A Time for Understanding

Hermione took a sidelong glance to her left as she feigned interest in the cover of a dusty manuscript lying atop Dumbledore's desk. Discreet as it may have been, her look of concern was instantly recognized and returned by an unmistakable scowl and further hunching into a chair. Hermione sighed and averted her eyes, bringing them to rest upon her hands which had taken to twisting her robes into messy, rumpled contortions. She had to admit, seeing Harry sitting sulky and small in that overstuffed chair was cause enough for her to feel the pangs of guilt, even though she knew her actions were entirely justifiable. Hermione had spent a good portion of the previous night trying to come up with a happy alternative to this unsolicited assembly, but had come to realize...there was none. It had taken her the entire day to convince Harry of his responsibility. Looking at him now, she recognized he was not entirely convinced. She had first tried to be caring and understanding in her persuasion, but had found it necessary to resort to the standard methods of prodding and bossing in order for him to comply with her demands. Needless to say, he had not been pleased. But even with the frustration Harry had given her, she couldn't be angered. Hermione took another subtle look in his direction. She understood him more than he knew.

Dumbledore had known they were coming, it seemed. The stairs had greeted them as usual, and although the headmaster himself was not yet present, there had been three chairs in formation before his desk, waiting for their occupants. Harry now sat between Hermione and Ron in a most uncomfortable sandwich. Ron peered over Harry's bowed head and gave Hermione a look of open-eyed helplessness. Hermione quirked her lips in acknowledgment.

She was so tired, and life was so hard. It seemed to her as soon as she had stepped into the wizarding world her life had become a series of misadventures, each laced with their own set of deadly obstacles. She had spent the past seven years watching the children around her too soon leave behind the innocence of childhood, only to be met with the harsh realities that always accompanied war. She wished she could spare them that. She wished she could spare herself that. But she knew from experience such wishes were only an exercise in futility. Still, it wasn't right. The path to adulthood is already fraught with numerous brambles and thorns. One did not need a Dark Lord to complete the triangle.

She moved about uncomfortably in her chair, hoping that Dumbledore would hurry with whatever he was doing and take control of the situation. It had been more than difficult to ensure Harry's presence there tonight. With Dumbledore's excessive tardiness, she was uncertain how long her friend could be kept waiting.

It seemed the same thoughts were running through Harry's mind. She saw a flicker of impatience overpower his obvious irritation, and what she thought was a restless shift of his body was actually him rising from his seated position.

He stood tall, glowering at Hermione while addressing her in as commanding a tone as he could manage. "That's it, Hermione. I've waited here for twenty minutes now. Obviously Dumbledore doesn't think any of this to be important, and I agree with him. You are overreacting. Which is very like you." he added spitefully. "I'm leaving."

Hermione felt a sense of panic rise to here throat. She knew that if need be she could convince Dumbledore to track Harry down. But they were here, and the information needed to come out now. She opened her mouth to argue, but was surprised as another figure stood up next to Harry, effectively blocking his sole path to freedom.

"I'm sorry, Harry. But you need to do this. Dumbledore will be here soon. You have to sit down and wait."

Ron didn't budge from his spot; it was obvious he was going nowhere. Harry glared at his long time best friend, assessing if an argument would be worth his while. Ron's shoulders were squared, his expression resolute. There would be no help found there. Harry turned his head to look at Hermione. Her eyes were begging him to stay even if her words were not. It was evident his friends would not let this go until he did fulfilled his 'duty'. Harry sank back down in his seat, arms crossed in silent protest. Hermione looked at Ron with a mixture of pride and gratitude. It was a comfort that she didn't have to do this alone.

They'd been seated for only a few minutes longer when Dumbledore finally made his appearance, purple robes trailing behind him. His usual carefree countenance seemed to have been exchanged for a much more serious one. There was no smile on his face, and for once Hermione did not expect an offer of lemon drops. Taking his seat, Dumbledore placed his hands on either side of his desk before speaking in soft, serious tones.

"Children, I understand this is not a social call. Therefore with my regret, we will skip the usual pleasantries."

Ron and Hermione looked at each other in surprise, while Dumbledore disregarded then both and turned to Harry.

"I have been led to believe that you wish to discuss something with me, Harry."

"I don't wish it, Professor. I've been forced; to come here, to tell you something that probably doesn't even warrant your attention."

Hermione let out a snort at that statement, and Harry turned his head to glare at her.

"Be that as it may, Harry, Ron and Hermione believe what you have to say is of some importance. They have been your friends for these many years. Have you not trusted their judgment before?"

Heavy silence then filled the room; Harry's conflict was plain to see, his expression wavering between fear and reason. It was a hard battle, but reason emerged triumphant. He met the headmaster's gaze with steady, saddened eyes.

"The dreams have come back." He spoke the words softly, looking pained to speak them. Dumbledore's countenance did not change, so Harry continued if only to get a reaction for his audience.

"They were disturbing...and at first I thought they might mean something. I couldn't sleep; I was too busy looking for signs, expecting the worst...But it has been over a week now, and nothing bad has happened. Which is why I'm sure I was overreacting."

"Will you be more specific about the dreams, Harry?"

Harry sighed, running his hands through his hair in frustration. "Fine!" he exclaimed. "I've been dreaming about Voldemort." He looked at Hermione and then Ron. "I didn't tell you two this part. I saw him. Here."

"What do you mean, here?" asked Ron, his face a mixture of confusion and concern.

"I mean, he was here...at Hogwarts. He was strutting about like he owned the place. He was in this office. And the Great Hall too. And I could feel what he felt. He was...he was ecstatic about something. I just don't know about what," he said miserably.

Dumbledore looked at Harry severely. "What else did you see?"

Harry shook his head. "Just Voldemort. The rooms that I saw him in were empty. He didn't say anything, and there was no one else around."

Dumbledore's fingers curled into his fists as he leaned further across his desk. "You remember nothing else?"

"Just the way he felt...like he was really proud of himself. Like he just accomplished something. That's what worried me. Something truly terrible would have to happen for him to be so pleased, wouldn't it?"

Dumbledore bobbed his head in agreement, staring pensively at his desk. Then he raised his eyes to meet the green ones focused upon him.

"I am glad you came to me, Harry. You are fortunate to have such devoted friends. During times like these, we must appreciate them even more so." Dumbledore nodded at the two on either side of him. "I must tell you, I believe there is something to your dreams. And I have the suspicion you feel the same as well."

Harry looked guiltily at his shoes.

Dumbledore continued, "Your connection to Voldemort is regrettable, but at the moment it is also our only advantage. That said, we do not have enough information to act upon. Of course we will raise our guard-- but that is all we can do. You saw Voldemort here; yet that could mean a number of things. He is certainly not here now, nor do I believe he is foolish enough to attack Hogwarts itself. The wards cannot be breached whilst I am here."

There was a long pause as the trio attempted to digest what they'd just heard.

Hermione stood up. She had been listening in silence, not wanting to interrupt the important dialogue between Harry and Dumbledore. But this passivity infuriated her. She had not fought and possibly alienated her friend for this sort of apathy.

"Sir, you can't possibly mean that! Harry just told you some potentially vital information, and you've essentially decided to do nothing!" Hermione's voice was raised; had it been any other conversation she would have experienced extreme mortification at addressing a professor so. As it was, she could hardly contain her fury.

"Ms. Granger, I understand your frustration. Believe me when I tell you it is the same frustration that I myself face. I will look into the matter as best I can. But remember, I no longer have ears among Voldemorts' men." He looked at Hermione gravely. "You must understand, Ms. Granger, I cannot let Voldemort disrupt our way of life. I won't have it."

"He is disrupting our lives, whether you would have it or not." Hermione spit the words out venomously. "We cannot just sit by and wait for something to happen. We have to take measures to protect ourselves. To protect our friends." She looked over at Harry, willing him to forgive as well as understand.

"I'm afraid she is right, Albus." A deep, gravelly voice came from behind Hermione. She turned around and saw the worn face of Severus Snape. He had quietly entered the crowded room and had taken a place of silent support next to the militant, animated Hermione.

She turned and looked up at his dark figure. He was rumpled and dirty, the shadows under his eyes attesting to the fact that he'd had no sleep since she'd left him the previous night. Hermione had never been so happy to see him. A small smiled appeared in place of the frown she'd just been wearing.

"Unfortunately, I've come into some information that has relevance to Mr. Potter's dreams. It's serious, Albus. We're dealing with a mad man. It seems that--"

"Harry, Ron, Hermione...will you excuse us please?" Dumbledore interjected, looking at them pointedly.

"But Professor Snape just said it had to do with Harry's dreams! We have a right to hear what he has to say." Hermione stared reproachfully at her headmaster. Not for the first time, she felt hints of resentment well up towards his person.

Snape came closer to Hermione and laid a heavy hand on her shoulder. "Patience, Ms. Granger." He looked at her, no sign of threat in his voice. Instead, his eyes were filled with exhaustion and a silent request for her compliance.

Hermione bit her lip, practically choking on her resignation.

Harry, who had been aching to leave in the first place, was quick to follow Dumbledore's orders. He needed no further urging and filed wordlessly out of the room, trailed by a reluctant Ron who glanced back questioningly when Hermione didn't follow. She looked at Severus once more.

"Later," he said firmly.

Hermione nodded in submission, leaving the two men to whisper their dark secrets, envious of the books and unhearing walls that remained to be their audience.