Title: Dreams

Summary: Hermione is having strange dreams lately. Foul dreams of Lucius and Voldemort torturing her, but in the darkness shines a light. A light that is called Draco Malfoy. They're just dreams, aren't they? But then why does Draco need her help?

Disclaimer: I just own the plot.

Setting: Book 4 & 5? Didn't happen. Voldemort hasn't become corporeal and started his great war. Let's just say things were postponed. They're now all in their sixth year, and because Voldemort didn't become corporeal, Sirius is still alive, and that means Harry will be slightly different as well.

A/N: I know, I haven't updated in forever. Thing is, I've been having trouble with my wrist (deterioration) and well basically it just sucks because I can't type for a long time.

"Hermione!"

Someone was screaming. It hurt. It hurt so badly. Why couldn't anyone make it stop? Why would he do this to her? Why would he hurt her like this? And who was screaming? Was it Harry? Ron? Were they still alive?

"Hermione!"

She awoke with a startle, realizing that the screaming she had heard was hers. She swallowed, feeling a sting in her throat that told her she hadn't just screamt for a second. A bit awkward she lifted her eyes to stare at the boy that had awoken her. Pretty much the entire library was staring at her and the librarian was coming their way – fast.

Draco grabbed her hand, stuffing a book in his robe before yanking her towards the doors. Hermione felt ashamed, and there was no doubt in her mind that she would have a very pissed off Draco to answer to. What the hell was wrong with her? She had never woken up screaming before. Then again, she had never admitted her love for Draco in her dreams before either.

What was with that anyway? Why would she say something as stupid as that? Something that was obviously a lie? It wasn't like he would reconsider hurting her after she said that. If anything, he would be more determined. She shook her head absentmindedly, finally focusing on Draco and where he was leading her.

"What did you see?"

He had halted in front of the Room of Requirements and pushed the door open before heading inside. Hermione followed him silently, not quite sure what he was referring to. Would he know about her dreams? Could he know? How?

"I don't like repeating my questions"

He said calmly before sitting down on a couch that had appeared together with a nice warm fire and hot chocolate. Hermione sat down next to him, taking the time to pour some of that nice hot liquid in a cup before looking at him.

"What are you talking about?"

She tried innocently.

He groaned.

"You truly annoy me Gra...Hermione. Don't give me this shit. I know about your dreams. What did you see?"

Hermione bit her lip, still not quite sure how he would react to her dreams. Granted, he did not want to become a Death Eater, but did that mean he would defy his father? Ignore his heritage and his future?

"I've been having these dreams since the start of term. They're getting more explicit every time I dream."

She was sure this would n't interest Draco in the slightest, but she needed him to understand the whole story.

"At first I just heard Voldemort, and I knew I was there for some reason that I couldn't remember. Your father was there too. He had tortured me."

Hermione did not dare to look at Draco, instead fixing her gaze on her hands.

"Then, after we started working together, befriending each other like we were supposed to...you started to appear in my dreams too"

She was sure he would snicker now, blurt out some crazy comment like 'I know I'm irrisistible', but he did nothing of the sort. Instead he merely nodded and silently urged her to continue.

"At first I thought you were like your father, there to torment me. But then...you just walked over to me and told me to trust you...and for some reason I did."

Dracos' voice sounded gentle as he spoke.

"Tell me about today. Why did you scream?"

Hermione looked at him for a second before casting her eyes downwards again.

"You had changed. Received the Dark Mark and you were every bit as evil as your father and Voldemort. Even your voice sounded different...so full of malice. You loved the idea of hurting me. And when you walked over to me and called me Mudblood..."

Suddenly his hand rested on her arm and her eyes caught his. His eyes seemed so different from the way she was used to seeing them. There was a whirlwind of emotions in his eyes as he took a step closer.

"You told me something. Something important. Something that undid the transformation."

She nodded.

"I told you I loved you."

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