A.N. Dear Lord, I just realized how long it has been since I updated...it is really sad. I am getting back into the swing of things. This fic will not be abandoned.

Disclaimer: I gain nothing from this, nor do I own anything recognizable.

08-29-2013 Nothing new here ;).

Hermione stepped back to admire her handiwork. The canopy of her bed had been removed and replaced with a complicated network of blue threads from which hung various crystals, feathers, and glass beads. Most of the items she had either conjured up herself or, in the case of the crystals, created in the potions lab upstairs.

Satisfied with her work, she crawled in between her sky blue silk sheets. As she settled onto her back, Hermione reached under her pillow for the black satin bag and poured the contents into the palm of her hand. Due to the specifications of the spell, it was filled with three butter yellow scolectite, a clove of garlic, and a lock of her own hair. The stones were used in ancient spells to help people realize messages in their dreams either from themselves or from higher sources. The lock of hair linked her to the spell, and the clove was an old ward from evil intent. Most of her peers in the magical world had scoffed at some of the ancient methods, but Hermione found comfort in the old traditions. The tested methods were always the safest.

Hermione sat back up and placed the items from the pouch on her lap. This was the part that she was dreading. In order for the spell to activate she had to add her blood to the mix. It would bind not only her consciousness, but her soul to the spell. If anything went wrong or if she lost her grip on reality, she could be forever trapped within the dreams.

Blood magic was largely considered taboo, and she had only come across brief mentions of it in all of the books she had read. But there were very few things that Hermione Granger could not accomplish with a fully stocked potions lab and what seemed like the largest magical library in Great Britain. Ignoring her screaming conscience, Hermione drew Draco's wand across her hand and mumbled a spell. She winced slightly as she gripped the stones in her wounded hand and dropped them back into the satin bag once they were coated in her blood. She did the same with the garlic and the lock of her hair. Once she had replaced the bag under her pillow and settled herself into bed, the uneasy feeling refused to fade. She was not proud of her methods, but she didn't have the time to look for any other options.

Hermione sighed and gazed up at the woven strands suspended over her from her bedposts. She had added the makeshift dream catcher just for the added sense of security. Dream catchers had fascinated her when she had studied Native American medicine and magic during the last summer when the students were gone from Hogwarts. It had just seemed fitting to add the foreign magic to the spell.

She closed her eyes and tried to drift off. The crystal and spell work she had done all day had filled the room with an almost tangible magic. The air was thick with it and was almost smothering so she charmed a small, warm breeze to blow around the room. She fell fast asleep to the soft caress of wind on her face and a faint tinkling as the crystals hanging from the middle of the dream catcher rustled.

Hermione opened her eyes and found herself back in her Professor's apartment at Hogwarts. The spell had said that she would be sent into the dream world to the place the she felt most at home. Allowing herself a small moment to wander around her little haven, she found herself gazing longingly at her plush armchair in the corner surrounded by book laden shelves.

Ignoring the overwhelming temptation to just sit down in her chair and pretend the dream was real, Hermione pulled herself away from her room and focused on the dream. She closed her eyes and tried to concentrate on Harry. The book had said that the spell used your memories of a person to connect you to their dreams. The closer, in regards to experiences shared, the spell caster and the spell casted are to each other, the better the spell would work.

Hermione thought of the times she had shared with her best friend: their years at Hogwarts; their two years running from Death Eaters and destroying horcruxes; the days they would spend just sitting together trying to heal after the Battle of Hogwarts. Hermione felt the spell latch onto Harry's consciousness and felt a faint tugging right at her core, not unlike the feeling of apparition. When she opened her eyes she found herself standing in the kitchen of 12 Grimmauld Place standing right in front of the man that she had not seen in months. Hermione let out a sob and threw her arms around his neck. Harry hesitated only for a moment before wrapping her in a warm hug.

"This dream has got to be the best I have had in a long while. I wish you were really here, Hermione." Hermione felt her eyes tear up as her best friend pulled her closer.

"Harry, you're squeezing a little tight. This may be a dream, but I do still need to breathe," Harry laughed as he released her.

"I'm so sorry we haven't found you. We have been looking everywhere but no one can pick up your trail. None of the Death Eaters we have captured seem to know anything about your kidnapping. I don't know what I'll do if we lose you." His words rushed out and nearly tripped over each other. She could hear the anguish in his voice and it broke her heart.

"Harry, love, this isn't a dream," she said with a grin. "Well, it is, but I am really here."

Hermione held up a hand to silence his questions.

"Let me finish. I found a spell that allowed me to enter your dreams." Harry glared at her and opened his mouth to speak again, no doubt to tell her off. She knew the fight with Voldemort was still too fresh in his mind and the result of the spell to similar to his connection to the old Dark Lord for his comfort.

"Don't look at me like that. I know it sounds bad, but it was the only way I could think of to contact you." She watched as he tried to control his temper and was relieved when he nodded his head, indicating that he would hear her out.

"I don't have a lot of time. I don't know how long the spell will keep me here, so I will have to fill you in quickly." Harry stood there with a brooding expression as Hermione told him about her capture, her strange rescue, and Malfoy's predicament. Even after she had finished, he still said nothing. She knew that it all sounded loony and that it was a lot to process, but that didn't stop her heart from clenching in apprehension. She hoped he would not be angry with her for keeping Malfoy alive. The negative feelings between the two men ran deep and she knew neither would hesitate to eliminate the other on sight and without a hint of remorse.

"Harry?" Hermione's voice sounded weak to her own ears. "I think we need him. Malfoy is key to this war." She watched as he scowled and ran his hand through his hair rather violently.

"Hermione, I hope you are right about this. I really don't have any other choice at the moment but to trust you. I have known you for too long to try and force you, but do you even have a plan? There is no way I am letting you stay there alone with him and I don't know how to get the both of you out without revealing you to his followers." Harry heaved a huge sight and plopped down in a chair that materialized out of the dream.

"If you can figure out where you are, I can..."

Hermione cut him off.

"Harry, there is no way you can come here. I won't be able to do anything to keep the two of you from trying to kill each other. I don't think I could get you here, even if I knew were here was. I did some analysis on the house and it is hidden from any magical maps. Not only that, but there are some wards I don't even understand. Even Malfoy has to take a special potion that acts as a key to get in."

Harry brooded for a moment, annoyed at the prospect of leaving Hermione in such a crazy place.

"Anyway, the rest of the world is bound to be suspicious if you drop off of the map for too long." Harry pushed himself out of his chair, and she could see his face redden in frustration.

"Then what am I supposed to do?" Hermione walked closer to him and grabbed his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. She knew how hard this was for him. They had always been like siblings, and it was hard for him to see her in such danger.

"Harry, you have to let me do this. Once I get Malfoy's memory back, I will try to contact you again."

"No," Harry's voice was stern. "You need to contact me every four days. I refuse to sit around and wait for you to get his memories back. You don't even know how they were lost in the first place, let alone how long it will take for you to restore them."

Hermione begrudgingly agreed and hugged her best friend fiercely before saying her goodbyes. The last thing she saw before the dream shifted back to her office was the sad smile on Harry's face and the troubled look clouding his eyes.

Lucius Malfoy adjusted the hood of his black cloak further over his head as he walked through the hallway of the sitting room on the way to the private chambers of the leader. The sudden disappearance of his son and the Mudblood had sped up their plans, and he had been forced to activate the modifications on Draco much sooner than he would have liked.

When he reached the double doors of the office, he paused to knock three times and heaved open the stout wood.

"We have a problem."

The woman at the desk showed no sign that she had heard Lucius and continued to scan the papers littering across her desk, her snow white hair rained around her face like a silky veil. Refusing to show his displeasure at not being acknowledged, Lucius lounged casually on one of the chairs by the fireplace. After a few minutes with the only sound being the occasional shuffling of parchment, the leader spoke.

"I presume this has something to do with you lifting the seal over Draco without my permission?"

Lucius suppressed the urge to wince.

"His subconscious started to rebel against the spell. I had no choice. If he had escaped without the adjustment who knows what the Mudblood would have discovered." There was a pregnant pause before Lucius was addressed again.

"I do not have to remind you of what will happen if she manages to break the rest of the seals, Lucius." This time he could not cover the slight grimace that passed over his face. When he opened his mouth to defend himself, the woman lifted her hand to silence him. Lucius felt a sharp tug on his mental defenses and reluctantly allowed the leader into his mind. He took a back seat as he watched his memories of the events leading up to his son's disappearance scanned thoroughly again and again until the leader was satisfied.

When the probe was finally removed, Lucius found his hands clenched into painfully tight fists. He had always hated opening his mind to anyone. It was an insult of the highest degree and made him feel too vulnerable; a state of being he was almost entirely unfamiliar with as a rule.

"Lucius."

His attention snapped back the the man behind the desk at the sound of his name.

"You seem to be lucky as of late. Your error might work in our favor."

"What error," he asked as he watched as the leader pulled out her wand and drew it across a spare piece of parchment as she muttered an incantation that Lucius didn't quite catch. Following her wand as it traveled a jumble of symbols appeared on the page, he watched as they floated around and re-ordered themselves into the seals that outlined the modifications on Draco. When everything stilled all he could do was stare. Somehow, instead of just releasing the first minor seal, Lucius had loosened all six leaving only the seventh untouched.

"I don't understand. The only way that could have happened was if..." The leader cut him off.

"Yes, I am aware. The only way the seals could have been undone was if some part of the boy was aware of the modifications the entire time. But we can make this work to our benefit. If everything continues to play out in this direction, it will work to our advantage. When everything is clear to him, Draco should break more easily. However, since you allowed for this mistake, there is the matter of your reward."

The words made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up uncomfortably. Lucius knew he had just run out of luck.

A.N. Thank you for reading and sticking with me! I know this is a bit confusing, but it will all be sorted. Any guesses? Likes or dislikes? Feedback is golden.

Thanks to my beta, Mistwood, and my lovely friend, Adrian, who helped me with this chapter and kept me on track. You both are the best! XOXO

Summer Orchid