Prompt: 11; Dreams
Word Count: 398
A/N: Treat it like modern art: tilt your head to one side, squint your eyes, and you'll get the point. ^^
Kind of inspired by For Thine is the Kingdom by blahnicity (on LJ) and also VickyVicarious's 'Doorway' drabble. Kind of.
The Man of Her Dreams
-x-
The first time she meets him in her dreams, the mist creeps steadily around her ankles and she stares at him in confused surprise. Why should her subconscious conjure up him in her most vulnerable moments?
"Draco Malfoy," she murmurs. The name slips out unbidden and with startling ease, rolling off her tongue in a way it has never done when she was awake.
"You're dead," she points out, though she's not sure who she's pointing that fact out to. It's more likely to reinforce the insanity of talking to the recently deceased.
His response is enigmatic. "Only if you want me to be."
"No, no," she counters. "You're dead. I saw you die in the second battle at the Ministry. You were hit with the Killing Curse; you died."
He simply smirks with infuriating charm while Ginny tries hard not to sputter, and she wakes up before she can kill him again herself.
It takes a while for her to get used to his presence and several dreams later the mist curls around her knees like a welcoming pet, seeping through the material of her threadbare robe to chill her legs.
"Why are you still here?" she asks him curiously. She's given up trying to kill him now; this Zen-like atmosphere doesn't exactly encourage homicidal urges, and, besides, what could Malfoy do in her dream?
"I guess I haven't really moved on," he answers absently.
Ginny is confused; her imagination has created a most intriguing Malfoy. Maybe that's why when he moves towards her and lifts a hand to touch her hair, she doesn't flinch. He's only doing what she wants him to do after all, because it is her dream.
Despite this, she is still startled awake by his gentle kiss.
Now the mist is swirling sinisterly around her waist as she stares around the dull void. Well, void of everything save the man in front of her. How is it that she has never realized the colour of his eyes exactly matches the colour of this emptiness? They are so close now that she is only mildly surprised by the similarity.
She feels so at peace here, with this Malfoy of her imagination. So it is no far stretch for her to accept his extended hand and allow him to pull her deeper into the ever encroaching mist. Nothing will startle her awake this time.
-fin-
