December 5 2004
A/N. You know, if I finish this, it will make for four chapters in one night? I haven't written that much continually since school started! Does boogie dance Not that they were all UPLOADED in one night... I'm too lazy for that, besudes, I want to keep you guys in suspense!!! evil cackle
Disclaimer: Don't own them, wish I did. Would write the sixth book if I wouldn't then be sued and placed on the official 'shit-list' of all mothers who bought my sordid version of Harry Potter for their children. Talk about a new way of doing sex-ed!!! Evil grin.
Once again, story and chapter titles are taken from the song "Mixtape". Don't own that either.
About Me and You
Chapter 3: In My Mind
Earlier…
"Draco! Draco! For Gods sake!"
He sat bolt upright in his bed, still screaming, until someone slapped him sharply. His hand rose as though in slow motion to his cheek, his eyes still blankly focused on nothing.
Firelight filled the room suddenly, throwing huge shadows against the ceiling that made him cringe backwards. They showed his white-faced housemates, all staring at him as though he were some peculiar specimen floating in a jar in Potions.
And behind them, looming up out of the collected shadows in the corners, a robed figure, one hand extended….
He cried out sharply again.
"Be quiet." A low voice menaced, as Professor Snape came into view. "What is all the commotion about?"
"It's Malfoy, sir," Millicent fairly oozed charm and admiration. "I think he had a nightmare."
"You dragged me down here at this hour of the night because Mr. Malfoy needed his mother?"
Draco's face burned at the sarcasm in his house teacher's voice. "I'm fine," he snapped, "I didn't ask for you to come down here anyways."
His fellows grew silent quickly, drawing away from Draco and casting nervous glances at their professor to see what fate was in store for their companion.
"Tsk. Temper, temper, Mr. Malfoy," Snape scolded idly, "I take it you won't be needing a glass of warm milk to help you sleep?"
Nervous giggles.
"Quiet."
The silence was absolute.
Snape leaned in across the bed, glaring into Malfoy's eyes. "If you ever speak to me like that again, boy, I will make sure you live to regret it, despite my personal feelings on the matter; is that understood?"
Draco tried to hold his gaze, but failed. He didn't want Snape to somehow divine what he had been dreaming. It was too… embarrassing. No, not embarrassing…it had been horrible…but it was easier to think of it that way. Yes. Embarrassing, that was all.
"Yes," he answered softly.
"Yes…?" Snape prompted.
"Yes, professor. Sorry to have disturbed you, professor."
Snape eyes him coldly for a few minutes, seeking any hint of insubordination, before nodding curtly.
"Good."
Draco watched him leave, following his shadow with eyes that had seen into darkness and were now unsure of the light. His dream was still too close to the surface to let him be comfortable.
He glared around at the others in the room who were ostensibly being busy so as to not miss out on anything that would happen next.
He made sure that he had their full surreptitious attention, and then smiled.
It was a smile that clearly said I will find out which of you bastards ratted on me and then you had better pray that I only make your life a living hell.
The room emptied quickly, Slytherins slipping quickly back to their beds and drawing shut the curtains.
Draco himself lay back and contemplated the shadowed darkness above him.
Why dream of Harry? Moreover, why was Harry… and why had he cared? He hated that bastard, would celebrate the day that the Dark Lord had his vengeance on that scrawny little shit of a Gryffindor. When Voldemort was in power once again, the Malfoy family would be honoured and feared once more.
And Harry would be dead.
Why did that thought bother him so much? Well, to be a bad guy, you needed to have the wimpy hero type, true. Harry certainly fulfilled the obligatory alter ego to his evil genius. So…why…?
His thoughts circled that one question slowly, deliberately; ready to swoop like vultures as soon as he was once again….
…Asleep….
The eyes were open still, blankly regarding him through the film of death that clouded them. The wind blew fiercely across the blank land, shredding the remaining tendrils of mist into nothingness, stirring the locks of black hair that hid those terrible eyes, making his head sway slightly in a parody of life.
He was all alone now, no one to laugh at him, or fear him. No one. Except Harry.
He leaned his head against the rock, next to the lifeless body of his rival, hiding the tears that clouded his eyes from the wind that pierced his heart.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I just wish that I--"
He woke up suddenly, one hand pressed over his mouth to keep him from making any betraying sounds. Something was definitely wrong with him….
TBC
Please review and – kindly – tell me what you think!
Hums theme from Pirates of the Caribbean, sitting idly and drumming her fingers while waiting for first review to come in
Xtine the (rather pathetic) Pirate!