him with a quiet snap.

--_-_-_

Harry sat bolt upright in bed. His eyes squinted around to try to find the reason he had been jogged from his sleep. Memories of the last time this happened crept into his brain and he jumped from his bed. He ran out of his room, into the deserted hall, and into Hermione's room. Her bed was empty, just like the other time. Harry ran to the French doors only to find them locked from the inside.

"Where could she be?" he wondered aloud to himself. He groggily wandered out into the hallway and it was then that he noticed that the bathroom door was slightly ajar and light was pouring onto the carpet from inside.

Quietly, Harry crept over to the door and peered in through the crack. Inside were Margaret, Sirius, and Hermione.

Hermione's head was bent over the toilet and Margaret was holding back Hermione's long bushy hair as she had been throwing up. Sirius was sitting on the rim of the bathtub, gently rubbing Hermione's back.

"It's getting worse, Sirius. We're running out of time," came Margaret's whispered voice to Harry's ears. Sirius shifted uncomfortably. Hermione began making small choking noises and Harry winced as she began throwing up again. He watched as Sirius dampened a washcloth and handed it solemnly to Margaret, who pressed it gently against Hermione's forehead. Hermione was crying now.

"It hurts," she gasped. Margaret donned a pained expression and held Hermione to her.

"I know, dear, I know."

Sirius was looking very, very solemn. Harry looked closer at his face and was startled to see that his eyes were getting dangerously moist.

"When are we going to tell, Harry?" Margaret asked Sirius. Hermione looked up at Sirius and Margaret from where she was on the floor.

"I'm going to tell him. Tomorrow..."

Margaret looked saddened by this and nodded her head and continued to dab at Hermione's forehead with the cloth. Harry stood up. He knew that whatever it is that they wanted to tell him tomorrow, he wouldn't want to hear. Harry walked silently off to his bedroom to wait until morning.

_-_-_

Harry glanced around the breakfast table. Hermione was even paler than she had been of late and Sirius and Margaret were so serious looking that they all looked as if they were at a funeral. Harry stirred his porridge anxiously. Sirius, unable to take the awkward silence anymore, cleared his throat.

"I'm going out to pick out a Christmas tree today, would you like to join me, Harry?" he asked. Harry forced a smile and nodded.

_-_-_

Harry and Sirius piled into the car that Sirius had bought and the two of them headed down town to the old muggle tree farm. Harry would constantly bring up the subject of Hermione and Sirius would change the subject as quickly as possible, a game that Harry found rather unfunny.

It so happened that Harry lost his patience with his Godfather while they were looking at a rather scraggly looking tree towards the back.

"Sirius, what's wrong with Hermione?" Harry asked, tired of dancing around the subject and deciding on a more direct approach. Sirius put on a face of confusion.

"What do you mean, Harry?"

"Well, she's getting paler by the hour and she hardly moves at all, not to mention that she's practically stopped eating and sleeps more than her cat," Harry ticked off and watched as Sirius' jaw clenched tighter and tighter.

"What is it that you're not telling me, Sirius?"

Sirius pulled on the branch of a rather large blue spruce.

"This would look great in the living room!" he exclaimed, avoiding Harry's eyes. Harry placed his hand on Sirius' arm and Sirius looked down at him rather reluctantly. Sirius sighed and released the spruce.

"All I can tell you Harry is that Hermione's got something to tell you tonight and you're not going to want to hear what she has to say," Sirius said quietly. Harry dropped his hand and nodded. He'd have to wait until that night then.

_-_-_

"Nope, it looked better the other way," Margaret, instructed. With a little shrinking magic, Harry and Sirius had been able to transport the large blue spruce home. Now, Sirius was having a small wrestling match with the tree (trying to center it) and Margaret was not helping.

"Gees, Maggie, make up your mind," Sirius grumbled. Harry smiled. Sirius had never called Margaret "Maggie" before. Harry glanced over to see what Margaret thought about the new nickname and saw that she must like it because she was turning as red as a holly berry. Harry's suspicions about the two were confirmed.

"There! It's perfect! Wait right here and I'll go fetch some ornaments I found in the basement the other day," Margaret said before disappearing down the basement steps. Sirius leaned up against the wall, panting and sweating slightly from struggling with the massive evergreen. Harry looked around at Hermione, who was sitting in a chair close to the fire with her eyes closed. Harry got up from his place at the couch and walked over to her, placing a hand on her shoulder.

Hermione opened one of her eyes to peer up at him. She closed it again and smiled.

"Hello, Harry."

Harry knelt down next to her and stared at her face. The firelight danced across her features and cast an orange glow about the two of them. Harry reached out his fingers and gently brushed away the hair from her face. She opened her eyes again.

"Are you ok, 'Mione?"

She smiled weakly and replied,

"I'm just tired."

The sound of Margaret's pounding footsteps announced her arrival as she bounded into the room with three very large and very heavy boxes stacked on top of each other. Margaret stumbled a little and tripped on the edge of the rug and went flying. Sirius sprung up from where he had collapsed against the wall and ran over to her. Luckily, none of the boxes had landed on her. Sirius helped her to a sitting position. She looked slightly dazed as she glanced around the room. Then her eyes fell of Sirius.

"Oh, it's you," she murmured. Sirius blushed scarlet and pulled her to her feet. Margaret smiled.

"Thank you."

Sirius only nodded before taking a seat on the couch. Margaret reached down into one of the boxes on the floor and began to extract ornaments.

"Harry, will you help me decorate the tree?" Margaret asked as she struggled with a strand of garland. Harry nodded and got to his feet.

_-_-_

"There! It's finished," Margaret sighed. It was about an hour later and the Christmas tree looked spectacular. Margaret and Harry had finished hanging the handmade and store bought ornaments on the tree and Margaret had finished it off with a sprinkling of fairy dust that shone like the traditional Christmas lights, only this looked much more glamorous.

Sirius looked up from where he had dozed off on the couch. Margaret pranced over to him and sat down, nearly on his lap. Sirius sat up groggily and peered at the towering evergreen. He smiled and gave a nod of approval.

"It's lovely. What do you think, Hermione?" he asked the small girl who still inhabited the chair by the fire. She looked at the tree in wonder.

"It is wonderful," she said slowly. Margaret looked nervously between Harry and Hermione for a moment before hastily saying to Sirius,

"We should probably get to bed now, don't you think?"

Sirius nodded and the two of them got to their feet and headed up the stairs. Margaret called over her shoulders back down to the two of them,

"You guys stay up and talk for as long as you like!"

With that, they disappeared up the stairs and into their rooms. Harry and Hermione sat in uncomfortable silence for the longest time. Harry got sick of the silence and stood up and was about to go upstairs.

"I'll be heading off to bed now, too."

"No, Harry, wait," Hermione interrupted and got to her feet for the first time that evening. Harry walked over to her.

"Do you have something to tell me, Hermione?"

She looked at him with big eyes, fear, anticipation, and sadness all mixed together into one big emotion that took up her entire face.

"Yes, Harry. I do. Not here, though. Let's go out on the porch," her voice trailed off as she hobbled toward the back door. Harry snatched up a blanket that was on the couch and followed her.

Harry opened the back door and was met with the winter's chill and followed Hermione over to the porch swing. Snow glittered in the moonlight on the ground all around them. Hermione sat down on the swing and Harry sat next to her, wrapping the two of them in the blanket that he'd brought.

"What is it you need to tell me, 'Mione?"

Hermione closed her eyes and tried to rock the swing slightly with her feet. Harry squeezed her in a small embrace and repeated his question,

"What is it, 'Mione?"

Hermione opened her eyes and looked him straight in the face, her features devoid of all emotion.

"You won't want to hear this, Harry, at least I hope not."

"What is it, Hermione? The suspense is killing me!"

"Yeah, me too," Hermione mumbled under her breath.

"What?"

Hermione shook her head.

"Nothing."

"So will you tell me," he asked again.

"I'm just trying to figure out how to say it."

"Straight forward is always the best."

"All right," Hermione said as she shifted to look him straight in the eyes. She took both of his hands in hers and said,

"Harry... I'm dying."