Rating: Still PG for this part
Disclaimer: This is mine. JK is a fraud…Oh and did I say I am a malignant liar?
Category: Romance, adventure
Notes: Law school sucks. I should have been a writer… this story is actually a work in progress. As I am writing these notes, only 9 chapters have been written, and it's far from over. So you guys can actively participate as to how it will end. I just need your reviews! smiles This is my first attempt at a chaptered fic as you guys can see from what I've posted on so far, but in actuality, I think I may have written one chaptered fic before, but I haven't the guts to post it yet. This here is a very short chapter. So I apologize for this…

DREAMCATCHER: CHAPTER TWO

"What's that, Draco?" Crabbe was folding and refolding his socks, eyeing the unusual instrument that his roommate, Draco Malfoy, was propping on his bedside table. "It's ugly," he finished.

Draco sneered and shook his head. "And who asked for your opinion, Crabbe?" He aligned the glowing object that looked like a small boulder atop a crooked stick of the ugliest orange, the color of puke.

"You're actually going to sleep with that hideous thing on your bedside?" Blaise Zabini pointed a finger at the horrifically revolting thing that Draco was lovingly placing on his bedside table as if it belonged there in the first place. "I can't believe you even own such a disgustingly ugly thing."

Draco rolled his eyes and crossed his arms in front of his chest when he had finished placing the thing beside his lamp. "Look, you are not the one who's going to have to put up with it. Besides, it's ugly for a reason," he claimed.

Goyle, who was hunched over a piece of parchment, looked up and grimaced when he saw the thing. "What is that anyway?"

"It's a Banisher," Draco replied, sitting down on the edge of his bed and opening the library book he borrowed that morning.

"Oh—a Banisher," Goyle grinned and nodded, while Blaise snorted.

"Umm, what's a Banisher?" Goyle asked, dumbfounded and scratching his head.

Draco could've fallen dead on the spot. "OK Goyle, if you're any stupider, you'd not even be able to spell your name. A Banisher is a device to reject recurring dreams," he exclaimed.

"So what do you need it for? Have you been having dreams lately?" Draco looked at Blaise and weighed whether he should answer the inquiry. He didn't want to make his friends suspicious of his recent worries because, in the first place, he didn't have the courage to try to spell everything out for them.

"They're just dreams, you know—bothersome and irritating. Which is why I decided to purchase the Banisher…to try to get rid of them."

"What are your dreams about?"

Too dangerous.

"They're my dreams, not yours. I don't see a reason why I should give a blow-by-blow account of them for your listening pleasure," Draco reasoned. He absent-mindedly turned an unread page on the book and mentally reprimanded himself for risking this much to tell his ordeal to a group of Slytherin nincompoops.

"Well—maybe they'd go away if you tell us all about it," Crabbe cajoled.

Over my dead body… "I don't think so, Crabbe. Why don't you sleep? Maybe your brain just needs the rest, it's been working very hard for the whole day."

"C'mon Draco, don't be a spoilsport; tell us," Blaise persuaded.

"The answer is no, Blaise. If you're so interested in dreams, why don't you sleep and try to have one of your own?"

There were protests but the dormitory eventually fell silent. Draco was still seated on the edge of his bed, flipping through the book with unseeing eyes. He had started to fear falling asleep because he didn't want to have the same unexplainable and unbelievable dreams. He knew that buying the Banisher had only been a last resort, a desperate move to try to rid himself of his 'problem'. He stole a glance at the Banisher casually propped on his bedside table, fervently glowing as if pulsating…beating, thinking on its own.

It was damn ugly. With the hideous wrinkled face of the small rock where bright red stones were engraved; the stick holding it was crooked and unusually orange giving the impression that the boulder was a clump of cheese speared by a twig that looked like someone puked on. The surface was glowing bright yellow and was trying to compete with the only lamp left open.

Draco stifled a yawn and closed the book with a dull thwack. The moment of truth had come. He crawled into bed, heavy-lidded and full of anxiety over what might happen once he closed his eyes. Shifting to lie on his side, Draco turned to look at the Banisher glowing beside his lamp. It looked eerie but he knew that should this work, he'd be free of his dreams forever.

Reaching out to snap the light shut, Draco breathed a sigh of resignation. This was his last hope.

The covers were snugly wrapped over his body. The night embraced his even breathing and the darkness cradled his closed eyes. He welcomed the night, subconsciously wishing that when he woke up, he could rightfully say that he was free.

#####

"So?"

Harry looked at Ron, who was expectantly looking back at Harry as if waiting for the latter to collapse in a pool of his crimson blood.

"So what?" Harry asked, forking two sausages at the same time.

"How was your sleep?" Ron prompted.

Harry poured himself a mug of milk with a bemused expression on his face. He had already anticipated that the moment that he and Ron were alone, the redhead would inquire about his sleeping habits again. Like he had been doing for a week now "It was…OK."

"Oh come on Harry, drop the act. Did you or did you not have nightmares?"

"I didn't alright! Is it suddenly your life's mission to check the way I sleep every morning? It was OK just like the night before last and the night before that and the night before that. It's been uneventful and peaceful for the whole week; now will you quit it?"

"The dreamcatcher worked, then?"

"Yes, it worked. And I know that I have you and Hermione to thank," Harry said, shaking his head with an exasperated smile. He was thankful for his friends to have come up with the dreamcatcher idea but…really; it was getting really cumbersome to answer Ron's survey questions every morning.

"So what are the kinds of dreams you've been having lately?"

"Oh, you know, happy dreams, like chasing butterflies and stuff, riding horses along the surf—really calm dreams devoid of knives, green flashes and guillotines," he described. He brought a forkful of sausage and omelet to his lips and chewed in satisfaction. A good night's sleep always brought good mornings and delicious appreciation of breakfast.

"Chasing butterflies? Don't let Seamus hear you talking about your dream of chasing butterflies; you'll never hear the end of it. Really Harry, don't you think that's such a, I don't know, prissy dream?"

"Call it whatever you like but I'll not trade a million prissy dreams for another night with that guillotine and I don't think Seamus will prefer guillotines over butterflies himself," Harry commented. He swiped stray locks of his black hair away and glanced around the noisy lot of Gryffindors in search of his other roommates, when he noticed that Neville was still unaccounted for. "Where's Neville? If he doesn't hurry, he'd be late for Transfiguration again."

"He'll be around. You know him—he's always disoriented and stuff…always in search of something. I mean, for a few weeks you were, too. So you can't be the one to blame him," Ron answered, wolfing down his bagels.

#####

Neville rushed around the room in search of his socks. He had almost torn his head off by opening the savage drawer in Ron's part of the room, when he realized that he had a pair in his trouser pockets.

Then, he was in violent search for his Herbology book next. He was close to tears when he remembered that Harry borrowed it before going to bed the previous night. The book was on Harry's bedside table. Neville breathed a thankful sigh and grabbed the book. He didn't expect that a part of Harry's bed hangings had been caught between the book's pages that when he grabbed it from the table, the four-poster's hangings were yanked and the dreamcatcher on Harry's bedside toppled off where it had been placed. He silently cursed his clumsiness and replaced the dreamcatcher on the bedside table as well as the hangings on Harry's bed.

The panic and rush overwhelmed Neville so much that he didn't hear the sound of shards of dreamcatcher charms crunching against the soles of his shoes as he made his way back to his side of the room, having found what he was looking for.

PLEASE REVIEW. Let me know what you think. I'd love some insights as to this story's development and its possible ending. Please note that chapters 2 and 3 will be up at the same time since this baby right here is actually a very short chapter… Cheerio!

-emeraldine-