Disclaimer: I bow to the greatness that is JK Rowling and in no way claim any of her characters or ideas.

The Nightmares Begin

She was floating, high above a large room, walled in wooden panels, lit only by firelight. As the room came into focus, she could see two shadowy figures; they were talking. The older man was questioning the boy. No. He isn't a boy. He is nearly a man. Roughly the same age as I am, she thought.

She couldn't hear what the two were saying, and she couldn't get any closer – no matter how hard she tried. The two seemed to be arguing. The older man was repeatedly pressing the younger for an answer, demanding information. He was getting more and more angry at his son's refusal to give the correct answer. His son? she thought. Yes, they must be father and son.

The son turned away from the firelight and she could no longer see his expression, but from the body language, she could tell the son was trying to hide something from the father. The father was yelling now, gesturing rabidly with his hands. He grabbed his son, turned him around, and held him at arms length by the shoulders. They stared at each other for a moment.

The father asked the question again, this time with forced restraint, enunciating every word. This time it wasn't a question. It was a command.

The son said nothing, but held his expression in pure defiance of his father.

The father threw his son to the ground and pulled his wand from his robes. His next word she heard very, very clearly.

"CRUCIO!"

A stream of red light hit the son in the chest, he screamed and writhed in pain. The father released the spell and asked the question again.

The son, sprawled on the floor, spat at his father's feet. Once again, red light shot from the father's wand.

"CRUCIO!"

The son's face twisted, his body convulsing in sheer pain. She started to feel sick, witnessing the torture of this poor young man. The father released the spell again. "Last chance." The father hissed the warning at his son. The son just held his father's gaze, challenging his father to try again, to kill him.

"CRUCIO!"

The son screamed. She screamed. She could feel his pain all over her body, in her hands, in her head, in her heart. So this is what it feels like to die. And at the hands of my father. She heard the son's thought in her head. His father released the spell and she heard his parting words, "Yes you will, son. Or he will kill you."

His father left the room through a great wood door opposite the fire. As the door opened, a stream of light shone into the dark room from the hallway, like a ray of hope. The son was lying on the floor, face toward the ceiling. He was gasping for breath, and sweating, his eyes closed. When he opened them, she found herself staring into the steely gray eyes of Draco Malfoy.

Hermione shot up in bed so quickly, Ginny jumped back in surprise. Hermione's heart beat wildly and she was sweating. Her wavy brown hair stuck to her face and neck. She felt a very heavy weight begin to lift from her shoulders.

"Hermione! Are you okay?You were screaming!" Ginny's face was stricken and incredibly pale. She took Hermione's hand. "Hermione? Were you dreaming? You were screaming so horribly."

"Ginny?" Hermione was confused. She looked at the ten anxious Gryffindor girls around her. Her mind was still in the study Lucius had just left, the study where Draco was sprawled on the floor. "Ginny?" she asked again, trying to regain her bearings. Hermione managed a weak smile for her friend, and pushed the hair out of her eyes. "Yes, Ginny, I'm alright. It was just a nightmare."

"But you sounded like you were in so much pain," replied Ginny, quietly, still very worried.

"Really," Hermione patted Ginny's hand, "I'm okay now. It was just a nightmare," she said again, trying to convince Ginny – and convince herself – of that. "Go back to bed. If you promise not to worry, I will tell you all about it tomorrow."

Ginny eyed her friend warily. She knew Hermione was lying. She was not okay. But, as there were nine other Gryffindor girls standing around them, Ginny agreed, and padded back to her bed.

The other girls did the same, and Hermione flopped back on her bed, arms outstretched, staring at the ceiling. Not unlike Draco, she thought and trembled, remembering the pain she had felt on his behalf. Her body still ached. How? How could a father do that to his own son? she asked incredulously. Hermione turned on her side, and hugged her pillow for comfort. She knew she would not sleep again tonight.

Neither would Ginny. Her mind reverberated with the echoes of Hermione's screams. Those were not ordinary nightmare screams. She was really in pain, Ginny thought. Can dreams really cause pain like that? Harry had felt pain when Voldemort had possessed his mind; were those nightmares? Ginny turned on her side and looked at Hermione's bed. Lord! She had sounded like she was being tortured.

Ginny saw Hermione sit up on the edge of her bed and sigh. Her bare feet did not make any noise on the cold, stone floor as she tiptoed out of the bedroom. Where is Hermione going?

After ten minutes, when Hermione did not return, Ginny went after her friend. She found Hermione sitting on the couch in the common room, her arms wrapped tightly around her legs, her chin resting on her knees. She was staring into the fire.

"Hermione?"

Hermione did not move. "Ginny. I don't think it was a dream. I think I was in someone's memory."

"Whose memory?" asked Ginny.

"Malfoy's." Hermione explained the entire memory to her friend and Ginny gasped when she spoke about the unforgivable curse.

"I haven't even told you the worst bit yet. You know the man torturing Malfoy? It was his father." Hermione shook her head.

"My God," whispered Ginny, her eyes wide in shock. "Are you sure it was not just a dream?"

"I've never felt pain like that in any normal nightmare, Ginny. I have no idea what to make of it. I don't know if it truly happened or if my imagination is trying to find a reason to feel sorry for Malfoy."

"So that's what you meant when you talked about being in Malfoy's head," said Ginny. Hermione nodded.

"You could always talk to Harry, you know. He's had dreams that weren't really dreams, remember?" Ginny offered.

"No," Hermione said resolutely. "No one is to know about this. Promise you won't say anything?"

"For now," Ginny replied. Hermione nodded. "Thanks." Both girls sat in silence, gazing at the fire, until the room grew bright with the rising sun.

thanks to Festis and Karone-sakura for reviewing!

Authorette Note: Please keep reviewing! I need inspiration to keep writing. I've edited and reworked the next few chapters enough, and they're almost ready for posting... but I'm stuck on storyline a few chapters from here, HBP really messed with my head! This is my favorite chapter. I wrote it first. I wrote the dream sequence in about seven minutes and haven't edited it at all. (The tough part was writing backwards to find where to begin the story:)