A/N: Not beta read and rather silly story. For Vicky (Miss RSS) who gave me the prompt for it. Please, tell me what you think. (:

"People think dreams aren't real just because they aren't made of matter, of particles. Dreams are real. But they are made of viewpoints, of images, of memories and puns and lost hopes."

- The Sandman

The floor was made of shining, lustrous wood, there was a beautiful chandelier above her head and a lovely song echoing in her ears, so different from the noise of wind, the dusty ground and the dirty floor from the tent where she and Harry were staying in the middle of the Forest of Dean. Her clothes were different too… She was no longer wearing her ragged jumper and jeans but a pretty red dress that went until under her knees and her hairs was actually well styled. And she felt clean, as if she had actually taken a decent bath, something she didn't have the chance to do in days since they ran away from the Ministry.

Still looking around, surprised by the unknown place, Hermione felt a pair of hands resting on her waist and jumped at the feeling, only to be held in place by someone who was standing behind her.

"You look astonishing, Miss Granger." She felt a shiver run down her spine as a man's voice reached her ear, slow and low, before turning her head to see a young man who seemed to be on his early twenties looking down to her. "I dare to say you look even better than on the occasion of the Yule Ball."

"Who are you?" the girl whispered when one of the man's hands found her own, spinning her around until she was face to face to him. It didn't take a long time for his hands to find her waist again.

"Someone who is really interested in you, my dear." Hermione narrowed her eyes as she watched a smile tug on the corners of the stranger's lips. His blue eyes shinned with something she couldn't quite name and his whole image seemed to have come out of an old movie. "Not that it is a difficult task to be interested by you."

The witch felt her face blush and lowered her head, hearing a delighted laugh coming from the man who was now reaching for her right hand with one of his own hands while the other remained on her waist.

"Oh, don't be like that," he said, pulling her along with him in some kind of clumsy dance. Or at least it was clumsy when it depended on Hermione's movements. "Just because Harry and Ron can't see it, doesn't mean you are not interesting."

"What?" She raised her head once again, looking into his eyes. They were way too bright, she thought, and she couldn't decide if they looked cold or warm.

"I'm not saying your friends are bad people… No, far from it, but it is true that they don't give you all the credit you deserve."

"How do you know Harry and Ron?"

"I know a lot of people, Miss Granger." He smiled and, once again, she felt her cheeks burning. Cursing herself, Hermione tried to calm down. She had already passed the time when it was acceptable to blush like a silly girl in front of handsome men. "And I know a lot of things too, like how you are a brilliant young woman who deserved way more than to be in the middle of a forest with her friend who seem to think he's the only one who knows what is right or wrong."

"Harry is just… He's stressed, there's too much happening right now." She shook her head and sighed. "Where am I?"

"Where indeed!" Another laugh escaped from his mouth and it almost made Hermione relax. "Can't you think of a place that looks like this?"

"Actually… No."

"Right here." The stranger let go of her hand and touched her forehead with the tip of his index finger. "And here." He then pointed to her chest.

"It's all in my mind?" The girl furrowed her eyes, stepping away from him.

"And your heart, of course. What? Do you think your dreams are not made of emotions too?"

Hermione felt her stomach drop. For a moment, she thought it was all real – actually, she kind of hoped that it was all real -, that she was no longer in the middle of the Forest of Dean, that she was in the company of someone else than Harry, that her parents were somewhere near that pretty ballroom where she stood…

"Why the sad face, Miss Granger?" asked the man, cupping her cheeks and raising her head until she was looking at him with watery brown eyes.

"It's nothing, I'm just being… Silly." She laughed, sadly, and sighed.

"It's not silly to be afraid, dear."

"I'm not afraid."

"It's typical of a Gryffindor to deny being scared," he whispered. "But the bravest men are the ones who are afraid. Fear fuel bravery."

"You think so?"

"Positive."

Harry was grumpy as always. She was sitting outside the tent, reading The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore, and trying to ignore her friend's awful mood as the thought of the unknown man from the ballroom appeared in her mind again. It had been two days since she dreamed about him and the only thing Hermione could want now was to sleep and see him again. She thought it was a silly wish, something a little girl would do, but, in her situation, her sleep was the only time during which she could allow herself to stop thinking about the whole mess in which they were involved, it was when she could stop looking at Harry's tired face and finally stop worrying about him, it was when she could relax even if just a bit.

"You look tired."

"Merlin's beard!" Her hand flew to her chest as she heard a voice right next to her. "You!"

There he was again, the man from the dream, sitting next to her on the wet leaves and smiling.

"Hello again."

"Oh, no… I'm sleeping, aren't I? I shouldn't be sleeping, I'm standing guard!" Hermione shook her head. "Wake up, Hermione, wake up!"

"You should sleep. Harry is awake and there are a lot of powerful spells around the place," said the man. "It was you who put them up, right? I can recognize your magic."

"You're a dream, you can't recognize anything," she grumbled, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

"Are you all right, Miss Granger?" he asked, leaning his head to the side and watching her with a worried look on his handsome face.

"Do I look all right?"

"No," he answered promptly. "You look scared, tired. You look broken."

"We're all broken nowadays. Harry, Ron, me…" Hermione took a deep breath, feeling her throat tighten. As if to shoo this feeling away, she looked up to the man and laughed. "I've been talking with you and I don't even know your name."

"I don't have a name." He shrugged.

"Everyone has a name."

"I'm your dream, I don't have a name if you don't give me one," he explained, letting his fingers reach for her arms, unfolding them until he could hold her hand in an affectionate way. "Until now I'm just the 'dream bloke' for you."

"I should give you a name?" The girl bit down on her lower lip, trying to think of something. "What about Morpheus?"

"Quite predictable." He laughed. "But I do like it."

"Good! So be it. Your name is Morpheus."

"Like the god of dreams," the man whispered, gently caressing her fingers.

"Yes." Hermione smiled. "Like the god of dreams."

The witch kicked the corner of the old armchair and growled. Harry had practically said she was being useless thanks to the fact she couldn't find anything else about how to destroy horcruxes. What did he expect? That the books had it all printed in large, colourful words 'WAYS TO SUCCEFULLY DESTROY A HORCRUX' or something like that? She knew enough about books to know that dark books like the ones she was using for her research never put all the information they had in openly on their pages… The author may have put a few methods of destruction there but there was, for sure, a few more hidden in between the sentences and on the illustrations, it was a common thing to happen. Harry couldn't blame her for not finding everything right away, especially because if he was the one researching, he wouldn't even find the chapter regarding the horcruxes.

Stomping around the tent, she reached her bed and let herself fall on the top of it, holding down the sobs that tried to make their way up her throat as she pushed the locket of Salazar Slytherin under her shirt. Even though Harry was outside, standing guard that night, she didn't want to risk being found by him in that state. The witch rolled onto her side, closed her eyes tightly and stayed like that for a long time, listening to the crickets outside.

"Are you all right?"

"No, I'm not." She didn't even bother to be surprised by the man's voice that suddenly sounded next to her.

"It's okay not to feel all right, you know? Everyone has their bad days." Hermione felt a hand caressing her shoulder and finally let a sob escape through her lips.

"But it's not all right for me to regret coming with Harry, right?" she whispered, her voice shaking. "I don't want to be here anymore, I want it all to end. I want to go back home!"

"Shh." The hand was replaced by a arm and the witch felt the man's body pressing against her back as he hugged her. "It's all right."

"I want my house, my room." She sobbed. "I want my parents. I want to at least know they are okay!"

"You know they are, dear." Morpheus' soft voice whispered in her ear. "You sent them to a safe place and, once it all end, you'll be able to go meet them again."

Hermione didn't say anything after that; she simply stayed there, in the man's arms. Harry was not there, nor was Ron, it was only her and her dream, and she could weep in his presence because he was her, he was part of her and he wouldn't mind to see the though Hermione Granger crying, he wouldn't mock her for being sad like Ron had done when he asked her for the Yule Ball as a last resource or when he said she was so annoying she would never have friends.

The girl didn't know for how long she slept but she couldn't help but feel a little better when Harry woke her up, telling her it was her turn to stand guard outside.

It had been four days since she last saw him. She couldn't stand it anymore: her dreams were empty, just a dark pit and nothing more… And Harry wasn't helping. The boy was getting angrier and more irritated each day that passed and she knew it was because of Slytherin's locket he was now wearing.

"Give it to me!" She watched as Potter grabbed the locket's chain and tossed it at her, grumbling something before walking away. Hermione watched as he entered the tent before turning around and walking up the limits of her wards, sitting down against an old tree and sighing. The witch closed her eyes and took a deep breath as she put the locket's chain around her neck and tucked it under her scarf, feeling a wave of calmness wash over her. Now everything was all right, Harry was not wearing the horcrux and, therefore, was soon get calmer.

"Feeling better?"

She opened her eyes and smiled as she saw Morpheus sitting next to her.

"Yes. Did I just fall asleep again?"

"You may be feeling better, Hermione," he said. "But you're still tired. It's not surprising you fall asleep each time you lean against something."

The man put his arm around her shoulders and the girl nuzzled against him.

"Thank you for being here, Tom."

She felt the other stiffening against her and furrowed her brows before realizing something was not all right. The man didn't answer and his body was rigid, as if he was afraid of moving. And… Wait, did she just call him…?

"Why did I call you Tom?" Hermione got away from him, staring at his face. The man's eyes looked at something in front of them and his blue irises looked somehow different now.

"You must have mistaken me for someone else," he said, his voice sounding hollow.

"But… It's completely different from Morpheus." He turned to look at her and stretched his arm out to reach for the locket showing from under her scarf.

"That's a nice little thing you've got here," the man whispered, his fingers closing around the locket.

"Tom… Why did I call you Tom? You look nothing like a Tom and the only Tom I know is the barman from the Leaky Cauldron and…" Hermione stopped speaking abruptly and her eyes widened as she stared at the man in front of her. "Tom Riddle."

"Who?"

"You," she whispered, leaning away from him but not enough to make loosen his grip in the locket. "Oh my God… Tom Riddle."

"I can actually thank you, Miss Granger," he whispered, dropping the locket and raising his head. His lips were stretched in a smile that looked way too different from the smiles she had seen before and his eyes looked dangerous. "For giving me a way more interesting name than that stupid name of my Muggle father."

"Stay away from me…" The witch took her wand from her pocket and pointed it at him.

"And it actually suits me, doesn't it?" He chuckled. "I mean, I do, indeed, put people to sleep… Although the sleep I provide them is everlasting. Oh, don't bother, dear, you can't hit me with a spell. I am you, remember? I am part of you. I am here." He brushed his fingers over her forehead and, then, over her chest. "And here."

"No… No, no, no!" Hermione grabbed the chain and took it out of her neck, throwing it on the floor far away from her and pointing her wand at it. "Incendio!"

The locket caught on fire and the girl watched as the flames involved the object, feeling her body shaking and a sob escaping from her mouth.

"Hermione!" She looked up to see Harry approaching her, running and looking worried. "Hermione, what happened! ?"

The witch turned around to look at where the man was standing before, only to see that there was no one there. It was only her and Harry now.

"Nothing, Harry," she whispered, looking at her friend and giving him a sad smile. "It was just a bad dream."