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Daydreams	By : BitterWind Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 8997 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters, settings, etc from those books or movies. I do this as a creative writing exercise and do not earn any money from writing this fictional story.

Chapter List
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Chapter Four: By the Lake

The next day Malfoy trailed Hermione. He didn’t make any drama about it, merely stood up when she did, after breakfast, and followed behind her as she left. She walked briskly outside, and Draco followed.

It was a damp October day. Really if any type of season and weather was his preference, it was this. Chill, overcast. A day when a jumper, a heavy coat and mittens made one almost too warm, but were still necessary when out of doors. His cheeks were cold and surely quite pink. Days like this made his eyes stand out of his pale face in such a pronounced way that many people, adults and students, had fawningly mentioned it in the past. Truly, although he had once savored and appreciated these compliments, reflecting on his own reflection now simply sickened him. Although he didn’t have a physical scar to mar his features like the Golden Boy, the face he saw in the mirror, his face under his face, so to speak, was ugly and misshapen.

But today was not about him, but about her. He followed her as she approached the edge of the Forbidden Forest, joining a class of fourth years who shuffled around in the cold, rubbing their hands together. He too stood amongst these children, several inches taller than most, an unaccountable misfit in their ranks. But after a swift glance, they all kept their eyes on the Herbology professor that was talking about the mushrooms that grew in this region. He shrugged his shoulders. Perhaps they’d been given some sort of careful instructions before term began. Beware the Death Eater, or some such.

The old bat mumbled about spores, fungus, something. Draco really couldn’t remotely care, only to wonder why Granger was attending classes in this manner after she had already moved beyond such foolishness. Why was she here, at Hogwarts? What was she studying?

Draco continued along with the class, trailing slightly behind as they moved towards the Great Lake, eyes on the ground, identifying plants. Granger, as always, seemed completely absorbed in the lecture, raising her hand to answer and ask questions, dominating the class as she had always done. He absently wondered if she realized that in her own thirst for knowledge, she seemed to be stealing that same opportunity for those around her. But really, he was not surprised, in that thought. He’d often believed that the Precious Threesome had been at heart, hugely egocentric. Maybe even on par with himself.

He leaned against a tall, blackened tree. Its bark was cold on his back and rough, but he enjoyed the sensation. He watched her, as he had not done so before. Studying her mannerisms, the way she cocked her head to the side, ever so slightly, before she spoke, and her incessant habit of touching her hair. Smoothing it down, pulling it behind her ears, twisting it around her finger. Again, she was so focused that she didn’t appear to register his presence. A ghost, indeed.

Since he was so damned invisible to all around him, he did not try in the least to hide his movements as he slipped the tiny bottle from his coat pocket, touched his tongue to the open top, recorked and replaced it. It took seconds. His eyes never left her face, wide brown eyes on the professor, mouth scrunched up in disagreement with some point just proposed.

The class continued. He saw nothing, but knew this time, that he must wait. Cultivate patience. Which was truly not his forte. Leaves crunched underfoot, the smell of damp earth, the call of a bird as it flew across the lake. The chill in the air deepened and students kept their hands deep in their pockets, tightened scarves.

The professor finally realized that the weather was besting her in relationship to her student’s attention. She turned the class and began the trek back to the castle. Hermione paused at the water’s edge, looking out across the vast murky lake. Draco also paused, up on a hill, just slightly behind Granger, out of her line of sight. He placed his hands on another tree leaning forward, opening his eyes slightly in anticipation as he saw a familiar shimmer begin to form on top of, around, the girl. Like double vision, he saw her standing tall, Gryffindor scarf wrapped securely around her neck, red jumper, wool slacks, leather book sack bulging across her hip.

But he also saw something else. He drew in a quiet breath.

On top of that same image of the bushy haired bookworm, was another Granger. This one was slightly taller, with thick long reddish brown hair that trailed to her feet. Gone were the heavy shoes and clothes, replaced by….nothing.

Nothing.

Nothing. At. All.

Granger was wishing, in fact, that she was standing on the edge of the Forbidden Forest, wind blowing gently through her long mane of hair that hung like a curtains around her pale, unclothed body.

Draco’s eyes peered intently and he absently rubbed his neck, looking at Granger’s naked form. Oh, he did not see anything he shouldn’t. Her hair obscured what he might perhaps name the choicer bits of a girl, but…

an exposed thigh, a bare shoulder, the arch of her neck

He saw those. And while part of him was puzzled over why she would wish to appear so, another part of him slowly...slowly but persistently...began to warm of it’s own accord, realizing that in fact, Granger was a girl, well...more than a girl, although not quite a woman. But definitely more than he’d ever….

This vision turned and walked straight into the cold and dark waters of the lake, turning it’s back to him completely. She waded slowly, hair trailing like seaweed, darkening in the water, until she suddenly leaped forward, legs merging into a long, scaled column, dark emerald, blue with glints of gold, a wide, curling fin trailing behind. Mermaid she now was, she dipped below the waves, until nothing was seen of her.

Malfoy unfroze, realizing his hand was rubbing his lips. Granger stood before him, sturdy shoes, heavy coat, definitely clothed, continuing to look at the lake before she shook her shoulders and head back in forth, readjusted her packsack, and turned to join the others. She glanced up, seeing him for the first time, watching her.

His eyes slid away from hers, abruptly embarrassed in an acutely unfamiliar way.

“Malfoy,” she named him, with a curt nod, as she walked towards the castle, looking back once over her shoulder at him, still standing on the same spot, hands in his pockets, before he turned his back on her and quickly walked in the opposite direction.

That night, while a crescent moon inched across the black sky, Malfoy lay in his bed, thinking of the lake and its denziens. And upon waking the next morning, he was grateful that his father had not glimpsed his son's dreams. Lucius would not have approved in the slightest.
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Daydreams