Chapter 19
Well past midnight, Hermione was woken up the not all-unfamiliar sound of Rebecca speaking in her sleep. Instead of a random word of phrase as per usual, Hermione sat up and listened to her friend.
"Swing. Double. Rat. Dog. Dark. Friend." If Hermione had the ability to look into Rebecca's mind, she would have seen a darkness so black it was nearly liquid with horrible images rising and fading back to nothing randomly.
Rebecca's mind was pushed so far into overdrive she couldn't focus on anything more than the basic shapes of what she saw: Something shining swinging through the air, shadows of two people multiplying, a rat, a dog, and then nothing at all.
Rebecca's voice refused to raise itself more than a harsh whisper, though Ginny was woken by the sound of Rebecca's jerking limbs disturbing things on her bed.
Hermione felt the need to reassure Ginny, especially when the latter turned her worried eyes to Hermione with expectation of an explanation. "I'm not sure what we're supposed to do. I know you aren't to wake a sleepwalker, but...nothing about this." Hermione gestured loosely to Rebecca.
Ginny climbed out of her bed and crawled under Rebecca's blankets, holding her middle firmly.
"I don't think we're supposed to-"
"I can't do nothing." Ginny didn't sound angry, which might have filled Hermione with less anxiety than the worry in her voice did. Ginny fixed the blanket over the two of them and was a little surprised to find Hermione on the other side of Rebecca in minutes.
"We won't do nothing, then."
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"Sleep poorly?" Rebecca asked Ginny when she woke up. Rebecca had spent the minutes Ginny was still asleep to busy her fingers with absently rubbing Ginny's back, wishing away the headache she had woken up with.
Hermione had already woken up and started getting ready for the day, leaving Rebecca to think Ginny had climbed into her bed for reasons unrelated to her.
"What about you, huh? Did you sleep poorly?" Ginny asked, sitting up and looking down at Rebecca with an intensity Rebecca was unready for so early in the day. "You're the one who woke us up flipping around like we needed a priest. What were you even dreaming about?"
Rebecca reached for her glasses and sat up confused. "I don't know. I don't remember anything after going to bed last night. What was I saying?"
Hermione came out of the bathroom ready for the day and answered for Ginny. "Nonsense, like usual."
Ginny understood the message Hermione was sending, just not why. When Rebecca went into the bathroom to get dressed, Ginny took the opportunity to ask. "Why aren't we telling her?"
"First year. Ours, not yours. We had that detention in the Forbidden Forest, remember?"
Ginny nodded, remembering the chaos the Burrow had been plunged into when Molly and Arthur received the letter about what had happened.
Hermione continued after she could tell that Ginny knew what she was talking about. "Those that were with her that night said that she'd mentioned something about 'dreaming the path.' If this is another one of those dreams and she doesn't remember, it's probably for the best."
Ginny felt a shiver creep across the back of her neck. "Were you there when she did it?"
Hermione looked into Ginny's eyes and was thankful that Rebecca remained in the bathroom. "No. I was in the other group and from what George, and Ron told us...we were the lucky ones." Hermione left Ginny to tell Rebecca that she would meet them both downstairs before heading to breakfast under the guise of needing to post an owl.
Rebecca, dressed for the day and confused as to why Ginny was staring at her as she was, felt like there was something being hidden from her. "Is something wrong?"
"No."
"Where'd Hermione go?"
Ginny looked to the door. "Said she had to post a letter, that she'd meet you at breakfast."
"Okay..." Rebecca put her bag on and found that she hadn't swapped the books and, for the time being, would need a few minutes before she could go find the others.
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Hermione, much to the surprise of both herself and her roommates if they had known, had lied to them. She could stand to have posted a letter back to her parents, but that wasn't why she had left before them that morning. Harry and Ron, both two of the few who knew the events that had transpired in the Forbidden Forest, needed to know what was going on in case they were related.
"Good morning, Hermione." Harry nudged Ron awake as Hermione looked over her shoulder to make sure they had privacy. "Something wrong?"
"You remember the forest, right?"
Ron leaned closer. "One in particular or-" Harry elbowed him, hard. Ron scowled and answered more seriously. "Yeah, we remember. Not likely to forget either."
"Ron, you said that Rebecca had said she'd 'dreamt this before.' What did she mean by that?"
Ron took the defensive, feeling that Hermione was insinuating he hadn't listened that night or hadn't paid attention. "There wasn't time for tea and a chat after, now was there!"
Harry shushed him and looked over the common room to make sure none of the other early-risers were looking their direction at his volume. "Why are you bringing this up? Is she okay?"
Ron hadn't considered this as an option and dropped his scowl immediately for concern.
"She's fine." Hermione started bouncing her foot, a finger tapping the armrest of her chair as her thoughts jumped from idea to idea. "I don't know what's going on, not exactly. It could be nothing."
"What could be nothing?" Ron leaned forward so his elbows were on his knees, listening with absolute attention.
"She was talking in her sleep again. It was different than any other time--She repeated a few words, reciting them really."
"What were they?" Harry asked, wondering if they would have any meaning to him.
"'Swing, double, rat, dog, dark, and friend.' Does any of that mean anything to the two of you?"
Ron answered while Harry ran through the words carefully. "Unless the rat means Scabbers--who is missing again--but you wouldn't know anything about that would you, Hermione?"
Harry rolled his eyes and looked to Hermione the same way Rebecca did sometimes--the way that scared Hermione a little--as if she had the answers to everything in the world. "Are you worried, Hermione?"
Hermione took a moment to word herself carefully. "If it were...a premonition of sorts, the words would only mean something to her, right? But if she didn't remember it, she can't know what to figure out?"
Harry nodded, taking the answer as all he would get. "What about-"
"Later." Hermione cut him off as the voices of Ginny and Rebecca could be heard coming down the stairs above them. "We'll have to find time to talk more later."
Hermione joined them quickly while Ron and Harry lingered at Ron's insistence. "Don't let it get to you, alright mate? It's probably just stress. Those two have been working too hard on the trial, and then she's got quidditch and a swot for a roomie. All this not sleeping's just having its effect on them. Plus, Buckbeak's trial is today." The mood between the boys grew more somber as the fact was said aloud.
Harry agreed that that could be an explanation, though he didn't expect Ron's follow up statement.
"That's why Hermione's extra-looney lately!"
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Rebecca had already asked Harry why he was staring at her twice, but he continued and she had to choose between letting it go or starting a row. And, since they were in the middle of Transfiguration, she felt letting it go was the better choice.
Harry studied her as she doodled, her quill scratching at one of the drawings only she would ever see and only she would be able to tell what it was. She seemed normal, she acted like she usually did. Harry wanted to believe that maybe it really had just been a dream, but the more he considered the idea and the more he tried to convince himself of it, the more untrue it felt.
Professor McGonagall turned the teapot she was using as a demonstration later into a toucan that squawked loudly until she had the attention of the wandering class. "May I remind you all that examinations are in less than six weeks? The ability to turn household ware into wildlife does not come instantaneously!"
She abandoned instruction for the day and told them to turn in their books to the chapter and complete the exercise at the end. "I suggest you show a sliver of progress before class is over, you are not excused until you do so." Teapots of their own were conjured to each of their desks and McGonagall walked around the class slowly.
Rebecca picked up her wand and idly spun it as she turned in her book, skipping through the chapter and going straight to the assignment. "Harry?"
Harry looked up from the first page. "What?"
She tapped at the exercise and spoke softly, "What does a snail look like?"
Ron turned around from in front of them, stunned. "What do you mean 'what does a snail look like?' It looks like a snail!"
Rebecca bit back, embarrassed that he'd heard her. "Sorry Ronald, guess I forgot you're a bloody zoologist!"
Harry tried to stifle his laughter at the two of them. "It's like a slug...but not."
Hermione turned around and answered them so that the three of them didn't bring a scolding from McGonagall. "Imagine a slug that's wearing a shell. That's a snail."
"Thank you, Hermione." Rebecca gave Ron a look. "What a kind and helpful answer!" Rebecca read the incantation one more time before tapping her wand to her teapot and imagining a slug wearing a shell.
"Mutatio corporis!"
The first attempt at a new spell attracted the eyes of the students around her and, at their bursting into laughter, the attention of Professor McGonagall soon followed.
"What is going on over here?" She demanded. McGonagall had to hide her own amusement. Rebecca had transfigured a slug wearing a shell, but the shell was one you could find on a beach and the slug wore it on it's head...as one wears a cap. "Miss Potter, are you aware of the anatomy of a snail?"
Rebecca frowned. "Isn't this a snail, professor?" McGonagall tapped her wand to the creature and turned it into a proper snail. "Oh."
"Yes, 'oh.' As for the rest of you, where are you tries? That's what I thought!"
Rebecca used her wand to turn the snail in front of her, looking at it from all angles and memorising it before turning it back into a teapot and trying again.
The classroom was like it's own ocean, the beginning-to-mature voices washing on McGonagall's ears like the tides. By the end of the hour, all but Crabbe had managed a snail and only he and Draco remained as the latter attempted to guide the first into a passable try.
Hermione excused herself on their way to charms, asking Rebecca to save her a seat. Passing the task onto Harry and Ron, Rebecca busied away the minutes between their arrival and class starting by talking to Professor Flitwick about the reading from the night before.
Returning to her table and finding her partner still gone, Rebecca looked to the boys confused. "Hermione's not back yet?"
"Probably lost in a book somewhere. Why worry when there's no reason to?" Ron snarked.
Rebecca scoffed and opened her mouth to say something particularly lethal in response when Harry held his hands up between them. "Come now, children. No need to bicker."
"Quite right, Mr Potter!" Professor Flitwick laughed a little. "Why bicker when we can learn! Look to the board, everybody..." Climbing the stairs to his elevated teaching platform, Charms began.
Without Hermione.
Rebecca alternated between taking her notes and taking glances at the door that never opened. Worry plagued her as to what could keep their most studious friend from studies. Harry, while also worried, couldn't let it consume as wholly as his identical--Charms was never his strong suit and while his charmed 'impermeable' feathers ignited everytime in a very un-impermeable fashion.
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"The two tallest towers in this bloody castle and we have to climb them both." Ron muttered as they reached the top of the Divination tower. Entering the room, they found no trace of Hermione either.
"Maybe she broke bad and we'll see her at supper dining with the Slytherins." Ron theorised, though even he was starting to get concerned. "We'll swing by the infirmary once we're done here though, just to be sure."
They gave up all pretense of conversation as the beginning of Divination crept closer and closer, finding that each person who came through the door was not Hermione until the last minute before class began when they all let a breath of relief out.
Hermione sat down quickly across from Rebecca and Rebecca noted that one of her cheeks was bright red, almost as if she'd fallen asleep on it. "Where were you during Charms? I saved you a spot."
Hermione looked at her watch. "Charms. I missed Charms." Her voice was soft, hurt. For a moment at least. "I missed a class." Hermione looked at Rebecca the angriest she had ever been, her hands grabbing the table tightly.
"Hello class! It's-"
"No!" Hermione stood and shouldered her bag roughly. "No, it's not going to be a good day! Not when th-this class continues to take our energies away from classes that matter!" Hermione's knuckles turned white around her book and Rebecca thought for a second she might actually throw it. But, not wanting to hurt a book, Hermione pushed her chair in so that it slammed against she and Rebecca's table and left the room without another word.
Ron and Harry looked at Rebecca with equally wide eyes while Professor Trelawney cleared her throat, a hint of smugness sneaking into her tone as the class began once more. "I did say at the beginning of the year that one of our own would leave us, didn't I?"
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Rebecca sent the boys ahead off to lunch, asking them to bring something for her to Defense Against the Dark Arts if she never showed.
"Where're you going?" Harry called after her.
"To make sure she's alright!" Rebecca called back, turning the corner without looking and slamming into someone.
"How many times do I have to tell you to watch where you're going?" Draco's tone lacked its usual ferocity, giving way to tiredness.
"Apparently one more time. I'm sorry." Rebecca fixed her rumbled robes and continue on her way, stopped only by a sheepish Draco.
"Is Granger alright?"
Rebecca tilted her head slightly, seeing Draco differently. "I'll tell her you were thinking-"
"Don't." Draco sighed and rolled his eyes. "Never mind."
Rebecca grinned, teasing him. "Alright, you're secret's safe with me. No one will ever know you can be decent."
Draco watched her go, smiling as he thought over what she'd said to him.
Rebecca had planned on going to their dorm, thinking that's where Hermione would have gone after such an outburst. But, seeing the familiar figure of her friend stepping into the Transfiguration classroom, Rebecca lingered underneath the window despite the guilt she knew she was accruing by such a violation.
"And you are aware of the ramifications of dropping a class so late in the year?"
"Yes, professor. I understand."
"Then it is done." A silence followed. "Is there anything else?"
"Professor, I have a question."
McGonagall sighed. "What other school rules shall we be bending this afternoon?"
Rebecca could imagine the wince Hermione would have suffered with at such a chiding tone from their head of house. "It's more of an enquiry, really. I tried looking in the library for more information and I couldn't find anything."
"Go ahead."
"I was looking for texts about subconscious premonitions."
McGonagall's chair squeaked and Rebecca could practically see her leaning forward in her seat. "To whom are you enquiring for?"
Hermione felt every fibre in her being shudder as she lied. "It's not for anyone, it was just a theory I'd had and then found nothing on the subject."
"That's probably for the best. Premonitions are hard to interpret when summoned consciously, not to mention extremely rare and seen by few. Subconscious...Premonitions of the sleep are even more rare and nearly impossible to be interpreted by anyone other than the receiver. I hope that adequately answers your enquiry.
Even out in the hall, Rebecca could feel the weight of the gave McGonagall levelled onto Hermione at knowing the half-truth that had been given. Hermione thanked her and Rebecca moved to the farther window, so that she would be able to step out of view in time.
Professor McGonagall had to say something more, if only to alleviate herself of future guilt. "Miss Granger?" Hermione stopped at the door and turned back. "As for your enquiry...I trust you have the sense to involve an adult if necessary."
Hermione nodded. "Yes, professor." Rebecca peeked around the corner just in time to see Hermione disappearing off in the direction of the library.
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Rebecca took her time on her way back to the Great Hall, wondering over the possible explanations for Hermione's strange behaviour and the 'subconscious premonitions' she had asked Professor McGonagall about. Nothing about any of it made sense, especially when she factored in the missing Charms and Divination freak out and before she had even made it to lunch, Rebecca had thought herself straight into the headache she'd been narrowly avoiding since she woke up.
Forgoing her usual spot between Fred and George as it was regularly shouted over, Rebecca slid next to Harry quietly.
"Hey, you." Fred set the sandwich he had already wrapped and prepared to take to her next class for her on her plate. "No luck?" He and George had already been filled in as to what happened the class before.
"No." Rebecca sighed. "No Hermione."
Fred looked her over and felt that the answer was off. "Is that all or is something bothering you?"
Rebecca shrugged.
"You don't have to tell me," Fred lowered his voice so the conversation going on between the others was louder and covered theirs. "But, problems are easier to solve with more heads thinking about it."
Rebecca took a bite of her sandwich. "My head hurts a bit."
Fred thought about that for a moment. "Have you gone to Madam Pomfrey?"
"It's just tension. Not even magic can get rid of stress." Rebecca looked down the table where Ron picked up on the end of their chat.
"Yeah, mum tried once but what do you know? We still have Fred and George!"
George did not take the offense lightly, instead, he took the carrot he'd been eating away from his mouth and beat Ron around the head with it. When he was done, George grinned. "Mum says there's nothing a cup of tea can't fix."
Fred nodded, relieved. He could pour a cup of tea, after all. He could pour a thousand cups of tea if he needed. Sliding it in front of Rebecca, he smiled as she held her hands to the sides. "Cold?"
Rebecca pulled her robe sleeves up, revealing the jumper Molly had made underneath. "Just my hands."
Fred looked down the table and cupped his hands around hers without looking, ensuring that not only no one else noticed but also that no one could connect the reddening of his face with his actions. "Are you ready for tonight?" He asked when he turned to face her again, his hands staying where they were.
Rebecca shook her head. "His trial's the last for the day but shouldn't go into the night."
"No, no. Practise." Fred shuddered. "You're lucky you didn't hear Oliver's plans. It's not going to be pretty."
"Brilliant." Rebecca couldn't worry about the impending exhaustion from a grueling practise immediately. Not when Fred held his hands around hers a little tighter at her defeated tone.
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Hermione joined them towards the end of lunch and, upon her sitting across from him, Ron decided to see how they were handling what had happened. "Don't yell at me!" He cried out, raising his hands.
Hermione froze, as did Harry and Rebecca. They all were nearly convinced that this would send everything right back into the dreary sludge it had been in before when, to their surprise, Hermione began to laugh and was unable to stop for quite a while once she'd started.
Ron turned the conversation to the latest Potions assignment, knowing that Hermione would appreciate the conversation as she ate her quickly-pieced together lunch. None of them wanted to be late when they were finishing a unit in Defense Against the Dark Arts. "I'm quite excited for our next section: aquatic defense! We should learn about more of the species that live in the Black Lake!"
Rebecca frowned. "Yay. Water monsters. Should be great."
While Rebecca was thankful at the extension of the next unit, she was horrified to find Professor Snape in the Defense classroom scowling down at them like they were in the dungeons. "Professor Lupin," He seemed unable to help sneering everytime he said Lupin's name. "Has fallen ill and is incapable of teaching at the moment."
He waited for the rest of the students to file into their spots, staring as Rebecca and Harry sat next to one another as if it were a personal affront. "Turn to page three hundred and ninety-four. I want an-Yes?"
Hermione lowered her hand at being acknowledged and tried to explain. "Sir, we're not into four-footed mammalians of the night yet. We're almost done with forest fliers unit."
Snape slammed his hands on Lupin's desk, glaring out at them all. "I want a full scroll essay on the various ways to kill a lycanthrope, as outlined beginning at page three hundred and ninety-four."
The class beginning its work, Snape walked to Hermione's desk and lorded himself over her. "Miss Granger, when I want your advice, I will ask for it. Until then, do the work as assigned without speaking."
He sulked back to his desk and tossed, "Five points from Gryffindor." Over his shoulder.
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Harry reached a sore arm up to his forehead and wiped away the sweat that had already collected again to try and save his already smarting eyes. "And George thought that a seeker would have easier training!" He thought bitterly as he launched into another series of full-speed climbs and dives as Oliver shouted at him from the middle.
"Faster, Harry! Don't you want to win?"
Harry leaned lower on his broom, pushing it to its limit.
Rebecca was in a similar state of effort. Oliver had Katie, Angelina, and herself on three different teams trying to steal the quaffle from each other. Whoever scored got to yell at Oliver. Angelina scored for the umpteenth time and asked what they were all thinking. "IT'S DARK, OLIVER! ARE WE PRACTISING UNTIL DAWN?!"
Oliver tilted his head like he was considering it before blowing the whistle around his neck and waving them to join him in the middle. "Alright team, you all did an okay job tonight. I want to see some effort tomorrow, okay? Hit the showers and get some rest."
The team was gone as quickly as they could, the showers running only seconds later. Rebecca and Harry showered as quickly as they could in their already-starting-to-grow-sore bodies, wanting to get to the common room. Hermione and Ron both said they'd sit up and wait for Hagrid to write with the results of the trial.
"Harry?" Rebecca called from the center of the locker room.
He stumbled out from the showers, his shirt untucked and his hair as messy and dripping as Rebecca's was. "I'm here. Fred and George said go up ahead, they're right behind us."
The two of them hurried out of the room, slipping only slightly in their wet-bottomed shoes. Righting themselves and running down the corridor and starting to climb the many stairs, Rebecca cursed when the stair only two away from their hall changed to an opposite destination.
"This way!" Harry insisted, expertly weaving through the Ravenclaw corridors to another stairwell that put them back on course. Rebecca didn't know when he'd spent so much time over here, but shoved her curiosity away as they found Hermione and Ron waiting for them outside the common room.
Hermione was at one of the tall windows of Gryffindor Tower, a letter in one hand and the other quickly brushing away the tears immediately replaced as she gave it to Harry to read. Rebecca opened her arms for Hermione and held the back of her head gently as Hermione let herself cry. "They didn't care. All that work, all that evidence...it didn't matter. They decided before the trial even began."
Rebecca held Hermione at arm's length, speaking loud enough for Harry and Ron to hear her from where they were to the side. "We have the right to an appeal. We'll make the next case even stronger!"
Hermione shook her head. "How? We've read every scrap of information we could! If a testimony from a bloody sanctuary didn't work, what will? What are we supposed to do?" Hermione's voice broke as she lost her anger. "Rebecca, we failed him." Hermione put her head back against Rebecca's shoulder.
"Then we'll get another letter." Harry said, nodding once to Rebecca who couldn't be the only one to say they could keep going. "And we'll find more books, more information, more cases. Fail? We're not done yet. No one's failed anything."
Ron grabbed Harry's shoulder, nodding in agreement. "And we don't fail, anyway."
Fred and George ran up behind them, cursing obstinate stairs. They say the damp eyes of the fourth years and feared the worst.
"It's not good?" Fred asked, taking Rebecca's side as Hermione stood on her own.
"Not quite." Hermione sniffed.
George asked for the letter from Harry and walked beside Hermione as they climbed the stairs to the portrait hole, asking questions about a few of the legal terms he didn't understand and waiting for her to explain it. Ron and Harry followed behind them, talking amongst themselves about what their next steps could be.
Rebecca had taken the exact position Hermione had been in when they'd found her, turned towards the tall windows.
"What about you?" Fred asked quietly. "Are you okay?"
Rebecca shrugged, not looking at him. "We'll just try again. Make a stronger case, find a new angle."
Fred was quiet a moment. "They're gone, you know. I don't need to see this strong, nothing-ever-gets-me-down character you put on. I'm asking about you."
Rebecca tried to swallow the lump that warned of imminent tears, but it was too hard when he had to say it like that. She'd never wanted to not cry more, yet the tears came all the same.
Fred closed the distance between them and wrapped his arms around her tightly, feeling that while necessary, he still shouldn't push her. He had to though, had to remind her that there was someone who only wanted her to be as she was and not someone else.
"I'm angry." Rebecca managed, melting against him as she let it go. "I'm so angry, Fred. That case showed that Buckbeak wasn't a danger, that instructions weren't followed and he was at no fault." She took a shaky breath, listening to his heartbeat and focusing on how his hand was rubbing her back. "But it didn't matter because they'd already decided a-and I'm so angry because their decision is to end a life! A living, breathing creature that didn't do anything wrong--And we failed to save him from that!"
Fred laid his cheek against the top of her head, his tears hidden in the remaining drops from her shower. "And you have every reason to be angry. There was no justice in this trial." Rebecca cried harder as her feelings were heard and justified, something that hadn't ever happened for her in times of crises before. "But you have to hold onto that anger. Every time we work on the case, you have to bring the anger back to keep you going. It has to let you know why we're doing this."
Fred kissed the top of her head before standing at her side and turning his attention to the stars, too. "This trial didn't fail, anyway. It'll help us make the next one even stronger."
"You and George will still help?" Rebecca asked, happy he left his arm around her shoulders.
"Our services are entirely at your disposal."
Rebecca wiped at her cheeks with her free hand. "Our lives would be much simpler if we could take out Lucius Malfoy."
"For dinner or a movie?" Fred teased, finding comfort in how easy it was with her despite the circumstances.
She looked up at him. "Are there magic hitmen?"
Fred turned the two of them back to the stairs that would take them to the common room, walking slowly. He liked her like this, wedged solidly under his arm with her arm around his middle--the way they'd grown accustomed to walking when no one else was around. "Moving onto a more realistic and definitely more legal plan, what about..."
They strategized as the Fat Lady smiled at their positions, they strategized on the chairs by the fire, and they strategized until the clock struck one and they could hardly keep their eyes open a second longer.
But it was worth it--They had an idea.
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