A/N: If you're wondering why I didn't include a waiver at the beginning of the first chapter, it's because it isn't really in the guidelines. By publishing anything on you've already attested to the fact that you don't own the source material. Sorry for any grammar or spelling errors. I'm not a real author, just pretending really. If this keeps up for a few more chapters, I shall try and find a beta. Also, I had totally reinterpreted ley lines for the sake of the story. If you are familiar with them at all, just toss the original lore out the window for the duration. Cheers.

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Wild, frizzy hair went flying in the moonlight as Hermione woke with a start. She'd been having that reoccurring dream again, only now it was beginning to seem more like a nightmare then anything. She swiped the back of her hand across her sweat beaded forehead, and tried to slow the sharply fearful breaths coming out.

"Mmmyou oooookay over there?", came a sleepy inquiry from a few beds away.

"Y-yes, I'm fine. Go back to sleep Parvati."

"Oooookaaay," she returned, yawning and rolling over.

Brows furrowed, Hermione stepped away from her bed and began the familiar trek down to the kitchens. The wind had kicked up recently as autumn faded into winter, bringing with it a chill throughout the halls of the castle at all times of day. That didn't stop her from stepping out on the second floor balcony she'd begun to think of as her thinking spot. The crisp weather of the Scottish highlands was barely warded off by her thick winter robes, and poorly so by the thin slippers she wore. Mid terms had come and gone, and yet the surreal dreams she had attributed to stress load had only gotten stranger. Tonight, however, was the first time she had ever been fearful as she flew. That thought in mind, she considered the Quidditch pitch in the distance and the school brooms in the locker rooms. Brown eyes stared sightlessly outward as she wondered if her broom skills would be any better now. No, likely not, she eventually decided. She'd never been on a broom in the dreams, always flying under her own power.

"Miss?", inquired a house elf from beside her.

"Oh, hello. What brings you up here, Fook?", she asked.

"Miss was on her way to kitchens again, yes? Always with the walking, and the thinking, and the snacking on nights like tonight." Large ears wobbled as he nodded vigorously, setting a small tray of tea cakes and coffee down beside her. "Fook will iron his ear if Miss thinks Fook is being impertinent, but he thought Miss might like to eat where the ceiling is stars and sky rather then rocks, maybe? Maybe?"

Hermione quickly reassured him before his tone became anymore distressed, and set about making the balcony more accommodating with warming and disillusionment charms, changing her robes into a big picnic blanket to lounge upon. She turned to smile at Fook as she settled down to star gaze, nibbling on tea cake. His ears flapped happily before he disapperated with a small pop.

Several tea cakes and half a cup of coffee later the furrow between her brows had worked itself out as she came to a few conclusions about her dream earlier in the evening. Polaris shined brightly, the moon off hidden somewhere. Brown eyes watched it appreciatively as she determined that if her subconscious was still giving her dreams, and if they had gotten more shocking, then she must be missing something. Something her mind really thought she ought to be paying attention to. Before, the faceless and dark robed figures were far away, chasing her from a distance. Now they were closer, occasionally catching up enough to graze her ankles. The moment they did, her seemingly effortless dream flight ceased and she began to fall. As the trees and dirt below seems to rose to meet her, she had a clear sense that she didn't watch to touch them. The ley lines spilled out sickly green like the lines in the sky, the closer she got. The wind of gravity undenied tore at clothing, hair, and skin; feeling as it if were ripping everything from her. She sat up and drained the rest of her coffee, shaking away the creeping fear.

"Vedemagus.", she cast upon herself, as Professor Dumbledore had done the other night. The wandwork came easily, and the glowing, writhing rivers of the ley lines spilled away below. She sighed at the light show, tired yet strangely awake even at this early hour.

"So, if the lines along the ground are ley lines, what were the trails in the sky for?", she mused aloud, turning her gaze up. A smile pulled at the corner of her mouth as she considered asking Luna Lovegood about it. Something strange from a dream that no one else had seen, something none of the many books she had searched through had any information about. It sounded right up Luna's alley, for sure, but she reluctantly dismissed the idea. The dreamy-eye Ravenclaw really was an expert on mythical creatures, not Arithmetic designs. Hermione narrowed her eyes in consideration. "Well then, if not Luna, then who would have expertise on... Oh! Of course," she muttered to herself, "why didn't I think of this before? I should should ask Professor Vector." Her expression lightened at the idea of asking her Arithmancy teacher about the designs. She could simply transcribe a few onto paper, and ask about them after class. Leaving the tea tray tucked into a corner of the balcony, she dismissed the various comfort and privacy spells cast earlier, and made for her waiting bed.

–

"Excuse me, Professor Vector? Do you have a moment?" Hermione shoved her copy of Numerology and Grammatica into her back, and approached the teacher's desk.

"I suppose so, Miss Granger. What can I do for you?" The stern arithmancy professor settled her hands in her lap and gave her top student an inquiring look. Septima Vector was rather accustomed to the muggle-born witch approaching her to clarify a point on an essay or homework assignment at least twice a week.

"Well, it's rather strange, you see...", she trailed off. Pulling the parchment roll of dream patterns from her bag, Hermione attempted to figure out an eloquent way to say she had seen something in a dream and needed help figuring it out. It was rather ridiculous sounding out loud, she mused.

"Yes?" Spreading the parchment out on the desk top, Hermione cast a light sticking charm to flatten it out, and gestured to the bits and pieces of arithmantic graph work strewn about it's surface.

"I seem to have arithmancy stuck on my mind, Professor. I've been dreaming about it, in fact. I'm trying to decipher some of these to see what they solve for, but I don't have the source equations, nor do I recognize most of them." She shrugged and looked up at the scarlet clad arithmancer, hoping for a clue.

"Let's see here...", trailed off Professor Vector as she skimmed the parchment. "It seems you must have a lot on your mind. Most of these are fragmented, and the subject seems to jump from topic to topic if the irregular curving is anything to go by. Have you considered picking out the most complete of the lot, and backtracking with a few different sets of number charts, to see if any of them match up?"

"I hadn't, Professor." Hermione bit her lower lip, thinking. "...but where could I get a set of premade number charts to compare to? The library?"

"Not quite." Septima's black curls and scarlet brimmed hat bobbed once in time with the stiff shake of her head. "You'll want to look up the recharting methods used by arithmancers for redefining graphs found at ruins and ancient ritual sites. Archeologist teams uncover old murals and arithmantic based art in Egypt and South America fairly regularly, so you may start your search for literature there. Unfortunately, once you have a gist of the methods, you will have to make the comparison charts yourself and adjust until the numbers begin to match." Hermione stared at her in mild horror. It seemed as if the numbers themselves were betraying her by being involved in such a hit-and-miss practice, no better then divination.

"I-I see. Thank you,", she recovered, blinking several times and returning the parchment to her shoulder bag. "very much. That is... a place to start." Professor Vector gave a rare smile at the shocked look on her student's face.

"Bit of an undertaking, isn't it? Might I advise finding an unused class room, and charming the walls into chalk boards? You might find it easier to have a great deal of work space, and somewhere to mentally leave the numbers behind when other activities call your attention.", she added, with a knowing look in her eyes.

"Yes, yes of course. That's an excellent idea, Professor. Thank you again." Hermione waved farewell as she made her way out of the class room and down the stairs of the Turris Magnus tower. It was time to hit the library, and hunt for just the right books. Her shoulders straightened and her head came up in excitement at the prospect.