Draco sat straight up in bed with a start. He was having that damn dream again. With a sigh, he rolled on his side, letting the heavy blankets keeping the chill off slide to one side, exposing his bare muscular chest as he peered into the darkness to see his clocks. One read 'Obscene Hour to Be Awake' and the other read 3:45. Too late to go back to sleep, too early for him to be truly rested. Damn dream. When is it going to stop? He hated the dream, because it felt so real.
In the dream, he could see her ahead of him, with her beautiful red hair flowing over her shoulders, her arms hugging herself tightly, holding a translucent dressing robe shut over what he suspected was a very risqué` nightgown, her long pale legs carrying her farther from him with every tap of her slippers against the carpeted floor. She wasn't moving fast, but when he called for her, she seemed to pause and keep moving at the same time. She got farther and farther and if he ran she just disappeared all the sooner, out of his sight, but leaving him chasing until he woke up. What he hated most about the dream was not how real it all was, but that he wanted to catch her.
Why can't I just let her walk away? What is so special about her that I must catch her? He asked himself these questions every night, and his answer scared him. He wanted to catch her, the filthy girl who was friends with mudbloods, because he wanted her. He wanted to find out how fast he could get lost in her sparkling eyes, and if her skin was really that pale and delicate up close. He, Draco, was lusting after her when he had almost complete access to almost all of the other girls in the school.
Shoving his blankets completely off, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood up, stretching with a feline grace that was completely unparalleled. Adjusting the waistband of his boxers, he stalked over to the window seat, pulled out his journal, and began to write. Thank god nobody knows about this journal, he thought as he wrote out a poem for her, my life would be over before it began. He stared out the window, compared her to the sunrise, and waited for a new day.