Trapped in a Dream

Everything was black. There was no movement, no light, only the whispering voices and - she shivered - the growling of the hungry beasts. She stumbled around blindly with her hands in front of her, trying to feel any sort of life. She could manage to see a fuzzy shape suddenly dashing towards her and, as she tried to make it out, she stumbled over something on the ground. A snarling snout came bounding towards her, its teeth sharpened and ready to clamp down on her soft, pale flesh as she tried to back away, but it was too late.

Hermione screamed in pain as the other werewolves' faces came into view, and she watched helplessly as they began to tear at her, rapidly. "No! No, make it stop, someone! Oh, no, please ..." Tears streamed down her face in salty lines, marking their path over her flushed cheeks and down her lip corners to fall off the edge of her chin.

A menacing voice sounded in her head, above the thrashing sound of the werewolves, hissing in her ear. "Give up, you can't win against me. I control you now ..." Hermione tried to shut it out, blocking her ears with her shoulder and free arm, but to no avail. The monster had begun the struggle and one way or another it would finish.

***

Hermione awoke to find herself in the hospital wing, once again. If I get out of here alive by summer I'll be lucky, she thought, rubbing her temples. Now, where's Madame Pomfrey gone? I have to get to detention before I get myself in more trouble. She stared around at the empty wing, the only light coming from a flicker in the far office on the other side of the room. A small clock by her bedside told her she had 15 minutes to go and she had already promised Professor Grace that she wouldn't be late.

As she slowly got up from bed, strange images flashed past her eyes, causing her stagger into the next bed. Something from deep inside her told her to relax and, as hard as she tried to fight it, she knew she was far too weak to fight it off. As she gave in, a stronger power took over her, passing through to her eyes and throwing a red hue into the chestnut centers. She shook herself and got dressed properly into her robes, which she noticed had been removed by someone and changed to a hospital gown. She shivered at the thought of someone seeing her in her undergarments without her consent.

The bustling healer seemed to be too busy in her office to notice the girl swiftly slip out the massive doors and out into the empty corridor, barely making a sound. It seemed strange, she thought, with all the paintings eyeing her as she marched down to the dungeons to where the professor was waiting, that even though she hadn't had a bite to eat all day, she didn't feel the least bit hungry. In fact, the only side effect had been her fainting spell, but that was before. As long as she continued to take different potions, she figured she'd never have to eat again.

Hermione slipped into the room, just as the clock ticked seven, to find it empty other than a few jars containing some of the strange objects they'd been playing with that week. A grindilow sat in the back corner by the bookshelf, looking sad and miserable behind the thick impermeable glass. Its spiky, thorn-covered head perked up to the sound of Hermione's feet and it smiled wickedly as it began to scratch at the glass.

"Aw, poor dear," she muttered to herself, raising her hand to unclasp the lock on the top of the box. To her disappointment and frustration, she discovered a large padlock bolted on to stop the little creature from escaping. "Damn it!" She pulled her wand from her robes and opened her mouth, pointing the wand at the lock, but just as she was about to recite the incantation, something stopped her.

"Just what in God's name do you think you're doing, Granger?" Malfoy's hallow voice demanded from behind her, stopping dead in his tracks. Hermione turned abruptly and snarled at him to shut up, but he was adamant. "I'm warning you, keep that ugly thing away from me or I'll ..."

"What's the matter, Draco, dear?" she purred. "Afraid it'll bite your lovely fingers off?" She smirked wickedly, taking a menacing step towards him before cackling and returning towards the tank once more.

"You think you're tough, don't you, mudblood? I'll have you know it isn't its teeth I'm worried about; I'm more concerned with it infesting my robes with some grimy muck. Between the two of you I might suffocate in the stuff." He smirked at Hermione's scowl, watching her retreat away from the tank in a huff.

"Well then." They both turned to see Professor Grace watching them from the dungeon doorway, her cloak trailing after her. "Take a seat. Now, Miss Granger, kindly explain to me your irrational behaviour in my class today."

"Why? It's not like an old windbag such as yourself could ever understand." Hermione sneered and leaned back on the chair she was in, a small wooden one made of pine with a straight back making her very uncomfortable, and stuck her polished black shoes on the professor's desk, much to Grace's astonishment.

"Try. Me." Professor Grace said through clenched teeth, shoving her student's feet off her desk while Draco watched in amusement.

"Suit yourself. Although, I seriously thought we had already gone through this in class. You can't teach. Yes, I know you thought you could," here Hermione reached over and patted Grace's arm gently in comfort at her astonished look, "but I'm sure if you ask anyone they'll agree with me. And what is that smell?" Hermione sniffed the air with a look of disgust before pinching her nose. "When was the last time you showered?" Draco's look of bewilderment slid from his face and he began making grunting noises to cover up his laughing. Professor Grace looked positively outraged at this comment, barely recognizing the fact that Draco was near choking. "Seriously! It smells like you haven't taken one in a century, I'm surprised students haven't started dropping dead."

"That will be quite enough!" Professor Grace spat, her face red and the whites of her eyes practically popping from her head. Hermione shrugged with a grin. "There will be no more talking from either of you for the rest of your detention, which will be spent cleaning the grindilow's cage out and extracting the boggart in the back closet. I assume you two are capable of handling such minor tasks as to not need my help. I will be back in one hour, so I expect it to be completed without complaint."

The two students watched as the professor took a deep breath, shoving out her chest and stormed from the room towards her dormitory, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"What the hell was that about, Granger?" Draco asked once he had recovered. Hermione didn't reply, but simply strode to the back of the room away from him and began sweeping out the bottom of the grindilow tank. He followed her, only to receive massive clumps of green slime in his face she was tossing at random. "Oy! Scourgify!" He cursed himself, cleaning his perfect black Slytherin robes of the mucus. "That's disgusting, Granger, keep your filth to yourself; I don't want to be contaminated."

"Fine then, if you don't want to help me here, you can deal with the boggart."

"No. I don't want to and there's no way you're getting me near that closet. Who knows what could come after me. And besides, I don't prefer letting mudbloods know my fears." Hermione raised an eyebrow to this in suspicion, causing Draco to quickly continue. "Not that I have any, of course, it's just that I don't like handing my enemy a possible weapon. Besides, you're the slave around here; you shouldn't have a problem doing all this."

"Suit yourself."

She plucked herself from the bottom of the cage, giving one last satisfying flick towards Draco as she passed by, watching him recoil. She went over to the counter and washed her hands of the filth before reaching for her wand again, to ensure its smooth appearance would stay that way. As she took a step towards the cupboard, her skin instantly turned mushy and slimy to the touch, perspiration developing on her lip. The air around her became cold as ice and when she touched the aged brass handles it sent a shock through her spine as the shadow burst out in a gust of wind, transforming into her worst nightmare.

The werewolf growled