(A/N: probably done before but I want to try my hand at HP. ^_^ My first HP fanfic. Yay!)
Rated PG13 (maybe R in later chapters) Romance/Angst/Mystery/Tragedy/Humour(the last part is on occasion)
Chapter 1:
~~~
An anguished moan tore from a young man in the middle of the night. Other occupants in the room slept noisily, as if even earthquakes couldn't wake them. Crabbe and Goyle snored in the far corners of the emerald chamber they all shared while their Slytherin leader woke, cursing over and over again,
"Bloody hell! No! I can't believe it! Merlin's ghost! What the shit?"
The curses penetrated throughout the darkened Slytherin area where Harry Potters archenemy, Draco Malfoy slept. And if the boy who lived knew how unrestful his nemesis sleeping hours were it would probably give him a satisfied smile. Draco on the other hand shook with shock and this time, he awoke with sweat beading down his face, the pounding of his heart quickened noisily in his ear fearing that it could be heard within that chamber. It was the 3rd time that week he has had that same dream. What was it about dreams they said, in the wizarding world, where you dreamt something more than three times? He didn't take much notice to it before and realized that it was near dawn.
Just as well. He'd like to get a head start and head for the library before anyone else does. He breathed out a long shuddering sigh. Maybe picking up a book on dreaming would help alleviate matters with answers he no longer wanted to look for from his father. He decided to shower and dress, preparing himself for the daily routine of the day. At least Quidditch practice wouldn't begin till tomorrow.
~~~
On the other side of the building, Hermione had been sleeping restlessly and awoke several times throughout the night. Sometimes going out for something to drink and found to her disconcertment that the dreams she has been having were about someone she absolutely despised. Daring not to reveal this information to Harry or Ron just yet, thinking it to be something of a coincidental nightmare, she decided this morning she'd go to the library to find out about dreaming and nightmares. A witch like her, albeit in her 7th year was more advanced than even some of the newer professors. Hermione laid back on her bed, recounting what kind of dream she had and with further inspection realized that this dream somehow relates to Malfoy. Disgusting as that was she wanted to find out what her connection to the despicable pureblooded jerk was to her sleeping hours.
Hermione finished her early shower and dressed warmly with her usual Gryffindor thick scarf, clean robes and her soft wavy thick hair brushed. She'd head out to get a cup of tea and something to eat on the way to the library and if she's lucky, get to find what it is exactly she was looking for, for she was not even sure herself. Thankfully all her homework finished and set aside to be graded and turned in; she couldn't wait to make some kind of research on the development of dreams and nightmares.
Her earlier thoughts went to the reasoning behind being a witch and since she was able to control what went on in the real world, she could possibly try and understand what went on in the dream world. Maybe the nightmares of Malfoy were representative of something evil for he was an evil Slytherin git. With a determined air, she picked up her bag and headed towards the kitchens. The early morning smells of fresh baked bread and delicious ground roasted coffee wafted through the halls heading towards the dining areas. In another hour, the rest of the Hogwarts population would be awake and getting ready for the day. Hermione picked up her pace and rushed towards the direction of the breakfast smells.
~~~
Draco Malfoy picked up several heavy bound books and sat at the very corner of the library, hoping no one would disturb his research. Flipping through the pages, he came upon a heading, entitled: Spells to invoke nightmares. It was definitely dark arts and since they have finally found a DADA professor to be permanent with the lessons, they have not come to this stage of the lecture. Nightmares and dream worlds were not part of these defenses…..yet. A dream that had anything to do with a mudblood was definitely nothing more than a nightmare.
It left him sweating in the middle of the night and if this kept up, he'd considered going to Madame Pomfrey for something along the lines of sleeping draughts, heavily laced to knock oneself out, like a black out after an alcoholics day of heavy drinking. Anything was better than having to shack up in the same dream with a mudblood and considering the nature of the dreams, he was deliberating to ask about a potion from Professor Snape over counteracting this invasion. He didn't like to discuss these things with Crabbe and Goyle, knowing full well he'd only get grunts and nods from them, confusion marring their expressions. Pansy would only get jealous and wonder why she wasn't in his dreams.
Going further, he turned the pages, sees the headings of food and dream relations and quickly disregards them. Nothing seemed to strike him as important and he set the book immediately aside, taking another in its place to research on. So far he's found many on performing spells and rituals over dreams and crossing over. He bit his lower lip and sat back, ran a hand over his silver blond locks and sighed. A noise cut through his reverie in that long silence and he didn't move from his lounging position. It was probably some 1st year student come cramming before class or one of the professors. He thought about going to Professor Binns about history of magic but what would an old ghost know about sleeping?
~~~
Hermione looked through the section of dreams and nightmares and noticed several books were missing from that area. With a frustrated groan, she took what she could from the remaining books offered to her and thankful for the lack of people in the library. The orange juice and croissants were a delightful breakfast treat and put her in a fairly good mood this morning. Maybe later she'd tell Harry and Ron about her nightmares and they could help her figure this out. She highly doubted it and maybe Harry would further investigate it for he had the luckiest disposition anyone has ever been born into. With Harry, he could get into terrible scrapes and come out alive, all in one piece. It's as if the lightning mark on him was meant as a rabbits foot or a four leaf clover of sorts. Whatever the case, she was glad for it.
When she turned the corner to find a place to sit, it was with surprise that her eyes collided with those of a particular grey eyed student who invaded her very dreams. A soft intake of breath made a noise from her throat and quickly dispersed it as she looked into the very person that came at her with that same self satisfying sneer. Figures he'd start the day to speak in his usual drawl,
"Why if it isn't the little mudblood. Up early to get more points for Gryffindor?"
He just couldn't help it. She just invoked those deep hated feelings in him. She not only irked him when she defended her two best friends Weasley and Potty, giving him the worst and humiliating comebacks that she alone could do but now she had to go and assault his sleeping hours too.
She glared at him. Hermione was not all too pleased to see him and having just finished that glass of orange juice in quick great big gulps, her stomach felt like roller coasting on her from the sight of his face. It's not that he wasn't good looking if you like that sort of thing. Always sneering, slicked back silver blond hair and stone grey blue eyes that penetrate to your soul, as if he were trying to strip you of everything honorable.
Hermione didn't realize how much she hated someone like his kind and hate was not a vocabulary that she'd indulged in all her seventeen years. Knowing full well she was not just any girl at Hogwarts, because she didn't indulge in the insipid fancies of looks and status. It was obvious who and what she was. Depending mainly on her intellect and the support of her two best friends, she considered herself quite lucky.
"I would ask the same of you, Malfoy. But since I don't care what you do, just leave me alone."
With that sharp retort, Hermione sat right across from him, her thoughts whirling in angry confusion, so irritated that he was here. She picked up her books and turned the pages, hoping that he would go away. And her morning was suppose to go so well too.
"Dreams and nightmares, Granger?"
She slowly looked up from above her book and lifted her chin at him.
"What of it, Malfoy?"
Rated PG13 (maybe R in later chapters) Romance/Angst/Mystery/Tragedy/Humour(the last part is on occasion)
Chapter 1:
~~~
An anguished moan tore from a young man in the middle of the night. Other occupants in the room slept noisily, as if even earthquakes couldn't wake them. Crabbe and Goyle snored in the far corners of the emerald chamber they all shared while their Slytherin leader woke, cursing over and over again,
"Bloody hell! No! I can't believe it! Merlin's ghost! What the shit?"
The curses penetrated throughout the darkened Slytherin area where Harry Potters archenemy, Draco Malfoy slept. And if the boy who lived knew how unrestful his nemesis sleeping hours were it would probably give him a satisfied smile. Draco on the other hand shook with shock and this time, he awoke with sweat beading down his face, the pounding of his heart quickened noisily in his ear fearing that it could be heard within that chamber. It was the 3rd time that week he has had that same dream. What was it about dreams they said, in the wizarding world, where you dreamt something more than three times? He didn't take much notice to it before and realized that it was near dawn.
Just as well. He'd like to get a head start and head for the library before anyone else does. He breathed out a long shuddering sigh. Maybe picking up a book on dreaming would help alleviate matters with answers he no longer wanted to look for from his father. He decided to shower and dress, preparing himself for the daily routine of the day. At least Quidditch practice wouldn't begin till tomorrow.
~~~
On the other side of the building, Hermione had been sleeping restlessly and awoke several times throughout the night. Sometimes going out for something to drink and found to her disconcertment that the dreams she has been having were about someone she absolutely despised. Daring not to reveal this information to Harry or Ron just yet, thinking it to be something of a coincidental nightmare, she decided this morning she'd go to the library to find out about dreaming and nightmares. A witch like her, albeit in her 7th year was more advanced than even some of the newer professors. Hermione laid back on her bed, recounting what kind of dream she had and with further inspection realized that this dream somehow relates to Malfoy. Disgusting as that was she wanted to find out what her connection to the despicable pureblooded jerk was to her sleeping hours.
Hermione finished her early shower and dressed warmly with her usual Gryffindor thick scarf, clean robes and her soft wavy thick hair brushed. She'd head out to get a cup of tea and something to eat on the way to the library and if she's lucky, get to find what it is exactly she was looking for, for she was not even sure herself. Thankfully all her homework finished and set aside to be graded and turned in; she couldn't wait to make some kind of research on the development of dreams and nightmares.
Her earlier thoughts went to the reasoning behind being a witch and since she was able to control what went on in the real world, she could possibly try and understand what went on in the dream world. Maybe the nightmares of Malfoy were representative of something evil for he was an evil Slytherin git. With a determined air, she picked up her bag and headed towards the kitchens. The early morning smells of fresh baked bread and delicious ground roasted coffee wafted through the halls heading towards the dining areas. In another hour, the rest of the Hogwarts population would be awake and getting ready for the day. Hermione picked up her pace and rushed towards the direction of the breakfast smells.
~~~
Draco Malfoy picked up several heavy bound books and sat at the very corner of the library, hoping no one would disturb his research. Flipping through the pages, he came upon a heading, entitled: Spells to invoke nightmares. It was definitely dark arts and since they have finally found a DADA professor to be permanent with the lessons, they have not come to this stage of the lecture. Nightmares and dream worlds were not part of these defenses…..yet. A dream that had anything to do with a mudblood was definitely nothing more than a nightmare.
It left him sweating in the middle of the night and if this kept up, he'd considered going to Madame Pomfrey for something along the lines of sleeping draughts, heavily laced to knock oneself out, like a black out after an alcoholics day of heavy drinking. Anything was better than having to shack up in the same dream with a mudblood and considering the nature of the dreams, he was deliberating to ask about a potion from Professor Snape over counteracting this invasion. He didn't like to discuss these things with Crabbe and Goyle, knowing full well he'd only get grunts and nods from them, confusion marring their expressions. Pansy would only get jealous and wonder why she wasn't in his dreams.
Going further, he turned the pages, sees the headings of food and dream relations and quickly disregards them. Nothing seemed to strike him as important and he set the book immediately aside, taking another in its place to research on. So far he's found many on performing spells and rituals over dreams and crossing over. He bit his lower lip and sat back, ran a hand over his silver blond locks and sighed. A noise cut through his reverie in that long silence and he didn't move from his lounging position. It was probably some 1st year student come cramming before class or one of the professors. He thought about going to Professor Binns about history of magic but what would an old ghost know about sleeping?
~~~
Hermione looked through the section of dreams and nightmares and noticed several books were missing from that area. With a frustrated groan, she took what she could from the remaining books offered to her and thankful for the lack of people in the library. The orange juice and croissants were a delightful breakfast treat and put her in a fairly good mood this morning. Maybe later she'd tell Harry and Ron about her nightmares and they could help her figure this out. She highly doubted it and maybe Harry would further investigate it for he had the luckiest disposition anyone has ever been born into. With Harry, he could get into terrible scrapes and come out alive, all in one piece. It's as if the lightning mark on him was meant as a rabbits foot or a four leaf clover of sorts. Whatever the case, she was glad for it.
When she turned the corner to find a place to sit, it was with surprise that her eyes collided with those of a particular grey eyed student who invaded her very dreams. A soft intake of breath made a noise from her throat and quickly dispersed it as she looked into the very person that came at her with that same self satisfying sneer. Figures he'd start the day to speak in his usual drawl,
"Why if it isn't the little mudblood. Up early to get more points for Gryffindor?"
He just couldn't help it. She just invoked those deep hated feelings in him. She not only irked him when she defended her two best friends Weasley and Potty, giving him the worst and humiliating comebacks that she alone could do but now she had to go and assault his sleeping hours too.
She glared at him. Hermione was not all too pleased to see him and having just finished that glass of orange juice in quick great big gulps, her stomach felt like roller coasting on her from the sight of his face. It's not that he wasn't good looking if you like that sort of thing. Always sneering, slicked back silver blond hair and stone grey blue eyes that penetrate to your soul, as if he were trying to strip you of everything honorable.
Hermione didn't realize how much she hated someone like his kind and hate was not a vocabulary that she'd indulged in all her seventeen years. Knowing full well she was not just any girl at Hogwarts, because she didn't indulge in the insipid fancies of looks and status. It was obvious who and what she was. Depending mainly on her intellect and the support of her two best friends, she considered herself quite lucky.
"I would ask the same of you, Malfoy. But since I don't care what you do, just leave me alone."
With that sharp retort, Hermione sat right across from him, her thoughts whirling in angry confusion, so irritated that he was here. She picked up her books and turned the pages, hoping that he would go away. And her morning was suppose to go so well too.
"Dreams and nightmares, Granger?"
She slowly looked up from above her book and lifted her chin at him.
"What of it, Malfoy?"