Chapter 5: Nightmares

"I'll scream just to get your attention.

I have seen what happens to a lonely heart.

And I'll scream just to get your attention.

I have seen the nightmares that tore us apart."

Secondhand Serenade (Nightmares)

Hermione jerked awake from a restless sleep. The screams from the nightmare faded away as the fog of sleep cleared from her mind. She pushed herself up from the awkward position she was laying in. Puzzlement filled her mind. What had happened?

Then it all came back: the flash of silver-grey eyes that haunted her, that blur of white blonde hair and that slow dangerous smile. She pushed the covers off her and placed her legs over the side of the bed. She was rubbing the sleep from her eyes when she heard an odd sound. Within a split second, adrenaline spiked through her and she was jolted into cold hard reality. She spun and grabbed her wand from under the pillow – she never slept without it near her ever since… no, she could not be distracted now. She slipped her legs into her fluffy slippers and shuffled over to her bedroom door. Leaning her head on the door, she tried to listen to what was going on outside.

The sound grew louder and she realized that it was a moan – a low strained one. A frown marred her forehead. Who was that? Was someone injured? She turned the doorknob slowly and edged out into the hallway. The house was dark with the exception of silver beams of moonlight that filtered in through the windows. Shadows lingered in every corner. Those were perfect places for hiding intruders. The hairs on the back of her neck rose as the moans started again. This time they were accompanied by a soft frenzied murmuring. She gulped and gripped her wand tighter as she traced the sound to her couch. There was something long and dark sprawled across it.

"Lumos," she muttered.

The dim light filled the room. There was a flash and she blinked before she realized the light had reflected off a particularly shiny surface – white blond hair. She knew who he was instantly, and moved her wand closer to his face. He appeared to be asleep, however, his brow was furrowed and his jaw was clenched and random noises spewed out from his mouth. She knew the signs; he was deep in the throes of a nightmare.

"No, no, please. Not her…take me. Please!" the last word came out a desperate plea.

Hermione froze. What was he dreaming about? She collapsed into a chair as she continued to survey him.

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Draco surveyed the dim dark room. The Dark Lord had summoned him here after they had returned from Hogwarts. He knew that the time where he had pay for his repercussions had arrived, albeit at a time that was too early for his tastes. He struggled to push down the bile in his throat as he walked slowly forward to the dark polished marble chair at the end of the long table. The back of the chair was facing him. He paused a few steps away. After several seconds, he began to wonder if he should have announced his presence by a cough or such.

"Draco," the slithering voice emanated from the chair.

Draco suppressed a shudder.

"Yes, my lord," he said.

"You have failed me Draco. Why were you unable to carry out my wishes? I specifically requested for you to kill Dumbledore, yet that job fell to Severus. Tell me Draco, why are you so weak?" With that the Dark Lord rose from his chair, he turned towards Draco in a smooth sudden motion, his wand already in his hand.

"If you can't kill… what's my purpose for keeping you around?" His voice was soft, dangerous now.

Draco stared at the wand in the Dark Lord's hand. He shook. One wrong move and he would be wiped off the face of the earth in the most painful way. He fumbled around in his mind for an answer.

"I know how Harry Potter works. I can try to stop him," he whispered. Internally, he slapped himself for sounding so weak.

"What lies…"

As Draco wondered how to push himself out of the hole that he had dug himself into, the Dark Lord turned and shouted to a side door.

"Bring her in!"

A hooded Death Eater appeared with someone in his grasp. That person was putting up a fight, kicking and scratching at their captor but to no avail; the Death Eater's grip was as tight as ever. The Death Eater threw the person down in front of the fireplace. The flickering flames illuminated the frame of the person. It was a woman. Blonde hair cascaded down, obscuring her face from his.

"Draco…" she said, her voice soft and strained.

He froze as he stared at her. When her eyes rose to meet his, it confirmed her identity.

His mother.

The Dark Lord watched the mother and son; something dark glittered in his red eyes. A slow smile perched on his thin lips. He directed his wand to the woman.

"Punishment must be made Draco, for despite what you might say, your failure is still there. Crucio!"

The woman shrieked and convulsed on the floor. Draco rushed forward and pulled his mother into his arms. She had bit her lips in an attempt to stop screaming and now they were bleeding furiously, the blood trailing down her chin.

"No, no, please. Not her…take me. Please!" He yelled.

The Dark Lord turned his blood red eyes to his.

"As you wish," he said in a matter of fact tone.

The wand was turned to him now, and he closed his eyes and prepared for the worst.

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His moans escalated into him thrashing about on the couch with beads of sweat forming on his forehead, it was as if he was fighting some unseen opponent. Clearly the nightmare was becoming far worse, and Hermione panicked as she wondered if she should rouse him from his sleep. She reached out to brush the hair away from his forehead, an action her mother did whenever she had nightmares and somehow it always provided a sense of comfort.

The moans ceased slightly, but they were still there. She decided that waking him up would be the best option. She placed a hand on his arm and shook him slightly, gently calling his name.

He bolted up and pressed his body further into the cushions, trying to increase the distance between himself and an unseen enemy. His eyes were flickering in every which direction, and when he ascertained that there was no one else in the room other than her, he released a shuddering breath. He touched his face gingerly and Hermione noted his shaking hands.

After pushing the fringe out of his eyes, he turned to her and nodded.

She inclined her head in return. To her, he still looked haggard, pale and his eyes were haunted with visions. She wondered for a brief moment whether it would be rude of her to ask him about his dream before she noticed how his hand was gripping the blanket that was thrown across the couch tightly, the veins on the back of his hand were jutting out; the ominous greenish-blue prominent against his pale skin.

Better not, she mused.

She stood up and turned around, fully prepared to walk back to her bedroom when the oddity of the situation struck her. Draco Malfoy, a known Death Eater, was sleeping on her couch. She spins around with a scathing remark on the tip of her tongue but she was struck by the proximity of him. She didn't even hear him move, but there he was, no more than a few inches away from her. Her breaths grew more labored as her heart raced. His presence was intimidating and suffocating from this distance. His silver eyes held hers and she noticed the corners of his eyes tighten, as if he was about to smile but held back at the last second. Then she watched him raise his hand, slowly, so she could watch it and she clenched her eyes shut as his fingers barely brushed across her cheek.

"Thanks you, Hermione," he whispered.

Something felt like it was lodged in her throat. She turned and ran back to the safety of her room. Settling down on her bed again, she stared unblinkingly out the window till dawn, her fingers occasionally touching her cheek.

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When the first pink rays of the sun stretched its fingers across the inky black sky, she roused from the stupor she was in. Why did he have this sort of effect on her? It was ridiculous and downright disturbing. She vowed to put more distance between Malfoy and her as long as he was staying here. She barely bit back a groan then. What did she mean by him staying here? It wasn't as if she wanted him to stay. She gritted her teeth together. She needed answers out of him, and fast.

She pushed herself off her bed again and traipsed out into her living room, only to spot Malfoy lounging in one of the chairs before the island in her kitchen with the Daily Prophet in one hand. It was such a normal act that she had to blink her eyes several times to dispel the non-existent illusion. She walked forward and placed a kettle on the stove before reaching into a cupboard and grabbing a mug. After hesitating for a moment, she grabbed a second one.

While waiting for the water to boil, she prepared breakfast. Several moments later, she placed a plate of food and a mug of tea in front of him.

Draco paused as he eyed the food. He wondered why she was so nice to him after the little tirade last night. He slowly picked up a fork and nibbled on a piece of bacon.

"I still want answers Malfoy." Her voice jolted him out of his thoughts. He looked at her and noticed that the dark circles under her eyes were more prominent than ever.

"I didn't expect any less," he quietly replied. He recalled how soft her skin was under his fingers last night. He wasn't sure what compelled him to do that – to touch her – but it felt right. He silently waited as she finished her food and cleaned up before he followed her to the couch again. She plopped down, cradling her mug of tea in her hands and nodded for him to continue.

He faced her and searched through his mind till he found an appropriate place to start.

"I've never liked the Voldemort's methods. Did you know that?"

She surveyed him skeptically but didn't interrupt.

"When I was young, my father always said 'The Dark Lord will lead us to a whole new era and when he returns, we will believe in him'. Of course, being young and naïve at that time, I listened and followed everything he said to the letter. I didn't have many great role models when I was young, so I got sucked into this world of hatred, power and crazy-assed people almost willingly. They made me believe the idea of a pureblood society and, for awhile there, I was just as crazy as they were."

He drew a deep breath before he continued.

"But when I was eleven, everything changed."

One of Hermione's eyebrows quirked upwards in disbelief when he said that, she eyed him from a moment before she asked the burning question:

"What happened then?"

"I met you," he whispered.

Now both eyebrows had shot up and he continued to stare at them, it was quite fascinating really…

It wasn't until she waved her hand in front of his face that he realized she was waiting for him to give her an explanation.

"So, you were saying something about meeting…me?" She asked meekly.

He flushed a tomato red.

"At that time, I thought like my father did, that you were a mud-muggleborn," he tried to cover up the mistake with a cough, but she let it slide. "Anyway, I thought that you were inferior and beneath me then, and was thoroughly put in my place when you bested me in everything, except quidditch," he added.

She glared at him for a second. He ignored that and continued:

"Anyways, I realized that blood type didn't matter at all, we were all the same. All that mattered was if one put in effort or not, which, to be honest, I really tried my best, but you still kept beating me each year!" he gestured towards her as he said so.

The side of her lips twitched upwards with this. He appreciated the idea that he had made her smile, albeit a small one. He gave her a small smile in return before he continued his story.

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Hermione stared at the form of Draco Malfoy, her mind spinning. She didn't know what to make of this… situation. First of all, he shows up at her house trying to apologize to her but she didn't believe it, and she still didn't, in fact. No one could have altered their personality that rapidly in her opinion. Draco Malfoy, as far as she knew, didn't apologize to anyone unless there was something in it for him. Secondly, he said that he changed because of her? How could that be? She didn't even realize she'd held that much influence on him. Yet, how could he say he had changed when he still acted like an arrogant stuck-up idiot for the rest of their school years?

She shot him a glare when he insinuated she sucked at quidditch, which, she couldn't deny, she really did. In all honesty, she didn't know whether to be flattered that she was the reason for his change, especially when they were talking about her beating him in terms of studies. Well, she mused, at least it wasn't because he fell miraculously in love with her or something, that would be barking mad.

She quickly refocused when he resumed talking.

"As I was saying, I had to reassess my pureblooded views when you were beating me in every subject. I reflected long and hard about it, and eventually I decided I wouldn't listen to what my father or what any other pure blood bigots were saying."

"Yet you were still rude to me all those years. Why would you do that if you had changed?" She questioned.

"I had to keep up a front. My father was a very skilled legilimens and my defenses weren't particularly strong then. I kept my revelations deep within me of course, but if I started treating you nicely on a day-to-day basis, he would no doubt pick up on it almost instantly. The punishment wasn't of a very comfortable kind, if I may say so," he shut his eyes and turned away from her as if recalling it caused him great distress. She saw a slight tremor run through his being.

She hadn't expected that to say the least. Draco Malfoy being abused? The concept was rather hard to grasp. She flashed back to those moments in school. He had appeared to be enjoying himself in his pureblooded society, but then again, one could never judge a person by their cover. Her views on him were slowly being altered. Realizing that, she mentally slapped herself. How could she change her mind? He still was there when she was tortured, and when she begged him to help her, he did nothing at all. Nothing. But, as she looked at him, she knew when to drop the subject. Clearly, this was a difficult topic for him.

She jerked slightly when he spun around.

"I'm sorry. Just that this is all so hard," his voice broke towards the end.

Her breath stuck in her throat. This was Draco Malfoy at his most vulnerable moment; she never thought she'd witness it. His eyes were searching hers; they were laced with so much pain, hurt and anger. Somehow, at that moment she knew…

He was as broken as she was.

A/N: What do you think of this chapter? Let me know by leaving a review!

I appreciate all the support and reviews for this story. It feels really great when someone leaves a review or adds this story to their favorites. It shows i'm going somewhere!

I recently published a one-shot for Harry/Hermione fans out there. It's titled 'Speak Now' and it's based loosely on the song by Taylor Swift. Check that out as well and let me know your thoughts!

AmandaCJY

P.S. Just a curious question for my readers: If there was one thing you could change about Harry Potter, what would it be?