Not Only In Dreams
By Goddess JacquesPierre
Chapter Ten: Detention and Ron
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all associated and/or non-associated things that I don't own do not belong to me. Perhaps it was redundant, but it certainly beats my English substitute, whose comment "Partners is definitely sufficient enough" led me to lose all respect I may have had for her. Anyone who uses the phrase "sufficient enough" should be shot (not necessarily lethal except in the case of the repeat offender. As far as I am concerned, the breed of people who perpetually mix up 'lose' and 'loose' belong in the same category). Moving along, they belong to their respective owners, who are not I. My writing, sarcasm, witty remarks, not-so-witty remarks, comments, ideas, and other creative property, however, do belong to me, and anyone caught filching them without permission will be sentenced to the same fate as those select few for whom loosing their lives is not sufficient enough. (So I didn't feel like coming up with something new. Bite me.)
Author's Note: Hey, look! I've finally moved my ass into gear and am writing! If you couldn't tell, the story is at a turning point, and I found I was stuck. I'm going to have to find a new pattern (my previous pattern had been one dream per chapter, but...), and my chapters may be (read: will be) sporadic in length of text and also in time between updates. I also have to figure out where the hell I'm going with this, as I'm nowhere near as focused as, say, "Unthinkable Thoughts" 's Aidan Lynch, who knew exactly what he was doing and exactly where he was going. I'm not that organised, and I apologise for that. However, I am moving again, and hopefully I'll get somewhere soon.
The next morning, Harry woke up, disturbed. Even though the dreams had been going on for slightly more than a week, he felt like there was some integral part of his life missing.
He shook his head to clear it. There had to be another explanation for the empty feeling in his gut; there was no way he had so much emotion for Draco Malfoy that the absence of dreams should upset him this much.
The thought that he should ask Hermione about it crossed his mind briefly, but he ignored it. Instead, he made his way to breakfast.
Draco woke in a similar state of panic. He resolved to ask Hermione for help-- she, if anyone, would know what had happened.
He hurried out of his dorm, hoping to snag a good-morning kiss from Harry before they got into the Great Hall.
Draco caught Harry about thirty feet from the huge double doors. "Morning, boyfriend," he said, smiling.
Harry stared, not sure what to make of a flirty Draco.
As Draco leaned in to kiss him, Filch stepped out of the shadows. When their lips met, he spoke. "Boys! That is unappropriate!"
They both sprang backwards, surprised.
Draco recovered first. "Inappropriate, sir!"
Filch gave him a dirty look. "Whatever. Get in to breakfast, and no more hanky-panky."
As he turned to enter the Great Hall, Harry fought to restrain laughter. He had had no idea that Draco could be as fun to be with as any of his own friends.
Harry chose a seat next to Hermione, but before he could greet her, Draco had squeezed between them on the bench.
"Good morning, Hermione," said Draco cheerfully. "How have you been?"
"Well, thank-you. And yourself?"
"Well, but there is something I would like to ask you. Has Harry been sleeping well?"
Harry pouted. "I'm right here."
Draco reached over and ran his thumb over Harry's protruding lower lip affectionately. "Yes, but I don't trust you to take care of yourself. You aren't selfish enough; likely if I asked you, you'd tell me you were fine regardless."
"He's been fine as far as I can tell," said Hermione. "He doesn't look exhausted, either. Why?"
"The last time I didn't dream about him, he'd been awake all night. I take it that's not what happened this time?"
Hermione paused a moment. "You two came to an agreement yesterday?"
"Yes, why?"
"Then I'd guess your Eros's Helper decided that you didn't need its help any longer. You're on your own now."
Draco frowned. "But I want the dreams back!"
Ginny giggled from across the table.
"You're the youngest Weasley, aren't you?" asked Draco, looking at her. "Virginia, isn't it?"
She blushed, nodding. "Ginny."
"Pleased to meet you."
He extended his hand to her, miraculously managing not to trail his sleeve through the marmalade jar.
After taking it, she grinned, turning her attention away from Draco as the latter returned to conversing lightly with Hermione. "See, Harry? A perfect gentleman! Of course you want him."
Harry blushed and absorbed himself in his toast. Draco's entire side was perfectly aligned with his, and it was very distracting.
Harry's detention took place late that evening in the greenhouse. Harry walked in to see Professor Sprout busily speaking with a familiar-looking blonde.
"Draco?" Harry asked.
The blonde turned around. "You got caught."
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to!" Harry exclaimed. "It's just..."
"No, you dolt, I'm not blaming you, though Merlin knows why not. Someone read the signature, and I got detention, too."
"Oh."
Professor Sprout bustled over. "OK, boys, tonight we're working with these." She held up a large, leafy green plant that was oozing translucent goo with a pink tinge. "What you are going to do is package each leaf in a separate bag." She indicated an adjacent shelf. "All of those are mature plants. You are to get through the shelf before you can go. I have a lot of back work piled up-- Fred and George are gone now, and they used to have detention so often they did this for me on a regular basis. If you need me, I shall be in Greenhouse Ten, doing essential paperwork for the duration of your detention. Now, gloves on, the sap has some intense side effects when it comes in contact with bare skin. And no magic!"
After she left, Draco began tugging on his gloves. "She's an amazing disciplinarian, isn't she?"
"What do you mean?" Harry was engaged in fighting with one of his gloves, which had gotten caught on the edge of the table.
"She just walks out on us... we could do anything now, and she wouldn't know."
"Draco? Just do the work."
"You're no fun."
"Just do it."
Barely fifteen minutes had passed before Harry's hand slipped and he ended up with a trail of pinkish ooze on his arm. "Ooops," he said.
"Harry, you're so clumsy," Draco chided gently, trying to wipe the slime off with a section of the tablecloth. "You should be more careful.
"It doesn't hurt..." said Harry, sounding surprised. "It just tingles a bit. Anticlimactic, for something with intense side effects'-- ah!"
"What is it?"
Harry was breathing heavily, as if he had just run a great distance. "Draco?" The latter looked up, and noticed that Harry's nipples were clearly visible through the thin cotton of the dirt-stained skin-tight t-shirt Harry had chosen to wear. Closer perusal showed expanded pupils to the point that they nearly eclipsed the irises and pink cheeks.
"Cold?" asked Draco.
"No. Come here."
"Are you all right?"
"NOW."
Draco stood and walked around the table. "Harry?"
Before he could say anything further, Harry had tackled him onto the greenhouse floor.
"My goodness," said Draco, startled by the sudden change. "Are you sure you're--"
He was abruptly interrupted by Harry's lips on his own. Two pairs of glove were the first things to fly into the corners of the greenhouse. They were soon followed by everything else.
Afterwards, the two boys lay exhausted on the cooling earth of the greenhouse floor.
"Well," said Draco, panting, "that certainly explains a lot about Fred and George."
"What explains a lot about Fred and George?"
"See, that gooey stuff is clearly an aphrodisiac of some sort. If Fred and George were in here often enough working with those plants... well, let's just say it throws the abnormal closeness of their relationship into a whole new light."
Harry rolled over. "Ugh, I so did not need that image. Thank you, Draco, for scarring my perception of two of my friends."
"You hadn't noticed?" Draco was genuinely surprised.
Harry sat up, thinking. "Now that you mention it..."
Draco tossed Harry his boxers. "You're endearingly naïve, Harry."
"Er, thank you. Now let's get back to work before Sprout figures out what's up."
Days passed. Harry found himself settling into a comfortable routine that involved Draco but did surprisingly not involve the first person that had made him feel comfortable in the wizarding world: his former best friend, Ron.
In fact, that was the only thing marring what had turned out to be a pleasant-almost-to-the-point-of-blissful day-to-day existence. Seamus and Ron were still pointedly avoiding him. In fact, part of Harry felt that Ron was happier in his friendship with Seamus than Ron had been when he, Harry, had been his best friend. So, despite his own blooming romance, there was a ribbon tainted with unhappiness running through the lace petticoat (probably one of Aunt Petunia's old ones, Harry thought bitterly) of Harry's life.
OK, I'm going to have to call it quits for this chapter, meaning it's thank-you time. However, now that my idea mill seems to be running again (as seen in the detention scene), the next chapter will hopefully be up sooner rather than later.
spirit element: I didn't really think that last one ended on a sad note. This one did (sorry!), but last one was more unknown than anything.
Kingess: Well, I don't know if the course had any visible effect on my writing, but I now have a four-page essay about "The Hulk" as a political commentary.
The One With Hope: Ah-hah! Now is my chance to display my slightly scary, obsessive Harry Potter trivia knowledge! I was referring to the Quidditch WORLD cup, which does take place in the fourth book. Heh, perhaps I should have been more specific, but it did happen! Check again, I know I'm right! And I'm very flattered that you reviewed. You know, it really does motivate us writer-types to continue writing.
Ice Princess of Slytherin: Well... I'd certainly say Draco's more of a lion than a lamb, but... whatever floats your boat. 'Fab' is a perfectly acceptable descriptor of a work of fanfiction, particularly this one (eh, who am I kidding... don't mind me...) As for your 'weirdest person in the universe' status... the jury's out on that one. Perhaps you should organise a contest...
Dragenphly: Glad you like my skewed logic. I don't mind the 'room' scenario, as long as it's justified... so many possibilities! But that's just the dedicated H/D fan in me talking, not the English critic. As for sneaking around... it's not as easy as it might seem, though I'm not a boarding-schooler, so I wouldn't know.
SexySlytherinChick: I'll definitely put that in the idea box, but I don't think I can come up with justification for leather and handcuffs... if you have any idea, feel free to let me know.
starlollie: Hmmm... don't know how plausible muttering out loud in class is, but my boyfriend does it. Oh well. Thanks for loving it anyway!
Andromeda Snape-Malfoy: But... but... but... holds up copy of OoTP defensively It said in here that in the wizarding world they don't reach majority until seventeen! You bring up a good point, though, especially as majority and age of consent are completely different magical creatures. By the way, I'm quite flattered that you've chosen to review my story-you claim to be a tough critic (I'm inclined to believe you on the basis that the sample of your writing I've read is sound and lacks Internetese, such as it is) and I value honest feedback at least as much as I value requests for Harry and Draco in leather.
enc87b: yes, it is supposed to be funny in parts. You should only be worried if you think the funny bits are, say, times that Ron is off with Seamus, both of them shooting dirty looks at Harry.
Silver Salamander: Well... it's not soon, but at least it happened, right?
Tygrressatheart: yeah, there's been a lot of water under the bridge since I started writing that one. I've taken care of a couple ongoing problems (e.g., clinical depression, ADD, and reusing the wing metaphor over and over) and like the concept of this one better. Thanks so much.
Chapter Ten: Detention and Ron
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all associated and/or non-associated things that I don't own do not belong to me. Perhaps it was redundant, but it certainly beats my English substitute, whose comment "Partners is definitely sufficient enough" led me to lose all respect I may have had for her. Anyone who uses the phrase "sufficient enough" should be shot (not necessarily lethal except in the case of the repeat offender. As far as I am concerned, the breed of people who perpetually mix up 'lose' and 'loose' belong in the same category). Moving along, they belong to their respective owners, who are not I. My writing, sarcasm, witty remarks, not-so-witty remarks, comments, ideas, and other creative property, however, do belong to me, and anyone caught filching them without permission will be sentenced to the same fate as those select few for whom loosing their lives is not sufficient enough. (So I didn't feel like coming up with something new. Bite me.)
Author's Note: Hey, look! I've finally moved my ass into gear and am writing! If you couldn't tell, the story is at a turning point, and I found I was stuck. I'm going to have to find a new pattern (my previous pattern had been one dream per chapter, but...), and my chapters may be (read: will be) sporadic in length of text and also in time between updates. I also have to figure out where the hell I'm going with this, as I'm nowhere near as focused as, say, "Unthinkable Thoughts" 's Aidan Lynch, who knew exactly what he was doing and exactly where he was going. I'm not that organised, and I apologise for that. However, I am moving again, and hopefully I'll get somewhere soon.
The next morning, Harry woke up, disturbed. Even though the dreams had been going on for slightly more than a week, he felt like there was some integral part of his life missing.
He shook his head to clear it. There had to be another explanation for the empty feeling in his gut; there was no way he had so much emotion for Draco Malfoy that the absence of dreams should upset him this much.
The thought that he should ask Hermione about it crossed his mind briefly, but he ignored it. Instead, he made his way to breakfast.
Draco woke in a similar state of panic. He resolved to ask Hermione for help-- she, if anyone, would know what had happened.
He hurried out of his dorm, hoping to snag a good-morning kiss from Harry before they got into the Great Hall.
Draco caught Harry about thirty feet from the huge double doors. "Morning, boyfriend," he said, smiling.
Harry stared, not sure what to make of a flirty Draco.
As Draco leaned in to kiss him, Filch stepped out of the shadows. When their lips met, he spoke. "Boys! That is unappropriate!"
They both sprang backwards, surprised.
Draco recovered first. "Inappropriate, sir!"
Filch gave him a dirty look. "Whatever. Get in to breakfast, and no more hanky-panky."
As he turned to enter the Great Hall, Harry fought to restrain laughter. He had had no idea that Draco could be as fun to be with as any of his own friends.
Harry chose a seat next to Hermione, but before he could greet her, Draco had squeezed between them on the bench.
"Good morning, Hermione," said Draco cheerfully. "How have you been?"
"Well, thank-you. And yourself?"
"Well, but there is something I would like to ask you. Has Harry been sleeping well?"
Harry pouted. "I'm right here."
Draco reached over and ran his thumb over Harry's protruding lower lip affectionately. "Yes, but I don't trust you to take care of yourself. You aren't selfish enough; likely if I asked you, you'd tell me you were fine regardless."
"He's been fine as far as I can tell," said Hermione. "He doesn't look exhausted, either. Why?"
"The last time I didn't dream about him, he'd been awake all night. I take it that's not what happened this time?"
Hermione paused a moment. "You two came to an agreement yesterday?"
"Yes, why?"
"Then I'd guess your Eros's Helper decided that you didn't need its help any longer. You're on your own now."
Draco frowned. "But I want the dreams back!"
Ginny giggled from across the table.
"You're the youngest Weasley, aren't you?" asked Draco, looking at her. "Virginia, isn't it?"
She blushed, nodding. "Ginny."
"Pleased to meet you."
He extended his hand to her, miraculously managing not to trail his sleeve through the marmalade jar.
After taking it, she grinned, turning her attention away from Draco as the latter returned to conversing lightly with Hermione. "See, Harry? A perfect gentleman! Of course you want him."
Harry blushed and absorbed himself in his toast. Draco's entire side was perfectly aligned with his, and it was very distracting.
Harry's detention took place late that evening in the greenhouse. Harry walked in to see Professor Sprout busily speaking with a familiar-looking blonde.
"Draco?" Harry asked.
The blonde turned around. "You got caught."
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to!" Harry exclaimed. "It's just..."
"No, you dolt, I'm not blaming you, though Merlin knows why not. Someone read the signature, and I got detention, too."
"Oh."
Professor Sprout bustled over. "OK, boys, tonight we're working with these." She held up a large, leafy green plant that was oozing translucent goo with a pink tinge. "What you are going to do is package each leaf in a separate bag." She indicated an adjacent shelf. "All of those are mature plants. You are to get through the shelf before you can go. I have a lot of back work piled up-- Fred and George are gone now, and they used to have detention so often they did this for me on a regular basis. If you need me, I shall be in Greenhouse Ten, doing essential paperwork for the duration of your detention. Now, gloves on, the sap has some intense side effects when it comes in contact with bare skin. And no magic!"
After she left, Draco began tugging on his gloves. "She's an amazing disciplinarian, isn't she?"
"What do you mean?" Harry was engaged in fighting with one of his gloves, which had gotten caught on the edge of the table.
"She just walks out on us... we could do anything now, and she wouldn't know."
"Draco? Just do the work."
"You're no fun."
"Just do it."
Barely fifteen minutes had passed before Harry's hand slipped and he ended up with a trail of pinkish ooze on his arm. "Ooops," he said.
"Harry, you're so clumsy," Draco chided gently, trying to wipe the slime off with a section of the tablecloth. "You should be more careful.
"It doesn't hurt..." said Harry, sounding surprised. "It just tingles a bit. Anticlimactic, for something with intense side effects'-- ah!"
"What is it?"
Harry was breathing heavily, as if he had just run a great distance. "Draco?" The latter looked up, and noticed that Harry's nipples were clearly visible through the thin cotton of the dirt-stained skin-tight t-shirt Harry had chosen to wear. Closer perusal showed expanded pupils to the point that they nearly eclipsed the irises and pink cheeks.
"Cold?" asked Draco.
"No. Come here."
"Are you all right?"
"NOW."
Draco stood and walked around the table. "Harry?"
Before he could say anything further, Harry had tackled him onto the greenhouse floor.
"My goodness," said Draco, startled by the sudden change. "Are you sure you're--"
He was abruptly interrupted by Harry's lips on his own. Two pairs of glove were the first things to fly into the corners of the greenhouse. They were soon followed by everything else.
Afterwards, the two boys lay exhausted on the cooling earth of the greenhouse floor.
"Well," said Draco, panting, "that certainly explains a lot about Fred and George."
"What explains a lot about Fred and George?"
"See, that gooey stuff is clearly an aphrodisiac of some sort. If Fred and George were in here often enough working with those plants... well, let's just say it throws the abnormal closeness of their relationship into a whole new light."
Harry rolled over. "Ugh, I so did not need that image. Thank you, Draco, for scarring my perception of two of my friends."
"You hadn't noticed?" Draco was genuinely surprised.
Harry sat up, thinking. "Now that you mention it..."
Draco tossed Harry his boxers. "You're endearingly naïve, Harry."
"Er, thank you. Now let's get back to work before Sprout figures out what's up."
Days passed. Harry found himself settling into a comfortable routine that involved Draco but did surprisingly not involve the first person that had made him feel comfortable in the wizarding world: his former best friend, Ron.
In fact, that was the only thing marring what had turned out to be a pleasant-almost-to-the-point-of-blissful day-to-day existence. Seamus and Ron were still pointedly avoiding him. In fact, part of Harry felt that Ron was happier in his friendship with Seamus than Ron had been when he, Harry, had been his best friend. So, despite his own blooming romance, there was a ribbon tainted with unhappiness running through the lace petticoat (probably one of Aunt Petunia's old ones, Harry thought bitterly) of Harry's life.
OK, I'm going to have to call it quits for this chapter, meaning it's thank-you time. However, now that my idea mill seems to be running again (as seen in the detention scene), the next chapter will hopefully be up sooner rather than later.
spirit element: I didn't really think that last one ended on a sad note. This one did (sorry!), but last one was more unknown than anything.
Kingess: Well, I don't know if the course had any visible effect on my writing, but I now have a four-page essay about "The Hulk" as a political commentary.
The One With Hope: Ah-hah! Now is my chance to display my slightly scary, obsessive Harry Potter trivia knowledge! I was referring to the Quidditch WORLD cup, which does take place in the fourth book. Heh, perhaps I should have been more specific, but it did happen! Check again, I know I'm right! And I'm very flattered that you reviewed. You know, it really does motivate us writer-types to continue writing.
Ice Princess of Slytherin: Well... I'd certainly say Draco's more of a lion than a lamb, but... whatever floats your boat. 'Fab' is a perfectly acceptable descriptor of a work of fanfiction, particularly this one (eh, who am I kidding... don't mind me...) As for your 'weirdest person in the universe' status... the jury's out on that one. Perhaps you should organise a contest...
Dragenphly: Glad you like my skewed logic. I don't mind the 'room' scenario, as long as it's justified... so many possibilities! But that's just the dedicated H/D fan in me talking, not the English critic. As for sneaking around... it's not as easy as it might seem, though I'm not a boarding-schooler, so I wouldn't know.
SexySlytherinChick: I'll definitely put that in the idea box, but I don't think I can come up with justification for leather and handcuffs... if you have any idea, feel free to let me know.
starlollie: Hmmm... don't know how plausible muttering out loud in class is, but my boyfriend does it. Oh well. Thanks for loving it anyway!
Andromeda Snape-Malfoy: But... but... but... holds up copy of OoTP defensively It said in here that in the wizarding world they don't reach majority until seventeen! You bring up a good point, though, especially as majority and age of consent are completely different magical creatures. By the way, I'm quite flattered that you've chosen to review my story-you claim to be a tough critic (I'm inclined to believe you on the basis that the sample of your writing I've read is sound and lacks Internetese, such as it is) and I value honest feedback at least as much as I value requests for Harry and Draco in leather.
enc87b: yes, it is supposed to be funny in parts. You should only be worried if you think the funny bits are, say, times that Ron is off with Seamus, both of them shooting dirty looks at Harry.
Silver Salamander: Well... it's not soon, but at least it happened, right?
Tygrressatheart: yeah, there's been a lot of water under the bridge since I started writing that one. I've taken care of a couple ongoing problems (e.g., clinical depression, ADD, and reusing the wing metaphor over and over) and like the concept of this one better. Thanks so much.