Dedicated to my best friend Sinead (Yotama). Thank you so much for introducing me to FanFiction and for being you!!!
Denial
Draco Malfoy woke up in the Slytherin sixth year boys' dorm. He'd had that dream again. The dream. The one he hated having, but at the same time went to bed earlier every night to get the dream. Stupid, yeah, but logic had never really mattered much to Draco. He sat upright, his hands sweating furiously. Damn it, what the hell was happening to him?
He heard a sound in the room. He looked across to the bed across from him to see Crabbe waking up.
"Did ya say summat Draco?" he asked groggily.
"What?!" Draco spat in an angry whisper.
"I thought I heard you say something."
"Well I guess you thought wrong idiot."
Crabbe looked at him for a minute, still looking puzzled. But then he always was a bit clueless. Much like Goyle. Both of them, two clueless brutes. But they came in useful sometimes. Sometimes.
"Oh." He finally said. "Sorry Draco."
Draco motioned him to go back to sleep with a swift flick of his hand. Crabbe lay back down immediately. After a few moments Draco flopped back on his own bed. That was close. If Crabbe had woken up any earlier, he would have heard exactly what he had said. Her name. Her beautiful name. He was actually, thoroughly convinced he was in love with her. This was a whole new league. Like was one thing, crush was different. But love. That was big.
But he had to ignore it. He was a Malfoy. He wasn't supposed to feel things like that. Especially not for her sort. What the hell would his dad say? Lucius Malfoy's opinion had never bothered Draco that much in the past, but if his father tried to kill him, that would have somewhat of an impact on his life. For example, the termination of it. No one would ever guess his feelings for her – he just had to keep it that way. He'd managed it for the last few years; all he had to do was act like he hated her. Admittedly, it would tear him up (cue cheesy muggle book) but he could do it. Maybe.
He sighed. At least he wasn't in denial anymore. That was a good sign, right. At least he was admitting it, to himself anyhow. He hadn't actually said it aloud yet. Did that make a difference? "Probably" a little voice in his head said. It sounded like a younger Malfoy. God did he really used to sound that obnoxious? And why was he asking himself questions? In his head, nonetheless. He was a psycho.
He contemplated saying it out. Yes no yes no. No. What if Crabbe was still awake? In response, he heard a huge snore erupt from Crabbe's lumbering form. No chance was that oaf awake. He thought about getting up and checking everyone else's nocturnal behaviour. Then he remembered he was a lazy git and so stayed put. Nah, no one would hear him. Not if he whispered it.
"I am in love with a bloody mudblood." He seethed.
Then he thought of the 'bloody mudblood'. Her hair, her eyes, her lips – everything. He made a personal reminder never to call her by that name again. He tried again, in a barely audible whisper.
"I am in love…with Hermione Granger."