Authors Notes:

This was my first serious attempt at fanfiction of any kind, therefore it is a little shaky. Mucho love to my wonderful beta, Chrissy. Much angsty inspiration from Linkin Park of all bands.

Enjoy!

----------------

It was the same dream as always. A dark bloom crushed in his hand, Draco stood on the edge of a cold field. It was night and the darkness was all around, with no moon and no stars. He gasped at the world around him for he was suddenly fully awake. Looking out into the gloom Draco rubbed his arms, feeling the cold air surround him. The flower fell from his hand and he disregarded it. He blinked, hoping to wake up, to trigger himself but it was to no avail. His breath created a small brief mist around his face; he could feel it. Draco jumped as he felt the small movements of a person approaching him. He turned to the darkness and heard her come to a halt beside him.

"Where are we?" she said, her voice tired, as if she was lost, or asleep.

"We are in a graveyard." he replied, he knew the script, the words they always spoke to each other there. "We are here to bury my Father."

"I always hated him." she said; her voice shy and slightly faltering.

"I know, so did I." Draco said, hanging his head, he had come here so many times, heard her say the same words. It had taken him a few years to work it all out, but for the last few months he had just played the game, over and over again. He had heard her say the same thing, and he had learnt to admit his feelings, without fear. He was awake, he was aware, he could remember the dreams. He knew she was here unconsciously.

He had read so much after he had first woken in the dreams, he felt consumed, and very worried. He knew now that she never remembered their moments together, silently burying the body, night after night. Standing there in the darkness, feeling the warmth of each other like a scent caught on the wind. He also knew he was gifted; he now had something that made him stand far apart from everyone else. But unlike the Draco that others knew, he was not proud. He felt, with a twinge of disgust, what it must have been like for Harry, being a Parseltounge.

Draco hated to have any kind of empathy with Harry, but now he felt it coursing through him, like a warm drop of liquid on a block of ice. He had something that others both feared and marveled at. He was a dream walker, an Alucinor, as the old books in Hogwarts called it. Alucinors were few in history, and many were in the end, proven to be fakes. But Draco knew, he had done so much research, asleep and awake, and he was sure of it. He was fully awake in his dreams, and he could command those dreams however he wanted them; or at least he would be able to, once he had mastered his own mind. For now, he was in limbo, awake but unable to really control anything. He couldn't change the scenery, he couldn't change the time of day, the only thing he could do was be there, thinking and aware...the only thing he could do really was watch her.

He felt her now, turned to him, looking for him. He felt her move, her hand stretching out towards his, then in his other hand, a sudden weight as he felt his wand appear from nowhere. She was close now, then as she reached out, her fingers finding his arm, his heart beating faster and faster, he knew he wasn't going to last. He felt himself pull back from her and at the same time he cried "Exsuscito!"

The world was suddenly full of a blinding light and everything around him burned away in the hot flames of white. He covered his eyes and felt himself fall. All of a sudden, he was awake. He sat upright and found himself on the train still, but it was dark now. He felt his cheeks, hot and flushed red; his forehead was damp with sweat. How long had he been asleep? In his hand was his wand, now cold. There was a tap at the door as a pretty face appeared.