Disclaimer: JK Rowling, you did an awsome job, now you are done and we´re left without new books. The characters are all yours; I just borrow them for a while. I don´t make money out of it, so please don´t sue me!

Chapter4: Shared dreams, not lost.

Marco Daniels was still not quite himself the next morning. There wasn't a day he didn't think about his former life as Draco Malfoy, but those nights that he couldn't sleep at all because he had to relive through the incidents in the woods, where they had Hermione Granger, had luckily become fewer over the long years. Still they hit him every time just as it had happened yesterday. He asked himself, what he could have changed. How he could have avoided to even have come to that point of his life. And he also asked himself how he could ever live a normal life with that past. He had a good job, of course and was respected. Money wasn't a problem, his salary wasn't enough for gemstones anymore, but still sufficient to guaranty him the few pleasures of his life: a good glass of wine, his roof top and a fine selection of newspapers and cultural journals from all over the world.

Today in the morning he hadn't received his Guardian though. He still checked that one most carefully, although he would never admit to himself that he was looking for signs of the wizarding community. He didn't get to read the Prophet of course, so he had to relay on the Muggle path of information – unclear death were always a bad sign or strange behavior of Owl species. Sighing Marco decided to just check the paper over the internet before rushing to work, there was no need to change his daily routine just because the mail had messed up.

Strangely the Guardian website didn't work, too. In Nepal that was something quite usual, because the government used to censor the foreign media, but he had never suffered of that in his years in Chile. Well, maybe the connection is just wrong, I wanted to check something on google anyway. He was still tired though, not surprisingly considering the amount of sleep he had got – none. So while his eyes were falling shut for a second his fingers relaxed so that he accidentally hit one of the advertisement links on google.

It was a dating site or something like that. Something about stupid dreams stupid people had. "As if I ever was looking for a date, voluntarily even! You are crazy to assume that adds would be of interest for me, machine." Marco was just trying to click it away, when line hit him like a lightening stroke: "pero aceptarme como estoy en el presente". He quickly read through the 7 liner translating it into English in his head:

"I dream that just once somebody wouldn't search for answers in my past,

but take me as I am in the present.

I dream that just once somebody wouldn't only see my present outside,

but help me see what already lies within me

and where my path winds to in the future.

I dream that just once somebody would keep me from dreaming about a better future,

because the past and present created together already would be a real dream."

He could sign that without looking at it twice. But such a "somebody" wouldn't exist, ever. Well, Marco would certainly not ask questions about the past, and even if he liked pretty woman, the brains and heart were far more important, and he would be glad to even dream about a better future, but having a dream present would of course be even better. Still, he didn't date – not in real life, and even less online. So he just clicked the website away and set off for the embassy.

The morning went on quietly and Marco found his thoughts wandering to the familiar dream of the unknown person regularly. That was strange because thanks to the ability of occluding his mind he normally was quite capable on concentrating on his work. He would never have gotten so far, couldn't he do so. But still, today, he wondered if that really was his deepest desire, his dream of life. Or wasn't it more like that he wanted to be accepted and trusted and loved despite somebody knowing his past? Wasn't it that once meeting a woman he already knew that she was only looking at him because of his looks and position in society? And beside he couldn't tell them anything about his real inside – nobody would accept the horrible person he was, he just wished somebody could pick the positive pieces of his soul together and make him a better person. And what did he needed to even think about present, future and past as a dream if all he wanted to do was to live – it would be enough, he didn't need a perfect life. He just needed any beside his work and past. Those were the dreams that for him lay behind those lines. But what might have been behind them for the writer? He would never know, because he would never write a reply.

Still, in the evening the thoughts still bothered him, so he decided to at least read the other person's dream again. After searching for a while he found the right website again and then he just couldn't resist. He would never meet that person, but what harm could be done by one email? Just sharing some thoughts about a dream, that seemed to be shared? He could mask himself pretty well even more – he didn't have to give his real name, age, nationality or anything.

So he just registered a new account, using his old pet name "little dragon" as a nick name and started to type randomly:
" Mayita, I would take you as you are in the present and as you were in the past and as you will be in the future. Because I would wish the same for me, that somebody knowing or not knowing about what happened during my childhood or teenage years, would just accept me, with my internal and external flaws and strengths as an equal, not as somebody who is thought to be perfect, but truly couldn't be anything but lost."

With that Marco pressed the send button, not even thinking about translating his thoughts into Spanish or realizing that this was just the most upfront statement he had made in all his life. Seconds later he was mortified, he had wanted to write something philosophical/psychological, something impersonal. Instead he had made the most personal confession and himself sound like some freak that was just dying of loneliness and would promise anything just not to be alone anymore.

The sad truth was, exactly that applied to him. Only that his promise was complete openness and trust, something that for him, a Slytherin, and a Malfoy even, was far harder to give than anything else. Maybe he had been able to give it now, because he thought that nobody would be able to read it anyway – he had written in the wrong language and not revealed anything about himself. He didn't have to worry about the consequences, because there would be none. Little did he know, that this first uncalculated outburst of a Malfoy ever, would change everything…

A/N.: Still no reviews – but thanks for the 211 clicks and the 22 people who even stayed with Eva, Draco/Marco and me until Chapter 3 :). I think I will continue writing for you, even if I have to admit that it's hard not to completely put myself into question for apparently being one of the few authors who doesn't get any reviews at all. Maybe it's just too boring or too confusing or too badly written? I would appreciate any flames, honestly!