It is said that Dream Binding is one of the most powerful – and difficult – spells. As its name suggests, it is used to connect the minds of two (or more) people on a subconscious level. In this manner, while they are asleep, the dreams of one of them, figuratively labelled as the host, are transmitted to the other(s), that is, the guest(s).
People believe that this can deeply affect the relationship between the people connected. That is why the Dream Binding spell must only be cast with the consent of both parties.
As a rule, the spell only establishes the connection between the minds and does not affect the dream itself. However, it is possible to use it together with a Legilimency spell in order to manipulate the shared dream, although this is challenging even for the most proficient wizards and witches.
Due to its nature, a skilled Occlumens can theoretically protect herself from the spell. Yet, it must be noted that since it affects the subconscious, it cannot be easily detected.
Excerpt from The Magic of Dreams: Advanced Spells and Curses
x-x-x
It was an ordinary Monday morning.
Hermione Granger, a Sixth Year student at Hogwards, the school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, woke up with a smile on her face. After the good night's sleep, the world seemed unusually bright and beautiful. What's more, she'd had such a great dream that made her feel warm on the inside. It was...
Dammit. She frowned. She couldn't remember a thing, it felt as if her head was filled with cotton candy. She sighed, but contented herself with the happy feeling.
Let's hope the day will be as nice as my dreams, she thought and the smile bloomed on her face again. She disentangled her body from the bedsheets and hopped off her tall bed.
The other Gryffindor girls whom she shared a bedroom with were still sleeping. Hermione's eyes landed on Parvati Patil, whose face was the only part of her body not covered by the linen.
The serene expression on the girl's face gave an idea to Hermione. A sly smile spread on her face and she grabbed her pillow.
Parvati squealed as the pillow hit her square in the face. She sat up with eyes wide open, scrambling for her wand. Only then did she hear the laughter auburn-haired girl before herself. She pouted, "Hermione, what…"
"G'morning, Parvati," Hermione grinned, "Did you sleep well?"
Not waiting for an answer, she jogged out of the bedroom and towards the bathroom, leaving a group of rather confused (and rather sleepy) girls wonder at her playfulness.
It was unlike her to be so light-hearted.
x-x-x
Sometime later, a fully awake Hermione searched for her hairbrush. She couldn't find it on her bedside table; it was neither in her bag nor in the closet.
"What the…" Desperate, Hermione looked under her bed. And there it was. Hermione shook her head, amused, then proceeded to comb her hair. It was so tangled that Hermione couldn't imagine how violently she must have been tossing and turning in her sleep. Once more reminded of her dream, she smiled softly.
The girl checked herself in the mirror to see if everything was in order (after a nasty occurence in kindergarten, which involved her wearing slippers instead of shoes and the other kids laughing at her, she was all but paranoid about not being properly dressed). Not only did her reflection not shown any obvious misses, but it also filled her with an odd sense of delight.
She never used to regard herself as beautiful or care much about appearances, but in the last years this had slowly changed. She had started to take care of herself and her efforts had paid off. Even her bushy hair looked tamer now, sleeker – she'd spent a month in a small village in Italy, which was not only picturesque but famous with its homemade cosmetics.
Someone behind Hermione cleared her throat. "'Mione, if you're done checking yourself out, I'd like to use the mirror too," Lavender Brown was smiling teasingly.
"I'm not-,"
The pretty dark-haired girl winked at her, "Don't deny it, you do have a right to admire yourself. But anyway, can I…?"
"Of course." Hermione held back her scowl. She stepped aside, grabbed her bag and dashed down the stairs.
x-x-x
As she'd expected, her friends were waiting for her in the Common Room. Harry Potter and Ron Weasley grinned when she appeared.
"Morning, Hermione!" they greeted her.
The annoyance Lavender had made her feel dissipated. "How are you, guys?"
"Sleepy," said the red-haired boy with a big yawn.
"Why? Couldn't?" Hermione's eyebrows furrowed.
"Oh, I slept well, but not nearly enough." Ron grimaced and rubbed his neck. "I spent like 3 hours doing my Defence against the Dark Arts essay and it's still not ready! Snape will kill me...! Or worse, give me a month detention!"
"Or worst, give you a month detention and then kill you?" Harry piped in, deadpan. Ron grumbled something incomprehensible.
Hermione chuckled. "Come on, Ron, is that you problem? I mean, all we had to do was write 500 words on the Unforgivable Curses. Mine's done since Friday!"
Ron and Harry shared a look and simultaneosly shook their heads.
Hermione pouted. "If you want to know—"
The redhead cut her mid-sentence by grabbing her hands. He stared into the her eyes with that innocent puppy-dog look that he knew would make her melt. "Hermione, please, I need your help!"
Hermione felt her cheeks grow hot. The way his fingers entwined with hers made her heart skip a beat. She avoided his eyes, but tried to sound as composed as possible when she replied, "Well, I guess I could—"
"Thank you!" Ron exclaimed, pulling her in a bear hug.
"... if you don't kill me first!" She choked out.
"Uh, sorry..." Ron let her go and looked away, his ears reddening suspiciously.
She cleared her throat and straightened her clothes before saying, "It's fine. Let's go have breakfast, because I'm starving."
x-x-x
In the Slytherin dungeons, Draco Malfoy slowly awoke. His inner clock alarmed him he was going to miss breakfast, but the blond boy only stretched and enjoyed the sleepy numbness in his limbs. He'd had some sort of a nice dream, but had no idea what it had been. It should have involved a lot of movement, though, given the way he had almost strangled himself in his linen.
A pleasant dream was a welcome change for the Slytherin boy –a breath of fresh air given hus usual ones – the snake-like face, twisted in an evil smirk, the long fingers clutching on a wand like spiders, the word "Crucio", repeated over and over again...
Draco suppressed a shiver and felt the calm dwindle, leaving him anxious once again. He sighed deeply and got up, preparing for another day.
x-x-x
"Harry, please, you have to listen to me! You have no idea who this Half-Blood Prince is, following his instructions blindly like you do could be dangerous!"
Harry threw her an annoyed look over the rim of his teacup, but didn't reply. It was Ron who said, "Please, Hermione, you're just pissed off that someone's better than you at Potions!"
"I—humph!" She stuck her fork into the slice of bacon.
If she had to be honest, he was right. She didn't enjoy being overshadowed by someone, even when it was Harry. But that was only a part of the reason she wanted him to throw the book away. "I'm just worried, is all," she muttered.
Ron opened his mouth to reply, but Harry said in a loud voice, "In any case, let's go or else we'd be late for Potions."
"Group class with the Slytherins, the best start of the day," Ron complained before he trudged after them out of the Great Hall.
x-x-x
Whatever remained of Hermione's cheerfulness was completely gone by the time she entered the Potions classroom. Professor Slughorn greeted them with a complacent smile that boded no good.
Apparently her friends shared her uneasiness, because Harry whispered, "Is it me or is he up to something?"
As if to confirm their suspicions, Slughorn stopped them before they took their usual seats. "Mister Potter, could you and your friends please wait for a moment? I want to change your current sitting order." His smile grew wider. "In these dark times, one must strive for unity between the Houses, and what a better place to start off than the classroom? So... Harry, if you could, join Mister Zabini."
Harry gaped incredulously, his eyes travelling between the Professor and the boy sitting at one of the tables at the back of his room. Blaise Zabini, a dark-haired boy whose face was set in a permanent expression of boredom, didn't look more thrilled by the prospect, but said nothing
Slughorn cocked an eyebrow, "Now, please."
Harry's shoulders sagged, but he complied. Slughorn's smile widened and he clasped his hands together. "Very well." He turned towards Ron. "Now, Mister Weasley, I want you to sit next to... Mister Crabbe."
"W-what?" the redhead stuttered, his face adopting a sickly green colour. (The contrast with his hair looked funny, Hermione mused.)
She squeezed the boy's hand sympathetically before he walked to his new place.
x-x-x
Draco snickered as he saw how Slughorn was making fun of his least favourite students. He was liking him more by the second. As pompous and long-winded as he was, he was making the Golden Trio suffer, and Draco could appreciate that.
The boy looked back to where they were standing, and couldn't help but notice Granger's reassuring gesture towards Weasel. He smirked – he knew the ginger was thick, but even he was surprised by his obliviousness. If the Mudblood held a sign which read "I'm in love with you, Weasley!", it would hardly have made it more obvious.
The Slytherin stared at Granger, left alone in the middle of the room. He could tell she was uncomfortable – her cheeks were slightly flushed, she bit at her bottom lip and her hands were clenched in tight fists. However, the Gryffindor held her chin up and was glaring at the Professor.
Draco had to admit it, her defiance was somehow endearing. Not that he would ever say that out loud.
"As for Miss Granger, would you care to sit next to..." Slughorn looked deep in thought, his eyes scanning the unnaturally quiet room. The man beamed and clapped his hands, "Mister Malfoy."
The girl's shocked expression mirrored Draco's.