Brighter Than the Sun

Chapter Fifty-Five

As Hermione and I headed up the marble staircases, I was careful to keep the toast tightly wrapped so it would stay warm. After all that had happened last night, Harry deserved some warm toast at the very least.

"Ash?" Hermione spoke up.

"Yeah?"

"Look... I know a lot has happened since the World Cup. I've been worried about you since these – I don't even know what to call them — blackouts — started happening. I'm not asking you to tell me everything about it, but I do hope that you've been trying to get help with it."

"I have had some help," I said. "From Trelawney, and from Madame Pomfrey just last night."

"Trelawney?"

"It was in Sirius' letter," I said. I paused for a bit, trying to decide how much I should tell her. "He... he thinks the dreams I have when I blackout are visions."

"Visions about what?" Hermione said, her eyes wide.

"I can't really remember." That was one thing I was going to lie about. "Just blurry faces. I think I saw a sword in there somewhere."

"A sword?"

"I know, right? What is this, the Middle Ages?" I smiled dryly at Hermione. "Anyway, Sirius told me to see Trelawney about them. She just recommended a continuation of the dream journal we did last year. Apparently writing it down allows a clearer look into the Inner Eye or whatever. Supposedly, I'll be able to focus more on the details if I write down the bigger picture."

"That sounds like a load of rubbish," Hermione grumbled.

"Yeah, but it's my best option for now, unless I want to go to Dumbledore – and I don't think it's that bad." Yet, I added mentally.

"But if the dream journal does work and you see something bad, you'll tell him, right?"

I frowned. "I don't know. Trying to prevent parts of the future always ends badly. I'm not saying I think Dumbledore will try to prevent it, but what if I See something bad happening to you or Ron or somebody and I tell Dumbledore and Dumbledore tells Harry and Harry goes into Impulsive Idiot Mode to try to stop that bad thing from happening but only makes it worse in doing so?"

"That's a good point," Hermione admitted. "Especially the Impulsive Idiot Mode. Did you come up with that yourself?"

"Yeah. I'm not wrong, though."

"No, you're not. Harry's default mode is always Impulsive Idiot in a crisis." Hermione sighed. "That's why I'm extremely worried about what's going to happen to him in the Triwizard Tournament."

"You won't tell anyone else about the visions, will you?" I asked. "I'm not prepared to discover I'm some sort of Oracle or whatever. We need to focus more on helping Harry now."

"I won't tell anyone if you don't want me to," Hermione promised. "But if I think something bad will happen to you, all bets are off."

"Fair enough," I agreed.

We arrived at the portrait hole and slipped inside. Halfway through, we ran into Harry.

"Hello," I said, holding up the stack of toast. "We brought you this."

"Want to go for a walk?" Hermione asked.

"Good idea," said Harry gratefully.

We went back downstairs, crossed the entrance hall quickly without looking in at the Great Hall, and were soon heading across the lawn toward the lake, where the Durmstrang ship was moored, reflected darkly in the water. It was a chilly morning, and we kept moving, munching on the toast, as Harry told Hermione and I exactly what had happened after he'd left the Gryffindor table the night before.