AN: I own nothing. Written for the Golden Snitch Forum.
Prompts:10 inches: Write about a Slytherin Character. Set around HBP
Quasi-Stellar Object — (words) a thousand miles away
A good night's sleep was Draco Malfoy's only comfort. At night, if he was spared of nightmares or insomnia, the hours of slumber were his solace. Then he did not think of what was going on in his life, what he had to do, and what would happen to him. He did not have to think about what would happen to his professor Snape, his godfather, nonetheless, and the Headmaster, Dumbledore. But sometimes, Draco would have terrible nightmares. Most times, that is. Other nights, Draco would not remember his exact dream, but he would wake up with a sob in his throat and tears in his stony eyes. It was always still dark when he woke up.
But one night, the dream was good and beautiful. Draco was on his broomstick, or was it someone else's broomstick, (that detail was not important to the dream) and flying through a night of diamond-like stars. More stars than he had ever seen, the Milky Way splayed all over the sky like a river of silver light. A warm, loving breeze ruffled his hair, soothing his spirit. A comet, a shooting star streaked across the sky, brilliant and happy. Fleecy gray clouds dimmed some stars, like a watercolor painting. The whole sky twinkled invitingly,... twinkle, twinkle little star. The whole world, full of its troubles and griefs and absurdities, seemed a thousand miles away. Draco felt bliss. The whole radiant sky was full of utter bliss. It all looked so innocent and joyful and carefree, that Draco felt his tears in his eyes again. The sky was a deep cerulean, smooth and calm.
And Draco didn't want to think about how fast he was flying. He looked down. There were lakes and lighted towns and trees, all dreamy. But Draco knew this: He was not alone. He thought about his parents, the coldness of his father's eyes, the desperation in his mother. He thought about his aunt Bellatrix, her dark hair flying everywhere, her voice cackling manically as she told him how to do the most horrible things. He thought about those Unforgivables, the Cruciatus curse and the Imperius, and the Avada Kedavra. He couldn't do those. Was it too late to stop? It was not. Was it? He wanted to repent. He wanted to change. He wanted to ditch those purebloods that he had known for the entirety of his life and get to know Potter, Weasley, and Granger. He wanted to spend his life doing something good and true and beautiful.
Draco felt hot tears stream down his face. He didn't care. He knew there was something else to life, more than what his parents were telling him to do. More than the Dark Lord. There had to be something. The sight of those stars wouldn't let him think for another second that he would be destined to be a Death Eater. It was too good. A huge, round moon was rising. Huger than he had ever seen it. Now there was even more light. Draco realized he was quite close to the ground. He dismounted his broom. The grass was soft and dewy. Insects and peepers chirped their songs, blissfully ignorant, Draco thought, of magical humans and Muggles and all the things they did to each other. The moon showed through the trees. A river was bubbling nearby. Draco walked to it. He stepped too far. His foot hit the cold water, and her jerked awake. Draco Malfoy was standing, barefoot, on the cold floor. It was a dream.
Somehow, he felt better.