The Order of the Phoenix | Hermione Granger x Male Reader (Book Five)

17. Arthur Weasley

Hermione, after the kiss was feeling so many emotions. Her head felt like it was going to explode and she retreated to her dormitory, quiet and silently suffering. She didn't even say goodnight to neither Harry to Ron.

She was still feeling sad, because of Y/N's death, then she was feeling confused because she liked Y/N and but now she liked F/N as well, she couldn't work out who she liked best. Then she was feeling guilty, she thought that it was an insult to Y/N's memory to be kissing F/N at all. As well as that, if F/N asked her out (she knew that there were signs that he liked her) Hermione would start worrying about what everyone else might say about her if she started going out with F/N, a Slytherin and a Malfoy. The multitude of emotions that she was feeling stuck with her even when she tried to drift to sleep, all she could think of that night was the feelings she felt towards the mysterious Slytherin. 

Over in the boys dormitory, Harry had just jerked awake. He had awoken from the weirdest dream, his head tilted to the side and he threw up, his forehead searing with pain.

In the dream, his body felt smooth, powerful and flexible. He was gliding between shining metal bars, across dark, cold stone. He was flat against the floor, sliding along on his belly, it was dark, yet he could see objects around him shimmering in strange, vibrant colours. He was turning his head, at first glance the corridor was empty, but then a man was sitting on the floor ahead, his chin drooping on to his chest, his outline gleaming in the dark. Harry put out his tongue...he longed to bite the man but he had to master the impulse, he had more important work to do. Harry saw a wand withdrawn from a belt, the man had seen him. Harry had no choice, he reared high from the floor and struck once, twice, three times, plunging his fangs deeply into the mans flesh, feeling his ribs splinter beneath his jaws, feeling the warm gush of blood. The man was yelling in pain and then he fell silent, he slumped backwards against the wall. Blood was splattering on to the floor...

"Harry! HARRY!" he heard his friend Ron yell, his thoughts and eyes focusing on his current surroundings. Ron was standing over Harry looking extremely frightened. There were more figures at the foot of Harry's bed. Harry clutched his head in his hands; the pain was blinding him.

"He's really ill," said a scared voice, "should we call someone?"

Harry had to tell Ron, it was very important that he tell him, taking great gulps of air, Harry pushed himself up in bed. "Your dad...he's been attacked..."

"What?" said Ron uncomprehendingly.

"Your dad! He's been bitten, it's serious, there was blood everywhere..."

"I'm going for help," said the same scared voice, and Harry heard footsteps running out of the dormitory.

"Harry, mate," said Ron uncertainly, "you...you were just dreaming..."

"No!" yelled Harry furiously; it was crucial that Ron understood him.

"It wasn't a dream... not an ordinary dream. I was there, I saw it...I did it..."

He could hear Seamus and Dean muttering but did not care. The pain in his forehead was subsiding slightly, though he was still sweating and shivering feverishly. He retched again and Ron leapt backwards out of the way.

"Harry, you're not well," he said shakily, "Neville's gone for help."

"I'm fine!" Harry choked, wiping his mouth on his pyjamas and shaking uncontrollably. "There's nothing wrong with me, it's your dad you've got to worry about - we need to find out where he is...he's bleeding like mad...it was a huge snake."

He tried to get out of bed but Ron pushed him back into it; Dean and Seamus were still whispering somewhere nearby. Whether one minute passed or ten, Harry did not know; he simply sat there shaking, feeling the pain recede very slowly from his scar...then there were hurried footsteps coming up the stairs and he heard Neville's voice again.