Chapter 11- Sweet Dreams?
Hermione face planted into Luna's hair. She coughed and spluttered, muttering a series of profanities as she struggled to straighten her tie and pull on shoes at the same time.
"Is everyone awake?" she called, skipping around with one shoe in search of her book bag.
Luna flicked her hair over her shoulder in a remarkably Lavender-like fashion. "I am now." Seamus came crashing down the stairs, missing the last three by about a mile and falling to the floor with a heavy thud. He hit a few picture frames off the wall on the way down, sending them smashing downwards. Hermione sighed. Everyone had to be awake now. She was proven correct as Lavender leaped over Seamus like an Olympic hurdler, followed closely by Harry walking calmly down the stairs. Hermione stared at him, wondering why he wasn't more frazzled. Harry noticed her gaze and shrugged.
"We're only late for Herbology, Hermione, it's not as if it's Potions with Snape."
He did have a point, Hermione supposed, but the prospect of being late for any class, especially because she over slept, was horrifying and immoral. She wasn't sure how all six of them had managed to sleep through most of breakfast. The scavenger hunt must have exhausted them more than they realized, which was incredible considering how tiring they already recognized it was.
Hermione did a brief head count and checked her watch. Ten minutes to eat breakfast and sprint down to the greenhouses. Harry was searching for his socks under the couch, and Luna was batting her hands around her head as if swatting away wrackspurts. Hmm. Seamus was idling close to the potted plant, which made her nervous considering last time he was near the plant he had relieved himself in it. Lavender was adjusting her cleavage in the mirror, ensuring maximum display. Draco… Hermione frowned, looking for the familiar blond head. He wasn't here. In fact, she hadn't seen him all morning, including the usual battle over the bathroom. She cast a concerned glance up the stairs. Had he not woken up? He would be dreadfully late for History of Magic if he didn't wake up soon.
Not that Hermione knew his schedule at all. Or cared about where he was and what he was doing during each hour of the day. Who suggested that ridiculous idea?
Nonetheless, Hermione couldn't sit by and let Malfoy sleep through his classes, it was only right that he suffer through History of Magic with his other snakes. Sighing to herself, Hermione skipped back up the stairs to his door.
"Rise and shine, you great blond prat, rise and shine," she exclaimed loudly whilst storming into Malfoy's room.
The sight she was met with shocked her.
Malfoy was sleeping….Like….like an actual human being?!
Despite how crazy it sounded, Hermione had never imagined this. In her inner mind theater, she had always pictured Malfoy hanging upside down like a bat, or sleeping in a coffin. Or possibly cuddling with some medieval torture devices.
But this?
Wow.
Instead of snuggling up to a pair of nunchucks or dying puppies, Malfoy was clutching his pillow. His features were soft and relaxed, the rise and fall of his chest steady. His white blond hair looked like a halo as it fell around his face, giving him any annoyingly angelic look. Hermione pouted momentarily. When she was sleeping she definitely did not look like that, partly because of the drool on her face and her frizzy hair consuming everything. Her eyes drifted downwards to find that he only wore underwear to bed, and it was far more revealing than Hermione would have liked them to be. She blushed brightly, trying to erase the image of long, muscular legs and the soft hair around them.
Wrenching her gaze back up to his face, Hermione cleared her throat in an attempt to rouse him.
Rouse, as in wake up, not arouse, because Hermione would never want to arouse…okay, well maybe….
It was soon revealed that the boy slept like a log. Hermione went through three fake coughing fits, one of which included elbowing Draco in the ribcage, but it was to no avail. Voldemort and his merry band of death eaters could have stormed into his room, wands blazing, but it wouldn't have woken the sleeping blond.
Hermione blew some hair out of her face in frustration. If Malfoy made her even later to class, she was going to have some words with him. He might not care about keeping an impeccable record, but she certainly did.
She banged her fist against the head board of the bed, hoping to startle him, when her hand knocked something off of it. Frowning, Hermione bent down to retrieve whatever had dropped to the floor. It was a ring of leather and suede, with string to create a netting within in. She blinked in confusion for a moment before she made the connection. It must be the dream catchers that Harry and Ron mentioned Trelawney was making them use to record their dreams. For the Divination class, they were supposed to analyze their dreams in order to see the omens of the past and future. At least, according to that fraud, Hermione rolled her eyes.
As these thoughts coursed through her mind, Hermione didn't notice the glowing dream catcher until it was too late. With horror, she realized that she must have accidentally activated it when she touched it.
Oh no.
Oh Merlin.
He was going to kill her.
Before she could do anything to stop it, Hermione's world began to spin around her. Panic set in but her shaking hands refused to drop the dream catcher. It felt like she had been pulled into a pensive. Her surroundings blurred and swam about her like fog. As she was launched into Malfoy's dream, the area around her began to solidify from the smoke. First the pale blue walls, then the floor beneath her and the dark framed bed.
Hermione blinked in confusion. She was back in Malfoy's room? Had she de-activated the dream catcher somehow? She frowned, squinting around her. The lighting was different, darker, as though she had used a time-turner on the spot. Shadows played around the room, dancing across the walls and the bed that was now empty. Where had Malfoy gone? And why was she still in his room?
Her questions were answered when the door banged open and Draco walked in, his hand grasping another and pulling Hermione into the room. Hermione blanched. How was it possible she was both here and there? Had she really messed with a time-turner somehow? The couple didn't seem to notice her, thankfully, and Hermione shrunk backwards, pressing herself against the door frame. Her breath caught in her throat once more when she realized that this was one of Malfoy's dreams. What was she doing in Malfoy's bedroom? She studied her dream self quizzically. Her skin was much smoother and her hair fell in curls without the usual frizz that accompanied them. Everything about dream-Hermione was more defined, her features popping beautifully and her body made Hermione groan jealously. This more beautiful, confident dream-Hermione wasn't reality.
She swallowed suddenly as her throat went dry. Was…this how Malfoy saw her?
Her heart thudded in her chest. In his eyes, she was…flawless?
Draco pulled dream-Hermione closer to his chest, catching her lips in a searing kiss. Hermione's eyes nearly bugged out of her head as the pair fell backwards onto his bed.
She suddenly knew she was invading on a very, very private moment.
She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the sounds of lips, groans, and skin. Heat gathered in her face and her belly, thrumming through her body. She risked a peak around her fingers, audibly gasping when she saw that all of the dream-couple's clothing had disappeared. Dream-Draco had rolled on top of dream-Hermione, both of them gasping and arching into each other as their hands did things that made the real Hermione blush.
Her heart was racing inside her chest, and she knew it was wrong of her to be seeing this personal moment. Guilt was a heavy lead inside of her, but something else throbbed as well, making her pulse jump erratically as she watched the blond boy push himself into the girl beneath him. Hermione squeaked, and her dream counterpart moaned breathily. The pair pumped and thrust in rhythm, their skin glistening even in the low light of the room. Oh, Merlin, Hermione shouldn't be seeing this. Dream-Hermione's hands slid down Draco's back, caressing the mixture of muscles and subtle curves before running down to his bum, squeezing gently. The boy gasped in pleasure as he pushed deeper, and dream-Hermione bowed into his movements.
As horrible as Hermione felt for intruding on Draco's personal fantasies, her breath was taken away by how beautiful the entire act was. It was carnal and erotic, making her body pulse unfamiliarly. But the way the boy handled her, with utmost gentleness and care, made her heart soften and squeeze. The experience was sensual, and the expressions on his face- usually so unreadable- were tender and adoring.
Her heart rate rose with theirs as the pair grew more frantic, their lips breaking apart from each other to gasp and pant. Hermione watched with rapture as a shudder passed through Draco's body, and he tensed as he cried out. The blood rushed to Hermione's head all at once, and she was sure she was going to pass out when her surroundings once again began to turn to smoke and dissipate.
Before she could gather herself, Hermione was thrown into another dream. This time, it was a significantly darker setting, A long, mahogany table, excessive in its grandeur, stretched across the expanse of a large room. Stone walls built themselves around her, reaching towards a cavernous ceiling. Her eyes fell to three blonds who sat in a tense silence, the only sound being the scrape of silver against porcelain.
The entire atmosphere felt unfriendly. A chill ran down her spine. The knowledge that she wasn't truly there did nothing to stop her from backing up.
Lucius Malfoy sat at the head of the table, his serpentine cane propped against the side of his lavish seat. His face was a mask of ice, the only difference from when she saw him in her second year being a distinct, wicked gleam resting on his features. A blond woman, whom Hermione could assume was Narcissa Malfoy, sat to his left, her expression tight and unpleasant. Her lip was perpetually curled in distaste.
Hermione's gaze rested back on Draco. His back was impossibly straight and everything about him was poised. His suit was tailored to perfection, his table manners impeccable, he was clean, polished, and refined. Everything was perfect, except for the miserable expression that he tried to conceal on his face. Her heart reached out for him and she yearned to say anything to him to ease the anxiety she could see swelling under the surface of his facade.
"Draco," Lucius began, and both Draco and Hermione tensed. The younger Malfoy set his fork down delicately and looked up at his father anxiously. Something about the man made Hermione want to turn and run. It was a chilling, aching fear that resided deep within her and made her bones heavy like cement.
"I wish I could say it was a pleasure to see you home, however…" he took a sip of his wine and raised an eyebrow at his son in a condescending manner. Draco shrunk backwards in his chair. A horrible feeling suddenly blossomed in Hermione's chest as she watched the scene begin to unfold before her.
"How did you fair academically this semester?" his father continued with an air of cool nonchalance. But the elder Malfoy was anything but nonchalant about Draco's response, with his terrifying glare and subtle smirk. It almost was as though he was setting Draco up to fail, and he knew it.
It looked as though Draco knew it too, for he swallowed audibly. "All O's in every subject, sir."
Lucius gave a smile that appeared to be pleased on the surface, but his eyes were cold and hard. "You must be top of your class then," he peered at the younger blond. Draco winced and looked down at his hands. Hermione cringed herself, dreading why his body language read so wrong. She watched powerlessly as the dream transformed into a nightmare.
"I…not exactly…"
Lucius paused in twirling his wine. "No?" he asked dangerously. Sensing trouble, Draco back tracked quickly.
"I'm ranked second, but it's only because Granger is a teacher's pet and does extra credit." Hermione squirmed uncomfortably, hoping with all her heart that she wasn't about to be the reason that Draco was punished.
"Hermione Granger, isn't she that mudblood that follows Potter around?" Narcissa's gaze sharpened on her son. Draco's body visibly stiffened and his breath caught in his chest. His hesitation to admit so was clear, and the two adult's eyes narrowed.
"Answer your mother, you insolent boy," Lucius snarled, slamming his hands down on the table top. Draco flinched violently
"I-I'm sorry, I- she- yes, that's her."
"You can't even beat a mudblood? Pathetic," Lucius spat. Hermione's eyes lit on Draco, and she wished she could scream at the defeated expression on his face. Couldn't his father see he was hurting him?
"I can't score higher than an O," Draco trailed off quietly, his face belying his confused misery. Hermione shook her head in frustration. How could his father expect him to score any higher? It wasn't possible! The difference between her and Draco's marks was by mere decimal points. Anger swirled inside her chest at the ridiculous expectations and standards set for him.
Ignoring him, Lucius pushed further. "And let me guess, you have yet to catch the snitch and win a quidditch game this season too, correct?"
Draco gave a feeble nod, as though afraid to answer.
"Let me talk to him alone, Narcissa."
Sheer dismay crossed Draco's face. His entire body responded in fear, from his halting breaths to his hands rapidly tugging on the hem of his shirt. His eyes turned glassy and pleading as he looked at his mother. "Mum, please-" his throat spasmed and his face crumpled.
She stood without another glance and left the room.
"What?! Don't leave him alone, you're his mother!" Hermione cried on deaf ears. She let out a harsh breath of fear as her heart extended to the boy in front of her. She was helpless, and it ate away at her insides. How could a mother abandon her son like that? With a start, Draco's queasy expression made Hermione realize that he truly feared rejection.
The older Malfoy stood tall, his frame intimidating as he towered over his son.
"Why is it that you can't accomplish even the simplest of tasks? You are pathetic, not worthy of the Malfoy name. I've known it since you were young, but I tried to have faith in you."
The words hit Hermione like a knife, stabbing her in the chest again and again. If those harsh words made Hermione feel the impact, she couldn't imagine what Draco must be feeling. Draco was crestfallen, his face unusually white.
"I-I'm trying," he stammered helplessly, his expression lost. His lip trembled and he blinked rapidly, ducking his face to hide the tears welling in his expressive eyes.
"Now I am only ashamed of you," Lucius replied coldly, turning his nose up at his son.
Draco wrung his hands in from of him, twisting them agitatedly as he desperately sought an answer. "I promise I'll try harder, I…I'll study even more and try to practice for quidditch as much as I can, I swear I won't let you down again, just don't-"
With a harsh scoff and a cruel sneer, Lucius slapped the smaller boy clean across the face. The impact was so forceful it knocked Draco sideways. He gasped quietly, and the tears became too much to hold back as Lucius turned on his heel and strode from the dining room.
"Just don't leave," Draco whispered after his father's retreating back, his voice so distraught it tore Hermione to pieces. She rushed forward, needing to help somehow, to stop the pain that was so coldly coursing through him. She fell to her knees beside him, and let out a distressed wail when her hands passed straight through him.
It was a nightmare. She couldn't do anything to change it, to stop him from hurting. That thought hurt even worse.
Slowly, the dining room began to dissolve into the fog as well. The table and dark walls melted away, as did the crying boy as he collapsed on himself. Choking for air, Hermione was thrown back onto solid ground. The dark framed bed was once again solid before her, the blue walls glowing happily in the morning light. Hermione was almost tossed off balance, and she just barely caught herself before she hit Draco.
The dark blond lashes were still brushing against his cheekbones as he breathed delicately. She heaved a sigh of relief that he was still asleep. She felt horribly invasive, peering into his private subconscious without his permission or knowledge. And the things she had seen…her heart clenched painfully.
How could a father be so outwardly hateful towards his own son? And a mother who does nothing to protect him from that cruelty? It felt unreal to Hermione. She had loving parents who were supportive of her even after they learned she was a witch.
No, Draco might not have been on the floor bleeding. But the words were just as powerful, if not worse. For at least you can fight back against an onslaught of physical blows. Verbal attacks, on the other hand, tear you apart brick by brick, destroying all sense of self-worth and love as the family members who vow to love and protect you are the ones causing the ruin. That kind of betrayal of trust ran deep. It would make any one person who shouldered that pain lash out in frustration and anger.
Hermione contemplating the sleeping boy, unable to find the heart to wake him up. He looked so peaceful and relaxed, untroubled by the world. His face wasn't hardened in a sneer, or fixed in a smirk. It was just… Draco.
Breathing a heavy sigh, Hermione fixed the dream catcher securely back in place. She knew that she couldn't leave him to get detention for missing class when she could have something to say about it. Slowly, she reached out a shaky hand and shook his shoulder gently.
"Malfoy," she said timidly, nudging him a few more times. Draco moaned quietly, and Hermione's face flared with the memory of the last time she had heard him groan in his dream. She tentatively touched his shoulder again, and his bare skin suddenly felt too warm under her fingertips.
Grey eyes opened blearily, blinking at her in sleepy wonder. The sunlight seemed to catch the irises and sparkle within the stormy orbs.
"Mal- Draco, you have to get up," Hermione prodded him quickly before withdrawing her hand. With a sudden jolt of surprise, the blond's eyes opened fully, no doubt confused as to why Hermione was in his bedroom. He sat up leisurely, propping himself on his elbows. He blinked a few times, his eyes lighting on Hermione, then on himself in confusion. He blushed prettily at his state of undress, and he pulled his sheets over his lap in embarrassed modesty.
"Er, hi," he mumbled, suddenly very aware of his near nakedness. It only served to make Hermione blush in response at the reminder.
Why was she here again? Merlin he had a fantastic chest. Wasn't she supposed to tell him something…? Mhmm his arms were great too. But she could have sworn that she was in a hurry…? He definitely noticed her staring by now. It was on the tip of her tongue…
"Oh!" Hermione jerked out of her reverie. "Class! You, time, late, me, herbology, breakfast!" She stumbled out a plethora of words as they rushed into her mind in association with her presence there.
She had to physically refrain from snorting at the series of expressions flying across Draco's face. First confusion, then a certain smugness, followed by further confusion and then a dawning realization and understanding. Grey eyes growing wide, Draco gave a small 'oh!' of surprise as he vaulted himself off the bed.
"What time is it?" he questioned, instantly a flurry of activity around the room.
"Everyone slept late, apparently, no time for breakfast," Hermione explained as he searched around for trousers and a shirt. He located the articles of clothing soon enough, and his hands hesitated on his hips as he cast a glance over at Hermione.
"Er, you can go now," he turned pink and looked pointedly towards the door. Hermione paused for a moment and then her face flushed brightly as well. She resisted the urge to slap herself in the face. He was trying to change, of course she should leave!
Well, she didn't have to…
Granger! She argued with her inner self. Apologizing quickly and mumbling goodbye, Hermione high tailed it out of the bedroom. She slammed the door shut behind her, and was about to rush off to class when she paused.
What on earth was she going to do about what she had seen in the dream catcher? Hermione leaned against the door heavily with a harsh breath. She couldn't very well tell him that she had violated his innermost thoughts and secrets. Her flush spread lower to her neck. There was no way she could tell him about her seeing his sex dream starring her. As embarrassing as it was to see that for her, she couldn't imagine how he would feel if she told him. But then there was the other dream, or nightmare, rather, that concerned her. She bit her lip in thought. She couldn't broach such a sensitive topic about his family without admitting to seeing the nightmare, could she? And if she let on about seeing one of the dreams, he would know she saw the other one, and that wasn't an option.
Draco had already proven to be a very secluded person. There was no doubt in her mind that his reaction would be volatile if she introduced the subject of his parents. Her heart squeezed painfully once more as she recalled the tears streaming down his face by the end of the nightmare. She couldn't sit idly by and do nothing, it wasn't in her nature. She had to do something.
But what?
Hey D,
How are things going over in your group? I'm surprised you haven't killed anyone yet- I'm so proud of you!
So, how's Granger? I suppose if you don't respond to this letter, I'll assume your dead. Unless you're busy killing her. Or maybe you are too busy snogging each other. Perhaps you ignore each other? Or maybe you snogged Potter and now Granger's jealous so she's ignoring you? So many different scenarios…my mind can't help but wonder.
I'm dying over here, thanks for asking how I am. Pansy is whining about something or other, Weasley is ogling Pansy, Chang is crying again, Longbottom is being dumb, and Patil (did you know there are two of them? I was so confused for quite some time, but now it makes so much sense!) well I don't know, she just stays silent and stares at me in this really eery way. I'm actually creeped out, and that's saying something because I'm used to people brooding and eerily staring at me because I keep you in my company.
I have to go, destiny is calling.
Have fun, but not too much fun ;)
B
P.S I think we should create street names for ourselves. You can be Big Daddy and I'll be Blazing Bean. Any suggestions?
"Blaise, why would you write me a letter when we see each other every day?" Draco asked incredulously at his odd best mate. Honestly, sometimes Draco questioned that bloke. Beside him, Blaise stuffed half a croissant in his mouth.
"You never talk to me anymore in person, so I figured I'd give a shot at being pen pals."
"Pen…pals?" Draco was unfamiliar with the concept.
"Yes, friends who express their thoughts and feelings to each other in letter form."
"I don't have feelings, nor do I express them. I don't have a heart, remember?" Draco said dryly, folding the parchment in two and tossing it over his shoulder.
Blaise paused to ponder this. "True," he admitted, shrugging as he ate the other half of the croissant. Hurt pulsed temporarily in Draco's chest. He knew that Blaise hadn't meant it unkindly, but a part of him wished that his friend would have argued that he did indeed have feelings. It would have been nice, seeing as no one else at this school seemed to think Draco had a heart either.
The blond shook his head to clear his thoughts, rubbing at his chest absently. He was fine, just being over dramatic. His nightmare last night must have made him more sensitive than usual.
"Pans, don't you think its a fantastic idea for Draco and I to be pen pals?" Blaise turned to the girl as she squeezed in between the two on the bench.
"My nine year old cousin has a pen pal," Pansy remarked, placing a sandwich on her plate.
"Case and point," Draco said, just as Blaise exclaimed, "See, it's a great idea!"
"You know what's not a good idea?" Draco glared at Blaise. "Street names. And don't call me 'D'." He would kill someone if Blaise started calling him 'D'. Scratch that, he would kill Blaise. Especially if other people picked up on the nickname. He knew a few impressionable people…
"Ohhh, D? That sounds so mysterious and tough," Pansy cooed excitedly, bumping Draco in the shoulder.
"Now look what you've done," Draco dropped his head into his hands and moaned. His friends cheerfully ignored him.
After lunch came Divination, and the Slytherins reluctantly made their way up to the tower, dream catchers in hand. Blaise plonked down beside Draco heavily, the chair squeaking loudly in protest as it groaned under the sudden weight. The wood splintered slightly around the chair legs, and Draco edged away to avoid injury should Blaise make any sudden movement.
"Trade dream catchers with your partner. We will take turns analyzing our dreams to see what they indicate of our past omens and future suffering!" Trelawney clapped her hands together and gazed willfully off into the distance. Her gaze was actually locked on Blaise's shoulder, and he wiggled it experimentally to see if it would break her concentration.
When Trelawney set them to their tasks, Draco unenthusiastically traded dream catchers with Blaise. He watched hopelessly as the other boy took the item in his hand, knowing just what he would find there.
The entire time Draco watched Blaise's dreams, he couldn't erase the hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach. He wasn't embarrassed about his dream about Hermione, although he would prefer that Blaise didn't witness his sexual fantasies. But Merlin, when Blaise saw his nightmare about his parents, he wasn't going to let Draco live it down. The other boy already had a tendency to poke his nose into Draco's business out of concern for his friend, but this was one thing Draco wanted to keep to himself. His cheeks flushed angrily. Blaise was going to see him cry in the nightmare as well, as if Draco needed one more person knowing how pathetic he really was, unable to take a scolding from his father without sobbing.
Weakling, his father's voice rang in his head. Draco stiffened, and his focus was shot for the remainder of Blaise's dream.
Finally, the dream world dissolved around him, and Draco found himself back on his squashy chair in Trelawney's classroom. He took a long moment to gather himself, reluctant to acknowledge the other boy sitting silently across from him.
Taking a deep breath, Draco faced Blaise. His stomach dropped when he saw Blaise's forlorn expression. "Drake…" he began quietly, and Draco had to tear his eyes away from his friend's pitying gaze.
"Don't," he said tersely, staring determinedly at his right foot.
"Draco, please…" Blaise pleaded softly, so that no one else could hear them. He leaned forward and tried to capture Draco's wrist on the table, but the blond wrenched it out of his grip.
"I'm fine."
"You don't always have to be fine," Blaise sighed unhappily. Draco gritted his teeth at the show of sympathy. Irrational anger blossomed inside of Draco's chest, making him want to lash out for unbeknownst reasons.
"Are you calling me a liar?" His temper flared. Red tinged his vision, and his fury mingled with his shame at his response. He didn't know why he reacted badly, he knew deep down that Blaise was just trying to help. But a part of him, the part that his father had a firm hold of, wanted to hurt Blaise like he was hurting, if only to get Blaise to leave him alone.
His friend's eyes widened in surprise. He quickly back tracked, "Of course not, I'm just saying-"
"Because I can take his criticism, you know, I'm not weak," Draco insisted in a shaky voice, more for himself than for anyone else.
"No one said you couldn't, Draco, but just because you can take it doesn't mean that you should have to," Blaise said evenly. The calm words cut through the haze of Draco's irritation and caused him to deflate submissively.
"I…I know you're just trying to help, I'm sorry," Draco whispered, eyes squeezing shut in guilt. He sank into himself, head bowing in shame. He had reacted just like his father would, striking out at those who cared.
A strong hand wrapped around Draco's and gave it a firm squeeze. It was an action Draco appreciated more than words. It spoke, I forgive you. Cautiously opening his eyes, Draco shot Blaise a small, grateful smile, which he returned easily.
Just then, Trelawney's face materialized next to their table. Blaise actually shrieked and fell out of his chair. "Remember to write down your dream analysis and pass it in!" The professor sang before she floated away to scare somebody else. Draco's eyes widened and met Blaise's.
"Could you-" Draco began, but Blaise cut him off.
"Already done. I made up that you were falling off a cliff instead, I figured she'd like that," the boy grinned, and Draco snorted. A slow smirk grew on Blaise's face. "And, I took the liberty of omitting that other dream…you know, the one with Granger and the s-"
Draco lunged across the table and clapped a hand over the other Slytherin's mouth. Parchment, ink wells and tablecloths went into a disarray and fell to the floor. A few students turned to see what the commotion was about and whispered to themselves loudly. Draco sighed heavily, prepared to scold Blaise on his antics when he felt a sharp pain in his palm. With a yelp, he retracted his hand and cradled it to his chest. There was a set of teeth marks branded into the delicate skin.
Draco choked incredulously, "You bit me?"
Blaise smiled triumphantly. "I did," he preened, beckoning for Draco's hand and pulling it close to his face. He peered at it, and Draco shivered, not liking how close his hand was to Blaise's teeth. "Look at these perfect chompers, eh? Now you have something to start a conversation with Granger, both her parents are dentists-"
Draco delivered a well-placed kick to the already weakened chair. It fractured beneath Blaise and sent him careening to the floor. Once Draco was finished laughing, Blaise pouted moodily.
"You know, violence doesn't help anything."
"Yes it does," Draco replied. "I feel better now."
"Do you have any phobias?"
"Let's stop stalling, just ask the question already."
"That was the question, Seamus."
"Then why didn't you ask the question like a question?"
"I did!"
"Did not! Why else would everyone be confused and not realize that you already asked the question if they themselves didn't question your question?"
"No one else is confused, Sea."
"Says you-"
Hermione cut Lavender and Seamus off before the argument could go any further. "Luna! How about you start us off! Do you have any phobias?"
The blonde girl pondered this for a moment before answering. "Hmm, I've always been rather frightened by scented candles."
That effectively distracted Seamus and Lavender from their disagreement. "What?" The two asked simultaneously.
"Scented candles give me the willies," Luna shuddered delicately, and Harry attempted a sympathetic sound. It wasn't successful.
"Er, is there a particular scent you are frightened of?" Draco questioned, trying to conceal his bemusement.
"Clean laundry," Luna confirmed. Seamus snapped his fingers excitedly.
"Okay, that I understand. The smell of clean laundry is so unsettling. I prefer my man-sweat and other wholesome odors to that any day."
Draco edged away from Seamus non-too subtly. "Someone else please answer the question," Draco basically begged. Hermione took the matter into her own hands, if only to erase thoughts of Seamus' man odor from her mind.
"I have always had a strange fear of retainers," Hermione admitted, and Lavender frowned.
"What's that?"
"It's something used to help straighten your teeth. My parents are dentists." For some reason, this caused Draco to blush. "Anyways, my parents used to try to put me in them all the time, and sometimes they were painful. I don't know if it qualifies as a phobia, but it is definitely a strange fear of mine," Hermione declared, turning to Lavender next.
"Cotton balls," Lavender said with a shudder. "The texture. Need I say more?"
Draco was about to say that yes, yes she did need to explain a bit further, but Luna elbowed him hard in the side and he yelped instead. "Draco wants to go next," Luna smiled sweetly. He shot her a glare, rubbing his side.
"I guess…if I had to name a phobia it would have to be snakes," he confessed, waiting for the reactions of his group mates.
"Now that's ironic," Harry grinned, and both he and Seamus cackled.
"Why snakes?" Hermione asked, biting her lip to contain her laughter. Draco crinkled his nose.
"They are scaly and slither and their bodies are weird and they creep around everywhere," he visibly shuddered as well. Seamus smirked.
"I knew there was a reason snakes were the Slytherin mascot." Draco shot him a withering look.
"What is your phobia then?" Draco scowled with a huff, arms across over his chest. Unbeknownst to him, the movement accentuated the muscles in his arms, and Lavender and Hermione swooned.
Seamus lost most of his bravado as he mumbled his response. Everybody leaned forward to hear him better. "What?"
"…Mrs. Norris," the Irish boy pouted, hiding his face behind a pillow. The other group members burst into raucous laughter, much to Seamus' dismay.
Draco balked. "And you made fun of me?" It was his turn to cackle.
Seamus scratched the back of his neck. "That's why I couldn't jump in yesterday when you and Harry were being attacked by that cat, Hermione."
"Right, that's the only reason," Hermione replied dryly. She tugged at her hair, the roots still ached from her run in with Filch's cat. She bit her tongue against further comment, choosing instead to turn to Harry. "What about you, Harry? What is your phobia?"
The boy hero propped his foot up on the coffee table and gazed into the distance. "The only thing I have to fear is fear itself," Harry said majestically.
Luna snorted. "Really?" She said flatly. "You just had to wait to say that one last." Everyone murmured in disgruntled agreement, irked by the valiant response. It was even more annoying that his response was true, or else the cards wouldn't have allowed him to say it.
Draco was about to make a scathing remark when Hermione stopped him. "Oh no," she said suddenly, eyes latched onto the notecard in her hand.
Everyone stiffened in alarm. "What is it?" Seamus asked, leaning forward in anticipation.
"There's a backside to the card."
Seamus gasped theatrically and collapsed to the floor.
"And?" Draco prompted slowly, eyebrows raising skeptically. Hermione cleared her throat, adamantly telling herself that he wasn't very attractive when he did so.
"It says that we have to face each of our phobias we just listed."
"How are we supposed to do that?" Harry sat up in interest. His heroic instincts were tingling.
The blond Slytherin perked up. "McGonagall keeps a bunch of scented candles in her private chambers," Draco offered, and Hermione looked askance.
"How do you know that?" She was scandalized when Draco flushed slightly. Harry sat up in alarm.
"Why the bloody hell have you been in McGonagall's bedroom?" He was feeling defensive over his Head of House. "That's….weird," he twitched.
"There's got to be a great story behind this, I want to hear it," Seamus practically bounded over to Draco, kneeling down in front of him like an excited dog waiting for food. Draco's lip curled.
"That's a story for another time, when you're older," Draco patted his head patronizingly.
"Where are we going to find a shit-ton of cotton balls?" Harry asked in interest, oblivious to Lavender's violent shiver.
"It's really okay if we can't find any, you know…" she tried, but Seamus clapped her on the back enthusiastically.
"Don't worry, Lav, I'll personally make sure we can find some for you!"
Lavender muttered, "That's what I was afraid of."
"I say we go with Malfoy and check out McGonagall's room," Harry stood up.
"If we go now, we might be able to break into her rooms. She should still be in the Great Hall, then she'll be doing rounds," Seamus said thoughtfully.
Hermione pulled at her hair in exasperation. "Guys, there is no way we're doing this!"
"I can't believe we're doing this," Hermione moaned as the six teenagers crept down the dark corridor. She had never ventured to this part of the castle before, which held the professors' quarters. It was far out of the way, on the west side of the castle where no student frequented. In all honesty, Hermione had never thought about where the professors might live during the school year. It had never occurred to her. Now, sneaking down the hallway in the torch light, she was curious to see her teachers' rooms.
Draco, for reasons still unexplained, knew where McGonagall's rooms were. He led the way, the others marching obediently behind him. Hermione wasn't sure what they would do if they were caught. They had no viable explanation as to why they would be in the professors corridor. Not to mention that the six of them looked incredibly suspicious creeping along the corridor. Hermione sighed. Best case scenario, they would get detention for a week for invasion of privacy.
They passed by a door labeled 'Severus Snape.' Harry's eyes lit up with mischievous glee. Oh the things he would do to that room. He nearly bounced in excitement. "Can we-"
Hermione patted him on the shoulder. "Another time, Harry." She had to admit that it was hard to resist peeking into Snape's rooms. She wondered if it was a bat cave in there.
Actually, she didn't want to think about Snape's bedroom.
Ew.
Thankfully, Draco stopped at a door tagged 'Minerva McGonagall.' Apprehension was thick in the air as the blond Slytherin slowly eased the door open. Everyone cringed as the hinge squeaked impossibly loud in the otherwise silent corridor. Draco popped his head inside briefly.
"The coast is clear," he whispered before disappearing into the dark room, followed by the rest of them.
Hermione's conscience ate away at her for snooping around one of her admired professor's private chambers. She hesitated only temporarily before stepping through the threshold. The room was undeniably plain. From the light of their lumos she could see stark white walls, a few picture frames, a sagging bookcase, a wardrobe, and a cat bed. There was the distinct smell of kitty litter in the air.
"Just like I've always imagined," Seamus exhaled with a satisfied smile, spreading his arms wide around him. Hermione choked on her spit.
"You've imagined McGonagall's bedroom?!"
"Though, where's the bed, I wonder," the other Gryffindor ignored her, tapping a finger to his chin. Draco snorted.
"Does the absence of a bed ruin your fantasies, Finnigan?"
Double ew, Hermione thought.
Instead of gracing that with a response, Hermione poked about the bedroom. She had to physically stop herself from going near the bookshelf, lest she stay there for hours. A part of her was dying to take a peak at her role model's tomes, but she knew that a few of her group members would tease her mercilessly for it.
Next to the cat bed- McGonagall must prefer to sleep in cat form?- on a side table was a large pile of candles. It almost looked like a shrine. Mildly disturbed, she approached the table and sniffed one of the white candles there. She smiled.
"Clean laundry," she announced, holding the candle up victoriously. She took another wiff. "And 'Aftershave'."
"We can probably take a few, she'll never notice they're missing, she has so many," Draco grabbed a handful and shoved them in his book bag.
Just then, Harry emerged from the bathroom, a triumphant expression on his face. "Look what I found! Cotton balls!" He shook a large bundle of cotton balls in his hand. "Figures she has them, what old lady doesn't."
"EEK! Get those away from me!" Lavender sprang out of the way, dancing to the other side of the room like she was trying to shake a spider off of her back. She crashed into the bookcase and sent many precious books tumbling to the ground. Hermione winced at both the cracked spines and the loud noise.
"Let's get out of here before McGonagall comes back," Hermione suggested just as the door creaked open. All six of them froze as a cat appeared. It's back arched and hissed, and everyone screamed.
"Professor McGonagall!"
The cat hissed again, bright green eyes narrowing. It stalked forward, and Hermione tried to come up with an excuse for why they were in her quarters.
Eventually, Lavender frowned and got closer to the cat. "Guys, calm down, it's just Mrs. Norris."
"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" Seamus dove behind Luna, who side stepped.
"Come on, we should go before the real McGonagall gets here. Lavender, take the cat, too. We need her for Seamus' phobia," Hermione instructed. The other girl automatically crinkled her nose and held the cat out at arm's length for Hermione.
"You take him. Your hair is already a mess, I don't want mine ruined too."
Seeing as Hermione couldn't quite argue with that, she ended up with the cat.
Back in the common room, the six teens lay scattered across the space, draped over the couch, the armchairs, and on the soft rug before the fireplace. Scented candles provided a soft, glowing light for the otherwise dark room. Luna had wrapped a scarf around her head as a face mask to keep the clean laundry scent out. She was humming to herself as though she was walking through a graveyard at midnight, not sitting next to a collection of candles.
Hermione slid down next to Draco, their arms brushing together lightly. Even though it was only a light touch, Hermione's mind zeroed in on the contact. She felt warmth rush through her and she had to hide a smile when Draco slowly pressed his arm against her own more intentionally.
"This actually isn't so bad," Hermione observed, breathing in the soothing scent of clean laundry from the candle. It washed over her senses and made her relax.
"Speak for yourself," Lavender squeaked, eyeing a cotton ball that was much too close for her liking. She was huddled in a ball, rocking herself back and forth as her terrified gaze jumped around the room.
"It could be worse, I guess," Seamus admitted, though he kept a firm eye on Mrs. Norris prowling about in the corner of the room. "When I was younger, I was terrified of being abducted by aliens."
"When did you outgrow it?" Harry asked curiously.
"I never really did."
Everyone coughed awkwardly.
"This isn't fair, Malfoy doesn't have to face his phobia," Lavender whined. The blond raised an eyebrow at her complaints.
"Do you want a bunch of snakes in here?" Her pouting silence was his answer.
"Too bad we didn't look around McGonagall's room for some dentures, we could have used those for Hermione," Seamus mused.
"Rethink that, slowly," Draco stared at him.
They all fell into an uncomfortable silence once more, most of them tense from the physical phobias now present in the room.
"We should talk, you know, bond," Hermione suggested to fill the silence. Luna fell into a coughing fit and said something that sounded suspiciously like "lame."
"Yeahhhh, I just remembered I have a Potions essay I forgot to write," Draco stood suddenly and hauled it towards the staircase.
"No you don't, we're in the same class!" Hermione cried. Draco called down the stairs,
"Extra credit!"
"I have some Ancient Runes to do, too," Luna saddled towards the staircase as well.
"And you don't even take Ancient Runes," Hermione groaned as one by one her group members came up with excuses to leave.
"I've got to go wash the cat," Harry scooped up an angry Mrs. Norris as he sprinted from the room.
"And I'm going to dry it!" Seamus bolted after him.
Soon, it was only Hermione, many cotton balls, the scent of clean laundry, and the hisses of Mrs. Norris. She sighed heavily. At least she had tried.
A loud rumble of thunder shook Hermione awake, and the crack of lightning jolted her upright. Fear shot through her, and she tried to quell her panic as another flash of lightning lit up her bedroom. A shiver ran through her. Ever since she was a child, she had an irrational fear of thunder storms that she couldn't shake. Whenever the weather took a turn for the worse, she always found herself unable to sleep. Grasping blindly for her wand in the darkness, Hermione cast a quick tempus charm. She groaned, it was around two in the morning. Knowing she wouldn't catch any more sleep until the storm passed, she decided to head down to the common room. At least then she could busy herself with some reading.
She jumped as a particularly forceful roll of thunder made her squeak as she trotted down the stairs into the common room, only to find that she wasn't alone. Hermione frowned at the back of the blond head on the couch, recalling the last time they had been awake past midnight. That hadn't ended well. Hesitantly, she ambled over to the couch, catching the tired grey eyes. He spotted her immediately.
"Why are you awake?" Draco rubbed a hand down his face in exhaustion. He cast her a glance and scooted over to make room on the couch for her.
"I never sleep well during thunder storms," Hermione settled down beside him hesitantly, curling her feet up under her. "Why are you awake? Same reason?" she questioned curiously.
The blond yawned slightly, hiding it behind his hand. "Partly."
"Nightmares?" Hermione asked knowingly, thinking back to the dream she saw through the dream catcher. Beside her, she felt him stiffen.
"I…that too," he admitted tiredly.
"About your parents?"
As soon as it was out of her mouth, she knew it was the wrong thing to say. She wished should could pull the regretful words back in, but the damage was already done. His eyes narrowed noticeably and his mouth turned downward at the corners. The couch shifted as he turned to face her fully.
"What are you playing at?" His voice teetered threateningly on the edge of puzzlement and indignation. Dark eyes bore into her, as though looking straight through her and whatever lies she was about to tell. Hermione swallowed nervously, attempting for nonchalance.
"It was just a guess." It was obvious that he wasn't buying it, for he frowned further.
"Why would you think that?" He asked in bewilderment, his defenses clearly reconstructing themselves.
"I mean, all of your negative behavior has to stem from somewhere, and in most cases teen aggression is a result of another intimidator in their life that instigates the abusive behavior of the offspring-"
Draco spluttered in bafflement, mouth opening and closing in shock. "Intimidator? Aggression? A-abusive?" He fell back on the couch away from her. "You think I'm abusive?" Behind the icy mask he was desperately trying to construct, Hermione could see the hurt welling in his eyes. Something panged inside her chest and she cringed as she rethought her words.
"I just mean that your behavior might indicate that your parents are…" she trailed off as she saw the anger tightening his frame.
"That my parents are what, Granger?" he asked quietly. His low voice sounded dangerous and scared her more than him yelling would have.
"I heard you crying in your sleep last night," Hermione quipped. It was a lie, of course, but it was easier than confessing that she had activated his dream catcher. However, it seemed it didn't matter that it was a lie on her part, for it must have held some truth to it gauging by his reaction. His cheeks flushed dark pink at the idea of her hearing him cry because of a nightmare. She watched solemnly as his face shuttered and closed off, his mouth pressing into a firm line.
"Stay out of it, okay? You don't know anything about my parents, or me, apparently, so do us both a favor and back off!" His voice gained volume with each word, though still not loud enough to wake the other group members.
She hated being backed into a corner. Admittedly she knew she didn't have the best temper, and when someone accused her of something, it was inevitable that she would eventually explode and defend herself. Despite her attempts not to, Hermione felt her skin begin to prickle with anger.
She scoffed. "This is so typical. I try to reach out and help, but you refuse to get help from anyone, especially a mudblood. How silly of me to even try! I should have just let you suffer alone, and saved us both the embarrassment of me attempting to comfort you."
It was a stretch, she knew, but she was getting angry, and the thunder echoing in the background did nothing to ease her rankling nerves.
His dark eyes flashed. "All I said was to get out of my business, I made no reference to your blood status," he said very slowly.
"Oh, you didn't have to, it's always there, isn't it? My blood can't just go away. It's only a pity that you fell for all of that prejudiced blood supremacy bull shit that your abusive parents spewed at you."
It was a low blow. His hands trembled in frustration and disbelief at the sudden turn in conversation. He seemed to be searching for what part of her argument he should respond to first.
"Maybe my parents aren't the best people out there, and maybe they believe in blood supremacy, but I didn't have the chance to believe any different," he said lowly, his voice almost a growl in his throat.
Hermione sneered. "Everyone has a chance, Malfoy. You have the ability to change your views anytime you'd like, you're just too cowardly to stand up for yourself and do so."
That set him off even further. "You don't know anything about me!"
"I know that you're a slimy, prejudiced, arrogant git, willing to sell his soul and become a Death Eater at a moment's notice! It's a shame, you've actually been decent this past week, but we all know what's lying under the surface."
If she thought he was angry before, he was absolutely livid now. "This is exactly what I'm talking about!" He sprang to his feet, hands clenching into fists as he began to pace.
"What?"
"You know absolutely nothing about me!" He yelled, his voice ringing through the empty common room. Upstairs, a door opened softly.
Hermione didn't care if she woke the others at this point. She was angry and she didn't even remember why. "I know that you blindly follow all of your Pureblood Supremacy shit!"
"You think I had a choice!"
"Everyone has a choice!" She leapt to her feet as well.
"A choice? You really think that I had a choice? You think that any of us Slytherins had a choice? Hell, the moment we were sorted into Slytherin house, we no longer had a choice!" Draco laughed hollowly. The lightning flashed outside again, creating a shocking silhouette of his body against the window.
"What are you talking about? And what does Slytherin have to do with any of this?" Hermione exclaimed in annoyance that he was changing the subject.
"It has everything to do with it!"
"You're not making any sense-"
He pushed a hand roughly through his hair once more, sending it in all directions. "Of course you don't think I'm making any sense. Of course I can't expect you to even begin to comprehend any of this," he shook his head in aggravation.
Hermione pursed her lips, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "What-
"You shunned us! All of us! The Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs, and even the professors," he cried. "The moment we were claimed by Slytherin, you automatically believed that all of us had the same, evil intentions as the Dark Lord! Gone were the innocent first years who were just as scared as you, and instead you saw us as filthy Death Eaters, willing to bow down at the Dark Lord's feet and commit heinous crimes. You automatically considered us evil and full of dark magic."
"And do you know why Slytherin house is charged for turning out dark wizards? Because the single most darkest wizard of the world came from our house. Yet it wasn't the wizard, or even the professors who could have done something about it, that took the blame. It was our house that shouldered all of the blame. And why?" he barked out a sardonic laugh. "I don't even know why you all assumed that it was our fault. It's our fault that the Dark Lord exists today. It's our fault that he's killed thousands of people. It's our fault that he has his beliefs."
Draco halted his exasperated pacing and flung his hands up in frustration. "And no, I can't blame you for not understanding this. I can't blame you for not knowing why these stereotypes exist. But I can blame you for, and I do blame you, for following through with them! Tell me, have you ever actually talked to a Slytherin before, Granger? Before this stupid bonding class that forced you to have an actual conversation with me. Have you spoken to at least one of us, before you made the assumption that we were just more spineless murders? How ironic it is, that I'm the one telling you this. That you, with all of your stupid muggle-born pride, you, constantly spewing out shit about equality, are the blindest of all!"
Hermione was frozen on her feet, her body numb in shock. Her throat burned to throw out a nasty response, but she was stunned silent. She could only watch, paralyzed, as the Slytherin Ice Prince finally unraveled before her eyes.
"And you know what's the worst part? The worst part is the sheer helplessness. Do you know how crushing it is, realizing at such a young age, that you aren't given a single chance? Not one, bloody fighting chance to even prove myself to anybody before you labeled me as a prejudiced bastard, just like my parents? Granted, these assumptions are true. We're trapped. We can scream and shout all we like, but it's lost on your deaf ears. Slytherin house, hell, my name, is enough for you to lose all questions of whether or not I can be something. You can't begin to imagine the loneliness, the hopelessness, and all for what, your predetermined shit about us. You have no idea how that feels. But I guess you wouldn't even consider that. Because we aren't human like the rest of you. We don't feel. But hell, you're wrong. We feel more than you do. We feel the rejection, and it hurts a whole fucking lot."
Pain ripped through her chest and the thunder boomed around them. She wanted to deny it with all her being, but in her heart she knew that what he was saying was true, and that made it hurt even worse. She couldn't ignore the crippling honesty in his words, and it tore her apart.
"Dammit, Granger," Draco continued, his voice quieting with defeat. He looked utterly exhausted and hurt. "Unless you know that they aren't, let my house mates be innocent. Let them be kids. Let them be free. Don't force them into believing that the Dark Lord is the only option.
You hated me because of my beliefs. Because you were a Mudblood to me, and you always would be. Because I believed I was superior. Because I too was prejudiced against you. But it's a two way street. And you know why I hate all of you? Because you haven't given me a chance at the equality you say we all deserve!"
"So the next time you go accusing someone of being a blind, prejudiced asshole, ask yourself this. Are we really any different?"
The silence was deafening.
Her entire body was shaking, and she could see that his was too. His breath released in a rasping exhale, and his icy exterior crumbled within seconds, revealing a broken expression underneath. She yearned to reach out, but she feared that nothing she said right now would comfort him. With a start, she realized how truly alone Draco Malfoy felt. The thought brutally tugged at her heart strings. She desperately sought for the right words, but her tongue was empty. She wanted to scream and pout that he wasn't right, that it was all lies, but she couldn't.
Gods, how long had he been bottling all of that emotion up inside of him for him to explode like that? And to bare his heart to Hermione of all people? She didn't think she had ever seen Malfoy so vulnerable in her life. The explosive argument left the two reeling in the aftermath.
"Draco," she choked, whatever she had been hoping to say dying in her throat. Without another word, he stormed out of the common room, even though it was the middle of the night. The portrait slammed shut, ringing with chilling finality. She was alone.
She numbly staggered towards the stairs, only to find Harry, Lavender, Seamus, and Luna huddled at the top. They stared at her with wide eyes, each of them rendered speechless by shock.
"Are you okay?" Lavender asked softly. Hermione nodded, still in a daze.
"I'm sorry we woke you," Hermione murmured, ashamed.
"It's alright, I wasn't sleeping very well because of the storm anyways," Lavender sank down onto the steps. With trembling legs, Hermione joined her. "What brought that on?" Lavender questioned gently. Harry, Luna, and Seamus settled beside them as well.
"I…I was being invasive about something private, and when he told me to mind my own business, I…basically called him heartless and accused him of being prejudiced towards muggle-borns." Hermione hid behind her hair, her heart still pounding in her chest as his argument rang through her ears.
"He's not right, is he? He's just being overdramatic," Seamus reasoned uncomfortably, restless with the accusations Draco had put forward. The five teens clustered tighter around each other in the stairwell. They were afraid to answer.
"I'm worried about him," Luna whispered. "He shouldn't be out alone this late, especially when he's not thinking clearly."
"I've never seen him that upset," Harry shook his head in astonishment.
"I never should have pushed him that far. I should have known better," Hermione buried her face in her hands, her shoulders quivering with withheld sobs.
Lavender gathered her jumper around herself uncertainly. "Should we go after him?"
Flustered by the suggestion, Hermione shook her head vehemently. "I doubt that he wants to see us of all people right now. Especially if we are the reason he was pushed over the edge and lost it tonight."
"Then what can we do?" Lavender's face fell in anguish.
"He needs space," Harry decided.
That was the problem, though, finding the balance between giving space and being absent. He needed to breathe and recuperate by himself, but how far should they keep themselves? If they gave him too much space, it would appear as though his desperation had fallen on deaf ears, and his fears had been ignored. That would be unbearable.
Because there was nothing in the world the five teens wanted less than for the Slytherin to think that they did not care.
I really appreciate your feedback, let me know what you think!
AN: I know this chapter was more serious than the last, I feel that if the characters are going to connect, then a lot of the dramatics and angst need to be dealt with near the beginning for them to get anywhere. I think this story will have a mix of funny and serious moments.
Review :)