Author: Dany
Rated: PG-13 (for now)
Spoilers: So far none.
Summary: Some things can only be seen from a distance. Some people can only be loved, when they were hated first. D/H SLASH
Disclaimer: I do not claim or own the characters. I'm just borrowing them :)
Feedback: Sure, mail me/review and tell me what you think :)

Author's Note: Thanks for the lovely reviews =) I'm glad you guys like it! This story is set in Harry's and Draco's seventh Year at School. I think some questions will be answered, once you've read this chapter. Enjoy =) and please review!


Part Two: Dream of a Saviour


It's in the library where we meet again.

It's a dream I had last night that convinces me to go to the library in the first place. I'm not often seen in this place, where these dusty bookshelfs and their torn books stare blankly back at me, willing me to put them out of their shelves and brush the dust off them. I don't like the library. It reminds me of home.

As I enter the room Madam Pince looks up from whatever she was doing and eyes me for a moment before going back to work and ignoring me completely. My feet drag me past these shelves. No one seems to be around and I know I must walk till the end of the hall to get to my destination: the Divination section.

But before I can get there, I walk past another bookshelf and I can see someone out of the corner of my eye. Before I even turn my head I know it's you who's sitting there, leaning over a book with those half closed eyes of yours.

For a moment I stand there completely frozen, unaware of the fact that I should be moving, and watch you turn another page of the book. My gaze lingers on your hands for a moment and I watch them glide over the page in an almost sad manner before you crease the page by turning it. Something about it lets me hesitate before I walk past you to find the book I came for.

Standing before my own bookshelf now, I scowl at those old books, their letters of gold already fading. For the first few moments I do not find anything until my gaze stops at the clear silver writing of Our dreams and their meanings. I pull the book out and stare at it for a moment before turning around and walking back along the hallway, fully intending to take the book with me and read it in my dorm room.

But when I'm about to walk by on you my steps suddenly falter and my feet protest against any sort of movement. As I turn my head to watch you again some part of me warns me from doing so but it is already too late. Because now my eyes are fixed back on those hands of yours and when you turn another page I realize that I should go. But I also realize something else.

I cannot do that.

The book feels heavy in my hands and I feel like it will slip out of them any moment. Suddenly my feet are moving again, dragging me towards you but it seems like my brain is still detached from my body. Finally when I'm two feet away from you, you look up – ready to cast one of your dark glances – and look me straight in the eye.

I hold my breath as I look into these green fires for a moment before I can see you tensing. It seems like you're not too happy to see, are you? Not that I didn't expect that anyway. No one is welcome by you anymore. Even Weasley learned that.

You shut down your book quickly and are about to stand up and flee from me (from yourself) but we both know that I won't let you this time, so you sit back down as quickly as you stood up. I hear you sigh, almost defeated.

Leave me alone. You say, looking down at your book, your fingers dancing over the letters. I watch them for a second before answering. No. I can do that no longer. Why am I standing here? Why am I not leaving? I don't understand what's happening to me. But I know it's your fault. It's all your fault.

You wanted a saviour. Here he is. I'm shocked to hear my voice only slightly sarcastic, so deep, so intense, so real. But you don't look up, you don't even blink and I get frustrated by watching your fingers dance over the cover again and again. Why is it that you are paying your book more attention than me?

My thoughts are interrupted by your mocking laugh, but it sounds hollow and dead. I shudder and I know I hate your laughters so much.

My saviour?! You say and snicker darkly. You can never be my saviour, Malfoy! You can't save anyone and certainly not me. I glare at you, something in me so angry that I can barely control it.

It takes another glance at your fingers to shatter my control and I see myself pull you out of your chair and roughly against me. Since when have I become so touchy, I wonder silently and then I look down at you.

Goddamn you, look at me.

You slowly lift your head and I'm bathed in this green ocean, these cold waters and hot flames. For a moment, I just stare, thinking about these eyes that remind me so much of the fire in the Slytherin common room. We stare at each other and I can see something changing in those eyes. I don't know what it is but my grip on your robe loosens a bit anyway.

I don't know what you dream about at night or what you wish for when you're awake. But what I do know is that you've been calling out for someone for a long time now. Well you think no one has heard you screaming? You think no one has seen you cry these tears of bitterness? I have. I have for the longest time now and do you know what?

I pull you closer, my lips brushing your ear, both our breaths being uneven and hitched. I can almost feel you tremble against me.

I hate it. It drives me completely mad, it tears my skin apart and makes me have nightmares at night. I can't stand it any longer, these dark rooms and silent screams. I cannot stand the pain that I feel everyday. This pain that I feel because of you. And even if I shut my eyes, even if I shut my ears with my hands, I can still hear you, even louder than before. There is no place I can go that I can't feel you, no moment that I can stop thinking of you. Stop watching you. It has to end. It's got to stop.

Silence is all that is left now, our bodies pressed against each other, or breaths ragged and our minds full of thoughts. I can only remember half of what I said but I know that whatever it was it had to be said. It's strange but I feel better now.

I'm no longer gripping your robe but you still don't move away, looking up into my eyes as if you are looking in them for the very first time. There's so much I can see in those eyes now, so much fear and uncertainty. So much passion. It takes my breathe away.

I'm sorry. You finally whisper but I do not know what you're talking about. I watch as you step back, gathering up your book and walking by on me. I turn around and watch your back.

For what? I hear myself asking dumbly and you spin around, looking at me and there's something different. Your body is not tense any longer and your hands have stopped dancing over the book. They are gripping it firmly now.

For not believing. You say softly before you turn away from me and walk out of the library, leaving me with my Dreams book in my hand. For a moment, I stand there, moved yet frozen before I look down on the cover. Our dreams and their meanings, these letters stare back at me as if to mock me.

And then I smile. I smile because I know that I don't need this book any longer. Because I've just realized the meaning of my dream.