To Dwell on Dreams: I. 1st Night

As Hermione stomped grouchily into the dormitory, she could hear Parvati's high-pitched voice wailing again.

"…and it was so weird, I mean I've known Seamus since first year and I never once considered him as – well – boyfriend material!"

"That's not completely true," said Lavender.  "Remember those nights we used to joke about who would get together in our year?"

"But Lavender, he looked really serious!  I didn't know what to say, I mean I didn't want to hurt him or anything – but – oh, I guess I'll just have to go with him!"

Disgusted, Hermione dropped her backpack next to her bed and walked swiftly past them to the bathroom.

"He is sort of cute," Lavender remarked thoughtfully.  "And he's nice.  I wouldn't complain if I were you.  And it'll still be Hogsmeade…"

I wouldn't complain about it either, thought Hermione furiously.  With the exception of the Yule Ball in fourth year, she had never really gone on a date with anyone.  Granted, she wasn't sure it was really necessary – she and Krum had done well enough with a school library, for heaven's sake.  But it still irked her to hear Parvati whining about yet another guy asking her out.

It was only the second week of sixth year, and Hermione was already sick of seeing people twenty-four hours a day.  She wished she had appreciated her parents' company more, back at home.  They were people she could truly relate to, people who understood what it was like not to think about romance or dresses or looks every hour of their lives – even their marriage had been a perfectly sensible, rational decision.  Sometimes she was really glad to have Ron and Harry as friends; at least they didn't – well – sometimes they weren't –

She brushed her teeth vigorously, splashed her face, and returned to her bed, all the time trying not to think about Ron and Harry.  Parvati and Lavender were still discussing Parvati's little incident, but Hermione took no notice as she flopped onto her mattress and began to mentally plan out tomorrow's schedule.  She gave up after a minute, when sleepiness began to take its hold on her.  Oh, that really had been a very, very bad day…

Ron was yelling at her for being such a swotty know-it-all.  " 'It's Wingardium LeviOsa, not Wingardium LevioSA' – honestly, it's no wonder you've got no girl friends.'"

Hermione stood up and burst into tears.  Ron kept hurling insults until her tears began to flood the common room.  The water rolled like an ocean all around them.  Harry leapt to his feet, pointed his wand towards the floor and shouted, "EXPECTO PATRONUM!"  A silver otter shot from the wand-tip – but it was a giant otter, which dived behind Hermione and lifted her off her feet.  She didn't scream, even as the giant otter splashed through the water and swept through walls, carrying her out of Hogwarts on its back.

The otter swam through the air, which wasn't really air, for some reason; it felt just as heavy as water, and tousled Hermione's hair as she passed through it.  The trees below lifted their leafy heads towards them.  Their croaky voices, garbled by the water, screamed, "Escapee from Hogwarts Prison!" over and over.  Hermione hid her still-damp eyes behind her hands.

When she had uncovered them, the otter was diving through an open door leading into a log cabin.  The air didn't feel so heavy anymore.  Strains of piano music could be heard from a nearby room.  Whatever it was, it was being played very impressively by –

A dissonant note interrupted the flow, just as the silver otter touched down.  There was the sound of wood slamming against wood.  A girl's voice yelled in frustration.

Hermione rose from the otter's back, a little shakily, and called out, "Hello?"

Something rustled on her right.  She turned – there was an open doorway.  A few seconds later, a ghostly head popped in from the side.

"Who's that?" it said sharply, before the whole body strode into view and stood before Hermione.

"I'm – a student at Hogwarts – from Hogwarts, I mean," Hermione said uncertainly, gazing at the figure with wonder.  It was a girl who looked, at most, a year older than Hermione – ignoring her whitish-grey hair, which was cut just below her shoulders.  Then again, the rest of her body was the same color.

The girl stared at Hermione for a few moments before speaking again.  "What's your name?  Why are you here?"

The thought suddenly struck Hermione that this silvery girl might not know what Hogwarts was.  After all, piano practice wasn't really a witch's sort of thing, was it?

 "I'm Hermione Granger, and I have no idea why I'm here, I think I'm just dreaming" – she wondered why this part of her dream seemed a lot less dreamlike than the rest of it – "and who are you?"

"Jane Smith," the girl said firmly.  There was a rather awkward pause.

"N-nice to meet you," Hermione finally offered, after wiping the last tears from her face onto the back of her hand.

"Well…er…why don't you come in.  You're dreaming, you said?"  She gestured for Hermione to follow her.  Hermione obeyed, all the while staring at Jane's face – there was something familiar about her, but she couldn't put her finger on it.

"I was just practicing the piano," muttered Jane, waving towards a baby grand in the far corner of the room they had just entered.  She flopped onto a small couch set in the middle.  Hermione didn't know whether to follow suit.  After about three seconds' deliberation, she did.

"So, you're from Hogwarts?" Jane asked her casually.

"Yes.  Do you know about it?"

"I used to go there.  Don't know how much it's changed since I left, though.  What year is it for you?"

"Sixth year just started – oh, I mean, well, it's 1996."

Jane's eyebrows raised, and Hermione became even more certain that she must have seen her somewhere before.  Perhaps Hermione's face registered recognition, because Jane quickly looked down at her hands.  "1996.  So Hogwarts made it that far."  She played with her fingers, looking thoughtful.

 "How long ago were you – did you go to Hogwarts?"

"A few years back," Jane replied airily.  Then: "What house are you in?  Or have they all merged into one big happy Slytherin?"

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, nothing.  I was just wondering."

"I'm in Gryffindor."

A smile lit up Jane's face.  "Me too!  I mean, I was. – Who's in Gryffindor now?  In your year, of course," she added hastily.

"Well, in my year there's Ron Weasley, Harry Potter, er, Parvati Patil, Lavender Brown, Neville Longbottom…Seamus Finnegan, Dean Thomas – I think that's it.  And me.  Should I go on?"

Jane was staring hard at her hands.  After a pause, she looked up and saw Hermione waiting for a reply.  "Oh!  That's all right, thanks.  Er.  Do you…do you like them?  Those Gryffindors, I mean."

Hermione was taken aback.  "Well, I guess I do…except…."  She grimaced, remembering yesterday's events.  "I don't know if I do now, anymore.  They're all a bit different from me, really…but I suppose I do like them.  I have to, I live with them, don't I?"

"If that's the way you see it," said the ghost, a tad resentfully.  "Any of them your good friends?"

What is she getting at? Hermione wondered briefly before answering.  With some effort, she managed to say, "My best friends are Ron Weasley and Harry Potter."  It was sad to admit it.  Ron and Harry were inseparable, and she felt like she wasn't really best friend to either of them.  Especially after yesterday….

"Could you – could you tell me about them?"

"Why?  Do you know them?"

"Maybe.  Oh, I know I'm asking you a lot of questions.  Do you want a glass of water?  I'll get one, just a minute…"

With that, Jane stood up and walked rather awkwardly out of the room, leaving Hermione to her thoughts.  Jane was quizzing her about her life, or more specifically, what she thought of other people, which meant Hermione knew people that Jane was curious about…was it something to do with Harry Potter again?  Anyway, what kind of a name was "Jane Smith"?  Jane could have made that up on the spur of the moment, but then that meant she hadn't been expecting Hermione…oh, why was she worrying so much?  Wasn't all of this just a dream?

If so, she was dreaming that she was very thirsty…maybe her body had lost moisture when she had been crying and flooding the common room.  Wait!  How on earth was Jane to get a glass of water?  Ghosts didn't drink water!  She was reminded of Nearly Headless Nick's 500th Deathday Party, where rotten food was served so that the ghosts could pretend to taste it.  Ghosts couldn't even touch water, could they?  Or a glass!  But then, they wouldn't be able to hit piano keys either, and Jane looked fairly solid compared to Sir Nick…

It's just a dream, she reminded herself.

When Jane reentered the room, she was carefully holding something that looked very much like a real glass of water.  "It's been a while since I used one of these," said Jane almost apologetically.  "I don't need to drink anymore…I guess I could, but I haven't tried…"

"Thanks," Hermione muttered as she took the glass.  Slowly, she lifted it to her mouth, all the time wondering what it would taste like, whether it might even be poisoned.  Finally she took a sip and started in surprise.  The water was amazing – it quenched her thirst immediately.  Normal water seemed dirty and thin in comparison.  She drank some more eagerly; Jane watched, as if waiting for Hermione's approval.

"It's so clean," Hermione finally said, after downing the whole glass.

"Phew!" breathed Jane, "I have to admit, I was too scared to try it myself."

Hermione stared at her in disbelief.

"You were my guinea pig, I'm afraid."

"Thanks," Hermione said, almost laughing.  "Do you live here by yourself?"

"Pretty much.  It does get kind of lonely around here.  At least I have a piano, and a wand, and some spellbooks to read, but…"  She sighed.  "It's just not the same as being at Hogwarts, you know?"

"Don't start thinking Hogwarts is so great either!" Hermione warned her, suddenly bursting to tell someone what she had been feeling lately.  "Silly girls primping themselves, nobody being quiet in the common room, everyone thinking you're a grind and a know-it-all, even your 'friends,' who don't want to hang out with you anymore – it's enough to drive anyone crazy!" she shouted, violently shaking the empty water-glass in the air.

"Bad day?" asked Jane tentatively.

"I guess," Hermione admitted, looking very much as if she were going to cry again.

"I used to feel like that a lot," said Jane thoughtfully.  "I remember now.  I guess I had some girl friends, but I couldn't really tell them anything, you know?  Their brains worked differently.  When they shopped for pretty things in Hogsmeade I looked for books – I suppose I might have made better friends with guys, except the ones in my year were, to be honest, terrors."  She looked grim.

"Well," said Hermione a little shamefacedly, "I guess I couldn't really call Ron and Harry 'terrors.'"

Jane looked sideways at her.  "What would you call them, then?"

"I don't know.  Boys.  Reckless idiots.  No.  Boys, mainly.  It's just…"  She gritted her teeth.  "It's just that, well, now that Harry's godfather has died" – she thought she saw Jane's hands move – "Harry's always been brooding and he'll only talk to Ron, it's like they don't think I can understand because I'm not male.  So I think, fine, I'll just study while they do that, but then the common room's so noisy, so I go to the library, and when I go back to the dorm for the night I have to endure the other two girls in my year giggling and talking about things I really don't think are important during school, especially – especially not when there's a war going on, I mean, there are brave witches and wizards out there risking their lives, just so that we can continue complaining about our silly little problems?  No, we should be learning as much as we can, in case Hogwarts closes down, or…I don't know…I guess I should calm down."

"I'll get you another glass – oh, well, let's see."  She whipped out a wand, a real, solid wooden wand, and muttered, "Aquaporaro!  Now drink up.  You know, I see what you mean, but maybe if you just tried to understand – that, well, some girls are happier discussing what we'd call silly trivial things, and in the end that's the point of this war, isn't it?  Freedom and happiness for people of all types?"

Hermione put the glass down again and smiled wryly.  "How about me?  How about freedom and happiness for my type?"

"Oh, come off it, don't tell me you're not normally happy.  You're at a great school of wizardry, with teachers who look after you.  And doesn't it make you happy to know that once you graduate, you'll be able to do great work for the wizarding world?  You're the brilliant sort, aren't you?"

"No – well – maybe, a little.  I'd better be, with everyone calling me a know-it-all!"

"Well, at least you know that you have skills which are very much needed, and the drive to develop them.  At least you know that when you die, you'd have done the best you could with your life.  That's a huge comfort."

Hermione looked carefully at Jane, whose eyes were staring into the distance.  She wanted to ask how Jane had died, but thought better of it.  Instead –

"How do you know so much about me?"

Jane looked at her sharply.  "I have my sources," she answered mysteriously, then grinned at Hermione's bewilderment.  "Okay, so I'm not alone all the time.  I do leave the house to visit others" – (Others?) – "but very occasionally, and I'm not used to visitors.  I guess I haven't been very fair to you, since I haven't told you much about myself yet – oh – goodness."

Hermione had just yawned very loudly.  Suddenly she was incredibly sleepy, but she fought to keep her eyes open.

"You look really tired, maybe you'd better rest – I mean, wake up, that is."  The giant silver otter sauntered into the room and up to Jane, to remind them that it was still there.  "Yes, I think you'd better take her back now," she murmured, stroking its fur.  "Goodnight, Hermione Granger – it's been good to meet you at last."

Perhaps Hermione was just dreaming in her dream, but Jane seemed to have gained a tinge of color.

(Edit on 13 September 2003: I corrected the date to make it 1996, instead of 2004 as I originally wrote.)