Draco,
Soft patters of steps rebounded from elaborate ceilings and intricately carved walls. It was quite empty, an unfamiliarity within the walls of the castle she called home during her teenaged youth. She found herself wandering aimlessly from corridor to corridor, searching for something and yet nothing.
It all began in Hogwarts. As it typically should, after all, it's a place of significance where life for me had changed.
Navigation was based on muscle memory. She didn't expect to see anything or anyone wherever she went. Each classroom was empty yet the tables were lined neatly stacked with books or used quills and parchment. Tables for professors weren't deserted, rather they were filled to the brim of untouched lesson plans and formulas of words she can name off from the top of her head.
She headed straight for the Gryffindor Tower. It was curious that she hadn't seen anyone yet. She felt morbidly alone in such a wide spans of land.
She slid into the red common room of her designated House and paid no mind that there wasn't an official door. There wasn't a portrait to block the entrance. Her mind eased at the familiarity of the cracking fire and the fresh scent of something so distinguishably Gryffindor. She plopped herself onto the scarlet couch, feeling warmth dance through her fingertips. She missed the place.
It was so quiet. There was no one, there was nothing. It was daunting, however the abnormal lack of people in the castle didn't feel threatening. It actually felt like clouds, where I felt free of problems and stress that hounds at me daily.
Her fingers lingered on the edges of the couch. She pondered the thought of exploring places of the castle she hadn't been to, something she'd been wanting to do in her years there if it wasn't for the idea of being caught by authorities and other students who loved to snitch.
She first went to the Ravenclaw Tower. Just like Gryffindor's, there wasn't a door. Until now, she hadn't had the chance to fully drink in the house she had nearly the most potential to be in if it wasn't for her stoutly attitude that got her into Gryffindor. She eyed the blue decor and walls that exuded excellence, past the sofas and tables piled with books. She felt just as much as home her as she did in Gryffindor.
She went past the kitchens next, into the Hufflepuff tower she never really thought about. It wasn't as bright and shiny as she assumed the room would be, instead it was a fair shade of yellow that oozed with energetic happiness. Her eyes fell upon little knickknacks and an untouched basket of food located on their desks. She felt a bit off at the yellowness of the room, nonetheless had a comforting feel to it.
Last was the infamous Slytherin common room, where she had put away all past resentment for the house and it's people. She had just as much curiosity of the appearance of the tower as she had with the other houses. She walked down the stone steps into the dungeon, her eyes widened at the green common room filled with upscale furniture she hadn't expected.
What shook her to the core though, was a tall man standing still in front of the dark green sofa. His hands were bunched in his pockets of his black slacks with the top half of his suit neat and tidy to the bone.
At her soft gasp, his gaze lifted up from the table he stared down at and deliberately reached to meet the startled eyes of hers.
"Malfoy?!"
You were there. I saw you, standing tall and firm in your suit you wore in sixth year. It was unbelievable; I hadn't seen you in years. And now... now I see you in this artificial castle of my dreams?
It happened again. For the next few weeks.
She'd sleep immediately after late hours of her work to cope from her stress, and she'd find herself settled in different places when she'd fall into slumber. The most common setting in her dreams would have to be Hogwarts.
And each time, he was there.
And they talked.
Granted, it started off stiff and awkward, unknowing of what to say to each other despite it not mattering at all because he was a figment of her dreams. But this man was someone she never considered would be in her dream, let alone the only one to be in it out of all the other candidates that her dream could've used in place of him.
Gradually, after many more weeks later, their talks would become casual. There was still somewhat of an emotional barrier between them that kept from completely being themselves around each other, but it was casual enough to drop the awkward stances and fill the sudden silences they'd often have.
Regardless, talking to you felt like the air. It was easy yet sometimes it felt suffocating. I'd forget what you've done and start rambling about simple things. Yet before I get carried away, I remember myself. You were the boy who destroyed my childhood. I've moved past from it of course, but I never really planned on seeing you after Hogwarts.
"Have you eaten today?" The blond boy clad in a forest green robe and black trousers had asked her once on the comforts of the Gryffindor sofa. He'd complain, like his usual self would, that they should talk in the Slytherin room instead. But she refused, it felt more comfortable at a place somewhere familiar with someone who wasn't.
"No," she answered honestly. It's not like he'd care to judge anyway, he was a hoax. "Work was tiring today, I just wanted to sleep when I came home. So I did."
He furrowed his brows, thinking for a moment before encouraging her to follow him once he hopped off the couch and near the exit of the common room.
"Follow me."
She complied and they went to the kitchens, the door willingly opening at a mere touch of their palm. There, all corners of the counter were full of different types of meals and desserts. Her mouth watered at the delicious scent of the fresh food, but she frowned at the guy who set this up.
"You know this won't do anything, right?"
He looked at her confusedly, "What do you mean? It's food. Go eat."
She shook her head at him, forgetting that he wouldn't understand. "Nevermind. Thank you, Malfoy."
It was strange though. Some dreams were too much of a coincidence. When I dreamt of telling you I was hungry, a box of food was sent to my flat the day after claimed to come from an unknown admirer from work.
In another dream, they laid on the soft grass looking up at the bright constellations in the quidditch field. At this point, they were comfortable to talk about anything, from their favorite colors to their deepest concerns. Even to the point where they could say the stupidest things, and neither would criticize.
"You see that?" He raised his arm to point at the dark sky. "That's me."
"Where?" She squinted, trying to aim her sights perfectly to where he was pointing.
"That constellation." He nudged her with his shoulder. "It's me."
"Up there?" She raised a brow with a light smile. "You're small. If you're up there, then what are you doing down here?"
At the corner of her eyes, she saw his head turn to face her, looking transfixed the longer he looked at her.
"Enjoying my time here with you."
Some dreams made me melt. I couldn't for the life of me contain my heart at your sweet words that I didn't understand why you said. But I had to remind myself that you weren't real. This was just an ongoing fantasy my mind is playing with me, one that I didn't want to end.
"Granger- Granger, stop running!" His wand was drawn towards her while hers was brandished at him as well. Smirks and smiles were shared between them as they circled around the Great Hall, chasing each other with laughter.
"Come get me, Malfoy!" She taunted, waving her wand and casted another harmless spell that he easily avoided. "I'll forever be above you in dueling skills!"
"Rictusempta!" He casted at her sprinting form across the long room of the Hall, barely missing her until her arms got caught in its path. She stumbled onto the floor, squirming into a mess of uncontrollable giggles when she felt the air shift around her to caress her skin and her nerves tingling at the airy touch.
"I didn't hear you," Draco smirked, kneeling down towards the girl who curled into a ball as she attempted to suppress her laughter. "Did the bookworm say she's better than me? It doesn't look that way."
Hermione clenched her stomach, breathing heavily while letting loose a few more laughs as tears of mirth fell down her cheeks. "I-I'm—" she squirmed at another plight of ticklish tingles, kicking Draco in the process and causing him to fall flat on his arse with a scowl. "—still the best."
He sent her a half-hearted jeer, releasing her from the charm and settling in beside her.
"Obviously I'm better."
Other dreams were full of action and fun. Those dreams of us would leave me waking up with a smile on my face. And the rest of the day, my spirits would be kept lifted from the lingering excitement.
They sat on a field, the wind blowing past them not too aggressively but enough to make the grass ripple like soft waves. Hermione was facing the field of grass while Draco sat behind her, holding her hair in his hands.
"This isn't working!" He growled, his fingers losing grip of the three parted sections of her bushy hair. "It's either the wind or the bush of your hair!"
"It's the wind," she mused. "Or you're just braiding it wrong."
"I'm not!" His voice rose to a tenor. She snickered as she felt him tug her hair against her scalp, careful to not hurt her in the process of re-sectioning her hair again.
"Okay, watch me carefully," she slowly parted three sections of her hair, "Did you see?"
"No Granger, you were so slow I almost fell blind," he snarked.
"I'm going slow so I won't have to keep showing you!" She exclaimed, now crossing each section over the other in a specific way that helps accommodate her bushy hair into a neat braid. "Now do you see?"
"Merlin, now you went to fast!" He groaned.
"I literally went the same pace," she argued.
"You didn't! I was watching!"
"You're insufferable," she sighed against the wind.
"You're hair is insufferable," he snarled back. "Let me try it again."
In most dreams we argued like we usually do. Albeit, this time, our banters consisted of small topics that hardly had a significance to anything except our entertainment.
"Granger." He looked up from their chess game he was sorrowfully losing but refused to admit his defeat.
"Hmm?" She mumbled, pondering her next move.
"Can I call you Hermione?"
Hermione whipped her head sharply to face him in surprise. She nodded without thinking, half preoccupied with her thoughts of her strategy to fully comprehend the weight of what he had asked. Dropping surnames with the guy who bullied her in her childhood, that's something she didn't predict. Then again, he wasn't real.
"Yeah," she answered noncommittally. She looked back down at the game.
"Hermione?" He tried.
"What?"
"Call me Draco?" He asked with a twinge of hope, but if anything, the wistful note in his words won her over.
"Shut up, Draco. Concentrate on the game."
She noticed a bare hint of a smile he masked on his face.
There was that single dream in which you asked to call me by my name. I couldn't say no. Besides, we've been pretty acquainted the past three months in these dreams that felt so vivid and real under my eyelids.
"Tell me about your first day of school, Hermione," Draco implored one night in her dreams. They sat cross-legged on the Astronomy Tower, Hermione with comfortable laziness and Draco poised with innate elegance. It took awhile to get accustomed to his air of grace that contradicted hers. Nowadays, she forgets he's a pureblood raised in fine dignity when he wasn't constantly jeering at her about her lack of it.
"My first day of school?" She unconsciously gnawed at her lip. "What about it?"
She didn't recognize the dark look in his eyes when she turned to face him, but it made her stop gnawing the bottom of her lip. She swiped a quick tongue at it to check if she tasted the metallic taste of blood, but that action seemed to cause his eyes to darken even further.
Draco turned away, his face seemingly distracted. "You were a muggle going into Hogwarts. What's... what was that transition like?"
She brightened at the memory, her back arching straight. "Well, I thought it was the best thing that happened to me. I finally found out why I didn't belong, why I couldn't find someone in my muggle school to connect with on more than just a workmate level. It was because I was a witch."
She eyed the man beside him, finding that he was now staring back at her, intrigued.
"I wasn't always the best student actually," she smiled sheepishly at his surprised expression. "I obtained decent grades, one that was fairly average compared to other students."
"That's impossible to imagine," he scoffed.
"Yeah well," her smile faded, "Of course that changed when I went to Hogwarts. In the muggle world, I was known as the strange kid who talks about idiotic topics and has strange things happening around like I was haunted. I've been called names and teased at a lot.
"In Hogwarts, I thought that aspect of my life would change. I thought I'd found my niche in a place I've read so many books about to gain more knowledge of. Information was endless, and well, I thought I knew the basic necessities for being a simple witch when it turns out I exceeded more than just that."
He nodded at every word she said, garnering all of the information she trusted him with. Something she never thought she'd do with this Slytherin sitting besides her.
"But I was still..." she trailed off, her gaze fixed to the horizon.
"You were still bullied." He finished with a frown, his gaze faltering on his fingers that were playing with the cuffs of his sleeves. "And you still thought you were the strange kid at Hogwarts."
"Exactly," she swallowed. "Imagine being a reject from two worlds you could never truly fit in. I was alone with the only company of books for the first few weeks of school. It was quite lonely."
"I don't think I can imagine," he murmured. He then hung his head low, unable to look at her, "I apologize for how I was back then. I was a git and I condoned that kind of treatment to you especially. I'm so sorry, Hermione. I didn't know you felt like that. I'm so sorry."
She tilted his head with a finger to his chin, gently making him look at her. "It's alright. I'm over it anyway."
"I'm not." His jaw ticked, his hand scratching over his inner left forearm. It was a habit she picked up on when he was peeved or upset at a thought.
"How about you?" She asked, drawing the attention away from her to distract him from his thoughts. "How did you feel?"
He exhaled, "Exhilarated. My first train ride away from my parents and I was scared, but I was too excited to care. All the stories I've heard were becoming true, and I couldn't wait. I was still a prat though. I'm sorry."
She nearly rolled her eyes when he found a way to turn the subject onto her again. She reached forward, feeling him go stiff under her touch when she wrapped a loose arm around his shoulders.
"I forgive you, Draco."
We've had the deepest conversations I've never had with my other friends. It should be alarming how easily I trusted you in my dreams in just a short period. It made me think if I ever see you in person, how would I act around you?
She stared at the letter in her hands. Written in glittering gold calligraphy was a cordially formal invitation to the Hogwarts alumni ball. She couldn't comprehend for a long while what it said, repeating the words in her head over and over until it registered in her brain at the potential of seeing a specific someone she spent time with in her dreams.
She ran to her room, the adrenaline pumping of either excitement or apprehension for what she might expect there. She dove into the covers of her bed and screamed into her pillow, unsure of what to do.
But she did know that all she wanted to do was see the blond Slytherin she grew to know within the depths of her lucid dreams in flesh and blood at least once.
With the alumni ball coming near, I'd figure out soon. To pass the time, I'd be sleeping too often to dream about you again. Sometimes you never appeared and I'd wake up disappointed. Fortunately, most of the time you were there, and we'd spend time talking about as much as we can.
"Muggles do what?" He exclaimed incredulously, his eyes dilating to the fullest.
"Use high voltage electricity to shock a heart into beating properly," she recited matter of factly.
"What the fuck." He stared at her as if she's an alien. "Muggles are the strangest creatures on this planet."
"The muggles will probably think the same to wizards and witches if they know we exist."
"Muggles aren't going to live long," he shuddered, going paler than he naturally was. "They make up the weirdest things without magic."
"You have to admit, it's quite smart."
"Of course, because striking your heart with a thousand bolts of impractical man-made lightning is the smartest thing I've heard in my life."
"Volts," she corrected, "And not necessarily a thousand. It can go as low as one-hundred."
"That still sounds like a bloody lot."
She shrugged, "It works."
In another dream, they were sitting on the docks by the Black Lake, staring at the surface that reflected the sun and the dark ink that started to spread in its waters. They were incredibly close, swirling their bare feet in the water which was becoming obscure from the ink.
"Sometimes I wish this was real," she mumbled into their comfortable silence.
"How do you mean?" He responded, kicking her legs with his own and splashing them with the cold, murky water. She flinched at the coldness, kicking water back at him. He scowled.
"All of this," she gesticulated around them, "This is just a dream. All fiction. I don't even know you when I wake."
If Hermione had stared at him for a moment longer, she would have seen the way his brows raised at her disclosure. She would've seen the way how he inched closer to her to feel her presence as if to verify that she was, in fact, real and not a figment of either of their imaginations. She would've seen how his lips parted and eyes stared straight at hers, longing darkening his gaze. But she didn't.
"Then meet me," his voice sounded rough, like it grounded against sandpaper.
"Huh?" She said, perplexed with his demand.
"Find me. At the reunion."
"Come again?" She blinked.
He chuckled, finding humor in all of this and everything that occurred between them within the last five months of meeting each other between their dreams. "I'll be there. Let's find each other."
He reached out, grasping her hand in his. She didn't flinch or pull back, but rather squeezed her warm hand against his. She didn't fully understand, because to her, he's still just a ghost her mind conjured to comfort her in her dreams.
But to him, she's as real as his love for her.
"Find me."
The day came. The nerves were endless when I set foot on Hogwarts grounds after years. I was excited to see Harry, Ron, Ginny, and the rest of them at the reunion. And especially nervous to see you.
"Hermione!" She turned expectantly, only for her shoulders to deflate guiltily when she assumed it was the guy she desperately wanted to meet.
"Harry!" She beamed, her arms spreading wide to embrace him into a hug. "I missed you so much! You're always so busy with auror duties."
"I'm a couple floors below you, Mione. You literally visit my office at least five times a week," Harry deadpanned, nonetheless returned her embrace.
"I do?" She asked innocently. Switching gears, she asked, "Where's Ron? I heard he had a game somewhere in Bulgaria against Victor Krum's team."
"Right here, Mione. And we've won against his team," an arm sling around her neck, a wide grin stretching across his face. He eyed her dress, a color that matched the house she used to be in. "You look pretty, Hermione."
"Thanks," she smiled, only for it to falter when she spotted a tuft of familiar white hair peek above the crowd of their class of mingling alumni. Her pulse quickened. "I'll get myself a drink, boys. You guys can catch up, I'll find you later."
Without another word, she quickly walked to where the refreshments was before she detoured around the room to find where she last saw the platinum blond hair. She sighed when she realized she lost him, disappointment flooding her veins. Why was she even trying? He doesn't know that she dreams about him every single night of them having a special rendezvous around the very castle they were in.
Before she turned to head back to her two friends, she saw him.
Poised stiff and firm, he was dressed in a priceless black and white suit adorned with a small, pink rose on the pocket of his suit and dark green thread embroidered around his attire that made his clothing look twice expensive. She noticed how his distinctive silver eyes focused attentively on a girl wearing all things green as she latched onto his arms, his head lowering to whisper something close to her ears.
The girl looked modest, but showed more skin than Hermione could ever. She looked absolutely beautiful with her dark hair that cascaded like majestic waterfalls over her smooth shoulders and sparkling eyes that caught the dim light of the floating lanterns by the ceiling. She looked breathtaking and looked more fit at his side than Hermione.
Hermione's heart lurched at that, her previous disappointment being fueled at the false idea that she possibly had a sliver of a chance to make conversation with the guy who took her heart. She felt her eyes burn with her emotions, and she found herself running away from the sight and out of the Great Hall where their memory of their tickling duel had been prominent in her mind.
The nerves turned ugly. I couldn't see you again after seeing her on your arm. Of course you had a date. Of course you were taken. Someone as attractive and amazing as you should be taken. I was just a blubbering fool.
She kicked the murky water, her tears fighting to let loose. But she refused to let them fall. Fall for the man she grew to care for because of a stupid reoccurring dream she had of him. She wanted to scream and shout, but nothing other than a mere whimper broke the silence.
"Aren't you supposed to be at the castle?" A voice startled her and she jumped, almost tripping into the Black Lake if it wasn't for a familiar hand that reached out and pulled her up against his front.
"Draco," she gasped, her eyes wide at their close proximity. "What are you—" she coughed to clear her throat "—What are you doing here?"
"Helping out a lost damsel," he smirked lightly, his fingers wrapping around her waist to secure her and traveled tentatively across her back. She shivered under his touch, his fingers feeling like fire against her dress.
"I'm not lost," she scowled, breaking free from his burning hold, "I came here on purpose."
"Of course," he nodded around the docks. "Does this place mean something to you?"
She blinked at the question, swallowing down the truth, "Well, it's where we first set foot as first years. So yeah, I guess you can say that."
His silver eyes bore into hers, staring deep into her pools of brown as if searching for the legitimate answer. She had half the mind to fling her arms around his shoulders and tell him how long she'd been waiting for this moment to see him in person face-to-face.
"Why did you really follow me?" She asked him instead, her turn to search for answers in the grey flecks of his eyes. He remained indifferent.
"Because you found me," he responded simply.
"I'm not... I'm not understanding," she whispered out. But she did. She understood entirely. But she was afraid she was wishing for the impossible.
"You saw me. With Astoria. I was going to go after you when I saw you with Potter and Weasley, but she stopped me. Apologies for the delay."
Her heart began to quicken with vitality. Her lips curled onto an 'O' as words were unable to form.
"Turn around," he said to her in a tone that made her toes curl.
Her mouth went dry, "Why?"
His arms reached out to hold her shoulders, carefully turning her around so that she faced the glowing sunset as the sun sunk into the inky lake. She held her breath when she felt his calloused fingers tangle into her hair, combing through tresses of curls. His fingers weaved and crossed a pattern to her hair, her hair tight against her scalp when she felt him gently move the braid he successfully made over the front of her shoulder.
She must've suffocated when she felt his warm lips press against the soft skin of her bare neck a little longer than he should've.
"I practiced," he murmured into her ear, then added as an afterthought, "With my mum."
Hermione laughed, the kind of laughter that mixed joy, relief, and excitement, as she turned around and jumped into his arms. He stumbled back, a laugh of his own when he picked her up and swung her around. He took precautions of where he stepped in case he accidentally dropped them both into the lake. The thought of them falling at a reunion like this amused him.
But you weren't taken. And you knew. Oh Merlin, you knew! You were really in my dreams with me! I couldn't wrap my head around that fact. The entire time, I thought you weren't real.
"Do you know how long I've waited for this day? I dreaded it too because what if I was delusional? I didn't want to face the idea that everything we did together each night wasn't real since it felt too real." She smiled brightly, her excitement blooming as she spilled out her happiness.
He returned a contented smirk, amused at her blabbering, "What we did together each night, eh? How naughty of you to say such things, Granger."
That comment earned a bright red face, making Draco's lips curve jovially.
"That's not what I meant," she leaned against his chest, her arms still wrapped around his neck while his rested against her waist. "How come we share each other's dreams? I've always wondered."
He shrugged, "I've been practicing my legilimency around the time I first entered your mind. It didn't go very... swimmingly. When I slept, it must've had some side affects and linked to your dreams." He looked down at her. "I'm glad it linked with you."
"Good thing it did," she hummed.
"Hermione?" He asked after a long moment of silence that settled between them as they watched the sunset in each other's arms.
"Hmm?" She mumbled.
"Can I kiss you?"
Hermione grinned and looked up, her arms pulling Draco's face closer to hers as she kept their lips centimeters away.
"Absolutely," she said before his lips softly pressed against her own in a gentle passion of love they didn't have to officially declare to know. Because with the hungry but tentative movements of Draco's lips against hers, she knew Draco cared and adored her just as much as she does for him.
"I've been wanting to do that for so long," he admitted, his eyes still closed when he pulled away.
"Me too," she pressed a kiss against his lips again. "More than you know."
But you were real. We were real. This entire ordeal has been real, and it still is real years later. I still can't believe our story, and the fact that we discovered more about our mind link made us surpass a relationship beyond intimacy. We were bonded. We've been bonded. And that still blows my mind.
Your soulmate,
Hermione Malfoy