Title: An Inevitable Fate

Chapter Eight: The Dreams Dragons Dream

Author: KissThis

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Rating: R - if not now, then later. Just shut up and read it.

Pairing: You'll find out!

Setting: 6th year in Hogwarts.

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Disclaimer: I don't own anything Harry Potter...sad really...

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A/N: I know that some of you might not have read the fifth book yet. I'm going to try really hard not to include spoilers, though I don't think that many will come up. If you really don't think you can stand a few spoilers than, by all means, put my story on hold -- it will be here when you get back.

Hermione hurried to dinner and managed to catch the tail end of a crowd of students pushing their way into the Great Hall. Trying not to look too conspicuous she realized too late that she was sans the required blouse and black robes. And when she sat down at the Gryffindor table she figured her ragged appearance was what was drawing the stares of her peers. Her skirt was covered in scorch marks -- Moody's handiwork -- and her tank top was torn and smudged. Her chestnut curls were falling out of her ponytail and sweat was shining as it cooled on her body. And though she was tired as all hell, she felt deeply satisfied at the outcome of her first day back at Hogwarts.

Harry and Ron kept their silence until she started shoveling rice onto her plate and by then the tension was so high that Ron couldn't stand it anymore.

"So when are you going to tell us what's happening!?" He exclaimed, not bothering to keep his voice low.

Hermione looked up at him through her lashes and then around at the people who's attention had been caught by Ron's loud demand. She, however, kept her voice soft and even.

"I would tell you, Ron, but I'd only have to repeat myself later and I'd rather only have to explain everything once."

This had the desired effect of silencing him and he immediately darkened. Looking back over his shoulder Hermione watched him fix his narrowed gaze on someone at the Slytherin table. He turned back with a scowl and proceeded to stab viciously at his salad.

"I don't know why you need to tell him..." he muttered darkly under his breath.

Hermione gritted her teeth. She was beginning to think that they would never get along. "Maybe it's because I need someone level-headed to watch my back." She retorted acidly.

Harry suddenly burst into a fit of coughing. He attempted to smother it in his napkin but even then it sounded suspiciously like laughter. As Ron turned beat red Harry looked over his napkin at Hermione and his emerald eyes danced making Hermione's mood instantly lift again. She grinned at him and grabbed a chicken leg.

Just like old times...

The silence that followed the end of Hermione's tale seemed to last for aeons. Ron kept shifting anxiously in his seat upon Hermione's couch. Oppositely, Harry remained completely motionless staring off into space and leaning against the back of Padme's couch. Draco idly prodded the common room fireplace with a golden poker. As he gazed deep into the fire, as if seeking answers, the burning flames were reflected in his blue-gray eyes.

After waiting several moments for one of the boys to break the silence, as they were prone to doing, the silent tension became too much for even Hermione to bare. She cleared her throat loudly and the boys jumped.

"Look, I have War Strategies first thing in the morning and I still have to get cleaned up."

"What do you want to do about this mind-to-mind thing with Seamus?" Harry asked. "Research?"

Hermione nodded, "I'll take Draco -- when do you have a free period?"

"First thing after lunch."

"That's great! So do I -- though it's probably a lot shorter than yours."

"Woah woah!" Harry interrupted, "I thought we were always your research buddies."

"Yeah! Why are you taking him?" Ron added.

Hermione flushed, "Things change. I mean, of course you're still my 'buddies', but you guys haven't been great on the whole research thing in the past."

Draco was trying hard not to snicker at the twin looks of mock hurt on Ron and Harry's faces. Hermione was finding it equally difficult to keep her tone apologetic.

"Besides," She reasoned. "Draco and I are prefects and therefore curfew doesn't apply to us. Plus, we're allowed in the Restricted Section."

Harry and Ron finally admitted defeat and left for their own common room after saying their goodnights. Heaving a great sigh born from exhaustion Hermione dragged her sore body into the prefect's bathroom and shut the door. Draco was left staring at the fire awhile longer and then he too retired to his room for the night. Even before his head hit the pillow he knew what he would be dreaming about.

He always dreamed of her...

He was walking along the gardens, again.

That's where she always found him...

...in the moonlight.

Her footsteps make no sound upon the stone path, but he knew she was there. He stopped his walking and turned.

A vision in white she floated eerily down the trail towards him. An unseen wind teased her hair and ruffled her white gown and the blinding white light that stayed wrapped about her like an aura made the lines of her body blur and become fuzzy. The only thing that remained focused was her eyes.

Wide and haunting amber...

**

Look here she comes now

Bow down and stare in wonder

Oh how we love you

**

He couldn't help but stare. Just like every other time, her beauty held him captivated. As she drew closer he called out her name, but she did not answer. Did not look.

Her golden eyes swept upwards and remained fixed on something up the path. Curiosity gnawed at him, but he dared not look up the path for every time he did -- the dream ended.

She floated closer towards him...

The dream had never lasted this long...

As she glided past him he couldn't resist the desire to wrap his arms about her. He reached out for her, but his grasping hands went straight through her. A smile played on her lips as she continued down the garden pathway.

He looked down at his hands in shock -- turning them over and over searching for the reason why they had betrayed him.

He felt his insides turn to ice.

He called her name again, and turned around. He had barely done the act when blinding white light filled his vision and burned his senses. The moonlight gardens fell away from him and he was left along in a desolate black hole of nothingness.

The light faded away, but his screams did not...

**

Still can't find what keeps me here

When all this time I've been so hollow inside

I know you're still there...

**

"Draco?!"

Hands were on his shoulders -- shaking him awake. The black faded away and was soon replaced with the increasingly familiar surroundings of his room. He blinked his eyes groggily and grabbed the hands that were so insistently shaking him back and forth.

"I'm awake..." He said incoherently.

"Are you alright?"

He was still half-asleep, but half-dead he'd know that voice anywhere.

"Hermione?" He whispered in surprise. He squinted his eyes as they quickly adjusted to the dim lighting; the only light in the room being the one streaming in from his open doorway. It was indeed Hermione who had shaken him awake and she sat as living proof kneeling on the edge of his bed.

Her hair was still damp from her bath and chestnut strands were falling from her messy ponytail on the top of her head. He was surprised to find her eyes filled with concern and worry. He couldn't remember if anyone had ever been worried about him.

"What are you doing here?" He asked sitting up beneath the green silk covers of his bed.

Hermione was unfazed at seeing him shirtless and in bed, "I heard you screaming. You were having a nightmare."

He shook his head, "Not a nightmare," He mumbled, "No...never a nightmare. It was a dream."

She leaned over him and peered into his face -- unconvinced. Her face scrunched up in a cute way as she studied his face. "Why would a dream make you scream like that?"

A thought made her face suddenly light up and she gave Draco a devilish smirk and a wink. His bewilderment gave way to embarrassment as he caught onto Hermione's train of thought. Normally, his Malfoy training would have him calm and unfazed and sneering down at her in contempt, but the fact that she was...well Hermione...and sitting on his bed...in her nightgown made his face flame.

"It wasn't one of those dreams..." He insisted preparing to defend himself, but Hermione seemed to be satisfied his answer.

Drawing her knees up to her chest she wrapped her arms around them and laid her head down upon them. Her thin silk nightgown must not be that warm...

"Well, if it wasn't a nightmare, and it wasn't a dream, and it wasn't one of those dreams," She added with a giggle. "Then what was it?"

Draco shifted uncomfortably and shrugged. It's not like he could just tell her that her dreamed about her every night. She'd never talk to him again, and that was worse than never being acknowledged by her in his dreams.

Hermione frowned, "Do you want to talk about it?"

"It's not really a big deal," He mumbled. "But thank you for offering...not many people would."

"Then they're stupid," Hermione declared stubbornly, and Draco was taken aback by her vehement tone. "If they can't see what a wonderful person you are then they are stupid."

Draco shook his head and scowled, "I'm a Malfoy. Malfoy's aren't "wonderful people" and that's something that I can't change."

Hermione peeled one arm away from hugging her knees and reached out her hand to lightly graze her fingertips across his cheek. "You can't lie to me. If you were incapable of change than you wouldn't have helped us last year."

Her eyes sparked.

"I'll always be a Malfoy."

She smiled "her smile" and Draco felt a smile of his own tugging at his lips, "I don't want you any other way." She whispered deeply.

Draco's eyes widened.

Her eyes flickered.

Her fingers trailed their way down his jaw line. "You're...perfect..."

"Hermione?" He questioned quietly. His brows furrowed.

She smiled and pulled her hand back. The golden light that had made her eyes glow phosphorescent in the darkness dimmed. "I should go...it's late."

Uncurling her legs she swung them over the edge of his bed and stood up. She had just reached the door when Draco called after her.

"Hermione, how did you get into my room?" He asked uncomfortably, thinking McGonagall had told Hermione his password and had failed to tell him hers.

Her eyes flashed gold.

"Don't worry. I don't know your password. You left your door open when you went to bed."

Draco let out a sigh of relief and heard her giggle by his door. "It's Dragon Wings."

"Excuse me?"

Draco coughed uneasily, "My password -- it's Dragon Wings."

She smiled, though she doubted he could make out her face in the dark. "Mine's Pixie Dust."

And then she was gone.

It was a long time before Draco fell back asleep. He was loath to go back to the moonlit garden and repeat the same agonizing scene over and over again. Looking, but never touching. Eventually he could fight off fatigue no longer and he drifted off to sleep.

But this time there were no gardens.

No ethereal beauty he was unable to hold in his arms.

Just the image of her...

Sitting with him...

Talking with him...

Looking at him...

And the scene he played over and over in his mind was not of the mysterious gardens...

Just the feel of her hand on his cheek.

Ugh! My shortest chapter EVER for Fate.

You may say CORNY, but I rather liked the ending. I thought it was sweet.

Anyway, I know I said that there would be no D/Hr scenes unless I got over 70 reviews, but...I lied. Enjoy!

KissThis