Dream Chasing

Dream Chasing

Chapter 6. The Red Queen

"If this is a dream, I want to wake up! And if this is a nightmare - I never want to sleep again!"

She dumped the tray of dirty dishes, empty bottles and food-encrusted utensils on the counter with a clatter and simply stood there, glaring at the walls of the bustling restaurant, with its colorful walls made out of decks of cards from all over the world. She felt like going to the bar and grabbing a bottle of tequila or some other toxic substance and just dumping the place--

"Hey, Nic. Feeling all right?"

She turned, prepared to hex the interfering busybody into a different dimension - and stopped herself at the sight of the pretty Chinese girl who was looking at her with concern and apprehension. Nicole forced a smile but wouldn't have been surprised if the other girl stepped back as she bared her fangs, "No, I'm not. It's that time of the month."

"Oh hun, I'm sorry," the other girl responded. Nic felt arms wrapping around her in a firm and tight hug, and felt her anger and frustration seep away.

Slightly.

She hugged her friend back, and tried to lighten her voice. "Thanks, Lils. It's just that ..."

Lils smiled back at her. "I know, sweet. But what can we do? You know what they say, 'You either learn to like it ...'"

"'Or learn to live with it'." Nicole sighed and shook her head. Her anger at the situation was ebbing away, and she rolled her shoulders, wincing slightly at the pain as her sunburned skin stretched at the movement.

"That's better, sweetie. Now, why don't you go to the little girl's room and freshen up? You'll be on in a few minutes."

"Huh?" She blinked in confusion.

Lils rolled her eyes. "Have you forgotten? You volunteered to help Erin work the crowd tonight ... better that you do the singing than have that crowd of buffoons tear the house down with their huffing and puffing."

The noise of the restaurant finally penetrated Nicole's bothered brain and she shuddered at the painful, aching sounds of the man trying to work his way through "My Way," and absolutely losing his way.

"He sounds like a bull," Nicole remarked.

Lils blinked at her. "A bull?"

"Yeah - a bull who tried jumping over a barbed wire fence and is moaning over his loss."

"Nic!" Lils slapped her lightly on the arm - and both girls suddenly dissolved into laughter - and stopped as they felt the intense, heated glare of the dark-haired girl sitting at the piano, gamely trying to lead the befuddled singer back to the right way.

"Ummm ... better get ready. Erin's looking pissed enough as is."

Lils ventured a glance at the piano player -- and winced as her eyes met Erin's. She quickly turned back to Nicole. "Uh-huh. It's a good thing Joyce took the guns away ... Erin would have grabbed one and started shooting the place up."

Nicole looked at her piano-playing friend in surprise. "Erin?"

The other girl shook her head. "You haven't seen her when she's in a bad mood. She'd make Arnold Schwarzenegger look like a pansy in a tutu."

Nicole giggled at the image that came to mind. She started to walk away but stopped, a puzzled look on her face. "Why doesn't Erin just borrow a set of Gil's earplugs?"

Lils grinned and lifted her hair, revealing a pair of pumpkin earrings and something else plugged into her ears. "I beat her to it."

Nicole glanced at the entrance to the restaurant, and caught sight of their six-foot, 200 pound bouncer curled up in a corner looking as if someone had taken a foot to his groin, holding his hands to his ears with his face crunched up in pain as another disorientated singer tried to top the first one's masterful performance. "Poor Gil. He's really hurting."

"So you better get out there and rescue him, sweet," Lils replied. She glanced at the other patrons and sighed. "Go ... before this crowd decides to make 'My Way' the official song of the night."

Nicole shuddered and hurried off to the bathroom.

* * *

At a table near the center of the restaurant, a witch and wizard denied access to magic gamely tried to keep their faces from grimacing as another would-be Sinatra lost his way in "My Way." They gritted their teeth as the singer masterfully amputated a few lyrics from the song - and quickly glanced at their companions, wondering why they were so quiet in the midst of the noise.

Mr. Roarke, elegant as always, seemed most unaffected by the agonizing concert - for a moment, Harry was brought back to his first day at Hogwarts, watching the Headmaster as he wiped his eyes at the conclusion of the Weasley Twins' rendition of the school song. Ron, on the other hand, seemed to be slightly less affected than their host - Harry and Hermione's eyes met in concern as they noted the emptied bottle clutched fiercely in his fist.

Ron cocked an ear as silence descended for a moment over the place and, with a lopsided grin at his two friends, remarked, "A Silencing Charm would be useful right about now."

"No magic in this place, Ron," Hermione replied automatically, as she fought down a convulsive shudder, as the singer's voice finally broke down.

She felt Harry's warm hand wrapping around hers, and felt his knee brushing against her thigh - and she smiled at him. They both heaved a sigh of relief when they realized that the pretty pianist had changed the song - but exchanged horrified looks as a group at the next table began chanting:

"Is this the real life ?

Is this just fantasy ?

Caught in a landslide

No escape from reality."

Harry's look of horror was priceless: "Bohemian Rhapsody?"

Hermione could only nod mutely. As the new group began an impassioned - but totally tone-deaf - rendition of the song, she turned to their host: "Mr. Roarke ... is there some way, any way to stop them?"

Their host looked at her blankly for a moment and then leaned forward, his three guests leaning towards him to listen. "There is, Hermione."

As he paused, Harry whispered urgently, "And that is?"

"One of you has to take the microphone away from that group -"

"That's easy enough," Hermione interrupted.

"And you have to sing something," Mr. Roarke said, blandly. "This is a karaoke bar, you know."

The three teens blinked - and Harry felt the eyes of his best friends on him.

He quickly shrunk back in his chair: "No way, guys! I can't sing worth a damn! Crookshanks would do better than me in this place!"

Hermione was about to protest but gritted her teeth as an impassioned voice from the other table broke out:

"Mama, I just killed a man

Pulled a gun against his head

Put my trigger and now he's dead ...

Mama, life had just begun

But now I've gone and thrown it all away ..."

Ron suddenly straightened up in his chair, chugged down the dregs of whatever it was that he was drinking, and stood up, hissing, "I'll take care of this."

Harry and Hermione both tried to grab his arms but he eluded them, easily slipping away from them and walking, on unsteady legs, towards the pianist. His friends tried to move after him, but were stopped by a gesture from Mr. Roarke, and his suddenly stern tone of voice: "I think Ronald has the situation well in hand."

They sat down, confused. Hermione was the first to speak, "What is he going to do?"

A flash of amusement blinked for a moment in Mr. Roarke's eyes, but he said in a calm voice, "I doubt if Erin knows Celestina Warbeck."

"Then what's he going to do? Sing the School Song?" Hermione once again tried to stand up, but was stopped by Mr. Roarke's reproachful voice: "Miss Granger, you must have more faith in your friends. Cindy and Carolyn have far more faith in Mr. Weasley's singing than you have."

Hermione sank back in her chair at the reprimand, but Harry, who had been looking anxiously after Ron, whipped his head around to stare at their white-haired host. "How did you know about Carolyn and Cindy, Mr. Roarke?" he demanded, remembering the bouncy, fun-loving, mischief making first years who he'd come to regard as his younger sisters.

Mr. Roarke smiled blandly at him, blue eyes twinkling. Before Hermione could add her questions to those of Harry's, Erin the piano player had struck a series of chords - and the two cringed, prepared to dive under the table at the rain of bottles and plates they fully expected to start sailing once their friend opened his big mouth.

With a broad smile on his face, Mr. Roarke turned to face the piano beside which a weaving Ronald Weasley stood, waiting for his place in the song ...

* * *

Nicole washed her face carefully, trying to ignore the lingering twinges from her cramps - and wondering, for the nth time, what the hell was she doing here? Her earlier thought came back: What sort of dream world / insane asylum did she get herself into now?

All that she wanted was to have a nice, long, restful nap - time to heal her sunburned skin, time to rest her weary mind still spinning with potions, charms, history, numbers and predictions ... time to get this vicious monthly thing out of the way!

She sighed.

No, she thought, that wasn't all she wanted.

She wanted someone to call her own ... someone to hold on to when the worst of the cramps hit ... someone that she could sound off to on anything and everything which passed through her mind ... someone she could hug at odd moments, and feel that someone hugging her back.

That was the singular thought in her mind as she laid her head down on her soft and comfortable pillow --

Only to wake up in this place, being pressed by her friends into serving drinks and dinners to a bunch of uncouth louts (and loutesses?) who wouldn't know a tune if it bit them on their behinds.

She looked in the mirror and wondered, what was there not to like: shoulder-length brown hair, green eyes (though she had never felt remotely jealous of anyone before), blue glasses -- a nice form enclosed in the club's uniform of a khaki knee-length twill skirt, a orange tank and a black short-sleeve button-up shirt left unbuttoned ...

So why did she feel so lonely at this point? It wasn't that she was alone on the island, waiting for some Tarzan-like rescuer to come and save her from durance vile ... she had her friends with her, apparently sharing this whatever non-fantasy this was ...

The noise from outside the bathroom blasted through the thin walls, and she cringed. The music was appropriate for the place, she thought ... the singers, however, were not:

I see a little silhouetto of a man

Scaramouch, scaramouch will you do the fandango

Thunderbolt and lightning - very very frightening me

Gallileo, Gallileo,

Gallileo, Gallileo,

Gallileo Figaro - magnifico

Arrgh! At that moment, she was tempted to walk out of the bathroom and look for the guns that Joyce had hidden away - blast the darned place and the singers! -- to smithereens herself. She had a feeling that Erin, Lils and Joyce would be cheering her if she did that -

And shook her head in sudden laughter.

'Welcome to Fantasy Island,' Mr. Roarke had said when she first showed up. Right now, she was thankful that she wasn't living on Elm Street ... she didn't think comparing this place to "Nightmare on Elm Street" would earn her points with the management.

She took one more look in the mirror and sighed, remembering Lils earlier statement: "You either learn to like it, sweet - or learn to live with it."

If living with that horrendous mating call out there was the only way, she sighed ... "Shut up and soldier," she told herself - squared her shoulders, checked herself in the mirror, opened the door to step out into the raging storm ...

Only to step out into an utterly hushed dining room, patrons on the mushroom-shaped chairs with mouths wide enough to catch flies, mosquitoes, birds, leaping salmon or whatever - all eyes focused on the red-headed, freckle faced teen standing beside the piano, mike to his face ... his voice seemingly plucking at her heart ...

I can think of younger days when living for my life

Was everything a man could want to do

I could never see tomorrow, but I was never told about the sorrow

Unconsciously, Nicole started humming the chorus of the song beneath her breath as she watched the red-head on his impromptu stage seemingly making a plea for understanding and assistance from the audience ...

And how can you mend a broken heart?

How can you stop the rain from falling down?

How can you stop the sun from shining?

What makes the world go round?

At their table, Harry quietly slipped his arm around Hermione's waist, and entwined his fingers with hers. He watched her face as she turned to give him a peck on the cheek - a tear forming in an eye as she listened to the song from their best friend ...

How can you mend this broken man?

How can a loser ever win?

Please help me mend my broken heart and let me live again

Unconsciously, Nicole took a deep breath - totally unaware that she had stopped breathing a moment before. She licked at a corner of her lips ... not realizing that she had licked off a tear that had escaped her eye and rolled to her lips ...

I can still feel the breeze that rustles through the trees

And misty memories of days gone by

We could never see tomorrow, and no one said a word about the sorrow

As Ron continued his singing, a trio at another table began blending their voices into the song, their faces close together as they went into the chorus, a hand cupped to their ears as if listening to - and following closely - the music from Erin's piano ... and Hermione hissed in Harry's ears: "Aren't those guys the Bee Gees?"

Harry blinked and looked - turned back to Hermione and whispered back: "Yes, they are - but this is their song, right?"

"Well, Ron's doing a better job of it ..."

And how can you mend a broken heart?

How can you stop the rain from falling down?

How can you stop the sun from shining?

What makes the world go round?

As the voices blended, Hermione suddenly stood up and leaned towards Harry, whispering, "I can't take this, Harry ... I ... I've gotta go...."

Harry grabbed her hand, hard, hissing, "Where are you going?"

"The ladies' room , you nitwit!"

"Oh," Harry blushed and turned back to the stage where Ron was going into an impassioned finale, backed up by three professional singers with several decades of experience behind them....

How can you mend this broken man?

How can a loser ever win?

Please help me mend my broken heart and let me live again

Erin scarcely noticed the bushy-haired girl who slipped by her on the way to the bathroom, enthralled as she was with the song that was reaching an emotional and auditory crescendo, with the trio leading and Ron's impassioned voice providing a counterpoint:

How can you mend this broken man?

(How can you mend?)

How can a loser ever win?

(How can you win?)

Please help me mend my broken heart and let me live again.

Silence ruled as the song ended and, with a slight bow to the room, Ron Weasley gave the microphone over to Erin the pianist and started walking to the table he shared with his friends.

As he took a step, however, the room suddenly seemed to wake up - and a roar of applause met the suddenly red-faced teen as he proceeded to his table, as Erin announced a ten-minute break - and bolted for the washroom.

* * *

Nicole watched as her friend rushed past her, headed for the washroom - and turned to the bushy-haired girl who was standing beside her, watching the crowd cheer the red-headed guy: "Wow! That guy's really got what it takes! I don't think Erin's ever cried at a song before...."

Hermione looked with misty eyes at her friend as he made his way to their table. "Yes," she said. "I've known the git for five years and he's never shown us he can sing like that!"

Erin looked at her in shock: "Five --? Joyce, where've you been keeping this guy the whole time?"

The girl turned to her with a surprised, "Excuse me?" - and it was then that Nicole realized that the girl wasn't Joyce Cohen -- her friend and the manager / owner of the Red Queen. While at first glance, the girl was a virtual twin to her friend and boss, a close look would reveal the subtle differences - not the least of which were the clothes this person wore.

"I'm sorry," Nicole apologized. "You look almost exactly like ..."

"Uh-oh," the girl responded as she started to push her way through the restaurant. Nicole turned just in time to see the real Joyce Cohen deliver a hell of a wallop to the red-headed singer.

* * *

Ron was literally bouncing as he made his way to their table, shaking hands with people, feeling them pounding his back ... their cheers and applause washing over him as he walked in a daze.

He couldn't believe it.

How could he have gone up on that stage, faced all those strangers ... he must have been stone drunk at whatever concoction Mr. Roarke had been feeding him - he didn't doubt that whatever Gryffindor courage he possessed would have been insufficient for him to walk up to the piano player and request that song from his father's collection of Muggle music -- and pouring out all his pain, frustrations and emotions of the day into the song. For a brief moment, he wondered whether his friends would understand that his choice of song had nothing to do with them ... that it was a song that he'd had in his head for years, ever since he'd chanced upon the set of Muggle playing music that his dad had kept in the garage of the Burrow--

He saw his friends at their table - Harry up and applauding like mad, Hermione beside Mr. Roarke, talking with the latter, a tray in her hands - and he hurried to them, eager to celebrate his victory, as it were. He felt Harry grabbing him and hugging him, pounding his back ... broke off and grabbed his other best friend around her waist and spun her around, and gave her a resounding kiss on the cheek -

And nearly fell backward on their table as her hand connected with his cheek in a resounding slap!

"Hermione!" he yelled in shock, as he struggled to keep his balance - felt himself steadied as a hand grabbed his shirt and he turned to look into the dark eyes and broad, angry face of a man who was his height but double his bulk, vaguely realizing that the man's other hand was balled into a fist and was about to hit him, but stopped from doing so by a girl in blue glasses who was hanging on for dear life, heard Hermione's voice yelling his name behind him ('Behind me?' his brain yammered.)....

"Calm down, everyone!" the commanding voice of Mr. Roarke broke into the pandemonium like a butcher knife slashing down on a watermelon, and even Ron froze - staring at the Hermione in front of him while his brain wondered why her voice would be behind him - as their host continued, "I think there's a slight misunderstanding."

"I'll say," Hermione said, and he swung his head around, feeling his mouth drop open as he saw her behind him - swung his head back and saw her in front of him and said, "I must be drunk."

A giggle came from the girl who was holding on to the bouncer's arm and his head swiveled around to look at her - and for a moment, felt his heart stop.

The girl was ... no, he thought. Pretty wouldn't describe her - there was something beyond the physical features that he could see that made her ... different. There was a mischievous glint in the eyes behind her glasses, but her finely formed lips were pursed in concern; her fingers were white with the effort of holding on to the bouncer's arm, and there was an ... an aura of something that he could feel even as he stood on the other side of the big bouncer's bulk.

"Joyce, this is Hermione Granger, who is my guest on the island," Mr. Roarke was saying to the Hermione look-alike beside him, the shocked and angry face softening as she finally understood the honest mistake that Ron had made. Ron felt the grip on his shirt relaxing as Joyce said to Hermione, "We wouldn't happen to have been separated at birth, would we?"

"No, I don't think so," Hermione replied, an eyebrow raised at their host, who smiled and shook his head. "You're American, aren't you?"

The other girl nodded and smiled, and her eyes glanced to the others around the table, as she nodded to the man beside Ron, "It's OK, Gil. Just an honest mistake - and my apologies," she said to Ron.

"You're sure, Joyce?" Gil said, still looking suspiciously at Ron. "I could still throw him out ...?"

Joyce shook her head and raised her voice above the hubbub - "It's all right, people - just a slight misunderstanding! Please, no need to worry ... Lils, you can put down the butcher knife. Erin, quit looking for the guns - no need to shoot anyone right now."

She turned back to them and extended her hand to Ron, saying, "Anyone who can sing like that is welcome here ... I just got caught by surprise - I didn't know my twin sister was in the place."

Ron smiled at her and shook her hand firmly. "I'm Ron, by the way. Ron Weasley ... you've met Hermione, and this is Harry Potter."

Joyce smiled at the others and shook hands with Harry. For a moment, Ron wondered if he saw a flash of recognition pass through her face; in the next second, however, he'd forgotten about it as the introductions were made: "You've met Gil, and this is Nicole, or Nic as we call her."

Ron automatically shook hands with the bodyguard, but his eyes were on the other girl - and he caught himself wondering if his pea-sized brain had fallen out of his ears as he felt himself staring into her eyes.

'He's got beautiful eyes,' Nicole thought as she shook his hand. 'There's something ... pain? Loss? Something that he's missing ... he seems so lonely, even when he's with his friends. They must be very close, else why would he have given Joyce that hug and kiss when he thought she was his friend ..."

She suddenly shivered and jumped, nearly stumbling except for Ron's arms around her, his warm hand on her elbow - and she turned to glare at Lils, who had quietly walked up behind her and blew on her ear. The Chinese girl smiled at her and nodded towards the stage, saying, "Erin's waiting for you, hun - unless you want that group over there to start singing 'We Are The Champions'."

Nicole shook herself and blushed, realizing that she'd been standing there like a lunk as she held Ron's hand, and now seemingly unwilling to step out of the arms that were holding her. She carefully stepped away from him, avoiding looking at the raised eyebrows of her boss ... stepping away carefully and stopping her leg from kicking Gil in the shins as she heard his soft snicker ... squared her shoulders as she made her way towards the stage - and felt her skin flush even more as she felt eyes on her, and knew that Ron's blues were following her every step of the way.

As she grabbed the microphone from the piano, she tried to avoid the knowing look that Erin gave her and took a deep breath - suddenly panicking as she realized that she didn't even have a song in mind, and the panic giving way to shock as Erin took the decision out of her hands - a bouncy, enervating tune coming out of the electric piano, and Nicole had no choice but to find her place in the song as the other girl began:

Ahh, crush, ahhh

Nicole could only glare at her friend, who was smiling blandly at her - and she swung into the song and its mood:

I see ya blowin' me a kiss

It doesn't take a scientist

To understand what's going on baby

If you see something in my eye

Let's not over analyze

Don't go too deep with it baby

She glanced at the table where Ron and his friends sat and almost lost the beat and the lyrics as she met his suddenly twinkling blue eyes ...

So let it be what it'll be

Don't make a fuss and get crazy over you and me

Here's what I'll do

I'll play loose

Run like we have a day with destiny

She could hear Erin backing her up, but felt she could detect just the trace of a snicker and a smile of amusement beneath the other girl's voice as they went into the song's chorus:

It's just a little crush (crush)

Not like I faint every time we touch

It's just some little thing (crush)

Not like everything I do depends on you

Sha-la-la-la, Sha-la-la-la

She could feel her body swaying with the music and felt herself flush, wondering what Ron would be thinking as he watched her on stage with the strobes flashing (Lils must have turned on the mood lighting in the darned place), swaying to the beat, singing as if her heart depended on it ...

It's raising my adrenaline

You're banging on a harder tin

Please don't make too much of it baby

You say the word "forevermore"

That's not what I'm looking for

All I can commit to is "maybe"

She decided to forget about what he would be thinking, and concentrated on the song -

So let it be what it'll be

Don't make a fuss and get crazy over you and me

Here's what I'll do

I'll play loose

Run like we have a day with destiny....

* * *

Harry Potter grinned as he watched Ron's slack face looking towards the stage and the pretty girl swaying as she sang - and shook his head, wondering if Nicole had some trace of veela in her past. That was the only explanation he could think of, remembering Ron's voice as he yelled, "Did I tell you I've invented a broomstick that'll reach Jupiter?" - one of the few funny moments that marked that horrible night of the Quidditch World Cup, when they'd encountered the veela in the forest....

He wondered if Hermione would soon be helping him drag their friend away from Nicole and glanced at her face as she chatted with Joyce, who had joined them at their table - and wondered again how Ron could have mistaken the latter for Hermione. Sure, the physical resemblance between the two was striking - as well as the intelligence that sparkled behind their brown eyes ... but that was all.

Or maybe not, he thought, as he caught snatches of their conversation. There was the same drive and determination in their voices, the same seeming interests and perspectives on things ... but even as he listened and observed, he knew that there was no way that he would mistake one for the other.

They may have the same looks, intelligence and wit but he knew he could always tell them apart. Hermione was Hermione ... there would be no way in the world that he would ever mistake someone else for her, even if that someone used Polyjuice Potion and a hair from his Hermione's bushy head.

He felt a surge of affection for his best friend and companion and was about to lean forward to give her a kiss when he felt someone beside him. Turning, he looked up at the waitress placing fresh bottles and snacks on their table - and he felt a slight lurch in the region of his stomach that he hadn't felt since his third year at the match with Ravenclaw -

"Cho?" he croaked.

As he said the name, he shook his head as if to clear it, apologizing at the same time to the pretty Chinese girl who'd said, "Excuse me?" in a puzzled tone. He flushed as he felt Hermione's eyes on him - and cursed himself as he felt a blush begin to rise up in his face. Of all the stupid things to say, he thought, why did he have to mistake this girl for his Quidditch counterpart?

Looking at her, he could see not only subtle but major differences between Cho and this girl - not the least of which was the humor that sparked in this girl's eyes. Not that Cho was humorless, of course; but this girl seemed to be imbued with it - and he wondered who would win out in a clash of wits with this girl. He didn't doubt that he'd be locked up in St. Mungo's if he ever tried anything with her - she looked to be extremely capable of taking care of herself, even if she did look frail and ...

He heard Joyce say, "Thanks, Lils - would you mind placing this on my tab?" and the girl assenting before moving away. He risked a glance at Hermione then, and felt a wave of relief wash through him as he realized that she was not glaring at him - but was standing up and applauding, and he realized that Nicole's song (or songs) had ended ... and he joined in the riotous cheering that Ron seemed to be leading, as he clapped and whistled at the girl on the stage.

He felt himself standing up and cheering, more in an effort to distract Hermione from his earlier faux pas, vowing to himself that he'd make it up to her for his momentary lapse - and suddenly heard her shouting his name. He glanced at her in surprise, wondering why she did that - and realized that the people in the restaurant had picked up on the shout, and were all yelling his name.

Before he could even open his mouth, he heard Nicole on the stage saying, "Harry? Would you mind coming up here?" - and knew that Hermione had set him up. He glared at her smirking face, and saw Joyce smiling beside her - a mischievous grin lighting up her face in the same way that he'd seen Hermione laughing as they walked to the Great Hall after Malfoy had been turned into a bouncing ferret.

He saw Nicole walking towards him, microphone in hand - and he glared again at Hermione's smiling face, and felt his anger dissolving as she blew him a kiss. He started to walk towards the stage and stopped as Nic met him by their table - suddenly frozen as he wondered what song to sing that wouldn't embarrass him or his friends....

He glanced at Erin at the piano, who was looking at him with an eyebrow raised in question. From somewhere - he didn't know what or who - something seemed to infuse his mind, and he mouthed two words at Erin ... and smiled when she nodded and turned to the keys.

He felt the microphone in his hands, heard Nic's whispered, "Good luck," as she passed by him to join Ron and the others at their table, and he stood there in the middle of the room, hoping that Erin had understood his request ... and felt a smile break out on his face as she played a few experimental chords on the piano. He smiled and nodded at her, and she quickly ran a few bars of the song while he focused himself ... and began.

* * *

Hermione's smirk faded as she watched Harry stand up and walk towards the stage as if he had a date with the hangman, and berated herself for the swift stab of jealousy she felt when she heard him whisper Cho's name. She couldn't help it, she told herself - this was her fantasy, after all ... she wanted to have time to herself with her best friend and ... she admitted to herself, the person she loved best.

It was only natural, she told herself, as she watched Nicole approach Harry with the microphone ... why should the memory of Cho intrude into her fantasy world? But even as she thought it, she felt a moment's insecurity pass through her as she remembered the lithe, athletic and pretty Seeker for the Ravenclaws - and remembered Harry's face as he watched Cho's tear-streaked face during the Leaving Feast after the Goblet of Fire fiasco.

She wanted to run after Harry and stop him from embarrassing himself because of her stupidity; looked up as the first notes of the song started - and felt her heart in her throat as she saw Harry approaching her, his green eyes on hers as he sang:

I can only give you love that lasts forever,

And a promise to be near each time you call.

And the only heart I own

For you and you alone

That's all,

That's all

She felt the tears spring into her eyes as she watched him come closer; felt a sudden warmth as everything around her faded away into darkness ... saw only Harry's face as he came closer, her eyes on him alone as his were on hers alone ... felt his fingers on her cheeks as he brushed a tear away: ...

I can only give you country walks in springtime

And a hand to hold when leaves begin to fall;

And a love whose burning light

Will warm the winter night

That's all,

That's all.

She felt the solemn mood break as Harry quietly handed the microphone to Ron, who took up the song as Harry took her hands in his and quietly, carefully pulled her up to stand with him ... neither one hearing Ron's mellow voice floating into the room as he sang with his eyes locked on Nicole's ...

There are those I am sure who have told you,

They would give you the world for a toy.

All I have are these arms to enfold you,

And a love time can never destroy.

Ron quietly handed the microphone to Nicole who continued the song, her eyes also locked on Ron's as she ignored Harry and Hermione who were slowly dancing, with their arms around each other ... and felt Ron's hands around her waist as he slowly led her into a dance, as she continued singing:

If you're wondering what I'm asking in return, dear,

You'll be glad to know that my demands are small.

Say it's me that you'll adore,

For now and evermore

That's all,

That's all.

The two couples looked up as violin music quietly flowed into the room - and smiled as they saw Lils on the stage beside Erin, providing a beautifully haunting bridge as they slowly danced - Hermione with her head on Harry's shoulder, Nic placing hers on Ron's ... and they swung around their table for a few moments, each hearing the hearts of their partners beating in time with theirs ...

Nic felt a hand on hers, without looking, she relinquished the microphone - and smiled as she heard Hermione filling the room with her soft, clear voice:

If you're wondering what I'm asking in return, dear,

You'll be glad to know that my demands are small.

Say it's me that you'll adore,

For now and evermore

That's all,

That's all.

* * *

Nic stepped away from Ron as the song ended, and the room erupted in thunderous applause. She felt herself flushing from the emotions that the song evoked - and wondered what she was doing there, scarcely a foot away from him, her heart beating away in her ears, staring at his intensely blue eyes.

She had barely exchanged more than greetings and introductions with him, had not even had a decent conversation with him - and yet ...

It felt as if the songs sung that night were all the conversation needed - as if the music and lyrics were all they needed to understand each other. There was something intriguing about this, Nic thought - something that needed to be explored further ...

She turned her head at a soft cough from Mr. Roarke - and felt her heart sinking to her shoes at the apologetic note in the cough. Somehow she knew ...

"I'm sorry, but it is getting rather late ... and I am afraid that Ronald has to be going on home soon."

She watched as their host held up his hands at the vociferous protests from the three friends, and felt her heart leap as she watched Ron arguing most heatedly with him, his freckled face growing redder by the second ...

She felt a tug somewhere in her mind, and knew that even she would soon have to wake up from this dream, or fantasy, or whatever it was ... doubtless Joyce would be able to explain this to her when she woke up - and wondered whether the memories of this time would be retained.

She felt Ron's pained eyes on her and she smiled tremulously at him, and turned to Mr. Roarke, who was repeating himself for the fourth or fifth time - and asked, "There is time for one more song, isn't there, Mr. Roarke?"

Their eyes locked for a long moment before Mr. Roarke nodded, giving a silent assent to her request. Teary-eyed, she turned towards the stage where Erin and Lils were watching them, pained and understanding looks on their faces. For a brief second, their eyes locked - and silently, the two nodded, knowing what song Nicole wanted - no, needed - to sing.

Nic picked up the microphone and turned to Ron, saying in a soft and low voice, "This is for you, Ron," as the mellow sounds of cello and piano drifted into the room:

When the dark wood fell before me

And all the paths were overgrown,

When the priests of pride say there is no other way,

I tilled the sorrows of stone.

Ron slowly took her hand, quietly rubbing his thumb along the back of her hand, his blue eyes seeming to bore into her soul.

I did not believe because I could not see

Though you came to me in the night.

When the dawn seemed forever lost

You showed me your love in the light of the stars.

Cast your eyes on the ocean,

Cast your soul to the sea,

When my dark night seems endless,

Please remember me.

She watched as tears formed in his eyes, and felt his fingers entwining themselves around her fingers. She gripped his warm hand tightly, and her voice suddenly dropped slightly as she continued singing,

Then the mountain rose before me

By the deep well of desire

From the fountain of forgiveness

Beyond the ice and the fire.

Cast your eyes on the ocean,

Cast your soul to the sea,

When the dark night seems endless,

Please remember me.

She felt the tears streaking down her face, felt Ron's soft but callused fingers gently wiping them away ...

Though we share this humble path alone,

How fragile is the heart.

Oh give these clay feet wings to fly

To touch the face of the stars.

Breathe life into this feeble heart

Lift this mortal veil of fear.

Take these crumbled hopes, etched with tears

We'll rise above these earthly cares.

She felt Ron leaning towards her, and felt her heart slowing down as his arms went around her waist ... closed her eyes as she came to the final stanza of the song, felt herself being drawn closer to him, his warm and minty breath touching her lips ...

Cast your eyes on the ocean,

Cast your soul to the sea,

When my dark night seems endless,

Please remember me.

Please remember me ...

Please remember me ...

Please remember me ...

* * *

Her lips were soft ... sweet ... yielding and oh, so warm. He pressed his lips to hers, feeling a warmth flow into him, filling up the empty place in his chest that had been aching since the moment he and his brothers and Ginny brought his friends to the Hospital Wing - and he realized that, while their friendship as a Trio was intact, his best friends had a connection and a life together that he was not part of.

As his lips pressed on Nicole's, he could feel that aching, lonely pain dissipate - to be replaced by a feeling of warmth and completion ... and he knew that his life from this point on would be different. He would still be a part of Harry and Hermione's lives - five years together would never change that. But now, there would be someone of his own ...

As she would have someone of her own.

As the kiss deepened, he felt her hands on his chest and he pulled her ever closer to him, wanting nothing more than to feel her warm body as close as he could possibly make it ... and felt hurt suddenly leaping into his heart as he felt her hands pushing him away. He tried to hold her closer but with an unimagined strength, she managed to push him back and away from her.

Hurt, feeling betrayed, he opened his eyes - and felt them widen to the size of dinner plates as he saw Madam Pomfrey stumbling back, away from him - hair disheveled and in wild disarray, wearing her nightdress with a flannel robe over it, a candle floating beside her ... mouth a round 'O' as she drew breath in - to scream, to curse, to hex him, he didn't know --

And didn't care.

With a move that would have made Harry, Hermione and his brothers and only sister proud, he whipped out his wand and pointed it at Madam Pomfrey, murmuring "Obliviate!" - and hoping in the same instant that he hadn't overdone the Memory Charm that he'd read about but never seen done properly before.

He watched with bated breath as the nurse stood before him with glazed eyes ... shook her head and looked at him keenly and said, "Oh, good - you're awake, Mr. Weasley."

He heaved a sigh of relief and felt his body deflating. Before he could say anything else, Madam Pomfrey was patting the pockets of her robe and he tensed, afraid that she was reaching for her wand ... and again breathed in relief as she pulled out a small parchment from a pocket.

"Professor McGonagall was here earlier," the nurse continued. "She said to let you sleep ... and to give you this note if you have to go to your dorm after curfew. This should get Mr. Filch off your back ... if you decide to drop by the kitchens, that is," she added with a grin.

"Thank you, Madam Pomfrey," he said, as he reached for the note, at the same time unobtrusively tucking his wand out of sight. He was about to stand up when he heard a low growl from his friends' beds - and turned to see Crookshanks stretching his body on Hermione's bed, bottle-brush tail standing straight up.

"Hey, Crookshanks," he said to the cat. "Seems like you fell asleep with me ... ready for some supper?"

"Mhrowh," the cat replied as it lithely jumped to the floor and began rubbing himself against Ron's legs. He looked down at the cat and smiled; turning to Madam Pomfrey, he bid her good night and turned for a look at his friends.

He gave a wistful smile as he saw that they had rolled to their sides, facing the same direction - but with Harry's hand resting lightly on top of Hermione's elbow ... wide smiles still on their faces, and he wondered for a fleeting moment what dreams they may be having right now - and hoping that, for at least some of those dreams, he was still their friend, still a member of their unbeatable trio.

He frowned as he thought he saw a shadow move in the flickering candlelight - forehead creased as he thought he saw a girl with shoulder-length hair blowing him a kiss before turning away, a glint of light reflecting off blue-rimmed glasses and he felt his insides warmed for a brief moment ...

"Meowhrr!" He glanced down at Crookshanks just as he heard a growl from the region of his stomach, and his mind turned to more important - and urgent - matters. And yet, he felt a slight tinge of pain in his mind as his mind tried to focus on food ... and he somehow knew that his mind would not be at rest in the coming nights.

Not until he found that girl with shoulder-length hair and blue glasses somewhere as he chased a dream.

He shook himself from his funk, and looked at Crookshanks. "Let's go, Crookshanks ... let's see if Dobby knows how to cook lasagna."

He frowned for a moment, wondering where that thought came from ... with a shrug of his shoulders, he said good night to Madam Pomfrey and his friends, and walked into the darkened castle with the cat leading.

He didn't see Madam Pomfrey looking at him, a slight frown on her face, touching her lips as her mind struggled with the thread of a memory that was seemingly slipping from her grasp. With a sigh, she walked back to her rooms and, with a quiet, "Nox!" extinguished the light in the Hospital Wing - leaving two teens asleep in their joined beds, still chasing a dream.