Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

For several weeks now she had had the same dream.

She was in a field, the long, golden grass swaying gently around her hips. In the distance, she could make out Harry and Ron, walking side-by-side and laughing. They didn't seem to see her. So she ran to catch up with them.

The grass would turn harsh, whipping against her thighs.

She called out. They didn't seem to hear. She ran, faster and faster, but their figures shrunk. Then she would hear a rustling. And she would whip around. And he would be standing there. Observing her.

His red eyes would regard her with curiosity, as one might watch a particularly fascinating animal in a zoo. Trying to observe it in its natural habitat. But, of course, that wasn't its natural habitat. "It's a cage."

Her eyes would widen, her lips parting, as if to deny, but knowing her own words would be false.

She would lick her lips. Because they were so dry. It was so hot. All around her, wide, empty plains of cracked, dry dirt. There was nowhere to go.

His voice was smooth. It was quiet, like fog slipping in during the early hours of the day. It's wasn't glaringly obvious. But it held presence. Undeniably there. Always there. Always around you.

"It's a cage," he would repeat. And then he would take a step closer to her. "You are always in the back. Unnoticed. You are not recognized. You take most of the work, yet no one identifies your potential. You are overlooked. And your frustrations, worries, fears. They will all eventually build up –" and with each sentence, each word like a dagger in her chest, he would take another step, the space between them dwindling, little by little, until – "until you explode."

Then the scene would change. The background would spin around them in a mad spiral, until it finally settled down. And they stood in the Gryffindor common room. Kneeling before a table in front of the fire was Hermione. A small clock sat next to her, showing the time in glowing green numbers. 2:23 am.

She was doing homework. Their homework.

"Where is your recognition? Where is your gratitude? Do you not slave away for them, every night, so that they may run off to solve mysteries in a fit of misplaced sense of heroism? And do you not solve those mysteries for them, in the end, anyway?"

She watched her dream-self wordlessly, scribbling madly in an attempt to finish three different piles of homework. Where were Harry and Ron?

"Sleeping."

And then they would appear in a dark, cold room. It was damp, the smell of mold saturating the air. The walls and floor were stone.

He was right in front of her, less than a hair's breadth away. "Why don't you let me save you? Break free from you're servitude. Break free from this cage you're in." His slender hands fleetingly caressed her cheek.

And he would lean in, just about to place his pale lips on hers, when she would wake up.

Breathing hard and her heart leaping erratically.

It was more frightening than facing Voldemort in a head-to-head duel, because, as she recalled vividly his softly murmured words and intense red eyes, her insides would stir as something in her grew restless, an animal on the inside begging to be released.

She was caged.

And it was only a matter of time until she gave into freedom.

Sort of inspired by MissusMurdur's comment on my other voldemortxhermione oneshot Monster Within, about how Hermione and Ron are always in the back seat. I hate how this turned out. I really don't like this oneshot. I want to rewrite it, but I don't want to spend the time. Reviews would be love

- Red