A/N: First off, thank you so much to everyone who read my last story! You have no idea how happy that made me. This story is, in a word, different. It's more serious, and this first part is very oddly written and may be a tad confusing. Trust me, everything works out. It took me FOREVER. I have school and all, so it'll probably be slow posting each part and this is going to be long. I already have two more parts done. Thinking up this title took so long. D'you like it? Well, I'll be quiet now. Last note: This will be R/H or D/H, let me know what you want, thought the romance is not until way later.

Oh yeah, please please review this if you want me to continue. And could someone please put me on author alert? I'm very depressed right now *sigh* I have like, 2 people who have me on that. It was really hard to write and...oh, read the story I'm shutting up.



It was a cool night, but much darker then any one she'd ever seen. The sky was pitch black, and the ground was made not of dirt, but of water. At least it looked like water. It was hard to tell in the dark, and anyway, she didn't get wet when she touched it. Instead, the water turned red and her stomach leapt right up into her throat. She would tell her companion to leave her, insisting that she needed to be alone. And he would do so, though reluctant. And then she'd sigh softly and walk ahead.

And then there was the castle. It stood right in the center of the water, surrounded by ripples of red. It never occurred to her to wonder why the water wasn't the crystalline blue that most was. But the castle, it was curious. It made her want to enter it. Actually, it was more then a want, it was a longing. No, an obsession, that was it. She had to go inside. And so she'd walk over the water, never getting wet, her hands would grasp the stubble that made the castle's base, and she'd see it looming before her, her curiosity peaking and filling her.

The door would open silently, and she would walk up to it and look inside. But she couldn't see anything but blackness. She'd take one more step and here a thunderous pounding that seemed to grow forever louder and more menacing. It made her cringe, it made her cry, and yet she'd manage to take the last step, the one that led within the castle walls...



That was when she'd wake up. Hermione lay in bed, gasping for her breath, trying desperately to fill her lungs. She was covered in a cold sweat and her bangs were matted to her forehead.

"What happened?" she whispered, still panting.

But her mind was absolutely blank. She didn't remember anything. Not the castle, not the red water, and not the fact that she'd had this dream every night for the past month, and never once recalled it afterwards.



Potions was everyone's least favorite subject. Then again, Draco Malfoy wasn't everyone, as he so often reminded himself.

Hermione could answer any question, so long as the answer was to be found in a text somewhere. She could absorb the words right off a page, with barely any effort at all. That was, possibly, why Snape hated her so much. Maybe it was because she was friends with Harry Potter. Then again, he really hated everyone except Draco. Hermione sighed as she tried desperately to raise her hand higher without attracting too much attention.

"No one knows the answer? How very pathetic," said Snape, his tone slightly amused.

Harry was looking at Snape with absolute loathing by now. His chest was rising and falling rapidly as if he was fighting the impulse to get up and land him with one swift punch.

"I hate him," said Harry swiftly as they all rushed to exit, "I mean I really hate him."

Hermione said lightly, "It's just favoritism, Harry. Learn to cope." She leaned up against the wall and began to skim one of her books.

"Look, you only lost five points today, and you usually loose at least ten," said Ron brightly. Catching the dejected expression on Harry's face he added, "Really Harry, he's just a slimy git who wants to make everyone as miserable as he is."

"Especially me," said Harry glumly.

"Well, you deserve it," said a cold, drawling voice.

Ron moved as if to throw a punch. Draco backed up abruptly as Ron simply balled his hand into a fist and thrust it against his palm. He grinned and said, "Twitchy, aren't you?"

Draco opened his mouth to retort.

"Crabbe and Goyle aren't with you now," Harry interjected lightly.

The same thought has just struck Draco, so he satisfied himself by glaring at them in a particularly malicious manner, and then spinning on his heels and stalking off.

Hermione continued to flip through her book, but her eyes trailed after Draco. "He'd better watch his step, that one," she said softly, closing the text. "He'd just better."



Hermione cocked her head to the side, examining the stack of books.

"It's only a few extras, I'm sure I'll be able to carry them all at once. Just a matter of proper balance," she said, using her knee to shift the stack into her arms. If she hurried, she would make Transfiguration in time. If she could hurry...

"In a rush, Granger?" said Draco in an amused tone. He leaned against a bannister and coolly watched her struggle with the load of books, his own stacked in a toppling pile nearby.

Hermione tilted her head to the side and glared at him, "Just a bit," she replied coldly, still edging down the corridor. She felt her grip loosening on the bottom book.

Draco got up and moved to her front, "If I wanted, I could make you late," he sneered.

"Get out of the way," Hermione said impatiently.

He moved to the side, carelessly sticking out one foot, "Sure."

Hermione glared at him and huffily strode forward, not looking ahead. She felt her foot catch on his, and she fell over, her books scattering over the expanse of the corridor. Her chin smacked against the cold stone flooring. Draco smirked at her, "Never speak that way to a Malfoy."

"One day..." Hermione said threateningly as she rummaged under a table for her quills. She stood up hastily and walked over to him, standing so close that she could feel the heat coming from his face. He looked at her pointedly, the torchlight illuminating his pale face and grey eyes, casting the rest of him into shadow. "You know what your problem is, Malfoy?"

He looked taken aback, but quickly plastered on a sneer, "What's my problem, Granger?"

"I can't see my reflection in your eyes," she said flatly, "Why is that?"

Draco shrugged vaguely and lowered his head so that she couldn't see his face, but she knew he was smirking.

Hermione's voice was sharp. "And someday, someday I know I'll be able to. And then Malfoy, then you'll be in trouble," she stooped down and placed a last piece of parchment atop her books, then hurried down the hall.



"That twit! I swear I'm just going to do his head in one of these days," muttered Ron as Hermione explained why she was late in a hushed voice.

"He's not worth it," said Harry, "What's that, Hermione? Taking another course?" He gestured at a thin booklet wedged between her other texts.

"Of course not, I learned my lesson," she snapped, "And that's not mine. Must be Malfoy's." She pulled it out and leafed through it briefly. The cover showed an embossed sun and moon, welded together in a black sky. Each page had a single line for the date, and there was space for writing. She flipped it over and read the back of it. "Hmm....a dream book. Curious, I didn't know wizards had these. I mean, they're really a muggle thing, aren't they?"

"I haven't heard of them. Give it here," said Ron sharply. He turned the book over and handed it back to Hermione. "Bet it's full of dark magic," he said mischievously. "Why else would Malfoy have one?"

"Now, Ron," said Hermione, "It seems harmless. So long as we don't go writing in it or anything," she stopped speaking and shuddered, fresh memories flashing across her mind of their second year. "I think we'd best give it back to him."

"Give it back?" said Harry incredulously, "After what he did to you? Hermione, we can't just give it back!"

Hermione stared at him furiously, "Don't you two ever learn? I don't want anything going wrong this year! I don't want to risk my life again! And I don't want any more trouble!"

"Hermione," said Ron quietly, "It's a book."

"But we don't know anything about it! I'm sure it's dangerous and has some secret about it that..." Hermione began defensively.

"Fine, give it back to Malfoy," said Harry neutrally, "But just remember who he is. Hermione, that book has to be important or he wouldn't be carrying it around with him."

Hermione turned it over, running her finger over the cover. It was smooth and soft to the touch. "This book...." she whispered, "The sky has no stars."



It was a cool night, and the wind whistled through the trees sending its silenced whir throughout the quiet dorms. Hermione felt it wash over her as she pulled the covers up further around her neck. She flipped over and propped herself up with her hand.

"Tsk, 'seems the more tired I get, the harder it is to sleep," she yawned stiffly and reached under her mattress, pulling out the flattened booklet. The moon on the cover had begun to emit a soft glow. Hermione pressed her finger to it and immediately felt a coldness shooting throughout her body and trilling down her spine. She pulled her hand away and shook it. Her fingers tingled and were shiny and raw, as if burned. Her head began to throb and a million thoughts and pictures flashed across her mind at once. They all seemed far away and surreal, as if she knew them but never experienced them. Suddenly, her mind cleared and she was left sitting in her bed, the covers pulled up past her chin. Glancing around, her stomach dropped as if weighted, "Where am I?"

Hermione shoved off the covers and immediately regretted it. The familiar warmth and common sounds of the school were strangely absent, and it was so dark that she couldn't see her palm in front of her face. She groped for her bed, but found that it wasn't where she'd left it. There was water and dirt on the ground, she could feel it edging between her toes.

"This can't be good," she said quietly, taking a small step forward. She felt more aware then usual, and yet very tired.

"Who's there?"

Hermione felt her feet leave the ground for a moment. She wasn't alone...

"What's going on here? Listen, is this some sort of joke?" came the voice again.

"It's no joke. Who's there?" Hermione hissed the last part.

There was a substantive pause until she heard a small voice say, "Ron. Who're you?"

"Ron?" she gasped, "It's me, Hermione."

"Hermione? Oh, this is rubbish. Lumos," A soft light blossomed from the end of his wand, and Hermione saw Ron standing a few feet away from her, wearing his pajamas and looking very cross. "Any idea where we are? Because one moment I could swear I was in my bed, and then I was here, just like that." He snapped his fingers impatiently.

"I-I have no idea," she stammered, twisting her hair around a finger.

"I'm awfully tired, so can we just go back to the school?" said Ron hurriedly.

Hermione sighed, "Ron, do you think I planned this? I have no clue where we are and why we're here. So stop being a prat and help me!"

"Help you do what?" replied Ron coolly.

"Help me...er..." What was he supposed to help her with? "Help me find my wand. I think I might have dropped it when I..." she broke off, feeling rather stupid, and thinking back to when she'd woken up.

"Hermione, is there something you're not telling me?" said Ron severely. He looked remarkably annoyed compared to his usual self.

"Ahh..." said Hermione softly.

"I want to go back to sleep," Ron grimaced at her, "Now then, what is it?"

Hermione shifted uncomfortably and then felt her mouth open and the entire story spilling out. She told Ron about the moon, how she'd been burned, the visions that had filled her head, and only stopped speaking when she stammered out, "A-and then I was...here, and my bed was gone,"she paused, considering what to say and then mumbled out, "As was my wand." She chanced a glance at Ron and saw that he was looking nothing short of irate.

"Hermione, why am I here?"

"Why are..." she echoed slowly, "I don't know! I told you we should get rid of that book but you and Harry insisted that I keep it! It's a book, Hermione; Just remember who he is, Hermione. Oy, why do I listen to you?"

"I dunno, think you'd learn by now, eh?" said Ron.

"Shut up!" Hermione said shrilly.

"Okay, okay. It's not your fault, satisfied? Now can we go back?"

"I. don't. know. how." Hermione repeated, her voice shaking with frustration, "Read my lips, Ron Weasley, I haven't the faintest idea how the hell to get out of here!"

Ron looked disbelieving. "You mean, you really don't know where we are?"

"NO!" shouted Hermione.

"So, we don't know where we are, it's the middle of the night, and I'm wearing my pajamas..." said Ron.

"Don't look at me like that," snapped Hermione, catching the distrustful expression Ron was sporting. "Er...we might've sleep walked."

"I don't sleep walk, Hermione," sighed Ron, "You have that book with you?"

Hermione held up the book between two fingers, only grasping the corners. "Don't touch it," she whispered.

"Let me see it," Ron replied, making a grab for it.

Hermione backed up, her voice tense, "No, you can't. Stay away from it, Ron."

"Hermione," said Ron.

"No," said Hermione sharply.

Ron sighed, "I have a wand, you don't. Let me see the book," he said.

Hermione glared at him, "Don't you threaten me."

Ron stepped forward abruptly and snatched it from her hand. He flipped through it, and then said in a dull growl, "Hermione, how dense are you?"

"What?" Said Hermione stiffly.

"I said how thick are you? I told you now to write in this thing," he shoved it into her hand, flushing.

Hermione leafed through it and found that there was, indeed, something written on the first page. A date was printed atop in clean, red ink as well. A single sentence was scrawled in minuscule calligraphic lettering. "Hermione and Ron stand quarreling in an empty field," she read slowly. "Well, that's funny. That's precisely what we are doing now. And if you had any brains, Ron, you'd realize that I can't have possibly written that, because I haven't anything to write with."

Ron scratched his head, "Odd," he said in a gentler voice.

Hermione shot him an irritable look, "Odd? It's not odd. Ron, this book's dangerous! I knew it, I knew we should've given it back to Malfoy when we had the chance."

She opened the book again and read thoughtfully, "They continued to argue, until soon after, when they stumbled upon Hermione's wand." Hermione looked pensive and then said slowly, "My wand? Where is it, anyway?"

"I don't know and I don't care!" said Ron huffily, "I'm tired, I want to go back."

"We can't go back now, so don't even think of it. Help me find my wand," replied Hermione, "We're not even thinking of returning until..."

"Over there," interjected Ron cautiously.

"What? Where?" Said Hermione, glancing in several directions at once.

"Over there," Ron said, in more of a hiss then a whisper. He pointed to a patch of shrubbery and forest. There was a dull glow near the tree's base.

"Right," said Hermione briskly, hurrying towards it.

Ron grasped her roughly by the arm and pulled her back, "Don't." he said pointedly.

"Don't? Ron, I want my wand back."

Ron glared at her.

"Look, if we get my wand we can go back," she added.

Ron tapped her sharply on the shoulder.

"What?" Hermione asked.

He mouthed silently like a fish out of water, and then stiffly gestured towards the tree. There was nothing by the base.

"We aren't alone, Hermione," Ron breathed heavily.

"Tell me something I don't know," Hermione growled.

The wind swept about the air, making the tall grass ripple like water. It suddenly felt very cold. Hermione shivered.

"Well, let's get on with it," said Ron slowly, taking a cautious step forward. It was silent, except for the soft whispering of the field. Ron moved forward one more step. Silence. He began to walk forward, catlike, Hermione tiptoeing one inch behind him. Hermione could swear she heard an occasional murmur, but kept her thoughts to herself.

"I don't see anything," she murmured in Ron's ear.

"Be patient," he replied, "and be quiet."

Hermione was about to make a smart retort when she saw a slight movement flicker past the corner of her eye. "R-Ron," she started hesitantly.

"Mmm...?" said Ron, his eyes fixed forward.

"T-That s-sh-shadow," Hermione stammered.

"What shadow, Hermione? I don't have time for this crap. Now stop it," spat Ron.

"I'm not s-seeing things," Hermione choked out.

"Quit it," replied Ron sharply, cutting her off.

"Lumos."

Ron turned around and grinned at Hermione, "Brilliant! You found your wand, now we can..." he lowered his voice to a whisper, "Hermione, why isn't your wand lit? Where's your wand? I just heard you..." His voice trailed off.

Hermione bit her lip, "Who is it?" she said timidly.

Ron had paled considerably and said shortly, "I don't know and I don't care to find out." He then took Hermione firmly by the hand and began to walk briskly in the other direction. Hermione promptly shook him off.

"Ron," she pleaded, "please don't go, I need my wand."

Ron licked his lips and said in a choked voice, "Hermione, we just can't. It might be some horrible thing that'll eat us both."

Hermione stood her ground and said flatly, "Fine, but I'm not leaving."

"Hermione..." said Ron beseechingly.

"It's alright, Ron," said Hermione gently, "You stay here, alone in the dark, with no way to get back, and I'll go ahead by myself." she paused and added, "Or did you forget that we have no clue where we are and no way of getting back to the school?"

Ron swallowed and then said resolutely, "Lead the way."



Hermione kept searching the deepest recesses of her memory. She couldn't make out the scenery in the dark, but there was something familiar about this place. Even the sounds reminded her of some far away thought. Ron seemed to be familiar too. Well, of course he was familiar, she'd seen him every day for the last five years. But this was different, it was as if she was pulling him from some distant memory that she'd forgotten. And now, it had suddenly popped back into her head.

"Hermione," croaked Ron.

"Huh?" said Hermione, pulling herself out of her own mind.

"Over there," said Ron, his voice steadier then before.

Hermione looked about and saw a lean figure standing against a nearby tree. She could only make out the silhouette, illuminated under a faint light, but it grabbed her exactly as Ron had. It reached into her thoughts and said quite plainly, yes, you know me. She opened her mouth and said softly, "Give me my wand right now."

Ron gaped at her, "You know who that is?"

Hermione nodded fervently, "I know him. But I don't see him."

"Pardon?" said Ron casually.

Hermione shook her head and advanced upon the figure. He was still leaning against the tree, and she could now see that he had hair that was so blond it looked silver. The moon caught on it, giving off a shimmering effect against the blackness.

Hermione stepped a bit closer, Ron trailing her at a distance. It was a boy who looked about her age. He glanced up at her and flashed her a grin. Then he continued to stare into the night, twirling something idly between his fingers. Hermione felt a surge of anger as she sauntered straight up to him and looked him right in the face. His eyes were steely and grey.

"I still can't see myself," she mumbled almost incoherently. The boy glared at her unblinkingly.

Hermione pursed her lips, "Draco Malfoy, give me back my wand."