Author's Note: Below is previous chapters 5 through 8 combined into one chapter. No changes have been made to the text, I just combined the chapters together to make them longer.
As soon as he left the room, he heard the door lock.
'I don't know why I did that! Ugh. She's a mudblood, a filthy, dirty mudblood.', Draco thought. But somewhere in the back of his mind he knew why he was protecting her. It was fear. Fear of his father, fear of Lucius Malfoy.
'Why must I be tortured every night?' he dwelled.
He followed the hallway from his room up two flights of stairs and down another long hallway. Near the end he reached a set of tall, gothic style doors engraved with the Malfoy crest. The handles were silver, with two serpents entwined.
Behind these doors was everything the pale, platinum blonde feared.
Slowly, reaching out, he turned the handle, dreading what was to come.
"If it isn't my favorite son! I've been expecting you." drawled a cold, merciless voice.
"Father." Draco acknowledged.
"Where are your manners, boy! Bow to your superiors." ordered Lucius Malfoy.
Draco didn't object, so he regretfully bowed. He hated his father, he was despicable, and bowing to him made him feel like he was bowing to the Dark Lord himself.
"Draco, Draco, Draco. What actions have you taken so far today to denounce the Malfoy name?" asked the man.
There he sat, in the corner of the room. The light from the fire place illuminating his features. His long blonde hair was reflected by the light, making his pointed nose look even pointier. A spitting image of this man stood across the room, nearly 40 feet away. It was amazing how much these two men, father and son, looked alike, but how different their personalities were. Sure, Draco and Lucius both were arrogant and self-centered. Both thought they were worthier then any other person, wizard alive. And both Malfoys cherished pure-bloods. Both Malfoys, too, thought that pureblood's were better than mudbloods or half-bloods. But they didn't value the same things. Lucius was a Death Eater, while Draco vowed never to be one. They were completely different people, not that anyone noticed though.
"You know Father, I don't understand why I would ever embarrass the Malfoy name, because you do it so well yourself. Kneeling in front of a half-blood, following his orders. That alone is despicable." sneered the young Malfoy, Draco.
"How dare you insult the Dark Lord. He's better than you'll ever be! You should be lucky he even wants you as a follower! You're not even worthy enough to kiss his robes." roared the furious man. Lucius Malfoy never liked the fact that he was indeed taking orders from a half-blood, but he wasn't stupid enough to say it. He knew the Dark Lord was very powerful, and for that reason alone, he followed him.
"Who says I want to take orders from a wizard who can't even kill a baby? Who says I want to take orders from a man who has to have others do his dirty work?" yelled Draco.
"I do. You will serve the Dark Lord and you will not argue. You're life is set, boy. When you graduate you will get the Dark Mark. Do you understand me or do you need persuading?" Lucius Malfoy remarked, straining to sound calm.
But Draco already knew that no matter what he thought about it, the "persuading" was coming.
And he was ready for it. There was no way in fighting it ofcourse, but it makes it a tad bit less painful.
"Crucio!"
The pain was excruciating, but he wouldn't scream. No matter how bad the pain was, he wouldn't let it show, not this time.
After three rounds of the Cruciatus Curse and no screaming, no gasps of pain, and no moans, Lucius started getting bored. He simply threw Draco furious looks and stepped over the limp form of his son sprawled on the floor. When Draco heard the door shut, he decided he should leave.
The pain was deadly, but he was proud. He never uttered a word. He never gave his father the satisfaction of knowing he was in pain. As soon as Draco picked himself up off the floor, he fell again to the cold, stone floor.
He tried to stand. After four more attempts, he finally succeeded. He drug himself through the hallway, down 2 flights of stairs, and through another hallways before he reached his door.
He grabbed the handle, but it was locked.
Hermione was pacing around the room, worried, scared.
The room was huge. Mostly green, black, and silver, "Slytherin" colors. She wasn't surprised. He was so arrogant! But she couldn't help but feel frightened for him. She knew his father. She knew he would hold no remorse towards ever hurting anybody, even his own son. And she had saw it. Even if it is only a dream, it feels so real. She didn't understand anything about this. Was this a dream, or was this actually happening? She decided that if she ever got out of this, she'd go to the library and look it up.
She was lost in thought when she heard it. She was thinking of reasons why Malfoy could be so cruel. But it made sense. His father was abusive, of course he would be cruel.
The sound that pulled her out of her thoughts was someone trying to get through the door. The handle jiggled, but she had locked it. But a simple spell would open. For some reason, who ever was at the door hadn't tried to magic their way in.
Fear, anxiety, anticipation, and dread all flooded her mind.
The she heard a light cry.
"Granger. Please.. open.." It was so faint. Barely audible through the door.
But she heard it, and she knew immediately that it was Draco Malfoy, and he sounded hurt.
'What if this is a set up? What if I get hurt when I open this door?' she thought.
Still, even though she was frightened, she couldn't take any chances incase it really was a hurt Malfoy. She rushed to the door, unlocking it. As much as she hated Malfoy, she was a Gryffindor, and Gryffindors are brave. She pulled the doors open, and a blood stained blonde fell through, knocking over Hermione, landing right on top of her.
Hermione did the first thing any girl, any person, would do if a bloody person fell on themshe panicked.
There was an extremely arrogant boy, whom she detested, lying on top of her, unconscious. She pushed and pushed to roll Malfoy's body off her, but to no prevail. She was scared that he wouldn't wake, and even more frightened that somebody would see the situation they were in. Worst of all, Lucius.
She wasn't thinking properly the whole time his body was on her, her head wasn't clear. There was too much going on for her to think rationally. She was confused because she didn't know where she was, she was scared because she was with Malfoy none the less.
Out of a moment of brilliance, Hermione remembered the wand that she was clutching for dear life. If she would have been thinking right, it would have popped in her head immediately to use magic.
"Wingardium Leviosa." chanted Hermione.
A purple spark emitted from the tip of her wand, hitting the unconscious boy.
His body slowly ascended off of Hermione. She slowly pushed herself off the ground while keeping her wand out to levitate Malfoy to his bed. She was pretty uncomfortable being in his room, and putting him on his bed was even worse.
She placed him down softly, knowing he was in a lot of pain. She couldn't help but think of how much she wanted to drop his lifeless body from a great height, but she couldn't do it. He had been nice to her earlier, she couldn't make him hurt.
She hesitantly pulled the green covers of his body, feeling even more uncomfortable every second. Slowly and quietly, for she didn't know who was in the house, she pulled a chair next to his bed.
She sat down for a while, gathering her thoughts. Endless questions crossed her mind time and time again. She was perplexed, scared, lonely. There had never been a time when all her knowledge hasn't helped her, but here she was, without absolutely no clue as to what was going on. She figured she was in Malfoy Manor, just a guess. There was no proof of anything, except that she was in Draco Malfoy's room. How did she get here? Is this a dream, or is this real? Nothing made sense to her.
After endless questions and analyzing, Hermione drifted off.
When Hermione opened her eyes, she was surrounded by white linen hangings. She was on a bed, in a hospital gown. Even more confused, Hermione sat straight up, pulling the hangings back. She looked around and realized she was in the infirmary. It was completely empty, except for the deep inhaling and exhaling of the occupant of the bed next to her. She figured it was Malfoy, seeing how the last thing she remembered was being with him. Everything came flooding back in an instant: the dream, the hallway, the room, the unconscious Malfoy. She was even more confused then she was before. How was she in the infirmary when she was just in another building?
Hermione dangled her feet off the side of her bed, trying to make sense of everything. No matter how hard she thought, or how long, she couldn't figure out anything.
Startling her from her thoughts, she heard hangings pull back from the bed next to her. A platinum blonde peeked out, looking paler than ever.
He caught her gaze for a second, and looked away fast. He didn't know what to say to her. He was even more confused than she was. Maybe not, because he wasn't concerned about if it was a dream or not, or how they had gotten to a different building. But he was confused because the only thing that kept him strong when his father was throwing curses at him in the dream, was her. All we was thinking was that he had to keep his father away from her, and he had to make it back to his room to make sure she was okay. It didn't make sense to him. He shouldn't have cared, she's just a mudblood, Harry Potter's best friend. He didn't care about her, and she didn't care about him.
"What's going on, Malfoy?" a soft voice asked.
He looked up, right into her eyes again and saw so much confusion that he could get lost in. He knew he needed to explain everything to her. But his pride got the better of him, and before he could stop himself, he said it.
"What are you talking about, Mudblood?"
She rolled her eyes, she wasn't in the mood to care about the foul names he was calling her. She just wanted to know what was happening. She looked right into his eyes again, and didn't say a word to him. It made him angry, he didn't even make her mad! He realized that she desperately needed to know what was going on, and decided to tell her the parts he knew.
"Okay, okay. They're just dreams, well, nightmares. But they're deadly nightmares. Everything that happens in them affects your real life. So, if you die in the dreams, then you die in real life." he trailed off at the look on her face.
"So, are you hurt now? How long have you been through this? Why me, why am I in your dreams?" she asked hurriedly.
"I've had these nightmares since I first started Hogwarts. It's always been like this. And, I have no idea why you are in them. I haven't figured that out." he answered, determinedly avoiding her first question. He hoped she would forget that question.
"And, are you hurt now?" she asked.
'Shit.' he thought.
"No, I'm fine." he lied.
"Don't lie. I was there with you for most of it. I even made sure to put you on a soft bed when you fell on me unconscious. I didn't ask for any of this! I think the least you would do is be honest to me about everything!" she said, her voice raising at the end.
He mentally cursed himself. He knew, yet again, that he'd have to tell her.
"What do you think, Granger? No, I feel just fine and dandy. I've only been hit with a couple unforgivable's, but they made me feel like I was being tickled!" he yelled, sarcastically.
She sat there, not saying anything, just looking at him. Staring. He knew she was getting mad, but she portrayed patience. He lived to get her riled up, but suddenly, all his energy just went away. He layed back down in the bed, closing his eyes.
"Are you okay?" Hermione asked, in an uncaring manner.
"Granger, listen to me. You have to try hard to not get into my dreams. It's dangerous, you'll get killed. Try to block them out. They're not real, it's not real life. No one other than you and I know about them. They're just my dreams, and you shouldn't come barging into them. And don't tell anyone about them. Nothing at all." he was lying to her. Well, not lying, but he wasn't telling her what he wanted to. He couldn't say, "Granger, even though you hate me and I hate you, I would like you to come back to my nightmares with me just to give me something to live for."
She sat there in silence. She knew she wouldn't try to block to out his dreams. She loved adventure, and him being really serious about it made it a lot more interesting. Curiosity killed that cat. Not literally, but she was curious, and even the thought of death wouldn't change her mind.
Draco fell asleep as Hermione was lost in her thoughts. She glanced over at the sleeping boy, admiring how angelic he looked as he sleeps.
'Angel.' she thought, and suddenly, she was upset. Tears started flowing freely out of her eyes, down her cheeks. Silently sobbing, Hermione thought of her summer vacation.
Her mom had told her as soon as they got settled in at home after her fifth year, that she was expecting. Expecting a baby in no more the 3 months; a baby who would be 16 years younger then herself. Hermione wasn't mad, she was happy for her parents; she knew they had been wanting another child since Hermione was four, but they couldn't get pregnant. However, she was a little upset. She had been their only daughter-only child-for 16 years, and now her parents were being took from her by a baby. She was being selfish though, her parents needed another baby, Hermione was never home except on holidays, and soon she'd be graduating and off on her own. She felt happier already.
But Hermione doesn't feel mad anymore. She didn't feel that way after a week of being home. The thought of her mom being pregnant enlightened her, made her happy. She was excited about the baby coming into her life. She was sad that she'd be back at school when it came, but she'd come home as soon as possible to see it. She had went to all the doctors appointments with her mom, saw the sonograms of the baby, and was there when they found out it was a baby girl. She even got to help pick the names. In the end, they decided on Angel Elizabeth Granger. It was a beautiful name to an undoubtedly beautiful baby.
But 7 days-one week-before Hermione was due back to school, her mom had gone into pain. By the sounds of it, it was excruciating pain. Her mom was rushed to the hospital immediately, due to her condition. When the pain subsided, they did sonograms and heart rate monitors to check the baby, but there was no more baby. They said the pain was caused from a miscarriage, from the death of the unborn baby who had already had a big place in the three Grangers' hearts.
Her family was a wreck. Mrs. Granger was allowed home the next day with medicine incase she had any more pains, and a recommendation of plenty bed rest. But Mrs. Granger was a complete disaster. The whole family was. Her parents were fighting, blaming each other for the loss of the unborn baby; Mr. Granger said Mrs. Granger hurt the baby on purpose. It was all too much. Soon the finger was pointed at Hermione, saying that Hermione had cursed the baby to death because she was jealous. Her perfect family had fallen apart.
Just reliving this summer brought on a storm of silent sobs. She felt like somehow she was responsible, some how it was her fault her unborn baby sister died.
'Don't think like that! You know you did nothing!' Hermione scolded herself for probably the 1 millionth time this school year.
She promised herself that she wouldn't tell anyone about what happened. No one needed to know about her baby sister, no one needed to know that her family had fallen apart. She would just go on as a normal year, no sister, no parents. She knew that her sister would always be in her heart, always on her mind, but she didn't want to show anyone that she was sad, or depressed. She didn't want people to feel sorry for her, to pity her, to want to be her friend and be nice to her because of her summer.
A voice brought her back, a stern voice, with a little bit of mothering.
"Dear! You're awake! You should have come straight to me" said the Medi-witch.
'I've only been up an hour or longer. She probably wasn't even here.' she thought.
"Oh. Hi Madam Pompfrey." said Hermione.
"How do you feel" asked the nurse.
"I'm fine. Just really beat. I'm extremely tired. I want to lie down." Hermione lied. She was tired, but she didn't feel good. She just wanted to sleep and she'd feel better when she woke up.
"That's fine. Just take a sip of this potion and then be off to bed." replied the nurse, as she handed a goblet of something to Hermione.
Hermione drank it, loving the way the liquid slid down her throat, sending a soothing feeling throughout her body.
She watched Madam Pompfrey slip some of the same potion into Malfoy's sleeping form as she lied on the bed. Instantly, as her head hit the pillow, she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
"'Mione, wake up." whispered a boy with messy, jet-black hair, while a boy with flaming red hair poked her in her side.
Hermione jetted out of sleep, releasing a deep groan from being woken. She slowly opened her eyes, looking around and spotting her best friends. She was a little mad; they had woken her from a great dreamless sleep. She needed it, didn't they know that?
"Hey 'Mione!" yelled Ronald Weasley.
Sitting up, Hermione grabbed her head, suffering from a throbbing headache.
"Hey guys." she said.
The boys had a concerned look on their face, but in their eyes you could see excitement.
"What are you guys happy about?" she asked quietly, scared to speak louder because of her headache.
"We're not happy about anything. We came to see how you were. You've been asleep for two days" Harry said.
"TWO DAYS? What about classes? What day is it?" she shrieked, suddenly forgetting her headache.
"It's Saturday. Dumbledore excused you and Malfoy from classes until you woke. What happened?" he asked, while throwing the bed next to Hermione's a dirty look.
"Oh. So no classes today? Good." she replied, trying hard to dodge Harry's last question.
"What happened?" persisted Ron.
"I'm not sure." she lied.
"We were the ones to find you. And Malfoy. You were both lying on the floor, next to each other. We thought at first that you were attacked, but you two seemed to be having a fit or something. When the Great Hall let out for classes, you guys drew a crowd. Dumbledore walked out after a while and saw you two on the ground. He levitated you two to the hospital wing. Madam Pompfrey said that you were out for 2 hours before you came back. We were scared, but he made us go to class." Ron explained.
"Oh. I don't remember anything. I walked out of the Great Hall and walked down the hall way a little, but then I remember waking up the other day. I don't remember anything else." she said, lying once again. She's never been the type to lie, except for dire emergencies. But this seemed like an emergency. She didn't understand it herself, so why should she bring Harry and Ron into it, getting them confused and fussy?
"Do you feel okay?" asked Harry.
"Yeah. I'm fine. I'd have been a lot better if you wouldn't have woke me up by poking me." she replied sarcastically.
"Sorry." Ron smiled sheepishly.
"So, 'Mione, going to the Quidditch game? Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw. First game of the season." Harry said, excitedly.
Hermione's spirits dropped-not that they were too high in the first place-because they were more excited over Quidditch than they were if she was okay or not. Sure, they asked if she was okay and what happened, but they didn't really care. She could see the excitement in their eyes when she first woke up. It's always been like that though, she shouldn't be surprised. But she was hurt.
"No, I'm still not feeling great. I think I'm going to rest, maybe get caught up on my school work. Good luck though." she said dully.
"Oh, Okay. See ya later." they chimed, while walking out of the hospital wing.
She sat there in thought for a long while. Just thinking, about everything. How things have changed. Harry, Ron, and her have all drifted away. They weren't there for her when she was kicked out, they weren't there when she was being accused of killing her unborn sister. They probably didn't even know anything about it. Every time she tried to tell them, they'd start talking about something else. Tears suddenly sprung into her eyes, but she pushed them back down.
"Granger." a low voice said.
She jerked her head to her left, looking at the obviously just awoken blonde sitting on the bed next to her. She stared at him, unable to look away. It was like she was drawn to him. So she just stared, taking in every detail of his face; the way his hair dangled by his gray eyes; the way his eyes looked uncertain, they way his brow was scrunched up in confusion, the way his face was perfect. She scrutinized everything about him in a minute that seemed to last two hours. She came to the conclusion that he was different. She didn't know why and she didn't know how, but his eyes didn't hold the same look of loathe that they have for the past six years.
"What?" he asked
She just stared, finally breaking away from her trance and shaking her head.
"Nothing." she replied.
"We need to talk." he said to her, throwing his legs of the side of the bed.
"Yeah, we do." she replied.
He stood up and drug a chair over next to her bed. He sat down, eyes transfixed on the window of the infirmary where the light trickled in. His eyes looked far away, like he was somewhere else.
"They're just dreams Granger. He's not really in them, Lucius I mean. He doesn't know you're there, he doesn't even know he's there. It's just you and me who feel the aftermath of it. I explained it before, if you get hurt in there-in the dreams-you get hurt outside of it. It's been happening my entire life, in dreams and out of dreams. It's to make me strong. I guess it hurts so much in real life that I dream about it too, causing even more pain. I think I know why you're in it, why you are dragged into my dreams." he started off slow and quiet and ended up going quicker and quieter as he went. He was mad at himself for saying all that, that definitely wasn't what he meant to say. But it felt right. He couldn't deny anything, and she hadn't told Potter and Weasel just a few minutes ago. Maybe she was trustworthy. He felt a connection to her, one that he couldn't figure out.
"Why?" she said quietly.
"I've never shared a room with anyone before. Well, not exactly a room, but I've never lived alone with anyone. It's always been me, by myself. In Slytherin I had special treatment, always in a room by myself. But this year, we are basically alone together. I can feel a connection whenever I'm around you. It's confusing. I think that's why you are connected in my dreams. And plus, no one in Slytherin matched my intelligence level, but you do. I think it's all connected."
She was deep in thought as she processed what he said. It made sense, the connection that he felt, because she felt it too. That's why she was always staring at him, never able to tear her eyes away from him. And she hadn't go those dreams until she shared a dorm with him. She was also surprised in how he had just said all that. She could definitely tell that he's changed. He never would have just spilled everything like that last year. She was curious once again. But she had other things to deal with.
She looked over at him again, while he was staring out the window. The light stretched across his pointed face, making him look absolutely stunning and mysterious. She could look at him all day if she could. He looked at her slowly, making eye contact for only the second time that day.
"Is this gonna keep reoccurring?" she asked timidly.
"Probably." he said, getting straight to the point, not hinting around.
She liked that about him. He didn't take time to hint around on things, he said it bluntly. She hated having to translate peoples implications. She wanted people to say what they meant without any distractions.
"Is there anything we can do to make it stop?" she asked. She wasn't frightened anymore, for some reason, when Malfoy explained that to her, it didn't frighten her. She was intrigued beyond all measure. She wanted more, she craved more. It was exciting, and knowing that it wasn't really Lucius made it a lot less scary.
"Nope. Unless we drink a lot of Dreamless Sleep Potion that Madam Pompfrey gave us last night. But that stuff makes me restless." he replied.
She cracked a smile. It wasn't really funny, but it just made her smile for some reason.
"Are you scared?" she asked, knowing that he probably wouldn't answer. But to her surprise, he did.
"Shitless." he replied, honestly.
She was shocked. Did Draco Malfoy, son of Lucius Malfoy just admit to being scared?
"Are you?" he asked.
"Definitely. But I wanna go back. It may sound twisted, but I'd rather be there than here. I like the thrill. It might not even be that. It might just be that I don't wanna be around Harry and Ron. Anyway, it's not like I can do anything to get out of it." she said.
In all honesty, she was scared. Scared of dieing, scared of getting hurt. But being here, at Hogwarts was hurting her enough. Ron and Harry didn't even ask about her summer, didn't ask why she always looked so sad. They didn't ask why she was depressed and sleep deprived. They didn't care. That's wrong. They did care, they just have a lot of their plates. School, Voldemort, the Order, death, everything. But they still could pay attention to her. But she wasn't going to make them mad over it, she was just going to pretend like she was fine, put on her portrayal of perfection, and live her life. Maybe this-the dreams-will be the only thing to take her mind off of her sister.
The whole time she was lost in thought, Draco Malfoy was staring at her closely. He was the internal battle she was fighting, saw how she was upset and depressed, saw how she was keeping something. He also saw how lonely she was. He felt it all too. It was easy to spot on someone else when you feel it all in yourself. He hated himself, hated who he was, how he was brought up, who his father was, his parents beliefs; it was all bull. He hated being forced into something he didn't want. He changed, he wasn't his fathers rag doll anymore.
"Good." he said. Slowly, he said this last part, not believing that he was going to say it, but knowing deep down that it was true. He couldn't deny it, in every way possible, it was true. When his father was cursing him in the dream, he knew she was in the house, in his room, scared. All he could think about was making sure his father didn't get to her. He wanted to protect her, at the time blood didn't matter. It still doesn't. He hates his father and he'd die before he let his father kill someone who he-Draco Malfoy-could help. Especially not Hermione Granger. For some odd reason, it felt that she knew how he felt; for she had been upset when he left her, and then she took care of him when he came back. The whole time he was being cursed, picturing her is what kept him strong.
"I need you there."