Music to a Dream

Hermione Granger was happy most of the time when she was home. Her parents were kind and fairly wealthy though not to the point of excess. They gave her what they felt was reasonable and nothing more so she grew up fairly unspoiled. But, one day in the summer of her sixth year, she woke up, and all the happiness seemed to have been leeched from her life. She looked around her small room, glancing once at the stuffed animals lining her shelves, and then to the childish posters lining the pink walls, and was sickened. She tossed off the homemade quilt that covered her and stood up, her eyes wide and shocked. She wiggled her toes in the carpet and noted the pink chipping polish that decorated them. When she looked in her closet, she saw only children's clothes, remnants of what she now thought of as her past, though it was not so long ago.

I'm not a child. I'm not, yet, all I have strives to force me back into those times.

Her hand lingered on an old shirt, ripped and dirty with age. It was a wonder that it had not been thrown out long ago. In a flurry of activity, she discarded her bunny-covered pajamas and pulled the ancient article of clothing on. She yanked a pair of old jeans out of the closet and cut at them viciously with a pair of safety scissors until they became a tiny pair of shorts. She pulled them on quickly and glanced in the mirror. She was pleased to see she did not look the least bit childish.

She thought to herself, wondering what she should do, where she should go, for surely she could not remain here. Her pacing feet left quickly filled indentions on the floor. The room was still dark since it was fairly early but she did not dare turn on the lights for fear of her parents. What would they say if they could see her? She found herself laughing silently at the thought. She knew they would hear her if she opened the door, so that was obviously out of the question.

And suddenly, the only thing she could think about was her friends and how much she missed being with them. All that was in her mind was returning to the school which had made her mature in ways her caring parents could not imagine. She plopped down on the bed, once more wiggling her feet in the soft carpet, thinking of escape. The walls seemed to close in on her and she gasped desperately as if all the air had been sucked from her.

I have to get out out!

She forced herself to be calm, reminding herself that her behavior was not in the least logical. After a few moments , even though the walls still seemed unnaturally close, she was able to breath freely. She glanced over at her night table, complete with a unicorn lamp which glowed weakly. Beside it sat a small piece of wood, polished to a beautiful glow. Her hand closed around it hard enough to break a weaker instrument. A sense of security nearly overwhelmed her and she laughed at how ludicrous her behavior had been. Of course she couldn't leave her house at a time like this, with Death Eaters looking for any way to seize Harry. Why, if they had her, he would come running in an instant, away from the protection of his relatives' home. Away from home....

Oh, crap!

* * *

Ron Weasley stretched slowly in his bed, enjoying the chance to sleep in, something he rarely had. The house was quiet, almost unnaturally so for a family with so many members. He sat up slowly, glancing around for one of his siblings. However, the house remained silent. He jumped to his feet and wandered out of the room, looking for signs of life.

He headed to the clock, glancing at the locations it gave for his family.. Apparently, the majority of the family had gone out for groceries, though it said Ginny was still at home. He looked around once more but the results were the same.

Probably outside.

He walked to the door and opened it, wincing at the squeaky hinges. On the front steps was Ginny, wearing slightly rumpled pajamas and staring at the ground.

"Hey," he said without any enthusiasm, dropping to sit on the step as well.

She nodded slowly, continuing to stare at her bare feet.

"We're supposed to meet Mum and Dad in Diagon Alley. They left a note saying to use the Floo," she said.

Ron frowned for a moment then shrugged. He stood up, heading back in to make some breakfast before they went. Ginny lifted her head, trailing him with her eyes until he was out of sight. After a few moments, she found her eyes focused on the dirt once more. A trail of blood dropped from where she had cut her hand on a piece of glass, mixing with the dirt, with the mud.

Dirty blood, she thought. Traitor's blood.

* * *

Hermione ran into the living room, no longer worried over the noise she might make. The strong oak door slammed behind her, the sudden noise resounding in the quiet house. She tried to force herself to be calm, tried to think carefully, but all her thoughts seemed to be racing in a whirlwind. The only one she could hold onto was the danger she and her friends were in, the danger Harry was in. She walked over to the fireplace and sat down before it, resting her hands on the front of it. Less than a month ago, she had arranged for her fireplace to be connected to the floo network, in case of emergencies. She felt this was a fairly good example of one of those times. She whispered the spell to light the fire and recited the needed words to reach Professor Dumbledore.

Her breath came short and fast as she waited for him to appear and time seemed to slow to an eternity though it was but a few moments before the familiar, careworn face appeared in the burning flames before her. If there were a few more lines on the weathered brow or darker circles under his usually twinkling eyes, she was too distraught to notice.

"Ms. Granger, is there something I can help you with?" he asked calmly.

"Professor, the Death Eaters are going to try and lure Harry into a trap!" she cried.

The old wizard did not show any signs of surprise but his eyes sharpened noticeably.

"What leads you to believe this?"

Hermione paused for a moment, thinking over the sparse evidence she had and how unlikely it all seemed. But, she knew she was right, she knew Harry was in danger.

"Sir, what I am about to say may seem to be merely a silly girl's imaginings but I know Harry's in trouble," she began.

"Don't worry, my dear. I trust your judgment."

She smiled in relief and began to relate the tale, being careful not to leave out any important details. Dumbledore stayed silent while she spoke, though his face had become noticeably more solemn. Around his head, the fire crackled and snapped, but, the sounds did not distract him from the words she was saying. He was silent after she finished, his eyes lost deep in thought. Hermione, too, stayed silent, afraid to disturb the revered professor. Finally, the old man broke the silence.

"My dear girl, I'm afraid your fears are not unfounded. Earlier this morning, the Ministry noticed the use of magic around this area. Powerful magic, not the sort any ordinary wizard would be using. Most likely, it was a variation on the Imperius spell, causing you to lapse into a more malleable state of mind," he said softly, his voice weak-sounding and tired..

Her eyes widened, and she realized she had been almost wishing she had been wrong, that everything would be back to normal and Harry would be safe.

"What are we going to do, profes-" she stopped as a thought struck her.

Ron! Oh, please, not Ron!

"Ron! They're going to target Ron next!"she cried.

Dumbledore nodded wearily, his gray beard bobbing in the flickering flames.

"I will, of course, send someone to the Weasleys' house immediately.. In the meantime, stay hear and do not leave the house. I will send someone to get you and bring you somewhere safe. Tell your parents and pack your stuff. And don't worry yourself so much. It will be okay," he said comfortingly.

She was silent, trying to hold back tears, but, she forced herself to nod, though every part of her felt like falling to pieces. Dumbledore smiled warmly and disappeared from the fire. She sank back down onto the floor and buried her face in her arms.

* * *

Ron looked down at the partially burnt piece of toast before him and poked at it idly. Now that he had sat down for breakfast, he found he wasn't all that hungry. He sighed wearily and stood back up, picking up the dish and taking it to the sink. He munched half-heartedly on the toast as he tossed the plate in the sink. Behind him, the door opened.

When he turned, he saw Ginny standing in the doorway, watching him.

"Close the door or Mum will get mad," he said through a mouthful of toast.

"We need to go, Ron. Now," she ordered imperatively.

"Fine, just give me a moment, okay?" he said, finishing off the last bite of toast.

She scowled angrily, and stamped on the floor impatiently.

"Can't go in my pajamas and neither can you," he retorted.

When she remained silent, he headed up the stairs to his room, preparing to dress. After a few moments, he heard her follow his example. He looked down at the pile of robes scattered on the floor and considered his options.. After a moment, he plucked a barely wrinkled robe from the collection and began to change. After he was dressed, he ran his fingers through his hair until it stuck up in less directions. He wouldn't want to steal Harry's favorite hairstyle. He looked in the mirror for a moment, then ran down the stairs to wait for Ginny, who was always slower. However, his sister was already standing beside the kitchen table, fully dressed and ready to go.

"Come on, let's go," she ordered.

"Fine, fine. Geez, what's got into you?" he muttered.

She glared at him angrily, and he reluctantly followed her to the fireplace. He stepped in first.

"Diagon Alley!"

A few moments later, they both stood in Diagon Alley. It was still early and there were very few people moving about. The two children hopped out of the fireplace and stepped into the room.

"Where are Mum and Dad going to meet us?" Ron asked.

"This way," Ginny said, leading him out the door and through a narrow sidestreet.

He hurried to catch up, glancing around curiously at their surroundings, which were unfamiliar to him. All the doors seemed to be locked up tight and dark curtains covered the windows. All in all, it didn't seem to be the most welcoming of places. Ginny seemed oblivious to her brother's discomfort and continued leading him down the gloomy street.

"Where are we?" Ron asked as Ginny stopped.

They now stood before a small, dark building with no visible windows or openings besides the one door. It stood a small distance from the other houses surrounding it, making it appear isolated and alone. Ginny raised her hand and knocked on the door. After a few moments, it opened. Ginny walked in calmly but Ron hesitated.

"Come on," she urged.

He nervously stepped through the doorway and glanced over at the person who had opened the door. The door slammed shut behind him as he felt his heart constrict in fear. He turned to run but knew he was too late as he heard the familiar Latin words being spoken.

* * *

Harry Potter woke up early that morning, startled by some sound or movement. He looked around nervously, his mind still paranoid even after all this time. Every time he looked around his dark room, he expected to see glowing eyes, Voldemort's eyes. He knew he was acting childish, he knew he was safe at the Dursleys', but, he still checked the whole room before he fell asleep. He still pulled the blanket over his head, as if the thin sheet could protect him from the curses he knew Voldemort would use.

He sighed softly and stood up, moving to get dressed. Already, it was shaping up to be another boring day. He looked over at Hedwig, who was perched on the edge of the bed. She hooted disconsolately but flew back into her cage.

"I'm sorry, Hedwig, but, Uncle Vernon would pitch a fit if he caught you out of your cage," he apologized.

Downstairs, the doorbell rang. Harry listened as the door was opened and heard his uncle's angry mutterings and the visitor's calm explanations. The other voice was familiar.

"Harry, get down here right now!" his uncle yelled.

Harry quickly ran to the door and promptly stopped in his tracks. Remus Lupin stood in the door, nearly hidden by Uncle Vernon's bulk.

"Professor, what's going on?" he asked, knowing Lupin would not have come unless something serious.

"Harry, go get your stuff. I'll explain on the way," he said.

Harry nodded mutely and ran back to his room.

Don't let anyone be dead. Please don't let anyone be dead.

He returned to the living room with his bags and Hedwig and followed Lupin out the door. When they stood in the bright early morning sunlight, his former professor turned to him.

"Harry, the Death Eaters have been trying to set a trap for you, using your friends as bait," Lupin began.

"Are Hermione and Ron okay?" he asked, his face white with terror.

"Hermione is safe. Professor Snape brought her to Order Headquarters. However, we haven't been able to find Ron. He wasn't at his home. We've found Molly, Arthur, and the other boys, but they left Ron and Ginny at home while they went shopping."

"Oh, no, no, please...." Harry found himself whispering.

Lupin wrapped an arm around Harry's shoulder and hugged him close.

"Don't worry, Harry. We'll find them," he promised.

"But.." he started to speak and than stopped.

"Right now, we need to get you to safety."

Harry nodded and followed Lupin as he led him to the magical car that awaited them.

It's all my fault, he thought.

* * *

When they arrived at Grimmold Place, Harry was quickly ushered into the hall by Mad-Eye Moody, who glanced about wildly for any unwelcome guests. After a few moments, he closed the door and walked over to Harry.

"Sir, is there any news about Ron?" he asked.

Moody shook his head slowly and his eye rolled up into his head, leaving only the white visible. After Harry was silent for a few minutes, he turned and headed to the kitchen. Harry stood alone in the hall for a few moments and desperately tried to force away the tears that had risen to his eyes. His throat was hurting from choking back sobs and his eyes were beginning to sting quite painfully.

Footsteps rang out as someone ran down the stairs and, a few moments later, Hermione had rushed into Harry's arms. He wrapped his arms around her, desperate for whatever comfort he could find.

"Oh, Harry, I'm so glad you're okay," she sobbed.

In the darkness of the hall, the tears running down Harry's own face were virtually hidden. He stroked her bushy hair gently and wished he knew what to say.

"Hermione..." he began.

She looked up at him quickly and wiped at the tears that streaked down her face. He became silent again and stared down at the floor. She reached out and grabbed his hand, effectively trapping him when he tried to turn away.

"Harry, it's not your fault," she said.

He glanced at her, surprised she had guessed the thoughts that had been running through his mind. She shook her head fondly at his blatant look of shock and squeezed his hand tightly.

"Come on upstairs and I'll tell you what I know. The Weasleys should be here within the hour."

He nodded but couldn't help thinking of the two Weasleys he wouldn't be seeing. He followed her up the flight of stairs and allowed himself to marvel, for a moment, at the changes it had gone through since his last visit. Though still somewhat gloomy, it had lost a part of the menace it used to hold and, at times, seemed almost hospitable. However, these thoughts only reminded Harry of the situation his missing friends were in.

They're probably in the cold and dark, alone and scared. All because of me, he thought.

Hermione led him into the room she was occupying and sat down on the bed.. She motioned for Harry to do so as well and pulled Crookshanks from where he lay to sit on her lap. She stroked his fur lightly. Harry had the feeling it probably helped her to relieve some of the stress she was feeling. Harry relaxed against the bed as Hermione began telling him of the occurrences that morning.

"So, does the Order have any ideas where the Death Eaters could have taken Ron and Ginny?" he asked as she finished speaking.

"Not yet. They're not even sure how it was managed at all. There are no signs of fighting at the Burrow so I was thinking they might have been coerced into leaving like the Death Eaters tried to do with me," she said.

He nodded and stood up as he heard the sound of the door opening downstairs. Hermione walked to the door and opened. After listening for a moment, she beckoned to him.

"It's the Weasleys."

He followed her down the stairs slowly and tried to force away the guilt that was rising inside of him.