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 Harry saw a wand withdrawn from a belt, the man had seen him.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.
"Over here, Professor."
Professor McGonagall came hurrying into the dormitory in her tartan dressing gown, her glasses perched lopsidedly on the bridge of her nose.
"What is it, Potter? Where does it hurt?"
He had never been so pleased to see her; it was a member of the Order of the Phoenix he needed now, not someone fussing over him and prescribing useless potions.
"It's Ron's dad," Harry said, sitting up again, "he's been attacked by a snake and it's serious, I saw it happen."
"What do you mean, you saw it happen?" said Professor McGonagall, her eyebrows raised.
"I don't know...I was asleep and then I was there..."
"You mean you dreamed this?"
"No!" said Harry angrily. "I was having a dream at first about something completely different, something stupid and then this interrupted it. It was real, I didn't imagine it. Mr Weasley was asleep on the floor and he was attacked by a gigantic snake, there was a load of blood, he collapsed, someone's got to find out where he is..."
Professor McGonagall was gazing at him through her lopsided spectacles as though horrified at what she was seeing.
"I'm not lying and I'm not mad!" Harry told her, his voice rising to a shout. "I tell you, I saw it happen!"
"I believe you, Potter," said Professor McGonagall curtly, "put on your dressing gown, we're going to see the Headmaster."
Harry was so relieved she was taking him seriously that he did not hesitate, hut jumped out of bed at once, pulled on his dressing gown and pushed his glasses back on to his nose.
"Weasley, you ought to come too," said Professor McGonagall. The two boys followed McGonagall as they made their way to Dumbledore's office. When they arrived, McGonagall knocked on the door and the two boys followed the Professor into the room.
"Professor Dumbledore, Potter has had a...well, a nightmare," said Professor McGonagall, "he says.."
"It wasn't a nightmare," said Harry quickly.
Professor McGonagall looked round at Harry, frowning slightly. "Very well, then, Potter, you tell the Headmaster about it."
Harry explained what he saw again and Dumbledore listened, but didn't look at Harry. After Harry had finished explaining, 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, rather angrily, "inside my head, I suppose-"
"You misunderstand me," said Dumbledore, still in the same calm tone, "I mean...can you remember 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?"
"I was the snake," Harry said, "I saw it all from the snake's point of view."
Nobody else spoke for a moment, then Dumbledore, now looking at Ron, asked in a new and sharper voice. "Is Arthur seriously injured?"
"Yes," said Harry emphatically, why were they all so slow on the uptake, did they not realise how much a person bled when fangs that long pierced their side? And why could Dumbledore not do him the courtesy of looking at him?
But Dumbledore stood up, so quickly it made Harry jump, and addressed one of the old portraits hanging very near the ceiling. "Everard?" he said sharply. "And you too, Dilys!"
A sallow-faced wizard with a short black fringe and an elderly witch with long silver ringlets in the frame beside him, both of whom seemed to have been in the deepest of sleeps, opened their eyes immediately.
"You were listening?" said Dumbledore.
The wizard nodded; the witch said. "Naturally."
"The man has red hair," said Dumbledore, "Everard, you will need to raise the alarm, make sure he is found by the right people-"
The two portraits nodded and disappeared, Dumbledore asked McGonagall to go summon the other Weasleys, Dumbledore had to paused, he considered getting F/N Malfoy here, after all, there was a possibility that the boy envisioned Arthur's attack as well.
What he didn't know was that the Malfoy boy did have a vision, it wasn't of Arthur Weasley's attack, but it was of his past and his true identity.
F/N Malfoy knew that he was Y/N L/N.