Disclaimer: This is the only one I'm writing! All Harry Potter characters and places belong to a very talented Ms. J.K. Rowling. If they belonged to me, well, I wouldn't be writing this lame fanfiction now would I?
Draco didn't know what was happening, why it was happening, or what was causing it. All he knew was that he didn't want it to stop; Ever. He'd become addicted to whatever this was. It was his secret little drug that he used over and over and over again.
You see, someone had been visiting Draco in his dreams. And it wasn't just any someone, but a certain busy-haired, know-it-all, bookworm of a someone. His nightly drug was his dreams of the Gryffindor Princess herself, Miss Hermione Granger. And it had all started only a few months ago…
He was lying on his back in a spacious room on an emerald green chase. There was a fire burning merrily in the hearth of its fireplace, casting a shadowy sort of glow onto the walls of the mystery room. It was set up much like the Head's commons he was forced to share with Granger except that it was done entirely in Slytherin colors; silver and green. There were still seven doors in the room and numerous staircases leading to each one. One door for each of the four house's common rooms, one door leading to his bedroom, one to hers and one to their shared lavatory. There was also a large study area and a small kitchenette in case either wanted to do a little cooking instead of going to the Great Hall or summoning house elves. He stared into the fire for a while, seemingly lost in his own thoughts until the soft pattering of sock feet on stone stairs alerted him to another presence. But this was his dream, who could possibly be coming to interrupt him here?
She came down the last few steps and wandered over to one of the armchairs in front of the fire, folding herself into it and staring right at him. Her brown tresses were contained in a messy half bun atop her head and she was clothed in only a small pair of black shorts and a grey tank top. The flickering firelight added to her mysterious and, though he was reluctant to admit it, alluring appearance. It danced wherever it touched her, especially in her deep brown eyes.
Draco and Hermione stared at each other for a few moments and Draco wasn't sure why. Was she waiting for him to speak? Was she going to say something to him? This was the quietest dream about a girl that he had ever had. The silence permeated throughout the room and was almost enough to smother him so he cleared his throat.
"Uh…" was all he managed to get out.
"You want to know why I'm here, don't you?" she said without preamble. Draco simply nodded and she continued, "Well it's no one's fault but your own, Draco." He started at the use of his first name from her lips, "This is your subconscious, and I'm only here because you want me to be here."
At this revelation Draco's eyes widened to the size of saucers and he started to splutter out meaningless words and phrases, "I…You don't even…I don't WANT..."
She held up a hand to stop him, "Like I said, I'm only here because you want me here. You may not realize it yet but it's the truth. I'm here to help you with your problems Draco. We can talk about anything that you want, do anything that you want and there will be no repercussions. No will ever know except for you and it's not like you have to parade about the school ranting on about your dreams of 'Mudblood Granger'" She air-quoted around those last words and Draco flinched again. Surprisingly enough he felt strangely guilty about calling her that name, and even worse that she had called herself that.
"Don't call yourself that anymore. Not ever again…" he whispered this in her direction and he didn't doubt that she had heard it, "I'm sorry for ever calling you that in the first place." His eyes, that had traveled down to study his hands, made their way back up to Hermione and he saw that she was smiling.
"Good, that's a start Draco. It's a good start." And looking at her, with that smile on her face for him, made his lips twitch up in a tiny smile too.
After that first encounter he'd been having the dreams nightly. They were his escape and he needed these nightly visits like he need air to breathe. He felt that if they ever stopped, if she ever just stopped coming to him, his woes would pile up and up until he was buried in them. He talked to her about everything, from his good days to his bad days. She listened when he was all smiles and when he was all but shaking with rage. She listened when he laughed and when he cried. She just listened. And that was all that he needed from her.
The one thing Draco didn't notice was that his nightly visits with Hermione had slowly been changing him. He was becoming more open and friendly until it was almost second nature to him. He had stopped terrorizing Neville and had actually helped him find his toad, Trevor, the other night. He stopped sneering at Potter and Weasley as they walked past him in the hallway. He even became friendly with some of the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws.
The thing that changed the most with Draco, though, was his attitude towards Hermione. He offered her small smiles as they passed each other in the corridor and, while she was shocked at first, she had begun to give him small, tentative smiles back. He was completely civil towards her when they were together in the Head's Dorm or at a prefect meeting. He had even begun to show some affection to the squashed beast that she called a cat. Crookshanks curled up in Draco's lap whenever he felt like it now, knowing that he wasn't going to be launched across the room anymore. And Draco never said the word 'Mudblood' ever again after that first night with his dream Hermione.
He laid down on one of the silver loveseats in the Head's commons, his head resting in his hands, staring at the ceiling. Hermione had enchanted it to work like the Great Hall's except instead of showing the current weather; it constantly showed patterns of stars. Hermione said that she found this relaxing and now that Draco was staring at it himself he couldn't say that he disagreed with her.
His forehead creased a little bit, why was he thinking about Hermione so much? Usually he waited until very late at night to let her overrule his thoughts. Were all these late night 'visits' addling his brains? No, he thought, that's not it at all. He knew what was happening and was powerless to stop it now that it had started.
He was falling for Hermione and he knew it. Except for the fact that he'd never had a conversation with the real Hermione like he'd had with his dream Hermione. And he kind of wanted to know what that would be like. Would she be as understanding of him as she was in his dreams? Would she still lend him her shoulder to cry on, or lean on? Would she even allow him to sit that close to her? Would she take his hand and stroke the depression between his thumb and forefinger like she would in his dreams? Merlin, he hoped so.
Draco was back in the common room again. He was stretched out along the couch in front of the fire and Hermione sat on the floor close to his head. Her hair was down this time and tumbled down her back in soft waves rather than in a bushy mess. He often found himself running his fingers through it, marveling at its soft and smooth texture, and also because he simply wanted to. This simple action seemed to calm him and allowed him to talk normally and she let him because she knew it helped him.
At least that's what he thought.
"So," she began, "why am I here tonight?"
Draco wasn't sure that he knew the answer to that question. He didn't have a problem to talk to her about anymore, the day wasn't exceptionally special, why was she here? Draco settled for a shrug and continued stroking her hair.
"Well if you don't have a reason…" she said, trailing off at the end. Suddenly her form began to shimmer and Draco realized that she was slowly fading, leaving him there by himself.
"No!" Suddenly she was solid again; Solid and smiling up at him.
"So there is a reason that I'm here." Draco scowled at her matter-of-fact tone and folded his arms across his chest.
"If you don't tell me why I'm here I'll have no choice but to leave."
"I'll just bring you right back," Draco stated, "This is MY subconscious."
"True, maybe I should just wake you up." There was a devious gleam in her eyes. Hermione knew that once he was awake from a long sleep he couldn't go back to sleep until the next night.
"Ugh, you are insufferable…" Draco muttered as he rolled to look at the ceiling.
"No, you're just stubborn. Just tell me why I'm here still, not like the real me is ever going to know." Draco looked around at Hermione to see that she had turned herself around to face him too. She had that fierce look in her eye that he loved and that's when he decided.
"You really want to know?" She nodded. "Alright…" And, without giving her time to argue, he leant down and placed a gentle kiss on her mouth. He memorized the way her lips felt on his and how wonderfully she smelled when he was this close to her before he pulled away and looked her in the eye.
"That's why you're here, Hermione." She didn't say anything, but she stared at him as her hand slowly moved up to rest on her mouth. And, after an agonizingly painful moment of waiting for a reaction, she smiled.
Okay, so, if you haven't already figured it out Draco's dreams are italicized Hermione doesn't know he's dreaming about her annnnnnd this is my first dramione fic ever and it's going very very slowly. High school is a pain :/ Reviews are loved. Flames are not. I'll try to update as often as I can, no promses that it'll be too often :( thanks fo' readin! :)
-In Love. Still Single
