Harry and I eventually went to bed last night, me sleeping for only an hour or so due to the repeated vision of my mother and that boy in the great hall, playing over and over again in my brain. I ended up sitting up in my bed behind the closed curtains, just staring into the dark and trying to rid my mind and body of the feeling that my mother had been feeling. Even though it was out of my control I felt like I was betraying Harry by these dreams and knowing what it felt like to be so attracted to another boy.

Since I wasn't able to sleep at all I decided that I was going to go and visit Dumbledore in his office to discuss my dreams. I followed the all too familiar corridor to his office, surprised that I didn't pass any professors along the way who liked to set the precedent to first years that sneaking out of bed after hours would not be acceptable.

I made it to the large statue in front of Dumbledore's office, realizing that I had no idea what his password was. I stared at the statue, its eyes just looking back at me blankly as I struggled to think of what it could be. After several guesses I gave the statue a rather thorough kick, which of course did more damage to my foot than the statue, but to my luck caused the statue to swing forward.

Professor Dumbledore who was in a long deep purple nightgown with stars on it appeared before me, looking up and seeming slightly startled as he found me right in front of him. Regathering himself slightly, having dropped the newspaper in his hands, he gave me a warm smile.

"Forgive me Abby. I was just a bit surprised to see you here at this hour."

"No, I'm sorry Professor. I shouldn't have just shown up like this," I said with an apologetic smile. "I was just wondering if we might be able to talk?"

Dumbledore looked at me over the top of his spectacles, a curious look on his face. "I would say let's go inside the office but seeing as no one is awake at this hour but you and me I think we'll be safe to talk here."

"I wanted to talk to you about these dreams that I have been having," I said looking out the window besides us.

"Dreams? What kind of dreams," Dumbledore asked.

"I don't know that they're dreams so much as memories. At least, they feel like memories, but not my memories."

"Whose memories?"

"My mothers," I said, turning back to look at him.

Dumbledore was quiet as he looked into my eyes. "Perhaps you ought to come into my office," he said, turning around and heading back up the steps without waiting for a response.

I followed him up the steps and sat down at the familiar arm chair that I had found myself sitting in quite frequently last year. He hurried around and sat down at the seat across from me, shuffling some things around on his desk so that he could rest his elbows upon it. It looked like he had been researching something since there were numerous books and papers spread throughout.

"So, tell me about these dreams," he said, looking at me seriously.

I relayed to him the dream that I had had over the summer and the new dream I had had on the Hogwarts Express and that night. Dumbledore listened to me intently as I spoke, leaning more and more forward with each word I spoke. When I finished he sat there quietly for a moment, looking down at a sheet in paper in front of him.

"And you say you don't recognize the boy in the dream?"

"No, professor, I don't. But in my dream you knew who he was and you seemed kind of concerned."

Dumbledore kept looking at the paper before he eventually shifted his glance up and looked at me. "There are some things that are going to change this year Abby; things that I will come to tell you in time, but as of this moment I don't want you to stress about."

"So these dreams do mean something?"

"Oh, they are not dreams but memories as you have guessed. And I have no doubt that they are your mother's."

"But Professor, how am I seeing them? I don't even know where my mother is let alone how to access someone's memories."

"I know this is frustrating Abby, but I need you to trust me when I tell you that I will give you answers, but not right this moment. For now when you have these visions I want you to want them down, but make sure that you keep them safe and only share them with those you trust with your life. Do you understand?"

"Of course Professor," I said with a little sigh.

"You go on back to your bed and try to get some rest. We'll be in touch."

Nodding my head I stood up and headed out of Dumbledore's office, leaving him there with a bunch of thoughts streaming through his head. As the statue slammed closed behind me I couldn't help but let out a little sigh of frustration. So these dreams, or should I say memories, were real, but what did they mean? And why was Dumbledore unable to tell me now? Kicking a stone that had crumbled off the wall I let out another grunt of frustration. As usual I went to Dumbledore for answers and instead left with even more questions.