Categories > Books > Harry Potter > Shadowlands
Chapter 4: Hermione's dream
Harry enters Hermione's dreams for the first time. Song text copyright of "Queens of the Stone Age".
?Blocked
Chapter 4: Hermione's Dream
I blinked with my eyes several times to give them a chance to get used to darkness. Then, I understood something. It was not simply dark in this world. This world was completely empty, void, colourless. There were no colours, sounds, smells, there was nothing in my Hermione's dreams. I guessed it must have been her dreams; in the distance I could clearly hear an infant's steady, deep breathing and I realized it was Lily. The very first physical evidence of my tiny little girl.
I saw a faint light in the distance and I took off with steady steps towards that direction. After a good five minutes' walk I arrived at a familiar place. It was the graveyard of Godric's Hollow, lit dimly by the candlelight, filtering through the windows of the small church just a mere few steps behind. My legs, unknowingly, took me to the grave where my parents were buried, the grave Hermione and I had visited on Christmas eve, in our seventh year.
There she was, kneeling in the dirty snow, sobbing against a newly placed headstone. Carved in beautiful letters, it read:
“Here lies
Harry James Potter
Wizarding Hero
Loving and beloved husband and father
1980-2001”
Under the text, in the middle of the stone, I was surprised to find my very own picture, taken in second year, with the Quidditch cup in my hands.
Hermione, still hiccuping, slowly composed herself, gently caressing the photo with featherlight touches. Then, she started speaking, in a low, but steady voice.
“I haven't been here for quite a while, Harry, since Lily was born. Nothing changes in this oasis of eternal peace. Only, there's a headstone, which shouldn't be here. You shouldn't have died, Harry. I know it's my fault and I never deserved you, but you shouldn't be dead. You deserved some happiness after all that pain and misery you'd been suffering from throughout your short life and I took it all away from you, only because I was too weak.”
“That's not true, Hermione,” I answered firmly, kneeling besides her, looking deep into her eyes. “You shouldn't be punishing yourself for things you hadn't done. It was completely my fault, not yours. I was too weak, and ran away from life.”
“Harry, is this you?” She looked at me in mere disbelief, with her eyes wide, then shook her head, as if trying to get rid of a bad thought or memory. “But you...you are dead! You are buried in this very place, under this very headstone! How can you be here now, with me?” she demanded. For her rational mind this must have been a shock, I guessed, so I wanted to provide her an easily understandable explanation .
“Technically speaking, I've been stripped of my soul. And as my body couldn't exist without my soul, it ceased its existence as well. So, for your world, I'm dead, yes,” I tried to get straight to the point, the simple truth; which, no matter how simple it was, took me months to understand and accept. I couldn't have expected her to understand it in minutes, yet, I had to try.
“But...but I'm sleeping now, I must be dreaming all this. Am I dreaming of you, of us, or is it only some cruel joke someone's playing at me?” she questioned me further, with her eyebrows slightly raised and a hysterical undertone in her voice.
“Not really, my dear. You are sleeping right now, but you are not exactly dreaming all this. It is I who came to visit you in your dream tonight, so physically I'm in the realm of your dreams instead of your thoughts,” I smiled at her and slowly, extended my hands towards her. She took my hands and stared at them, still in disbelief. Then, as I pulled her up from the wet snow, she tackled me in a fierce hug and our lips united in a thirsty kiss, for the first time since that fateful day.
“Come with me, there are things I want to tell you,” I invited her, smiling through my happy tears. We headed towards my old home where my parents were killed on that Halloween night. On the Dreamscape the manor was intact, most probably because I used to have dreamed about it that way; a beautiful, nineteenth century house, with a magnificent iron gate. The corridor, the kitchen, the rooms, all seemed clean and inhabited, as if the owners went for an evening stroll in the moonlight.
Having set a pot of tea, pouring some of the steaming liquid in two mugs and grabbing a box of biscuits, we made our way towards the living room and sat comfortably on the thick Persian rug in front of the fireplace, watching the flickering flames for a while.
“There are three parallel worlds existing around us, Hermione. The world of the living, where you exist, the Shadowlands, where I live and the Dreamscape, where we are now,” I started my story. “We, the dead, can visit the real world, but can't interact with the living. When you were at St. Mungo's today...”
“Wait a minute!” Hermione put down her mug and looked seriously in my eyes. “How on Merlin's saggy pants do you know that?”
“I've been there as well. You were sitting at a bench, seemingly unoccupied, cast some privacy charms around you and nursed Lily from your left breast. There's a small scar on your right nipple, most probably caused by Lily's first tooth,” I tried to give as many details as possible; I wanted her to believe me, for God's sake!
Shaking her head, she slapped me on my shoulder. “Peeking, are we?” she laughed, and I saw her features relaxed a little.
“Well,” I started to build up my defense, “I was sitting besides you, so I had a really good view of everything...”
“Pig!” she snorted, desperately trying to look hurt, but at the end she gave in, and she started to laugh open-heartedly, for the first time in so many months. I took her in my arms and hugged her to myself. It was such a wonderful feeling!
“I've been visiting you almost every night since I died, just to see how you and Lily are doing,” I admitted in a serious voice. “And tonight, for the very first time ever, I was able to visit you in your dreams. Next time you see Luna, give my regards and thanks to her.”
“Luna? As in Lovegood?” she asked in disbelief.
“As in Mrs. Ronald Weasley, love,” I corrected her, almost automatically. “You know Luna's always been … odd, to say the least, at least to our understanding. Well, she's one of the few living people who can freely roam both the Shadowlands and the Dreamscape. We have been seeing each other...” here I stopped; I hoped she'd not realized this slip of my tongue. I knew she was not prepared for learning that her deceased husband was seeing, in fact, dating, and to be absolutely correct, having magnificent sex with her friend who is very much alive and kicking. Bloody hell, I was confused, just imagine how much confused she must have been!
“Luna and I have been talking a lot, ever since I died,” I corrected myself. “She explained things I should know about the Shadowlands. Mum and Dad and Sirius and … well, the whole gang, they like her a lot.”
“Fred, Moody, Remus, Tonks,” she started to enumerate on her fingers.
“Dumbledore, Severus, yes, everybody we knew. Strange, but Severus himself is of very high opinion of Luna. Maybe because of the fact that he's dating Aranrhod, Luna's Mum. They were in the same year, only in different Houses, ” I nodded.
Hermione had to laugh at the mere idea of Snape dating somebody but suddenly went silent. “Harry, do V....Voldemort and the dead Death Eaters also live in the Shadowlands?” she shrugged in my arms. A brave girl as she'd always been, pronouncing this name was already enough to send unpleasant shivers down her spine.
“Yes, they do. Although, unlike us, the Death Eaters had been stripped of their magic by Merlin himself when they died. Voldemort's just Tom Riddle now, as he always has been, and for all his crimes the Wizengamot sentenced him to public services for an indefinite and endless amount of time. Now he works in St. Mungo's, trying to soothe the pain of those who'd suffered because of him.”
“Voldemort in St. Mungo's? No way, you are kidding,” she laughed, but seeing my serious face, she gulped.
“No, Hermione, I'm far from kidding. See this as Tom's personal variant to Purgatory,” I assured and hugged her to myself, to ease her discomfort and – I had to admit – to extend the sensation of being able to feel her just a little bit more. “Besides, I'm now Head of the Magical Law Enforcement Department and I do check on him every now and then, just for the sake of fun. I need to admit that I love to watch the expression on old Snake Head's face when I pop up behind him, completely unexpectedly.”
“Tonight Luna visited me in the Shadowlands and taught me an incantation, which lets me enter your dreams. This is how I found you, this is how we can talk, touch, kiss, feel each other,” I ended my story, and looked expectantly into her eyes. For a sign that she'd understood what I meant to bring to her.
Still shaking her head, she downed her tea, and without saying a word summoned the pot from the kitchen for a refill.
“I know, it all sounds weird, love, but you have to believe it. There are many things out there what you can't find in your favourite books. For example...this...” I placed my hand under her chin, gently lifted her head and, mesmerized by the fire in her beautiful brown eyes, kissed her, deeply and lovingly, as we used to kiss when we still were together. She hungrily answered the kiss, opening her mouth to allow my probing tongue in. It didn't take too long to tear all our clothes off, and in my last consistent thought I found us completely naked, her fragile body pinned under me and every square inch of her velvety skin covered with me.
“I can't believe I've just made love to my dead husband,” joked Hermione, snuggling up in my arms as we slowly came to breath, while I was gently tracing the contours of her curves with my fingers.
“I'm glad you've used the word 'making love' instead of 'having sex' or 'shagging', love,” I admitted as I wrapped my arms around her and inhaled the sweet scent of her hair I loved so much.
“It was definitely 'making love', my dear Harry. Just like our first time together, the day after the Battle. We have almost surpassed ourselves, “ Hermione blushed. “Only, by now we have learned what pleases the other most. I still do hope it won't qualify for necrophilia, will it?” She shrugged at the thought first, but then emitted a nervous laugh, seeing the disbelief on my face.
“Believe me, love, I'm not less confused than you are right now as this whole Dreamscape thing is pretty much new to me, but I guess what we've just done does qualify for a wonderful dream for you and me both,” I laughed, while thousands of emotions were running through my head. What a stupid idiot I had been, throwing all this away! How I wished this hadn't been a dream! How I wished I could get a second chance!
Nodding vehemently, she agreed in a husky voice, “Oh yes, definitely a wonderful dream, and I'm all in for a repetition.”
“Easy, woman, I'm dead, forgot?” I poke her in the ribs, causing her giggle. Usually, I was easy on her and didn't take advantage of her weak spot; she couldn't handle tickling very well. Now, I let a predator's smile form on my face as I slowly drew nearer.
“No, Harry, don't even try...you hear me? Let...me...go!” She laughed, cried, begged as her lungs were fighting her uncontrollable laughter, desperately trying to expand and breathe in some air. Suddenly, I felt being hit with a curse of some kind and before I knew, I couldn't move any more. Of course, a Full Body-Bind. I knew the effects of this curse ruddy well from my encounters with Malfoy. One of her hands must have skipped my attention; she managed to grab her wand and now it was too late. Now I would have to pay.
Now she was wearing the same smile as she replaced her wand where she'd taken it from, biting her lower lip, then slowly licking it; a small gesture that always made me crazy.
“You've taken advantage of me when I was defenseless, /Potter,/” she started in a mocking sweet voice, while she was weighing the situation. Hell, I got scared. I knew she was capable of things and she knew I was afraid of tickles as well. But my fear was quickly dissolved as she slowly, very slowly and teasingly, positioned herself above me, letting my eyes freely drink her beauty.
“Now, I'm going to take advantage of you, and I'm going to do it right,” she warned in a serious voice and the events which followed proved again that she'd always been a “man” of her words.
We both were woken by the sound of someone crying. She stirred first and yawned.
“Lily's awake, love. I've got to change and feed her. I have to wake up from this dream even if I completely distaste the mere thought of it. I'm so glad I found you again, but I have to go now,” she cast an apologetic look at me.
“I love you, Hermione, I always have. I will come to see you again very soon. Good night, sweetheart!” I kissed her one last time.
“I love you too, Harry, and I will be looking forward to it. Will you stay here with us for a while, until we fall asleep again?” she asked, with a slight undertone of hope in her sweet voice.
“If you don't mind me peeking around...” I winked at her and, drawing an intricate pattern with my wand, muttered “/Finite”/, emerging to the Shadowlands just an eon later.
I watched her as she still shaking her head waved towards the spot I'd just vacated and then, with a content smile on her face, quickly changed the very much awake and very much protesting Lily, who was obviously not used to being kept for so long.
I watched her as she, very much alike the Madonna on the Muggle paintings, nursed our daughter, singing a song I didn't recognize in a hushed voice. A song, which - I understood that - was meant to be sung to me, was meant to be heard by me. A song, which crawled deep under my skin and touched me deep in my heart. A love song, a love lullaby. A loving lament for her deceased husband.
“Where, oh where have you been, my love?
Where, oh where can you be?
It's been so long, since the moon has gone
And oh what a wreck you've made me
Are you there, over the oceans?
Are you there, up in the sky?
Until the return of my love
This lullaby
My hope is on the horizon
Every face, your eyes I can see
I plead and pray though each night and day
Our embrace is only a dream
And as sure as days come from moments
Each hour becomes a life's time
When he'd left, I'd only begun
This lullaby”
I blinked with my eyes several times to give them a chance to get used to darkness. Then, I understood something. It was not simply dark in this world. This world was completely empty, void, colourless. There were no colours, sounds, smells, there was nothing in my Hermione's dreams. I guessed it must have been her dreams; in the distance I could clearly hear an infant's steady, deep breathing and I realized it was Lily. The very first physical evidence of my tiny little girl.
I saw a faint light in the distance and I took off with steady steps towards that direction. After a good five minutes' walk I arrived at a familiar place. It was the graveyard of Godric's Hollow, lit dimly by the candlelight, filtering through the windows of the small church just a mere few steps behind. My legs, unknowingly, took me to the grave where my parents were buried, the grave Hermione and I had visited on Christmas eve, in our seventh year.
There she was, kneeling in the dirty snow, sobbing against a newly placed headstone. Carved in beautiful letters, it read:
“Here lies
Harry James Potter
Wizarding Hero
Loving and beloved husband and father
1980-2001”
Under the text, in the middle of the stone, I was surprised to find my very own picture, taken in second year, with the Quidditch cup in my hands.
Hermione, still hiccuping, slowly composed herself, gently caressing the photo with featherlight touches. Then, she started speaking, in a low, but steady voice.
“I haven't been here for quite a while, Harry, since Lily was born. Nothing changes in this oasis of eternal peace. Only, there's a headstone, which shouldn't be here. You shouldn't have died, Harry. I know it's my fault and I never deserved you, but you shouldn't be dead. You deserved some happiness after all that pain and misery you'd been suffering from throughout your short life and I took it all away from you, only because I was too weak.”
“That's not true, Hermione,” I answered firmly, kneeling besides her, looking deep into her eyes. “You shouldn't be punishing yourself for things you hadn't done. It was completely my fault, not yours. I was too weak, and ran away from life.”
“Harry, is this you?” She looked at me in mere disbelief, with her eyes wide, then shook her head, as if trying to get rid of a bad thought or memory. “But you...you are dead! You are buried in this very place, under this very headstone! How can you be here now, with me?” she demanded. For her rational mind this must have been a shock, I guessed, so I wanted to provide her an easily understandable explanation .
“Technically speaking, I've been stripped of my soul. And as my body couldn't exist without my soul, it ceased its existence as well. So, for your world, I'm dead, yes,” I tried to get straight to the point, the simple truth; which, no matter how simple it was, took me months to understand and accept. I couldn't have expected her to understand it in minutes, yet, I had to try.
“But...but I'm sleeping now, I must be dreaming all this. Am I dreaming of you, of us, or is it only some cruel joke someone's playing at me?” she questioned me further, with her eyebrows slightly raised and a hysterical undertone in her voice.
“Not really, my dear. You are sleeping right now, but you are not exactly dreaming all this. It is I who came to visit you in your dream tonight, so physically I'm in the realm of your dreams instead of your thoughts,” I smiled at her and slowly, extended my hands towards her. She took my hands and stared at them, still in disbelief. Then, as I pulled her up from the wet snow, she tackled me in a fierce hug and our lips united in a thirsty kiss, for the first time since that fateful day.
“Come with me, there are things I want to tell you,” I invited her, smiling through my happy tears. We headed towards my old home where my parents were killed on that Halloween night. On the Dreamscape the manor was intact, most probably because I used to have dreamed about it that way; a beautiful, nineteenth century house, with a magnificent iron gate. The corridor, the kitchen, the rooms, all seemed clean and inhabited, as if the owners went for an evening stroll in the moonlight.
Having set a pot of tea, pouring some of the steaming liquid in two mugs and grabbing a box of biscuits, we made our way towards the living room and sat comfortably on the thick Persian rug in front of the fireplace, watching the flickering flames for a while.
“There are three parallel worlds existing around us, Hermione. The world of the living, where you exist, the Shadowlands, where I live and the Dreamscape, where we are now,” I started my story. “We, the dead, can visit the real world, but can't interact with the living. When you were at St. Mungo's today...”
“Wait a minute!” Hermione put down her mug and looked seriously in my eyes. “How on Merlin's saggy pants do you know that?”
“I've been there as well. You were sitting at a bench, seemingly unoccupied, cast some privacy charms around you and nursed Lily from your left breast. There's a small scar on your right nipple, most probably caused by Lily's first tooth,” I tried to give as many details as possible; I wanted her to believe me, for God's sake!
Shaking her head, she slapped me on my shoulder. “Peeking, are we?” she laughed, and I saw her features relaxed a little.
“Well,” I started to build up my defense, “I was sitting besides you, so I had a really good view of everything...”
“Pig!” she snorted, desperately trying to look hurt, but at the end she gave in, and she started to laugh open-heartedly, for the first time in so many months. I took her in my arms and hugged her to myself. It was such a wonderful feeling!
“I've been visiting you almost every night since I died, just to see how you and Lily are doing,” I admitted in a serious voice. “And tonight, for the very first time ever, I was able to visit you in your dreams. Next time you see Luna, give my regards and thanks to her.”
“Luna? As in Lovegood?” she asked in disbelief.
“As in Mrs. Ronald Weasley, love,” I corrected her, almost automatically. “You know Luna's always been … odd, to say the least, at least to our understanding. Well, she's one of the few living people who can freely roam both the Shadowlands and the Dreamscape. We have been seeing each other...” here I stopped; I hoped she'd not realized this slip of my tongue. I knew she was not prepared for learning that her deceased husband was seeing, in fact, dating, and to be absolutely correct, having magnificent sex with her friend who is very much alive and kicking. Bloody hell, I was confused, just imagine how much confused she must have been!
“Luna and I have been talking a lot, ever since I died,” I corrected myself. “She explained things I should know about the Shadowlands. Mum and Dad and Sirius and … well, the whole gang, they like her a lot.”
“Fred, Moody, Remus, Tonks,” she started to enumerate on her fingers.
“Dumbledore, Severus, yes, everybody we knew. Strange, but Severus himself is of very high opinion of Luna. Maybe because of the fact that he's dating Aranrhod, Luna's Mum. They were in the same year, only in different Houses, ” I nodded.
Hermione had to laugh at the mere idea of Snape dating somebody but suddenly went silent. “Harry, do V....Voldemort and the dead Death Eaters also live in the Shadowlands?” she shrugged in my arms. A brave girl as she'd always been, pronouncing this name was already enough to send unpleasant shivers down her spine.
“Yes, they do. Although, unlike us, the Death Eaters had been stripped of their magic by Merlin himself when they died. Voldemort's just Tom Riddle now, as he always has been, and for all his crimes the Wizengamot sentenced him to public services for an indefinite and endless amount of time. Now he works in St. Mungo's, trying to soothe the pain of those who'd suffered because of him.”
“Voldemort in St. Mungo's? No way, you are kidding,” she laughed, but seeing my serious face, she gulped.
“No, Hermione, I'm far from kidding. See this as Tom's personal variant to Purgatory,” I assured and hugged her to myself, to ease her discomfort and – I had to admit – to extend the sensation of being able to feel her just a little bit more. “Besides, I'm now Head of the Magical Law Enforcement Department and I do check on him every now and then, just for the sake of fun. I need to admit that I love to watch the expression on old Snake Head's face when I pop up behind him, completely unexpectedly.”
“Tonight Luna visited me in the Shadowlands and taught me an incantation, which lets me enter your dreams. This is how I found you, this is how we can talk, touch, kiss, feel each other,” I ended my story, and looked expectantly into her eyes. For a sign that she'd understood what I meant to bring to her.
Still shaking her head, she downed her tea, and without saying a word summoned the pot from the kitchen for a refill.
“I know, it all sounds weird, love, but you have to believe it. There are many things out there what you can't find in your favourite books. For example...this...” I placed my hand under her chin, gently lifted her head and, mesmerized by the fire in her beautiful brown eyes, kissed her, deeply and lovingly, as we used to kiss when we still were together. She hungrily answered the kiss, opening her mouth to allow my probing tongue in. It didn't take too long to tear all our clothes off, and in my last consistent thought I found us completely naked, her fragile body pinned under me and every square inch of her velvety skin covered with me.
“I can't believe I've just made love to my dead husband,” joked Hermione, snuggling up in my arms as we slowly came to breath, while I was gently tracing the contours of her curves with my fingers.
“I'm glad you've used the word 'making love' instead of 'having sex' or 'shagging', love,” I admitted as I wrapped my arms around her and inhaled the sweet scent of her hair I loved so much.
“It was definitely 'making love', my dear Harry. Just like our first time together, the day after the Battle. We have almost surpassed ourselves, “ Hermione blushed. “Only, by now we have learned what pleases the other most. I still do hope it won't qualify for necrophilia, will it?” She shrugged at the thought first, but then emitted a nervous laugh, seeing the disbelief on my face.
“Believe me, love, I'm not less confused than you are right now as this whole Dreamscape thing is pretty much new to me, but I guess what we've just done does qualify for a wonderful dream for you and me both,” I laughed, while thousands of emotions were running through my head. What a stupid idiot I had been, throwing all this away! How I wished this hadn't been a dream! How I wished I could get a second chance!
Nodding vehemently, she agreed in a husky voice, “Oh yes, definitely a wonderful dream, and I'm all in for a repetition.”
“Easy, woman, I'm dead, forgot?” I poke her in the ribs, causing her giggle. Usually, I was easy on her and didn't take advantage of her weak spot; she couldn't handle tickling very well. Now, I let a predator's smile form on my face as I slowly drew nearer.
“No, Harry, don't even try...you hear me? Let...me...go!” She laughed, cried, begged as her lungs were fighting her uncontrollable laughter, desperately trying to expand and breathe in some air. Suddenly, I felt being hit with a curse of some kind and before I knew, I couldn't move any more. Of course, a Full Body-Bind. I knew the effects of this curse ruddy well from my encounters with Malfoy. One of her hands must have skipped my attention; she managed to grab her wand and now it was too late. Now I would have to pay.
Now she was wearing the same smile as she replaced her wand where she'd taken it from, biting her lower lip, then slowly licking it; a small gesture that always made me crazy.
“You've taken advantage of me when I was defenseless, /Potter,/” she started in a mocking sweet voice, while she was weighing the situation. Hell, I got scared. I knew she was capable of things and she knew I was afraid of tickles as well. But my fear was quickly dissolved as she slowly, very slowly and teasingly, positioned herself above me, letting my eyes freely drink her beauty.
“Now, I'm going to take advantage of you, and I'm going to do it right,” she warned in a serious voice and the events which followed proved again that she'd always been a “man” of her words.
We both were woken by the sound of someone crying. She stirred first and yawned.
“Lily's awake, love. I've got to change and feed her. I have to wake up from this dream even if I completely distaste the mere thought of it. I'm so glad I found you again, but I have to go now,” she cast an apologetic look at me.
“I love you, Hermione, I always have. I will come to see you again very soon. Good night, sweetheart!” I kissed her one last time.
“I love you too, Harry, and I will be looking forward to it. Will you stay here with us for a while, until we fall asleep again?” she asked, with a slight undertone of hope in her sweet voice.
“If you don't mind me peeking around...” I winked at her and, drawing an intricate pattern with my wand, muttered “/Finite”/, emerging to the Shadowlands just an eon later.
I watched her as she still shaking her head waved towards the spot I'd just vacated and then, with a content smile on her face, quickly changed the very much awake and very much protesting Lily, who was obviously not used to being kept for so long.
I watched her as she, very much alike the Madonna on the Muggle paintings, nursed our daughter, singing a song I didn't recognize in a hushed voice. A song, which - I understood that - was meant to be sung to me, was meant to be heard by me. A song, which crawled deep under my skin and touched me deep in my heart. A love song, a love lullaby. A loving lament for her deceased husband.
“Where, oh where have you been, my love?
Where, oh where can you be?
It's been so long, since the moon has gone
And oh what a wreck you've made me
Are you there, over the oceans?
Are you there, up in the sky?
Until the return of my love
This lullaby
My hope is on the horizon
Every face, your eyes I can see
I plead and pray though each night and day
Our embrace is only a dream
And as sure as days come from moments
Each hour becomes a life's time
When he'd left, I'd only begun
This lullaby”
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