She was back in that damned place. Laying on the floor she knew what was coming and she was filled with immense dread.

Cold floor. Dim room. Footsteps. Dark, terrible footsteps coming toward her. She shook where she lay, knowing she couldn't escape, couldn't get away, couldn't stop what was coming. She was utterly helpless.

Those eyes. Those awful, black, horrible eyes. They were filled with seething hate, and it was all directed at her. Why? What had she ever done to merit this other than just be born, born who she was.

Bellatrix was coming toward her, laughing her awful, sadistic laugh. That laugh cut almost as much as the knife she knew was coming.

Hermione tried to lunge away. Away… I need to get away! But no. Bellatrix grabbed her hair and half lifted her up, forcing her to stare directly into her warped and twisted face. A face full of sadistic joy. She was a monster that revelled in the pain of others, the pain of Hermione. How could she be happy doing what she was doing, knowing all the horrors she had already done.

Suddenly she was wielding a terrible, jagged, cursed knife that glistened in the moonlight shining in the small skylight window above them. With an unbelievably strong grip, she grabbed Hermione's forearm, and whispering cruelly in her ear, Bellatrix hissed, "This mudblood, shall be your marking. It will always define you, reminding you that you are nothing. Nothing I tell you. You are the lesser one. You always have been and you always will be. Well, for the short amount of time that I will keep you alive that is. But before we get there… it's time for my fun."

As the knife made contact, Hermione felt pain coursing through her. Horrible, monstrous pain. The words being carved into her arm, were marking themselves into her heart, just as they were marking her arm. She was writhing and screaming, the pain overtaking her with fiery force.

But suddenly something new happened in her dream. She heard a soft, soothing voice calling out to her, practically singing, as if from the sky or the moon itself.

I hear you, brave one. Help is coming. Hold on, for we need you. Don't give in my brave one. Hold on Hermione Selestra. We need you.

"Mia! Mia! HERMIONE! Wake up Hermione! It's just a dream. I'm here Mia! I'm here. Wake up! Come back to me MIA!"

Lunging awake, Hermione's body slowly calming, and she panted, regaining her breath. Her throat felt sore. She must have been screaming again, she thought.

Daring to open her eyes fully, she looked up into the worried face of Charlie.

She shot up and lunged into his arms, sobbing.

Charlie held her close to him, rubbing her back, and hugging her close to him as if fearing that if he wasn't holding her she would slip away.

When her sobs had subsided, and she had cried all of her tears, he softly stated.

"You were having a nightmare Mia."

She nodded into his chest, unable to manage her voice just yet.

"I thought the dreams had stopped?"

Still curled up in his chest, she gingerly tried her voice, responding softly, "They started again… a lot."

"When?"

"After the attack at the bonfire."

Charlie stiffened, a wave of hatred for Steve washing over him for having brought back her pain. He pushed forward bravely, feeling that she was going to open up to him about the pain she so carefully masked at all times. He asked,

"You were dreaming about Malfoy Manor weren't you?"

Looking up at him, surprise apparent in her face, she questioned, "How do you know about that? I didn't tell anyone."

Running his hand through his hair, a nervous trait that had plagued him since childhood, he looked down and explained, "In your year on the run, when you three showed up at Shell Cottage, while you were still unconscious, Bill flooed to Romania, asking for my book on Dragon Lore and for some Essence of Baklunawa. He told me what he had observed of your state. He knew about Bellatrix's knife since he had studied it in his department when her assets had been seized during her incarceration. He wasn't sure, but, knowing she had stolen many of her possessions back, his best estimation was that Bellatrix had used it on you, and thought that maybe the potion would help with your recovery."

"Baklunawa? Isn't that a type of dragon? I feel like I read about that somewhere…"

"Yeah. It's an extremely rare type. Legend has it that when magic came to earth, as a large serpent the Bakalite, a giant mythical sea serpent much like a Basilisk but even greater, attempted to eat the moon at its lowest point. Legend says that at that very moment, a piece of the moon fell to earth, much like a meteor, and as the Baklunawa ate that piece in the light of the lunar light, the moon took over the body of the Bakalite, reshaping its being. The essence of the lunar being integrated with the serpent being, and the Baklunawa dragon was created. However, as the new being was formed, its serpent fangs fell from its jaw, the last of its dark magic left behind in those pieces. Bill wasn't sure, but he thinks somehow, the knife that Bellatrix owned had bits of this fang in it, or that the poison from the fangs had somehow been woven into the blade. He never got a chance to prove it though since the last reported sighting of a Balunawa was about three hundred years ago. Not many notes are left about this creature, although Romanian dragon explorations have discovered scales from these dragons, allowing our particular reserve to be able to keep a small store of Baklunawa Essence, also known as Selenitorus, on hand."

"So, Bill brought some of the Selenitorus back to help me?"

"Yeah. He said they were having a hell of a time reviving you, and I guess Fluer had studied the mythology of early magic, and mentioned the potion as a possibility, so Bill quickly came here. I never heard all of what happened, but Bill did mention that the potion is finally what brought you back."

Hermione mulled this over. She couldn't quite place her finger on it, but she could feel that this new information was of great importance. But why? What could it have to do with her dream… Her dream! It was different this time. There was a voice. She had been woken as she heard that far off voice. Was it Charlie calling out to her? No… it had called her 'Brave One'... that had a connection to someone else… something else… She wasn't sure where or how, but she knew that she had heard that voice before. And then it hit her… that was the voice that had called her to Romania!