2 Hours : Ten Minutes : Fifteen Seconds
(Draco Malfoy)
After a while of wallowing in sadness, Draco stands up and dries his icy gray eyes. He is ashamed of himself for crying, crying as he reflected on her. Her beauty, her knowledge. The love that was always directed at someone else. The obvious love in her eyes for Ron and Harry is always enough to make Draco want to scream. What if it was for him? So much would have been better, so much would have changed. Draco closes his eyes and pictured her. Most nights, this is the only way he can get to sleep without being troubled by frightful nightmares. Her beautiful brown eyes, so tender and full of compassion. Her light hair, rippling over her pale shoulders. But most of all, her voice, her words. Always the same line, fabricated by years of hearing her speak from a distance, His imagination created it, since of course, she would never even look at him, never mind profess her love to him. "I love you Draco. Please be mine forever." Draco can't help it, but tears well up in his eyes again as he pictures this familiar hope, this vision that would never in a million years come true. His visions are always punctured by sadness and lust. Lust for Hermione, who will never be his. Who would never even consider going to the ball with someone like him. A freak.
Draco looks up. His heart pounds, and his breath quickens. The new idea races through his mind. It's crazy, he knows, but what if it worked? If this one insane thought would give him even a single ounce of happiness, even for one night? Draco knows to well not to trust a hope. He has learned too much from expecting things from people, promises that grow old and eventually wither away. Instead of making him stronger, Draco now shies away from ever putting trust in people. This is why it is so hard for him to do this. He is going to try to ask Hermione Granger to the Yule Ball. By means of a talking Patronus.