Sleeping Hermione

'Sleeping Hermione''

By Lorenzo J. Alviso

~Prologue~

Harry was on the ground panting as Voldemort stood over him, laughing menacingly. The ground was as cold as his laugh and Harry didn't have the strength to get up. He felt Voldemort's wand on his aching back as Voldemort hissed in his ear. ''Today, I will do what I have been meaning to do for eighteen years.'' Harry could feel the Dark Lord's cold, serpentine breath on the back of his neck and he shuddered. ''Today,'' Voldemort continued, ''You, Potter, will die!''

Harry felt Voldemort's wand lift and he raised his head a bit, the searing pain of his scar limiting his sight. Through clouds of fogginess he saw Voldemort reach in his robes for a dagger. Harry didn't have the strength to transfigure himself and escape. He knew any second he would feel the dagger's slice, although he doubted its pain would challenge the sting of his scar.

Then, Harry felt it. The Dagger was thrust into his back and its cold penetration made his eyes water. He started to drift away from it all. His vision was no more than a soft light that was slipping away and becoming darkness. The last thing he heard was Voldemort cry out in pain...

~Chapter one: "Nightmare"~

Ron woke up from a breeze that caressed the curtains framing his window. At first he was very groggy, trying to decide if he really was awake before opening his eyes widely. He jumped from the big fluffy bed he had been sleeping in. He turned towards his bedroom door, which had always been to his right in his room in The Burrow, but he realized he was not at the burrow. The Burrow had been destroyed by Voldemort's followers.

Ron headed down the stone steps with his bare feet, half wishing he had put on his slippers. He couldn't believe that it had happened again. Ron appeared downstairs where Mrs. Weasley was knitting in the farthest corner of a large dinning room.

''Ron, you're up early. Would you like some breakfast, then? Some Kippers or toast or...," Mrs. Weasley stopped short, seeing Ron was panting and out of breath. ''Ron what is it?'' Ron had dashed the last part of the journey through his new home, a mansion the Weasley's now lived in.

''Mum! It's happened for a second time!'' Ron said, enthusiastically pointing to his head. His voice was ragged from his run. ''I saw that night through Harry's point of view!''

Mrs. Weasley looked a bit frightened and she said, ''Was it the very same as the last time?'' Ron nodded, his breath returning to a steady intake. ''Well,'' Mrs. Weasley proclaimed. ''Calm down a bit and I'll send your father an Owl.''

Ron was back in his room, sitting at a grand desk by the window with Pigwidgeon. He was writing furiously to Hermione.

Dear Hermione,

It happened again! I was asleep and I dreamed about Harry! It was from his perspective again. I felt the pain and everything! I woke up and told Mum and she's sending an Owl to Dad at the Ministry. I'm kind of freaked out right now so get back to me as soon as possible!

-Ron

Ron attached the note to Pigwidgeon's leg and leaned back in the chair, hoping Hermione would appear within moments out of the fireplace in his room. How he wished he could just see her...

~Chapter two: "Just sitting"~

Hermione had indeed arrived soon and she sat on the end of Ron's bed as he recounted his vision. After he was done he looked at Hermione with the hope that she might have the answer to his problem. She didn't look like she made any major breakthrough, but she seemed like she understood vaguely what it all meant.

''Well, Ron, it only brings me back to what we discussed before,'' she announced, matter of factly. ''Harry is still out there.''

Ron thought about the night when Harry had vanished. Ron and Hermione had arrived to find Voldemort standing over Harry with a dagger in his back. Hermione shouted the 'Avada Kadavra' curse at Voldemort, but as he and Harry, by the slice of the dagger, had passed at the same time, Hermione couldn't see this possible. ''Trelawney predicted that either would die, Harry or Voldemort, and not both. It's highly likely that they are both still out there.''

Ron looked frightened and almost fell off the bed when Ginny barged into the room, asking, ''Ron, did you really dream about Harry?!'' Ron nodded hesitantly and Ginny smiled triumphantly. ''I knew it! Harry must be alive! If only we could find him!''

***

Hermione was sitting at the window and Ron at the desk as Ginny lay sideways on the bed, her head hanging over the edge and her hair hanging limply. It had been an hour since Ginny came in, and nobody had said a word since.

''Well, you know,'' Hermione had said fully as if they had all been deep in conversation, ''The Order is looking for him, but they don't really know where to start, do they?''

''No,'' Ron agreed. ''I guess...''

Ginny sat up and looked at the two. ''You know what bothers me?'' Ron and

Hermione looked a bit perplexed. ''Voldemort has been in this state. This state of barely living. He knows how to get around and come back. What if Harry can't...'' she stopped, unable to finish her sentence. Nobody said anything after this. The moment of silence was almost expected.

Ron stood up suddenly. ''Why are we standing around? We should be looking for him! He saved us! WHY-ARE-WE-JUST-SITTING-HERE!?''

Neither of the girls had jumped, as they may well have been about to scream themselves. ''Well what do you suggest we do?'' Ginny responded.

''I don't know!'' Ron said, a bit let down. ''I just feel that we should be helping him. He could be hurt. Or alone! Or scared...'' Ron turned around and Hermione really didn't know if he was crying or not. She got watery eyed as well, for she herself had worried about Harry. But mostly, they had all missed Harry. In fact, everyone missed him. Mrs. Weasley had cried daily and the morale of the Daily Prophet had been low as well. People all wanted Harry found safely. Stories filled every paper about Harry and Voldemort's mysterious disappearance, though the story was at least given fully. And everyone wanted Harry to return-- before Voldemort...

***

The wind is so cold... This is the only way to move... I'm too light.

Floating...floating...floating... the buzzing doesn't go away. The...

floating... stay awake... Is the wind always...cold... floating...

stay... is this... light...?