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Yuletide Blessing in Disguise	By : Gandalfs-Beard Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Harry/Hermione Views: 122892 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 8
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any related properties--all rights belong to Rowling. Nor do I make any money from the production of this work.

Chapter List
- 10
- 11
- 12
A Midwinter Night's Dream

Hermione thought it best to leave it to Harry to explain things to Ron, hopefully avoiding triggering an outburst. She sat nearby in one of the cushioned armchairs, a book propped up in front of her face, half-listening as Harry quietly gave Ron the gist of things.
Ron gawked at Harry, not quite sure that he had heard correctly.
“Wait, so you’re telling me that you’re ditching Divination?”
“I didn’t really have a choice, Ron,” Harry retorted. “It was McGonagall’s idea apparently.”
“And you’ve got a bodyguard now?” The look in Ron’s eye suggested a bit more than incredulity.
“Yeah! More or less... but not just for me - for Hermione as well.”
“Bloody Hell!” Ron swore, scowling, tabling the issue of of Harry and Hermione’s secret personal escort for the moment, as he wasn’t quite sure how he felt about that. But there was one feeling he was certain of.
“What am I going to do in Divination then?” Ron moaned. “We were supposed to be taking it together.”
“Well, it’s not going to be a piece of cake for me either, Ron,” said Harry, his frustration growing. “I’m certainly not going to miss Trelawney predicting my death all the time, but I’m stuck in fourth year Ancient Runes and Arithmancy now - I’ll be a year and half behind everyone else. ... While they’re doing whatever, I’ll be starting from scratch - the only one in the classes who’s completely rubbish at them.”
“Oh!” Ron deflated like a punctured balloon; he hadn’t considered that angle. “That’s bollocksed mate,” he sighed, looking more sympathetic. “You’re right Harry. I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes.”
“Anyway, you’ll still have Neville in Divination,” Harry pointed out. “And I’ll still see you in all our other classes...”
“Yeah, true enough,” Ron agreed. “But all that extra homework - you probably won’t have as much time to hang out after classes.”
Harry nodded, then shrugged resignedly.
“Honestly, I’m not as fussed about the homework as I thought I would be,” Harry confessed. “I just wish I’d picked Runes and Arithmancy to begin with, instead of Divination. What with Vol...” Harry caught himself, not wanting to upset Ron even more, “...withYou-Know-Who after me nearly every year, I should’ve been more focused on learning as much magic as possible if I ever want to stand a chance against him and finish him permanently one day. ... He’s a bloody Evil Genius!”
“Suppose so,” said Ron, “I’m just glad I’m not taking Runes and Arithmancy. Better you than me!”
Harry couldn’t help grinning at that. Hermione snorted, her rolling eyes hidden by the novel.

~o0o~
“Writing a book, are you Draco?” asked Zabini, raising his eyebrows. “Thought you might want to sort things out with Pansy, instead of wasting your time.”
“Mind your own business, Blaise!” snapped Draco.
“Suit yourself,” Zabini shrugged. “It’s no skin off my nose if you don’t apologise to Pansy.”
Draco scowled, seething as he continued penning a letter to his father. The Yule Ball had been an utter disaster, and it was all Potter’s fault.
Potter had sowed the seeds of doubt in Pansy, who had told Daphne about Draco’s demands to get her nose fixed if she wanted to go to the Yule Ball with him; Daphne had then refused his generous offer to take her to the Ball “on a matter of principle,” standing by her friend, Pansy. And to top things off, Potter had humiliated Draco in front of that snooty French bitch.
All this had followed on the heels of ruining the advantage that Snape had given Draco after his last letter to his father. Draco had hoped that he would be able to take the opportunity to ingratiate himself more with Krum, and undermine his friendship with Potter while Potter was too busy doing homework to spend any more time with the Durmstrang Champion.
Draco knew that Potter was involved in that somehow, perhaps his pet Mudblood too. They had got to Dumbledore, and of course that muggle-lover had favoured his golden boy, Potter. These humiliations and insults to Draco’s honour simply could not stand; he was a Pureblood, a Noble. Potter and the Mudblood should be groveling at his feet, if not six feet under.
Draco had held out some hope that the Dragon - which his father had informed him of at the outset of the tournament - would either eat Potter or at least horribly burn and mutilate him. But Potter had somehow managed to get lucky again. Dumbledore must have used some sort of magic to give Potter an advantage; it was inconceivable that anyone could actually out-fly a Dragon - they were born to fly.
If his father had had something to do with rigging the tournament, as Draco suspected, then he had obviously failed. It was long past time to put an end to Potter and his Mudblood, and if his father’s apparent new schemes to finish them off after the Chamber of Secrets debacle continued to be thwarted, Draco might be forced to take matters into his own hands...

~o0o~
The next few days leading up to the New Year were by and large pleasantly filled with holiday spirit for Harry and Hermione, despite some trepidation regarding the possibility that the Triwizard Tournament had been rigged, and wondering what sort of mad scheme Voldemort would come up with next.
Dora had moved into spare teachers’ quarters in the corridor next to the entrance of Gryffindor tower, and had introduced herself as a new teacher’s assistant to most of the Gryffindors. Only Ron and Neville, and Lavender and Parvati knew of her real purpose, and had all agreed to keep it a secret.
As Dora had indicated he might, the real Alastor Moody sent for Harry and Hermione on the third day of Christmas. It was a bit disconcerting to meet someone for the first time that they thought they knew.
Moody’s magical eye swiveled to peer at them suspiciously when he cracked open the sturdy oak door of his private quarters after Dora knocked. Only after Dora turned her hair a shade of blue did he allow them all entrance. The real Moody looked a bit more haggard and worn than the fake Moody, but that was to be expected as he had been held captive at the bottom of his own trunk for several months.
Harry and Hermione both felt a bit anxious as they sat down with Dora on a sofa. The real Moody somehow seemed even more intimidating than the fake one.
“So you’re Potter, obviously,” Moody growled, his eye briefly landing on Harry’s scar, “and you must be Granger. Dumbledore said it was the doing of you two which saved me. Can’t thank ye both enough, really!”
“Er... You’re welcome,” said Harry, unable to think of anything else to say.
“Er... How are you feeling now?” Hermione nervously asked, her voice a bit squeaky as she unconsciously took Harry’s hand, gripping it tightly.
“Much better, thanks,” said Moody gruffly. “Just a bit o’ wounded pride perhaps.”
Moody’s magical eye darted back and forth between Harry and Hermione, as if sizing them up, and his features broke into an ugly grin.
“Hmm... seems Minerva was right about you two,” he chuckled. “Looks like you’re practically hitched already.”
Harry and Hermione both blushed furiously at Moody’s blunt remarks. Dora rolled her eyes.
“Oi! You promised you wouldn’t tease ‘em, Mad Eye,” Dora admonished the grizzled ex-Auror.
Moody grunted. “Just callin’ it as I see it, Tonks! ... Anyway, Potter, you’d best be prepared for some hard trainin’ come the beginning of the term. Gotta get ye whipped into shape - but we’ll have you ready to make Death Eaters eat death in no time, if Dumbledore’s right about you... Granger, you might as well join us, seein’ as you and Potter are attached at the hip.”
“Mad Eye!” Dora shot him a glare. Moody chuckled again.
“Right, I suppose I’ll let you two get on with the holidays,” said Moody. “You might as well enjoy the frivolity while it lasts. Mark my words though, fun and games will be over once term starts! And watch your backs - even with Tonks on guard, you’ll still need to keep yer eyes peeled.
“Constant Vigilance!” he concluded with a bark. Dora rolled her eyes again.
Harry and Hermione both gulped; Hermione’s hand tightened around Harry’s even more.
“Y...yeah,” Harry stammered. “We’ll keep our eyes out.”
“We will,” squeaked Hermione, nodding vigorously, “definitely!”
“Good! Make sure you do!” Moody grunted, looking satisfied. “Alright then, I’ll be seein’ you two around. Good t’meet you both.”
“Er... you too sir,” said Harry as he stood up to leave.
“Bye,” said Hermione.
Dora shook her head after shutting Moody’s door behind them, hearing half a dozen deadbolts click into place.
“Sorry ‘bout that,” said Dora, a slight smirk on her face. “‘E’s a bit rough around the edges, but he’s alright really. Mad Eye’s a bit more wound up than usual, but I suppose you can’t really blame him after what he’s just been through. He’ll probably calm down a bit by the time term starts.”
“Well, he’s not wrong, really,” said Hermione.
“Yeah, after everything that’s happened to me at Hogwarts, I probably should be on the lookout more,” Harry agreed with a sigh.
“Look, Mad Eye may be right, but sometimes he goes a little overboard,” Dora reassured them. “Yeah, it’s good to be aware, but don’t let it eat you up if you wanna stay sane. From everything I’ve heard, you’re not doing so bad in that department - you did rumble the fake Moody after all...
“And don’t forget, I’ll be around - there’s a few other Aurors here too - and Dumbledore’s put up some extra security measures, including Polyjuice and Imperius checks on all visitors and staff members.”
“Oh!” Harry brightened up, relieved at hearing that piece of news. “That’s brilliant!”

~o0o~
The fourth day of Christmas was taken up in part with Harry and Hermione reading a couple of the science fiction books Hermione’s parents had sent her for Christmas. Then in the afternoon, Harry flew around a bit with Ron and the Weasley Twins. Viktor was off somewhere with Lavender - probably snogging, Harry reckoned.
Hermione was joined by Fleur and Gabrielle in the stands, all bundled up against the cold, conversing in French, in which Hermione was apparently quite fluent. Harry had been a bit surprised at first, then he remembered that Hermione had spent some holidays in France and Switzerland.
Harry and Hermione even found a little time to do a bit of snogging themselves, and all in all it had been a great day. It wasn’t until nearly bedtime that Harry began to feel unsettled again, his scar itching and burning more intensely than it had in some months.
“You alright Harry?” Neville asked, already in his pyjamas when Harry entered the dormitory, “You look a bit peaky.”
“Harry seems alright to me,” said Ron who had been oblivious the past half-hour in the common room. Then he peered at Harry, squinting as if that would help him see better and shrugged. “Dunno if Neville’s right, but are you sure you’re okay Harry?”
“I’m fine,” Harry fibbed, “Just a little twinge in my scar...”

~o0o~
Powdery white drifts piled up against the brick walls of the old manor house which was falling into disrepair as flurries of snow whipped around it, driven by a bitter wind which howled under the eaves. Very few people ever approached the manor, especially at night in the middle of winter, excepting the occasional youths who dared to see if it was as haunted as some folk claimed.
But there were no youths tonight, and if there had been, they would have no doubt fled in terror upon hearing the screams within. In a cobwebby upstairs drawing room with faded and peeling wallpaper, a rodent like man was screaming and writhing on the threadbare Persian rug.
“M...Master, I beg you! It wasn’t my fault!”
“Beg a little harder, Wormtail,” hissed a high, cold voice, “and I may forgive you!”
“P...please Master! How was I to prevent Crouch from being captured?”
The red arc of magic halted, and the oozing homunculus in the armchair set down his wand, his rage abating enough to consider his servant’s word.
“You have a point Wormtail,” the homunculus admitted. “It was Crouch’s own incompetence which led to his failure. And perhaps I was too trusting to believe that he was my most faithful servant. I shall not make that mistake again - are there no others who will do my bidding?”
Thankful that his master had ended the torture, Wormtail, shaking, scrambled to his knees and prostrated himself.
“N...no Master! The Ministry has not yet released the information regarding your return - perhaps to avoid panic without more proof than that which Crouch may have provided. Many still believe you are dead, and those who suspect you may yet be alive are not willing to go against Dumbledore without clear evidence of your continued existence - my word would not be enough.
“B...but if you wish it, I... I will bring you Potter myself,” Wormtail offered tentatively, hoping it would be enough to stave off another furious outburst from his master.
The homunculus was silent for a moment, contemplating his options. Finally, he seemed to have reached a decision.
“No Wormtail, you are too valuable to me to risk on such a mission at Hogwarts while Dumbledore presides over it. I still need you to milk Nagini, and to perform the ritual. It may indeed have to be done with another, as you previously suggested.”
“M...Master?” Wormtail was incredulous, unable to believe his good fortune. Such words were high praise indeed, coming from his master.
“I believe I may have misjudged you Wormtail. Wretched though you are, you have proved your worth to me, beyond those others who have forsaken their lord and master. You showed courage to seek me out when no others would.
“Your foresight to kidnap a Ministry lackey was inspired, and your skill at performing the necessary ritual to craft this crude form for me to inhabit demonstrates at least a modicum of competence in the Dark Arts.
“Continue to serve me well, and you may yet find yourself placed above the others when I have been restored. Those fools who have deserted me - they shall feel my wrath when they eventually return to my side.”
“Th...thank you Master, ... Thank you! ... Your generosity knows no bounds,” Wormtail groveled obsequiously. “I will serve you well. I shall not disappoint you!”
“See that you do not, Wormtail.”
“What is your bidding now, Master? Shall I procure a replacement for the boy?”
“No!” the homunculus replied. “Not yet. We shall await the outcome of the Second Task, and see what comes of it. And in the meantime, perhaps we might find another who can slip past the increased security protocols at Hogwarts to bring me the boy. If not, then we shall move forward with a replacement...”

~o0o~
“Harry! Harry... Wake up!”
Harry finally managed to emerge from the dark sludge which clung to him like quicksand, threatening to pull him back down into unconsciousness, the worried faces of Ron and Neville hovering above him. Blinking, Harry was now wide awake, his heart racing, thudding against his ribcage, beads of cold sweat dripping from his brow, his scar on fire. His sheets and covers were a tangled mess, entwined around him, apparently from thrashing about in his sleep.
“Wh...what happened?” asked Harry, still feeling a bit confused.
“Blimey mate!” Ron burst out, “You were yelling in your sleep!”
“We couldn’t wake you though,” said Neville, who looked very shaken. “That must have been some nightmare.”
“It wasn’t a nightmare,” Harry muttered. “It was real! I was there...”
“But you were asleep,” said Neville, looking bewildered. “You didn’t go anywhere.”
“That’s not what I mean,” said Harry, feeling frustrated, not really sure how to explain it.
“Was it... was it like, you know, earlier this summer - that dream you eventually told me and Hermione about?” asked Ron.
“That wasn’t a dream either,” Harry answered, now certain of the truth. “I need to speak to Dumbledore - he needs to know.”
“But it’s the middle of the night,” Ron moaned, “You can’t...”
“There’s no way I can go back to sleep now,” Harry said insistently. “I have to tell him...”
“Maybe you should see Madam Pomfrey,” Neville suggested. “She’ll have something to help you sleep, and you can see Dumbledore in the morning.”
“This can’t wait,” said Harry sharply as he clambered out of bed and put on his robe and slippers. “I’m going.”
“Do... do you want me to go with you?” asked Ron, his features earnest.
Harry shook his head. “No! Thanks Ron, but I’ll be okay... I’m fine now! I just need to see Dumbledore while it’s still fresh in my mind - I don’t want to forget anything. You go back to sleep.”
“Alright, if you say so Harry.”
Neville and Ron watched Harry exit the dorm and crawled back into their respective beds once Harry had departed. Harry padded down the stairs, wishing he could get up to the girls’ dorm to bring Hermione with him, and feeling a bit guilty that he hadn’t wanted to go with Ron.
Then it came to Harry - Dora had told him to get her whenever he needed, day or night. She could go up to the girls’ dormitory and fetch Hermione for him. He slipped out through the portrait hole and approached the door of Dora’s quarters. Swallowing nervously, Harry began to have second thoughts about waking her in the dead of night.
Harry knocked before he could talk himself out of it. The door creaked open and Dora peeked out, her sleep clouded eyes widening when she saw who it was, instantly alert.
“What’s up Harry? What’s wrong?”
“Er...” Harry suddenly felt stupid and pathetic, not wanting to give her the impression that he’d just had some sort of nightmare and needed comforting. “Sorry to wake you, but I need to see Dumbledore - it’s really important. But... er... I was hoping you could get Hermione for me too.”
“No problem Harry,” said Dora, much to Harry’s surprise, having thought she might be reticent. “Wait right here and I’ll go get her.”
A few minutes later Dora reappeared with a yawning Hermione in her nightgown and slippers, much to the annoyance of the portrait of the Fat Lady.
“In and out and in and out at this time of night,” the Fat Lady grumbled. “Make up your minds.”
“What’s going on Harry?” asked Hermione, her eyes full of concern. “Have you been having nightmares again?”
“It’s more than that,” Harry groaned, reddening as he glanced at Dora. Hermione caught on quickly.
“Oh!” she gasped, “Like your vision during the summer.”
“Yeah,” said Harry. “I’d wait till morning, but it could be hazy by then, and I don’t want to forget any important bits of information. And I, er... I just thought you should hear it firsthand too.”
“Right, come on then,” said Dora. “Let’s get you to Dumbledore’s office.”
The three of them traipsed through castle, and when they arrived, the gargoyle guarding Dumbledore’s tower was as annoyed as the Fat Lady to be awoken so late - or early, depending on whether one counted the wee hours of the morning as night or not.
The winding stone staircase carried the trio up to the oak door of Dumbledore’s office, where Dora grasped the brass door knocker and rapped three times. It took a few minutes, but Dumbledore finally appeared, wearing the long woolen nightgown that Harry recalled seeing in second year when Colin Creevey had been petrified and brought to the hospital wing late at night.
“Ah, Harry, Miss Granger, Tonks, do come in and make yourselves comfortable.”
Dumbledore gestured to three well cushioned chintz armchairs which appeared out of thin air in front of his desk. As the Auror and the pair of students settled into the seats, Dumbledore took his own and waved his wand, conjuring a tray with three steaming mugs of cocoa and a plate of chocolate covered digestives. Fawkes ruffled his feathers, trilling expectantly, and Dumbledore tossed him one of the biscuits.
Once everyone had a mug in hand and had taken a sip of cocoa, the headmaster peered cannily over the top of his half-moon glasses.
“Well, Harry - I presume that you are the one who called for this impromptu meeting, and that you have some important information to impart.”
“Yes sir,” Harry nodded, wishing he hadn’t when his scar throbbed. “I... er... I had another dream sort of vision, like I did during the summer. It was Voldemort and Wormtail, they’ve just found out that Crouch has been captured, and they’re making plans...”
Everyone listened intently while Harry recounted everything with as much detail as he could remember, which was far more than he had recalled during the summer, down to the cobwebs and the peeling wallpaper. When he had finished, Dumbledore steepled his fingers, looking disturbed.
“Thank you, Harry,” he said. “You did well to bring this to me as soon as possible, despite the late hour. Not only does this confirm the information we received from Crouch, but now we have a strong inkling of Voldemort’s plans for the near future.”
“I just wish I could figure out where they were,” Harry sighed. “Then we’d be able to stop them before Voldemort could regain a proper body and capture Wormtail.”
“Quite so,” Dumbledore agreed. He stroked his beard pensively as his piercing blue eyes gazed at Harry. “This connection you have, Harry...” he murmured. “Under the right circumstances, we could perhaps put it to great use.
“...Putting that aside for now, we can revisit that later. In the meantime I think we need to have that talk I had promised you. There is much that I have kept from you, Harry - answers to the questions you asked at the end of your first year. I perhaps should have told you sooner - I think I may have been mistaken to withhold it from you for so long - and there are other things which I have gleaned during the years in between then and now.
“We shall discuss this further tomorrow, say over lunch here in my office?”
Harry’s eyes widened, as he felt a thrill of excitement. Finally, the answers he had been seeking so long were so near he could practically taste them. He shared a look with Hermione, who seemed as rapt as he was.
“Can I bring Hermione again?” he asked Professor Dumbledore.
“I don’t see why not,” said Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling as he turned his head slightly to look at Dora, giving her a wink. “And I see no reason why you shouldn’t join us as well, Miss Tonks, given the situation at hand. ... Now, what say we finish our cocoas and return to bed?”
“Blimey!” Dora muttered on the way back to Gryffindor Tower with Harry and Hermione, her cheeks as pink as her hair, “Miss Tonks? Never thought I’d hear that again...”
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Yuletide Blessing in Disguise