A/N: This Chapter has been rewritten. No plot points have been changed in this chapter. I hope it is a little better in the writing.

Part 1

Hermione Ann Granger was not your normal teenager. She was in fact a witch who attended Hogwarts School of witchcraft and wizardry. She had just completed her sixth year at the school and was on her summer break. Due to using a time turner in her third year, her birthday had been moved up several months and was tomorrow. She was turning seventeen.

On the evening before her birthday, she was not celebrating. In fact she wasn't going to celebrate until her usual birth date. This was due to her parents. They didn't accept the fact that her birthday had changed. She would be turn fifteen in the wee hours in the mourning. Wither her parents wanted her to or not.

Her bedroom hadn't been changed since before she left for Hogwarts. It was a little girls room done up in pink and pastel colors. Her old doll house still sat in the corners with her dolls still set up to be played with. Her short book case still held her books from when she was in muggle school. The only two things allowed in her room from her new world was her familiar and her school trunk. Any time she wanted something from her new world she had to go to the trunk and get it out. But her parents would not allow her to leave her magical things out. They always had to be returned to the trunk.

Hermione slept peacefully. At the stroke of 2 o'clock, she began to dream.

She dreamed of strange things. She dreamt of a laws and births. She was at a mass wedding. She stood next to a groom. She could not see his face but he had colorful robes and a long white beard. She was screaming as she gave birth to a son. She watched as her husband played on the floor with a toddler as she was with child.

She woke up with a start. Her breathing was labored. She was frightened. Tears fell on her cheeks leaving trails down her face. She sat up and wiped her face. The dream was like nothing she had ever had before. It had felt real like she had really been there. The child birth, the pain, she placed her hand on her abdomen. It was sore. The faces of the two children flashed before her eyes. Her heart felt like it was breaking. They didn't exist. Her baby's were gone. She sobbed once than twice. She broke out in tears. Putting her face deep within her pillow, she hoped her parents didn't hear. They wouldn't understand. They never understood.

It took time but she finally calmed herself down. She laid back on her bed and took deep breaths. She had to think. She was the smartest witch she new. Which considering she didn't know that many witches wasn't exactly an endorsement. She was off topic. She took another deep breath. The dreams were different. This she knew. That meant, that meant what. Ow, how she wished shed never given up taking divination.

Divination, now that was a thought.

Was her dreams wish's? Was it simply she wanted children and a husband? Was the man she saw in her dreams simply representing what she wanted in a husband? Or were the dreams what was going to happen.

She got out of bed and went to her pink desk. Yes, her pink desk. Why did her mother love that color? Why couldn't she have a natural colored wooden desk. She took another deep breath. She had gotten off topic again.

Sitting at her unfortunate colored desk, she took out paper and pen. She was going to keep a dream journal. If, If it was a prophetic dream then it would probably happen again. If it wasn't a prophetic dream then it was her subconscious trying to tell her something. Either way, the dream journal would help her.

Writing out her dream helped her to remember more details. It also helped her to coup with what was in the dream. When she was done. Breathing deeply to calm herself, she reread it.

It helped her realize that some of her goals in life weren't what she really wanted. At the base of what she wanted was to be happy. She new that deep in her heart, she wasn't happy. Her parents house wasn't her home. She want a home. A place were she was accepted. Were all of her was accepted not just parts. A home were she could have her things out and colors she liked. A place were she could talk with out censor.

Rethinking over her dream she remembered his eyes. While he had been playing with their child he had looked straight into her eyes. They were filled with live and joy. That was what she wanted.

She was getting ahead of her self. The dream could have simply been that, a dream. She would wait. She wouldn't get her hopes up. Not unless there was a clear sign that her dream was more than a simple dream.