A plea, from Hell.

It had been happening for three months. Hermione had been plagued with dreams of a man spread on chains, one resembling a meat hook as it held him tight punched through his shoulder. His screams for Sam echoed through her mind as her heart pounded. Terror gripped her and she was unsure why she saw these things. She twists left and right searching for the source as she hears the steady beat of approaching wings, but the source is a bright light, burning brighter than the sun in the sky and it hurt to try and look at it.

Hermione twists in the sheets as the green eyed man screams in pain, he notices that in any other situation she would consider him incredibly attractive, tall, light brown hair, muscular physique that would make any girls head turn and maybe drool a little. She hears it again, a soothing voice, barely a whisper uttering words of comfort that Hermione can see the man in chains does not hear. "Please" she begs "Please save him…" Her throat is raw and tight from screaming, the burning heat around her has her dripping in sweat, so much that her skin gleams in the molten light. She hears the voice again, calming the man, telling him that he has been sent by the lord, to have faith.

An alarm sounds through the halls, the fast approaching wings spreading terror around them, the man on the table screams louder, his voice a gravelly rasp and the energy it takes seems to drain him of life, he pales as the wings pound overhead. Terror grips Hermione and she screams once more. She jumps up in her bunk, her heart racing as her hands tremor. She looks around the tent and quietly admonishes herself. "It's just a dream, it's just a dream. That man does not exist". Even as she repeats this she casts spells, adding to the protective charms as quietly slips out of bed. The only sounds are Harry's breathing as he sits on watch and Ron's sonorous snoring. A part of her, deep within tells her that its real, that the man she keeps seeing is in desperate need of saving, whilst another chastises her, her inner swot telling her that even Professor Trelawney thought she had as much talent as a seer as she did with flying.

Using her wand she sets the kettle on the stove to boil, needing something soothing to calm her nerves. They had all been edgy since Ron had been splinched on their escape from the Ministry. Hermione knew that they could not stay in the Black family home after Yaxley had seen where they were headed. No doubt in the week that had followed it had been searched in its entirety and would not be safe for them to return.

Ron's wounds were healing slowly, but the presence of the Horcrux was weighing on all of them already. They could barely wear it for more than a day before the effects became impossible to withstand. It whispered, like an insidious worm, of ceasing greatness if only she bent to its will. Save him from Harry and it would give her anything she desired. It promised to help her bring her parents memories back, of safety for them and Hermione from Lord Voldemort.

The kettle gave a shrill whistle and Hermione jumped, quickly turning the ring off and making herself some tea. She makes a cup for Harry too, deciding being alone isn't what she needs right now. Her eyes move to rest on Ron for a moment, its pale greyish skin making his riot of ginger hair stand out more prominently, even in his sleep he seems restless, nothing that Hermione knows of healing can seem to help him find comfort and rest.

Her feelings for him are not what they used to be, all through sixth year, watching him with Lavender Brown had made her jealous, tore at her even. But then Dumbledore had died, and in a moment of need and comfort he'd kissed her, and she had felt… nothing. An emptiness so vast she didn't know what to make of it. She had tried it again when she returned to the Burrow for Bill and Fleur's wedding and she still felt nothing. One look in Ron's eyes had told her this wasn't the same for him. His eyes had shone with happiness and Hermione hated that she couldn't return his feelings.

Shaking her head she moves towards Harry, crossing her legs as she sits next to him and passes him his cup. He murmurs a thank you as she leans her head on his shoulder hooking her arm through his. The cool autumn air ruffles the leaves in the canopy of leaves above them, the slight chill welcome against her heated clammy skin. Harry doesn't say anything else, just lets her sit with her thoughts as she holds him close and sips her tea. Hermione looks out through the trees, her encounter with the snatchers the day before has stopped her wearing her vanilla scented perfume. She'd never forgive herself if her vanity was why they were caught.

An hour passes as they sit together in silence, the messy haired wizard beside her, somehow knowing she needs this silence with him by her. Harry's green eyes flicker in the darkness the light from the nearby lamp giving them a fiery glow and bringing Hermione's mind back to her dream. She huffs lightly causing Harry to meet her eyes a question in them she does not even attempt to answer. That was no dream she thought, that was worse than any nightmare she has ever had. It's as though the man she is seeing is reaching out, searching for salvation and finding her instead.

"Harry, when you dreamed of You-know-who returning, did you, did you ever feel drawn somewhere, like you're being there was vital? Like a pull from deep within?" Harry looks at her, his brow furrowing over the rim of his glasses as he watches her, making Hermione fidget. "It's okay" she hastens, "You don't have to tell me, I guess that dream just got to me". Harry shifts, the dirt shifting beneath him as he turns to face her, his face lined with concern.

"What did you see Hermione? A horcrux? A way to be rid of them or find them even?" His voice is probing and immediately her head shakes a negative, her eyes wide as her fingers twist around the cup in her lap. "No, it's not, it's not anything to do with that. I keep seeing a man, he's being tortured, and its dark, surrounded by fire, and its hot, like standing too close to a bonfire, the flames almost lick my skin. And he's calling for help, screaming for someone called Sam. He's chained with meat hooks and suspended horizontally in the air. Wings approach and it's like whatever is coming knows I am there, I can feel something touch me but I can't see it, whatever is coming is too bright and I can't see anything because of the light."

She looks at him desperately, her eyes pleading for answers her books have yet to yield to her. She didn't bring books on dream interpretation, reasoning when she had packed that it would be a useless addition to what they needed to take. It had seemed so smart then, but now, now she wished that she had taken the books, anything to stop her from not knowing.

"I know it sounds crazy and we have enough issues to be dealing with, we need to stop him, but this man, Harry it's like I know him even though I have never met him, and every time before I wake a signpost appears it says 'Welcome to Pontiac, Illiniois'. I just, I… Harry I can't keep having that dream." Harry pulls her into a one armed hug, he doesn't know what to say, He had heard her crying out in her dream, calling for a 'Sam' the panic in her voice worried him. This was Hermione, the girl who stormed out of Trelawney's classroom declaring it all rubbish never to return.

Normally he wouldn't even give nightmares a second thought, but Hermione didn't give into irrational thoughts, she found logic in everything. He didn't want her distracted not now, not when he needed her help completing this mission from Dumbledore and he knew it was selfish. This didn't have to be Hermione's fight, it was his task. She could have run with her family but she had chosen him, a humbling thought, and right now she needed something from him.

He pulls back from the hug and laughs at a rather loud snore coming from Ron inside, breaking the tension. He takes the cup in her hands and places it to the side, giving her hand a light squeeze. "If it stops these dreams do you want to head there in the morning? They won't be searching for us in the states and maybe we can find a library over there, see if we can find more information on Horcruxes." Harry didn't really believe that last part but he felt he owed her, she had saved him so many times, believed him when no one, not even Ron had. He knew he'd said the right thing when her face lit up, throwing herself into his arms and thanking him over and over. Pulling back he gave her a grin "So, Pontiac, right?"