Dreams of Lust and Love
Disclaimer: No, I don't own any of this. Yes I do wish I did, but no. It all belongs to the good ol' Rowling and her brilliant mind. I just borrow her ideas.
Author's Note: Have I not written in a long time? I know. It's been ages and ages but I've been busy with a million other things and I haven't had a time to sit down and write. So, rather then continue on an old story that I doubt I remember where I was headed I got a brilliant idea at four am this morning and started to write later that afternoon when I got a moment. I will try my best to keep up with this one! So feel free to yell at me all you like when I'm not and I'll make the time to sit down and write for a change. Aye?
Summary: This is a story about two people who are conflicted not only in emotions, but in ideals and sides. Where will he stand? Where will she? In the end will they be torn apart or tossed together in a struggle for love and light, or hatred and darkness?
Her fingers brushed across his pale skin, chiseled as if from white stone, firm beneath her touch. She felt his fingers skim the length of her arms and then the backs of his fingers brush across her cheeks, though his touch was feather light. It was a gentleness she didn't know he possessed. The gentle touches made her lips curve just slightly upwards in a soft smile and a languid sigh to pass her lips, brushing across his cool skin. As her slim fingers moved up his chest, she brushed them tenderly across his neck to lace behind it, allowing her thumbs to brush along the fine hairs at the base of his neck. He shivered from both her velvety caresses and the dreamy sigh that brushed across his chest.
His fingers brushed back through her brown, curls, weaving his fingers into the locks and tugging her head backwards so her chocolate brown eyes looked up into his stone grey eyes swimming with not only wonton need, but something not discernable from her perspective. Slowly, almost agonizingly he lowered his soft, pale lips down to her own supple pink lips. This small and faint kiss had her reeling, she pulled his head closer to hers, pressing her lips firmly, bruising both sets without a doubt. But her mind was gone; the reasonable side of her had flown out the window some time ago as she found herself pressed tightly to him. Her heart was racing in her chest and she could hear it beating within her own ears.
She had never felt so aroused and out of control as she did now. Something inside of her had finally snapped. Perhaps it was him. His smell, his smirk, his eyes, his skin, she could go on and on about it. It all made her weak in the knees and now here she was pressed against him in the dormitory they were forced to share for the year. Her bare skin pressed against his felt on fire, anywhere his fingers traveled was like small ripples of flame moving across the flesh and took her that much further away from reality.
He knew she was out of control now, but he was in no better condition. Her hair, body, scent had all sent him over the edge. Her naked skin pressed against his firm chest caused involuntary shudders to move down his back and press into her, making it known what he wanted from her. He knew she was willing, and wouldn't resist. As he pulled his lips slowly from her own he moved his fire-like kisses down her neck, kissing down and flicking his tongue slowly across the lightly tanned skin. Her head tilted to the side for him and a soft groan of approval let him continue to move his kisses down, sucking gently along the flesh leaving only slight red marks that would be gone before morning.
Slowly her hands moved down his sides, working at the button of his pants, and then the zipper. Sliding his pants down he stepped from them, leaving him in nothing but boxers. She smiled a wicked smile, letting her fingers gently press against his groin, causing him to growl into her ear gently. "You'd best be careful, you don't know what can happen if this continues." However, she only pressed against him again, leaning up to softly flick her tongue against his ear lobe, whispering into it, "I know exactly what will happen if this continues. And I'm not about to stop now." Smirking against his ear she shoved him back onto the bed, straddling his hips. He looked up at her with a grin full of, not only lust, but interest. His eyes danced as they slowly began a night's adventure.
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Two teens woke up in a sweat, hair plastered to their faces bodies shaking as if the dream had been a reality. Hermione Granger ran her hands back through her hair and lets out a discontented sigh. Draco Malfoy, across the hall, was doing exactly the same thing. These dreams had been persistent. Each night these dreamed kept increasing more and more in intensity. But neither of the two thought anything of them, at first. It became normal to wake up after dreaming about the other, but it was nothing compared to this nights dream. Something was up, something they didn't know anything about and each was ready to pounce on the other right this very second.
Hermione swung her legs around her bed, not caring what she had on, or didn't in this case. She threw open her door and stood in the frame, glaring at the blonde head that was looking back at her. Storming up to him she prodded a finger into his chest and glared, evidence of the dream still present from her tousled hair and the small beads of sweat that ran down her neck, disappearing between things that Draco had only seen in his dreams.
"You indignant little prat! What did you put into my pumpkin juice at dinner? I knew it was suspicious that you would so casually walk over while my back was turned for just long enough. What did you do?! I'm tired of these dreams, more like nightmares." She was puffing by the end, her cheeks red with anger, and even a tinge of embarrassment to admit to Draco Malfoy that she'd been having dreams about him.
"I could ask the same of you, Granger. Though I would love to hear more about this dream you've had of me." His smirk stretched across his features and his eyes danced with mischief. Hermione swatted his arm and then proceeded to cross them beneath her chest, glaring at him. He held up his hands in innocent defeat. "I don't know what you're talking about, Granger. I did nothing to your pumpkin juice when you weren't looking. Besides," he shifted uneasily about what he was going to confess, "I've been having dreams too. Ones that make me wake up with a little surprise first thing in the morning." He gestured downwards and Hermione, thinking little of it glanced down before a blush crept across her cheeks. This only increased the smirk on Malfoy's face as she walked away from him and sat down on the forest green couch.
Drawing her legs up to her chest and picking up a soft golden pillow beside her rested her chin on her knees, hugging the pillow against her chest. "I want to know why I'm having these dreams." She looked towards Malfoy, brow furrowed with concern and thought. "What have yours been about, Malfoy? And no jokes, be serious." She gave him her best "You'd better do what I say or I'll hex you into next month" look and he sat down in a chair beside her and shrugged a little bit, lacing his long fingers across that chiseled chest Hermione had only just been dreaming about, causing a shiver to run down her spine as she directed her gaze else where.
"Hardly anything appropriate, Granger. But if you really want to know then I'll tell you." He frowned slightly as he thought back to the beginning, when these strange dreams began happening. "At first they were innocent dreams, I thought it was nothing more then my mind getting the best of me while I slept, dreaming about you walking and laughing and smiling. Whether it was with or around me or with those two dolts you call friends." At that Hermione sent him a sharp glare and he simply shrugged, continuing on with the dreams. "But as time went on they became less and less…innocent. Suddenly there were kisses with you pressed up against walls in deserted corridors, and touches and moments that would cause any normal male a hard time keeping himself in control.
The last couple of nights have been some of the most intense, like they were really happening. To say that clothes stayed on would be a lie. They would come off faster then I have ever seen a girl attempt to get into my pants before. But it was mutual. And it was a…" Malfoy trailed off and Hermione raised an eyebrow at what he almost said after that. He shook his head a little bit and scowled at her, jerking his head upwards towards her. "And what about you?"
She frowned, still, looking at Malfoy before looking away and staring into the embers that were once a roaring fire. Her voice was small, not angry or dreamy, but almost regretful. "They were… the same. More and more vivid as the time has gone on. And," she blushed here, innocence still evident despite the dreams, "with equal passion you could say." His scowl softened at her obvious discomfort with this situation. They had been living in the same quarters for going on four months now. Though they hadn't been kind to each other, the hateful words and arguments were limited. There was a mutual agreement between the two and would sometimes even sit down late at night for an evening chat. It had become an almost weekly, and not unwelcome, event. Though neither of them formally announced these meetings, it was routine to meet Saturdays after a long day of being with others to talk about the week and their duties and life in general.
Sometimes these little meetings would turn into small bickering moments where Hermione would stalk off to her room in a huff only to come down five minutes later and apologize for getting so worked up. Those were weeks when her and her friends had been fighting, or when school had piled loads of work on them. Tensions would be high if Malfoy ever brought another female on a Saturday night. Hermione would almost be affronted, as if he had pushed her aside in order to sleep with some other whore. Though she didn't understand this possession she felt for him on those days, she logically thought it through and decided that it was only because he was her only real release from the week of school and friendships going awry. He understood her in many ways, and yet in many ways he didn't understand her at all.
"What are we going to do about this, book-worm?" His tone wasn't harsh, or commanding but more troubled and quiet as if not wanting to break her from her own thoughts. She glanced up at him and then slumped down in her seat and sighed, closing her eyes.
"I have absolutely no idea, Malfoy. None at all." This was painful for even Malfoy to watch. She seemed defeated by these dreams; a sense of utter lack of being able to understand what was going on and why. Were they clues? Hints? Maybe someone was trying to tell them something and they were too blind to see it. They didn't know, but they did know that whatever it was was causing a lot of unwanted tension between them.
Those words and that look on her face caused Malfoy to slowly rise from his chair and sit beside her. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and her head instinctively fell against his shoulder and she curled against him, as if seeking solace in this moment of kindness. He didn't know what caused him to do this. Why he felt bad for her when he was suffering from the same tormented, perhaps even worse ones. But he couldn't pretend to know what it was like to be constantly at odds with friends, he didn't have anyone that he considered enough of a friend to care whether or not they fought with him or not. On top of that, she was Harry Potter's best friend. That had to be pressure enough.
Malfoy frowned as he felt a drop of water hit his chest, he looked down at the bushy haired girl so curled against him and a pang went through him. He had seen her at her worst and her best. Waking up feeling absolutely horrible and still going to classes that day, only to come back to the common room and throw up the contents of the day. But on days where she looked like a princess just in her simple school uniform and robes, she could take anyone's breath away. He had seen her cry on numerous occasions, though she tried to hide it by quickly going into her room or the bathroom, which ever was closer. But even then, they were usually small trickles of tears caused by a stupid argument between her supposed best friends and her. This was something new.
These tears were heart-wrenching because the cause of them was not really him, but the dreams. These dreams that haunted her during the day, and at night. Whenever she would look at him all she could think about were her fingers brushing across his skin, his lips against hers as if all of it had really happened. She was supposed to be the composed one, the smart one, the strong one of the group. She was logical and intelligent, everything that her two dimwitted friends were not. To keep her perfect grades, her perfect reputation, her perfect life had to be a strain on her. Even Malfoy had to admit that it must be hard to be that perfect. He admired and hated her for it. He wanted to be able to be that perfect, that innocent. And yet, somehow she seemed so… what was the word he was looking for? Scarred from the life of being best friends with Harry Potter. The boy who's whole existence is to save the wizarding and muggle world from total destruction and corruption by the Dark Lord himself.
Her arms encircled his middle, her face pressed into the crook of his shoulder as she sobbed, letting the weight of the world off her shoulders and laying some of the burden on him. Malfoy wrapped his arms around her small, shaking, shoulders and held her small frame against his, letting his eyes closed as he thought about his predicament. He was supposed to hate her. To not let her get to him no matter how amazing she looked, or how hurt she appeared to be. It wasn't his fault, he didn't care. But he did, and he knew it. There was nothing to stop the flood of sympathy and care he felt for this poor girl. He knew what it was like to feel like you have to prove yourself to others every day of your life. It was a burden that he too carried.
Hermione too a great breath and slowly let it out, taking control of herself once more and trying to compose herself to the best of her abilities. However, she left her arms wrapped around his middle and, if anything, curled into him more so. He tightened his hold around her and then her small face turned up towards his, her eyes were red and only slightly puffed with the tears. He moved one hand around and brushed the tear that was trailing from the corner of her eye down her cheek. She gave him her best smile through the tears. "I'm sorry, Malfoy. For crying like this, losing control. There has just…" He cut her off, placing a finger against her lips.
"You don't have anything to prove to me, Granger. I've seen all sides of you by this point. Whatever has been troubling you, you can tell me of your own free will. Don't make excuses for the tears." He looked down at her, giving her a semi-hard look as if to make his point clear.
"Why are you being so kind, Malfoy? You've no reason to be here right now, you could have gone back up to bed rather then sit here while I cried like a blubbering idiot." She frowned a little bit, though she turned her head back and rested it against his shoulder once more, cuddling down against him as if she really didn't want him to leave her side.
"Well, the moment I sat down beside you and you clung to me like a new attachment there really wasn't anything I could do. It would take more then a simple parting spell to get you off of me. I know that you want this, but Lord Granger." Hermione couldn't help the small laugh that passed her lips, though it was somewhat held down by the tears and sounded weak, even to her ears.
After a moment's pause Hermione mumbled sleepily so that Malfoy could barely hear the words coming from her lips. "Thank you, Draco. For letting me cry." Her voice trailed off and she seemed to be asleep, still curled against his side. Rather then attempt to move her, he smiled gently. A rare occurrence, as is obvious by the usual smirk. Her brushed a piece of stray hair from her eyes and then transfigured a near-by pillow into a large blanket, laying it over the both of them and softly resting his cheek against the top of her frame, murmuring softly to her sleeping frame. "Goodnight, Hermione. Sweet dreams, I hope."
Malfoy was quick to follow her into a realm of dreams. These dreams were calm, peaceful dreams on both sides. Only marginally involving the other, though they stayed curled together for the rest of the night and into the late morning the next day.
A/N: I just want to say that I know it's short but it's really just an intro. Granted Malfoy seems a little bit softer then normal and I usually try to keep him in character, but I'm sure you can all manage to handle him being a little bit different. He's not going to be nice per say, but he's going to quickly warm up to her, I think. I haven't really decided that far ahead. But, if you have read any of my other works, you'll know I just kind of go with the flow of the story. I let it lead me rather than I lead it. That always ends up like a forced story and they are usually crud to read. So. I hope you enjoyed it. Review with either good or bad comments. All are welcome. I'm a little rusty.