Draco Malfoy woke with a start, in a cold sweat. His white-blond hair stuck to his forehead and his steely grey eyes were opened wide. He breathed deeply, remembering the dream that woke him up…..
Draco's cold pale hand slid down a pale soft cheek. He pulled his hand back up to the other person's temple and removed the round glasses to gaze into emerald eyes. Harry took in a sharp breath as Draco began to nibble at the base of his neck.
"Scared, Potter," he muttered into his ear.
"You wish….."
The tall seventeen-year old sat up in bed. He tried to put the dream out of his head but it didn't work. It would be easier to forget if it wasn't so pleasant. It had been an excellent dream. It was so real, yet so incredible. Potter hated Draco, and that would never change. Draco sighed, "If only…"