Anything (Male Reader x Hermione)

Harry's Nightmare

(Y/N) crept silently through the halls of Hogwarts. The day's events playing over and over through his head. He heard rushed voices echoing through the hall.  (Y/N) walked to the corridor he heard the voices coming from. "Shoo!" (Y/N) heard the familiar voice of Professor McGonagall command, and Mrs. Norris ran past him.

"Professor?" (Y/N) asked, turning the corner to be face to face with his teacher.

"Mr. Malfoy!" McGonagall yelped.

"What's wrong, Professor?"

"Mr. Potter needs to see Dumbledore," McGonagall explained. "You should come. We may need your help." McGonagall led them to Dumbledore's stone gargoyle. "Fizzing Whizbee," McGonagall said, and the gargoyle sprang to life and leapt aside, and the four stepped on the rapidly rising staircase. Though it was now well past midnight, there were voices coming from inside the room. It sounded as though Dumbledore was entertaining at least a dozen people. Professor McGonagall rapped three times with the griffin knocker, and the voices ceased abruptly as though someone had switched them all off. The door opened of its own accord and Professor McGonagall led Harry and Ron inside. The room was in half-darkness; the strange silver instruments standing on tables were silent and still rather than whirring and emitting puffs of smoke as they usually did. The portraits of old headmasters and headmistresses covering the walls were all snoozing in their frames. Fawkes dozed on his perch with his head under his wing.

"Oh, it's you, Professor McGonagall . . . and . . . ah." Dumbledore was sitting in a high-backed chair behind his desk; he leaned forward into the pool of candlelight illuminating the papers laid out before him. He was wearing a magnificently embroidered purple-and-gold dressing gown over a snowy-white nightshirt, but seemed wide awake, his penetrating light-blue eyes fixed intently upon Professor McGonagall.

"Professor Dumbledore, Potter has had a . . . well, a nightmare," said Professor McGonagall. "He says."

"It wasn't a nightmare," Harry said. The energy expended was too much and he steadied himself against (Y/N) and Ron. Professor McGonagall looked around at Harry, frowning slightly.

"Very well, then, Potter, you tell the headmaster about it."

"I . . . well, I was asleep," Harry said, "but it wasn't an ordinary dream . . . it was real. I saw it happen." He took a deep breath, "Ron's dad — Mr. Weasley — has been attacked by a giant snake." (Y/N) looked at Dumbledore. It wasn't the first time he'd heard of Voldemort's snake, Nagini. There was a pause in which Dumbledore leaned back and stared meditatively at the ceiling. Ron looked from Harry to Dumbledore, white-faced and shocked.

"How did you see this?" Dumbledore asked quietly, still not looking at Harry.

"Well . . . I don't know," said Harry, angrily. "Inside my head, I suppose —"

"You misunderstand me," said Dumbledore, still in the same calm tone. "I mean . . . can you remember — er — where you were positioned as you watched this attack happen? Were you perhaps standing beside the victim, or else looking down on the scene from above?" Harry gaped at Dumbledore.

"I was the snake," he said. "I saw it all from the snake's point of view." Nobody else spoke for a moment, then Dumbledore, now looking at Ron, who was still whey-faced, said in a new and sharper voice,

"Is Arthur seriously injured?"

"Yes," said Harry emphatically. Dumbledore still hadn't looked Harry or (Y/N) in the eyes. Dumbledore stood up so quickly that Harry jumped, and addressed one of the old portraits hanging very near the ceiling.