 Chapter 11
As promised, here's another chapter!
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I returned to the Gryffindor common room unscathed that night, thankfully. Malfoy’s face still swam in my mind as I changed into my nightgown. What had he meant when he said, “You know you like the attention I give you”? I most certainly did not like Malfoy hounding me, talking to me, touching me. Or did I?
Shivering at the thought, I dashed under the covers of my four-poster. Malfoy never had this effect on me. But even I had to admit to myself that though his presence grieved me, it sparked something within that I found inescapably attractive.
Stop thinking like this!
Burying my face into my pillow and letting my unbound hair fall around my shoulders, I waited tensely for sleep to come.
And I dreamed. It was an absurd dream, yet at the same time it appealed to me. A lot. In my dream, the slender form of a blonde-haired individual walked towards my bed, where I was sitting up with the covers wrapped around my shoulders. He sat down beside me and I distinguished him, not surprisingly, as Draco Malfoy. “This is a dream,” I told him. “The alarm goes off when a boy enters the girls’ dormitories.” Of course it was a dream.
He said nothing to me. Malfoy moved closer to me, his breath unusually warm on my cheek. But from the moonlight reflecting in his eyes I could see something different than cruelty and anger. Something good.
And in a dream like this, one did things that one would never dream of doing. Maybe it was the thoughts of Malfoy before falling asleep that prompted me to draw closer to him, or maybe it was a new daring instilled in me, but whatever it was, I cared not. His silvery strands of hair fell across my fingers as I touched his brow. An effusion of warmth met my mouth as his lips found mine.
My heart was thudding louder than I ever remembered it pounding. This was crazy—me and Malfoy snogging? But I remembered it was a dream, and anything could happen in dreams.
I sighed as he stroked my jaw line slowly after we had broken apart. My breathing was quick and my arms felt tingly.
And he faded into mist. I reached my fingers out to grasp him, but he’d already gone. I blinked hard, but he was gone. Then he whispered, “Hey, Granger…” from the other side of my bed.
I turned over to see him sitting on my other pillow. Strangely, I was not startled. He curled his lip and beckoned me towards him. I crawled out of the blankets engulfing me to sit beside him. He turned me around and I leaned against his chest, feeling it move up and down with every breath. One of his hands moved up my arm; it was extremely pale in the moonlight.
I could feel his fingers working in my hair. He ripped a thin strip of his emerald robes so as to make a ribbon and gathered my hair in a soft ponytail. “Lovely,” he purred into my ear—the only word he had spoken to me the whole duration.
I don’t remember where or how he went after that, but dreams never actually made sense, anyways.
Awaking at the usual time the next morning, I stretched and looked around—no sign of Malfoy; that was certain. It had seemed so real when it had happened. Just to make sure, I reached behind and felt my hair. It was still loose about my shoulders, and there was no emerald ribbon entangled within it. Though I felt relieved, I also felt disappointed at the same time. Very disappointed. And I didn’t know why.
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