Chapter 1

Draco Malfoy was not happy, not happy at all. Not only was the storm never ending and very much impeding his return to a happy slumber, but those forsaken dreams kept hitting him with much an ample force as the actual curse that hit his chest every time he closed his eyes and dreamed of spiraling rooms and Death Eater filled meadows.

Damn nightmares.

And the fact that the same bushy haired bitch frequented every single one of those nightmares was enough to push him off the edge of insanity.

Oh yes, he could try denying it for eternities to come, but he perfectly well knew who those sodding brown eyes belonged too. In every single one of those dreams, she gave him the same old look - that pleading gaze that made him think he'd committed atrocities greater than what had transpire during Voldemort's rise to power.

Hermione fucking Granger.

Witch extraordinaire, best friends with the boy-who-wouldn't-die and if rumors were true, soon-to-be bride of said boy's read headed pet side kick.

Damn Granger.

He sat up in bed and allowed the covers to fall and expose his pale chest as he ran a tired hand though his messy platinum hair. Checking the clock by his bedside table he noted the time and groaned: 1:30am.

He turned his head towards the window just in time to catch another lighting strike break the sky. Thunderstorms upon thunderstorms were all he remembered of England after his departure. And it seemed nature hadn't forgotten him either, since it welcomed him back with a violent tempest. Throwing his head back on his bed's headboard, he starred angrily at the dancing shadows on his ceiling. No, he most certainly wasn't getting any sleep tonight.

Damn these nightmares, damn Granger and damn this storm.

With one final glare outside his window he sighed, closed his eyes and thought back to when this whole ordeal had commenced.

He'd like to think his life had truly begun with his departure from England, but he knew very well he was fooling himself. This was the beginning of the end, as Blaise had so eloquently put it seven years ago, and the Italian wizard couldn't have been more right.

As soon as the gavel had struck the judge's desk and all charges had been cleared for the Malfoy family, save for his dear father of course, Draco had picked up his bags and left. No one but a selected few knew his destination and even then that only lasted for the first two months. His mother had pleaded with him to come back, but just three months into his parting, Draco Malfoy disappeared.

It had been his best and brightest idea ever, in his opinion.

He had left with one purpose and one purpose only: to escape the aftermath of the war and the demons that came with it. Little did he know that he'd only be able to accomplish the former before he soon realized his demons would never leave him. It was on a cold winters morning in the outskirts of Oslo, sitting inside some third rate coffee house when he came to the realization that his whole upbringing had been a lie.

One big, fucking, lie.

So Draco had picked up his life once more and had done what he did best. He closed himself up of all emotion and vanished; hoping to forget, and to be forgotten.

But nothing ever happens the way things are supposed to and four years after his desertion they were still writing columns about him.

"The Malfoy Heir spotted off the coast of Croatia!"

Reporting Rita Skeeter, Young Draco Malfoy has been spotted walking leisurely with a pretty young red head in South Dalmatia, according to eye witnesses…

"Draco Malfoy: Dead"

Reporting Rita Skeeter, After what seems like daily sightings of the handsome young heir, it is to the Wizarding World's great sorrow to announce that Mr. Draco Malfoy, the last in line of the Malfoy family, has been found dead just days after being spotted enjoying a summer's vacation in Monte Carlo with famous Russian model, Ana Alistratov…

"Draco Malfoy: Alive!"

Reporting Rita Skeeter, Witches throughout the world rejoice! Draco Malfoy, winner of the Sexiest Wizard Alive for the past 4 years has been spotted very much alive, wearing a blue Chelsea jersey and apparently has given up his wizard upbringing to join the Muggle world and their barbaric sport knows as Footfall! Not to worry Mr. Malfoy, wizard or not you still will remain England's Most Handsome Wizard of the century…

What their constant obsession with him was, he'd never know. He hadn't been seen in over four years and they still kept printing the same bullshit year after year, reusing and editing past gala photos of him in every single one of their articles.

Damn Rita Skeeter for keeping his memory alive.

He'd scoff at all the headlines. At least they still thought he was living his life without a worry in the world, touring the globe with the same beautiful gold diggers and acting very much like the Slytherin prince they had all been made to believe that he was.

Well, at least that suited his plan. After all, with believes like that, no one would have expected him to move south and take residence in a small nameless town south of Sevilla. And was exactly what he had done.

Four months into his departure he had moved to Spain and settled very well, much to his surprise. Those Spanish lessons his mother had made him take when he was 10 had definitely paid off. He resided in a small wizarding town, perfectly safe from all the gossip of the northern countries and their troubles. The English war for them was naught more than just a passing storm in their eyes; and Voldemort was nothing but a story now turned myth.

He was happy, to say the least, and the fact that no one recognized the Malfoy name or the famous pale skin and platinum blond hair was an added bonus. For once in his short life, he was grateful to be a 'nobody.'

It was on an eerie summer's night when it first happened. The first time he ever dreamed of her.

Exactly two years and five months ago to be precise.

It had been five years since he had left England and his life was moving on fine. Four years prior he had acquired a respectable job at an up and coming wizarding consulting firm and he was about to embark on his first assignment as Head Researcher for what was now the most esteemed consulting firm in all of Europe, with him being one of their most valuable consultant. It was the night before his departure to Singapore when he was jerked awake by a vivid dream that almost felt like a very distant memory. The wind had been blowing hard that night and he could hear the waves violently hit the precipice outside his coastal home. He had shaken his head and discarded the dream without much consideration, directing his thoughts to more pressing matters such as the assignment he had just been given before drifting back to a dreamless slumber.

Thinking about it now, he should have paid more heed to its meaning and to what it was to forecast.

It was three days into his trip when he learned of the news. Walking in wizarding Singapore back to his hotel room after a long day of curse breaking, data analysis and research, he stumbled upon a kiosk that seemed to be doing pretty well for its relatively small size. At least if that was to be judged by how many people swarmed it. He paid no heed to the commotion surrounding it and walked by, eager to get back to his room. But before he had even turned the corner, he heard the name that had made his blood run cold.

"Malfoy!"

He had swirled around; panic marking his fair features for an instant before he masked them with a perfect scowl and searched the ocean of people for the person who had seen through his very well placed disguise charm. But all he had seen were heads buried deep in what seemed to be Singapore's version of the Prophet. He had cautiously bowed his six foot frame over the shoulder of the small wizard closest to him and had tried to get a closer look at what they were all reading, only to discover a picture of his father glaring back up at him.

Damn it.

Yelling out at the vendor he demanded a copy of the newsprint, paid for it and left without a glance back. Had he scanned the area better, he would have noticed two wide brown eyes staring at him from outside a coffee shop right across the street.

"BREAKING NEWS: INFAMOUS DEATH EATER LUCIUS MALFOY FOUND DEAD IN PRISON CELL"

NORTH SEA (WP) – Lucius Malfoy's remains were found in the early hours this morning inside his Azkaban prison cell. Suicide has been ruled out and no report has been made as to how the murder came about. Interrogations are being administered on all prison staff to determine a probable cause to this mysterious murder. Due to the graphic contents of this story, no detailed information is available to the general public at this moment. More information will be provided as it breaks.

For more information about the Malfoy family turn to page 5.

He hadn't slept that night.

It's not like he ever loved the man, Merlin forbid that had ever happened. But he couldn't deny that a small part of him crumbled as he read the story. His father had been murdered and the story had been deemed too graphic to be described. What could have possibly happened? He got his answer two painfully long days later.

Lucius Malfoy had apparently been spared a clean and speedy death and instead he had been murdered very slowly and very painfully. The inside of the cell had resembled the dark secrets of a slaughter house with his intestines and lungs found hanging off the bed posts and his fingers, toes, ears and eyes sprinkled across the floor. His decapitated head, which lay on his bed, was just the final touch to the blood soaked room.

Aurors had performed a thorough search of the cell and the entire prison for any clues that might lead to answers as to how the murder was committed, and how the killer even gained access of one of the most guarded cells in Azkaban. But after two weeks of long hours and meaningless sweeps, nothing was found. Whoever had committed the crime knew perfectly well what they were doing and knew how to skive the Ministry's search. No justice was brought to Lucius' murder and a month later the case went cold.

That is until one by one, captured Death Eaters fell to their death inside their own prison cells, each killed in an equally grotesque fashion as his late father. Whoever the murderer was, played a spiteful game and drove the Ministry to it limits. He'd like to think the uproar that was brought on by Ministry members was mostly due to a bruised ego instead of justice for the fallen men. But then again, said fallen men were murderers themselves and supporters of Voldemort, they deserved no mercy in their eyes. So instead of focusing on protecting the lives of the few that remained, the Ministry had gone upon isolating Azkaban and building a newer more improved prison. Well at least now he knew where the yearly donations his family was forced to make went to.

It wasn't until Theodore Nott's mutilated body appeared on the doorsteps of precious Harry Potter that the ministry began to take notice of where these murders were heading.

That was around the time he got his first owl form his mother.

How the bloody bird found him, he had no idea.

She told him of the country's happenings and implored him to return. Apparently the Ministry thought the murderer was targeting all remaining families of the departed Death Eaters and were offering protection. He sneered at that. In his opinion, the Ministry was more inclined to offer them up to this killer than they were to offer protection. But before the Ministry could make good on their promises, the attacks ceased. After a year of waiting, Ministry officials closed the case and concluded that the mysterious wizard behind these murdered had tired and stopped. Just like that, with no what's, how's or why's. Closed case, no justice for anyone. Out of sight, out of mind. The last news that anyone ever got was a very ceremoniously printed list of the deceased on the next day's Prophet.

But of course not many people paid regard to these names, what did they cared for ex-Voldemort sympathizers and their families.

Not many people cared enough to read through every single one of those names, and fewer people still realized that all of them had in fact carried the Death Eater mark. This wasn't a list of family and friends. It was a hit list and every person in it had supported Voldemort, either publicly or secretly and had paid the ultimate price. Not many people counted the names and not many people realized that all Death Eaters had been whipped from the wizarding world. Not many people realized that only one ex-Death Eater was missing from the list. Not many people noticed anything at all.

That was the second time he dreamed about her and the first time he dreamed about his death.


Hermione Granger was having a rather hard time falling asleep. She had woken up from another nightmare shortly before 1:30am and the storm had prevented her from falling back on Morpheus arms. Two hours consisting of twist and turns had passed slowly and by the end of it, the result had been the same. A very awake, very tired and very angry Hermione Granger lay on her mattress, fuming as she stared at the dancing shadows on her bedroom walls.

The storm still raged on.

She hated storms, always had. Ever since she was a little child she would always creep up her parent's bed during a thunderstorm and snuggle between them as they soothed her childish fears with light kisses and gentle songs. Things had been much better as a five year old.

But now, as a woman of 24 years of age, she didn't much think she'd be allowed to apparate to her parent's house, let alone sneak onto their bed. Not after what she had made them go through in Australia.

Sigh. It was times like these when she wished she had taken up Ron's invitation of moving in with him. At least then she wouldn't have had to worry about not being able to get a good night's rest due to thunderstorms if he'd been with her.

But in all seriousness how long could a stupid storm last! She huffed once more as she looked at the clock on her bedside table and threw the covers off of her as she jumped off the bed and stomped towards the bathroom.

Today was not supposed to start so early.

As Hermione started the shower and peeled off her bed clothes off her small frame, she thought back to 1:30am and to what had actually woken her up. She'd like to have blamed it all on the bloody storm, on the damn tree outside her London flat with its skinny twigs hitting her bedroom window and playing out an eerie scene with their shadows on her bedroom wall. She'd like to blame it on the late night cup of coffee she drank before bed and on the deliciously crafted finger food she'd had eaten at Harry and Ginny's pre-engagement party the night before. Hell, she would even go as far as to blame it on work and the damn impossible case they had on their hands.

But it would all have been a lie, a completely ludicrous and possibly believable lie to anyone but her.

She stepped into the scalding shower and let the water run down her frame, making her skin burn as the droplets rolled down every part of her body and allowed her muscles to relax. Reaching over to her shampoo and beginning the delightfully soothing process of massaging her scalp, she thought back to the real reason she had been awake at such a ghastly hour.

Draco Sodding Malfoy.

Not even in her sleep could she escape the bloody ferret. He had been creeping into her dreams little by little for the past two years and she was quite frankly growing tired of it. She had tried all sorts of medicaments to rip him off of her subconscious, but even the Dreamless Draught potion she prepared the first of each month was not enough to kick him out completely.

At first he had only appeared discreetly every once in a while and lingered in her dreams for barely a second before disappearing, he had just been an extra in the movie rail her brain had created. She had paid it no heed; it was probably her brain still trying to make sense of his disappearance. He had been gone for five years and she couldn't escape the constant chatter that always surrounded his name. She stopped frequenting the dining area at the Ministry and had opted for a lonely but very much peaceful lunch in her office, away from gossiping witches. But not even that spared her from hearing his name everywhere she went. It was like all of Britain had a frantic obsession with him. Everywhere she went, she either heard his name, or saw it on print. Malfoy this, Malfoy that… Honestly, were people's lives so miserable that they had to focus on the life of man who hadn't been seen or heard of in over five years? If it had been anyone else, the gossip wouldn't have even lasted pass the end of the week. But no, this was Draco Malfoy, and his memory was kept alive in their daily lives only because of his parentage, his supposed fortune and his disgustingly good looks.

And so the dreams had come every now and then and with a mental swipe of her hand, they had been casted away. She hadn't told anyone about it because one, it's not like they were disrupting her day to day life... yet, and two, people would have just blankly stared at her and probably declared her a lost case and grouped her off with all the pathetic witches who slept and ate his name. Honestly these witches had no self-respect.

No he hadn't done much damage to her mental state and soon after she had just learned to cast him off and ignore any dream she had. She had smiled back then and silently declared herself a winner – Sorry Malfoy, you lose, again.

It had all been well and perfectly normal until her trip to Singapore a few months later. She had been away on assignment with Terry Boot and had currently been sitting outside a rather pleasant coffee shop discussing the breaking news of Lucius Malfoy's murder when an increasing number of people had caught her eye and she had gazed up across the street to a fast filling kiosk. Merlin, even in Singapore people where obsessed with the Malfoy name. Shortly after, a wizard very blatantly yelled out the famous surname and excited whispering had followed it. She shook her head and was about to drop her gaze back at the paper in front of her when a tall wizard standing just to the side of the crowd had caught her eye. It was as if her body realized what she was seeing before her mind actually processed it as her whole frame went numb. There standing right across the street from her, in a very open, very crowed street was Draco Malfoy himself. Merlin, she would never have recognized him had it not been for her intensive training as an Undercover in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. He had changed every part of himself, his skin was a golden tan and his features were more Arab than English. He was a completely different person and Hermione would have seconded guessed her discovery had it not been for the sneer he wore for mere seconds before masking his face with a bored expression. There and then she thanked him for intruding her dreams and keeping his trademark smirk alive in her memory. She watched as he peered over the shoulders of the man in front of him and narrowed her eyes as recognition marred his features. To anyone else his reaction would have been completely natural, after all, the bloody world had a love affair with the Malfoy name and Hermione would have paid it no attention had she not caught his slip moments before and recognized him. She watched him with wide eyes as he demanded a newsprint, paid for it and left the scene.

Arriving back at her hotel room that night, she replayed the scene over and over again in her head. There were moments where she'd try to make herself believe that the Malfoy fever was finally catching up with her and that the person she had seen two hours ago was not Draco Malfoy, but just a nice man walking back home from a hard day at work and getting the evening news. But then the smirk flickered in her memory again.

That was the first night he switched his roles from an extra to the main character in her dreams.

Damn you, Malfoy.


Disclaimer: Characters and Harry Potter world are owned solely by JKR. I just own this particular plot.

A/N: Sorry for any grammatical errors. Please read and review!