Summary: An accident during an experimental Potions assignment traps Rose in a cursed Dream that is hell-bent on making sure she doesn't come out without a broken, battered soul.

Disclaimer: Unless, through some stroke of luck, I am bequeathed with Rowling's future estate, I do not, and never will, own Harry Potter.

Dark Dreams

He was laughing at something his date was saying, and Rose could barely contain her surprise. The great, ever-stoic Scorpius Malfoy was laughing, and, of all things, seemingly enjoying a date that he had, moments ago, sworn that he would hate.

The sound of his merriment tugged at Rose's heartstrings, though tugged seemed a mild way to describe the painful, wrenching sensation that gripped her chest made her tighten her jaw. She shouldn't have listened to Al, shouldn't have followed his little nudge to take his father's invisibility cloak. However, she had been tempted with a treat too enticing to ignore – the chance to see Scorpius Malfoy, the reluctant Prince of Ravenclaw House, stumbling through another of his dates. It had happened too many times that Rose was sure that was what was going to happen this time: the rebellious Malfoy at his worst. His worst made Rose happy, not truly happy, as would a sadist, but happy because at least, she knew, that Scorpius was hers alone.

Rose clenched her fists and tried to steady her breathing. There was no use breaking down in the middle of Honeyduke's, even if no one could see her, especially if no one could see her.

She heard him laugh again, and this time, she felt the sound resonate in her ears. She was selfish, she knew that, maybe even evil. He, of course, had the right to be happy. That was the one thing Rose wanted most in the world, second to being happy right next to him. Still, it hurt. It hurt that someone was better at making him happy. It hurt that with that girl, he seemed more at ease than he had ever been. It hurt that right here, where Rose was nowhere near, he was different, happier, and better than she had ever seen him.

As she watched them, talking and laughing, she tasted salt on her lips. She wiped away the tears with the back of her hand with a deep, heavy, sigh. Maybe she just wasn't as good a friend as she thought. Maybe she was just a destructive influence. Maybe she really was just one the girls he hated, those disillusioned fangirls who were deluded in their thinking that Scorpius Malfoy actually noticed them, actually knew their names. Well, he knew her name – they'd known each other's names before they even laid eyes on each other – but deluded, she might be. Maybe all those years, acting like his best friend, she really was just some random girl who thought she was good enough for a Malfoy, even if her parents were part of the Golden Trio.

Her knees gave way from under her, with a soft thud that barely made a difference in the busy, noisy action of Hogsmeade's popular meeting place. Then, she saw it – a blur of darkness at the corner of her eye, the lack of movement right when she stopped looking. Everything had stopped moving, and a veil of shadows was moving up on her.

The Dark Dream. She was in the Dark Dream, she realized, but why would it show a scene that would surely make her want to leave? She wracked her brain for a reason, searching the room desperately for a way out of the confounded place, when her eyes landed on the couple. He was looking at her – or at least, in her direction – and for a moment, as though she weren't under an invisibility cloak, she could pretend that he was looking at her, that she made him stop and stare. Godric, she lived for those moments.

It was then that she realized why the Dream had chosen her. For a creature, a being, that dwelled on suffering and sorrow, it had to find a sustainable source of food, something or someone that could be kept hoping, wishing, despite being shown the most soul-crushing visions that any mind could conjure. She was food for the creature that fed on her own personal penance, a creature that was bent on keeping her from leaving.

Her vision blurred and darkened. She had become aware, and the creature had been forced to change tactics. She could only hope the Dream knew some form of mercy, at least. When she heard the yelling, she knew she was wrong.

"How can you be so goddamn useless?" her mother practically spat in her face.

"Can't you do anything right?" Her father threatened to throw a broken piece of glass at her face.

"Why are you so fucking stupid? Are you retarded?"

"You disappoint me."

"You are the most disgusting person I have ever met!"

"You are no child of mine,"

Rose found herself crawling, reaching out for her mother's foot in a desperate attempt to keep her from leaving. She screamed at Hermione's retreating form. Her throat dried from shouting, for penance, for forgiveness, for mercy. There were no such things in this Dark Dream.

The moment the creature knew that she knew, the scene changed, and she almost felt her heart stop. She was in the middle of a meadow, with the perfect breeze, and the perfect sky, and the perfect view. She looked up, and realized that she was lying her head on Scorpius's lap, his fingers casually brushing through her curls. He smiled down at her, and her heart almost stopped. He had such a beautiful smile.

"Rose," he whispered his voice irreverent. "My Rose, my beautiful, wonderful Rose,"

She felt her jaw quiver, both in happiness and in fear. At the back of her mind tugged the knowledge that this was a Dream, a Dark Dream, but she knew, she also knew, that the second she acknowledged that, she would be forced to leave this paradise, only her and only him, the two of them, together. The warmth of his hand, entwined in hers, was something she thought no dream could ever conjure. The look in his eyes more loved, more caring, than she could have imagined. In this dream, at least, he seemed to love her.

He cupped her face with his hand, and leaned down, as if to kiss her. The distance lessened with every millisecond, until she could feel his breath on her lips.

Then the dream changed and she found herself crying once more.

She was on a hospital bed in the infirmary, with a set of medicine bottles and flowers by her bedside table. Had someone saved her? A voice in her head was wishing that no one had. Maybe she could have stayed in the dream after all, if only to feely his imaginary warmth and his imaginary presence. If that was the only way, if only to see him look at her like that, as though there truly was something more, the life-draining Dream was worth it, if only for that brief window of paradise.

"Rose?"

She froze. That voice, his voice. No. He stood at the foot of her bed, his eyes wide in surprise. In a second, he was beside her. He cupped her face in his hands, his own face flashing with worry and concern. He removed his eyes for a brief second, a second that left Rose shortly cold before he put his arms around her in a tight embrace.

"I like this one," she whispered into the air, silently wishing that the Dark Dream would listen, even as the tears fell once more. "Let me stay in this one. I won't ask to leave, I promise,"

Scorpius stiffened in her arms. He placed his hands on her shoulders, pushing her back to see the streak of tears down her face. "Rose?" He actually looked as though he cared, and that was enough to break her.

She buried her face in her hands. "At least let me pretend," she begged. "Let me pretend that all of this is real, and I'll stay. I'll stay."

"Rose, I love you,"

The scene changed.

Author's Note: Before anything else, I would like to apologize for that unfortunate cliffhanger. I had this idea at two in the morning, and I just had to get it out of my head for my own peace of mind. Granted, it's not as good as I would have hoped, since this is actually the first fanfiction I've posted in six years, after I abandoned my other Fanfiction account.

Now that it's out, I would absolutely LOVE to have your comments/suggestions/reactions to the story. There's a second chapter idea lingering in the back of my mind. Should I write it?