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Patented Daydream Charms	By : Padfoot Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 24585 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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Chapter 8


Draco had assumed he�d feel happy about being released from the
infirmary. He was not,
however. As his eyes raked over the
wooden surface of the all too familiar cabinet in front of him, he felt like
retching. Draco found himself back
in the same place he had been at the start of September. He felt like a hamster in one of those
cartwheel things, no matter how hard he ran or whatever he tried, he was still
stuck in an unbreakable loop and found himself ending up in the same spot over
and over again. Draco couldn�t
believe it had almost been an entire school year. He had wasted an entire year of his life
standing in front of a sodding cabinet.


It would be his birthday soon.
He�d be 17, even though he felt like hadn�t had the chance to experience
being 16 yet. Draco wished he could
go home. His home had always been a
safe haven to him. What a joke, he
thought. If he succeeded in his
task, going home to Wiltshire was obviously out of the question; he would have
to go into hiding. And if he didn�t
succeed, then not getting to return home and going into hiding would be the
best-case scenario.


In a fit of anger, Draco harshly kicked his foot against the cabinet; its
door rattling a few times at the force of his attack, but quickly turned back
motionless. It looked as if the
cabinet was turning him the other cheek to taunt him. Draco grunted and whirled around,
placing his hands against a grandfather clock for support, lowered his head and
took a few deep, calming breaths; knowing he couldn�t afford to lose his wits
now.

He lifted his head again and winced
at seeing his reflection in the glass windows of the clock. Draco used to be so proud of his looks;
nature had been kind to him, but he also knew that didn�t mean he needn�t take
care of himself. His current
preoccupation with things that were more important, combined with bad eating
habits, hadn�t done him much good in the looks department. His hair wasn�t shiny and vibrant, his
facial complexion didn�t look smooth and healthy and his nails were chipped and
neglected, while usually they were manicured to perfection. Due to abandoning Quidditch, Draco had
also lost his muscular physique. He
wasn�t lean and slender anymore, he was skinny and gangly; his cheeks hollowed
in a way that disturbingly reminded him of his Aunt Bellatrix right after she
had escaped from Azkaban.




Making a sour face at himself, he turned back around and faced the
cabinet. As he advanced on his
worst nemesis, Draco promised to himself that he wouldn�t go down without a
fight. If he was going to die,
whether it�d be at the hand of Voldemort, Dumbledore, or, heaven forbid, Potter,
he would die kicking and screaming.
Draco had lost all interest in sustaining his pride and
self-respect. As far as he was
concerned, he had lost all his self-respect the day he had become Voldemort�s
hand puppet. They were all
hypocrites. Even his father, who
had always lectured him on upholding the Malfoy pride, was nothing but a
grovelling coward. He used to
grovel before Voldemort, but when Voldemort vanished, Lucius had started
grovelling before the ministry, pleading with them to believe him when he
claimed to have been under the Imperius curse, only to later return to his
former lord, grovelling once again to take him back and not punish him for his
unfaithfulness. Lucius Malfoy was
simply too cowardly to pick a side and stick with it.


�Just like me,� Draco thought miserably.

*

�Go
ahead, Ron,� Hermione said when she noticed that he was waiting for so they
could leave together. �I�ve still
go to sort out my notes.�


�Sure,� Ron replied with a shrug.
�See you later.�


�Yeah, see you,� Hermione said absentmindedly, rummaging through her
parchments, trying to get them in the correct order.

The
Head Students and Prefects held a meeting at the end of each month to exchange
experiences, give each other feedback and to make up a schedule for patrols for
the following month. Even though
she did manage to write down the more important matters, Hermione had found
herself rather distracted during this meeting. Even if she had known that Malfoy had
been released from the infirmary, she wouldn�t have expected him to attend. His job as a Prefect had clearly not
been high on his list of priorities this year and his attendance at the meetings
had been scarce and erratic. What
surprised Hermione even more than Malfoy�s unexpected attendance was that he had
chosen to sit right next to her, even though at the time of his arrival there
had been plenty of other places for him to sit. Malfoy was obviously trying to confuse
or annoy her, and the fact that he was succeeding annoyed her even more.

Intentional
or not, she didn�t know, but added to simply sitting next to her he also had
kept brushing his upper leg against hers, each contact making her cheeks flush
and turn a bright shade of pink. He
was also sitting so close she could actually smell him; his shampoo, the
flowery scent of his fabric softener, a hint of what could be a touch of
cologne, and some spices she guessed belonged to Malfoy himself. Hermione had had to mind herself not to
lean to the left, closer to Malfoy, to get more near that intoxicating
aroma. What was even more confusing
was that Ron had been sitting on her other side and that she had no urge
whatsoever to get closer to him.
Perhaps his scent was too familiar, she wondered.

During
the entire meeting, Hermione had avidly scribbled away at her parchment, her
sentences sometimes unintelligible or not making any sense, but in her opinion,
it had been a good way to try keeping her mind on saner things than on how nice
Malfoy smelled.

�Lost your date book?�

�What?�
Hermione asked, snapping out of her stupor, frowning at the person standing
beside her.

In
explanation, Malfoy nodded his head towards Hermione�s hand. She looked down and groaned inwardly
when she realised that Malfoy had caught her at one of her quirky little habits,
the one in question being that she had the tendency to write things on the back
of her hand, things that were too important to forget and she might overlook
when not checking her date book.

�I
reckon you can still fit �shag Malfoy� somewhere in-between �buy quill� and
�patrol 9 pm�,� Draco said matter-of-factly, leaning in and squinting his eyes
to try and make out what she had written.


�Sod off, Malfoy!� Hermione spat tiredly, quickly shoving her hand under
the table and out of his view.


It wasn�t Malfoy�s behaviour that bothered her as such, but the
uncertainty of his intentions. Did
he see her in a different light due to the daydreams, like she had with him, or
was he mocking her because the idea of Hermione Granger also being a sexy young
woman was ridiculous to him?
Hermione wasn�t sure if she should feel flattered of insulted by Malfoy�s
sudden interest in her. So as long
as she didn�t know if he was complimenting her, she would simply assume he was
insulting her, which was possibly the more likely scenario.


�Not feeling very affectionate today, Granger?� he smirked. �I though that with you Gryffindors
using every excuse to hug each other, you lot would be up for it 24/7. Honestly, I�ve noticed you draping
yourself around Potter every time he manages to succeed in something with the
difficulty equivalent of tying his shoelaces. Don�t you suppose that after all
these years, your still undefeated verbal-sparring partner deserves a bit of
loving?�


�My body is my temple, Malfoy,� Hermione retorted, trying to mirror his
cheap banter to avoid an actual fight, which would prove he was getting to
her. �I don�t smoke, I only drink
on special occasions, and I don�t let just anyone use my body to release their
excess fluids.�


�Nice one, Granger,� Draco smirked.
�Was that retort something you thought of on the spot or did you come up
with it so quickly because you have to say this to Potter and Weasley on a daily
basis?�


�That�s just crude, even for you,� Hermione huffed, veered from her seat,
grabbed her parchments in a messy heap and headed towards the
door.


�What happened to sorting out your notes?� Malfoy called after her,
clearly amused by her strong reaction to him.


Hermione didn�t reply and was instead planning to leave the room in a
dramatic exit. She soon noticed a glitch in this plan when she realised she
didn�t have a vacant hand to open the door. Hermione cursed when she pressed her back
against the door, tried using her elbow against the door handle and sent a few
of her notes flying.


�Need some help?� Draco asked, smugly opening the door for
her.


Hermione grudgingly found herself enforced to accept his offer since the
only alternative was to remain in the room, which she wanted even less than to
admit she needed a hand. She
stepped through the doorway, but not before shooting him one heck of a nasty
glare.


Draco leaned against the wall and grinned while watching Granger angrily
stride off through the hallway. It
gave him a great feeling of satisfaction when he got her riled up like
this. He supposed that he liked to
get Granger angry since then it was obvious she wasn�t indifferent to him,
because he�d rather have her dislike him, which at least was a feeling, than to
be indifferent. Also, when she got
angry and frustrated there was an uncanny resemblance to how she looked like in
the Daydreams when aroused; her cheeks flushed and her eyes dark and sparkling
with a predatory-like gleam.
It sounded odd, even to him, but Draco thought that provoking Granger in
real life might actually be more entertaining than shagging her in his
Daydreams.

*

Hermione grunted and leaned against
the windowsill of Gryffindor tower.
She had looked everywhere for Harry. She thought it was odd that he wasn�t at
lunch, so she had gone up Gryffindor tower to see if he was taking a nap or
something. He wasn�t. Where was he, then? She couldn�t wait to brag about the
Half-Blood Prince turning out to be a girl, a notion Harry had cast aside from
the start. She had finally
found someone who might be the Half-Blood Prince, a girl called Eileen Prince,
and Hermione was desperate to show Harry her discovery.

When she absentmindedly stared out
the window, she suddenly caught sight of two people walking towards the lake;
one with black hair and the other with red. Hermione gasped, realising it were Harry
and Ginny, turned around and quickly ran out the portrait hole, hoping she�d be
able to catch up with them. Harry and Ginny had been a couple for few weeks
now. The way Harry had just grabbed
Ginny and kissed her after Gryffindor had won the Quidditch-cup could have fit
right into a daydream charm, Hermione thought with a smile. She was especially happy for Ginny,
knowing that she probably would never have found happiness before Harry got his
head out of his arse and see her in another way than Ron�s little sister.

She ran across the lawn towards the
spot where she�d last seen them.
She faltered for a moment, not sure where they went. She went towards the lake, heading there
on a hunch. After a few moments she
started debating on taking another destination when she had almost reached the
lake and still hadn�t heard any voices, which she probably should have heard by
now if Harry and Ginny were nearby.
Luckily, Hermione was mistaken.
Or unluckily, since Hermione suddenly found herself intruding on a rather
private encounter between two of her best friends, who had sought out the
seclusion of the downhill slopes the grounds near the lake provided to have a
few moments to themselves.

Hermione�s eyes widened when she
caught sight of Harry and Ginny snogging as if their life depended on it. She had seen them kiss before, but their
kisses had always been relatively chaste.
There was nothing chaste about anything they were doing now. Harry was lying on top of Ginny, her
legs wrapped around his waist and her shirt unbuttoned, her bra-clad breasts
exposed. It was odd and somewhat
unsettling to see two of her best friends in such an intimate position, yet
Hermione couldn�t bring herself to tare her gaze away. She knew she should back away, but
instead she sought out a nearby bush and crouched behind it. Hermione craned her neck so she could
see, yet was still relatively hid from their view; not that they�d probably even
notice her if she�d be standing right next to them, since they were somewhat
preoccupied with other things.

As Hermione saw Harry suckling on
the tender spots of Ginny�s neck, she noticed that he seemed so careless and
free, more than he�d been in years; it was amazing to see him like this. She was so happy for him, realising that
her best friend had finally found some happiness in his life. If anyone deserved some joy, even if it
were only to balance out the wretchedness in his past and present, it certainly
was Harry. Ginny was biting her lip
to stifle the noises she made and Hermione thought she looked more alive and
aflame than ever, like this was the place she�d always longed to be, in Harry�s
arms, which it probably was. The
sight took Hermione�s breath away.

She saw Ginny whispering something
in Harry�s ear, but couldn�t make out what it was. Hermione gasped when Ginny�s hand
reached down to cover Harry�s, only then having noticed that his had been under
her skirt, in-between Ginny�s legs.
She saw Ginny rearranging some things while Harry was looking intently at
her alterations. Hermione briefly
felt mortified in Harry�s stead, but she quickly noticed that he didn�t seem to
be troubled with his girlfriend being so open about what it was she wanted from
him. When Ginny let go of his hand
and Hermione saw the muscles in Harry�s arm flexing, indicating that he was
moving his fingers, Ginny arched her back and sighed contently. Harry smiled, while at the same time
Hermione blushed fiercely.

Hermione saw Ginny�s fingers eagerly
working to open Harry�s shirt.
Eventually she gave up the difficult task and simply pulled it up as far
as it could go. Hermione stifled a
whimper when Ginny�s hands clutched Harry�s back and pressed his body against
hers, almost able to feel Ginny�s relief of finally having Harry�s hot, naked
skin against hers. Hermione felt
warm wetness in-between the juncture of her thighs and rubbed her legs together
in an attempt to relieve some of her ache.
It didn�t work. She reckoned
she shouldn�t find the sight of her two friends making love this arousing, but
she did.

Hermione�s jaw dropped when Ginny�s
body suddenly stiffened and a raw cry escaped her throat. It wasn�t a girly shriek or a breathless
scream, but a deep primal roar that made Hermione�s heart skip a beat.

Ginny had barely given herself time
to come down from her orgasm when she peeled her knickers off her legs. Before Hermione had time to entirely
follow what was going on, Harry�s pants were around his ankles, his naked bum
unprotected from the elements, and he was pushing himself inside of Ginny. They moaned together as he started
thrusting and Hermione couldn�t do anything but watch in awe as her knickers
gradually turned into a slippery slide.
It didn�t take more than ten plunges or so before Harry stiffened and
released himself inside of Ginny.

Hermione watched as Ginny
affectionately ran her fingers through Harry�s hair. Harry smiled and kissed her
lovingly. Hermione kept on watching
as they disentangled from each other and went to properly arrange their clothes
while occasionally stopping to exchange adoring kisses. She watched until the two lovers
entwined hands and fingers and walked back to the castle. That was when Hermione stopped looking
and let the tears gush over her cheeks as she sobbed. Her hand covered her face in shame at
the thought that she was crying over this, which made her feel even more
sorry for herself.

What she had seen between Harry and
Ginny was sloppy and inexperienced, but it was beautiful and above all,
real. Until a few minutes
ago, Hermione hadn�t realised how lonely she felt. She didn�t want a boyfriend as such, she
didn�t need someone to hold hands with all day or to snog in-between classes,
but she did want physical comfort.
She wanted a lover. Was it
that difficult to find someone who would touch her in places where no one has
touched her before, whom she in turn could explore with her hands and lips, whom
she could trust with her wickedest fantasies, darkest secrets and biggest
worries? Someone with whom she
could be herself with and not just show the sugar-coated version everyone else
got to see?

After the initial discomfort on her
first try, Hermione hadn�t discarded the idea of experimenting with the vibrator
she got from Ginny. She had learned
that a vibrator really had its perks, for one giving her the freedom to use her
hands elsewhere and giving her the illusion she was sleeping with someone
else. Hermione knew it wasn�t the
same, though. Sexually she was
satisfied, psychologically she wasn�t.
She didn�t just want sexual release, she wanted to he held.

Hermione also desperately wanted to
kiss someone. Not just the sweet,
PG-13 kiss she had shared with Victor, but a hot, steamy battle of lips and
tongues and moans and gropes; the kind of kiss that could make one see
stars. She wanted passion. She wanted to feel what it was like to
feel the weight of a man on top of her, his naked torso against her chest. She wanted to see a man give her the
look Harry had given Ginny, the one right before he had entered her, the look
that said, �I�m sorry, but I can�t control myself any longer, I need to have you
now.�

Hermione was genuinely sobbing
now. No one would look at her like
that. Ron didn�t, even though he
had broken up with Lavender.
Hermione had noticed him making googly-eyes at her when he thought she
wasn�t looking and, even though she was glad about that, she did fancy him after
all, she was also more than a little annoyed. He had had his physical fling with
Lavender, but broke it off with her because she didn�t stimulate him
mentally. The most logical thing to
do afterwards would be to go for the intellectually stimulating best friend who
also happened to be a girl, someone whom was fun to talk to and was
safe. That�s all well and
dandy, but Hermione didn�t want to be the �steady girlfriend� right now;
she wanted to be the girl he lusted after!

Who was she kidding? Of course Harry looked that way at
Ginny; Ginny was gorgeous. Hermione
didn�t have Ginny�s red hair, the kind of colour that made her stand out because
it seemed to absorb and reflect all light, nor did she have her perfect pale
skin, covered with her trademark freckles that made her both appear naughty and
cute, nor did she have her slender frame or her small, but perky breasts. Hermione wasn�t unattractive or unkempt,
but she wasn�t the kind of girl that would make a boy salivate as she passed
by.

The only person who had ever looked
at her with lust in his eyes had been Malfoy, and he wasn�t even real.

Or was he?

Hermione wiped her tears at her
sleeve and took a few calming breaths.
Malfoy had started looking differently at her ever since he had started
using the Daydream Charms. The way
he looked at her she had found bothersome, because she couldn�t control the
thoughts he had about her. Hermione
wondered why it should bother her so much, though. Was that not what she craved for, that
someone looked at her with want in his eyes? But was it want that was in
Malfoy�s eyes, or amusement? When
he thought about the Daydreams, did he see a girl that he found attractive, or a
girl of whom he thought was trying to be attractive but didn�t succeed?

Hermione groaned loudly. Sometimes she wished she could turn a
switch that would silence the thoughts in her head. At times she wished she could spend some
time in someone else�s head, not out of curiosity of what this other person was
thinking, but simply because she was sick and tired of having to listen to
herself.

Hermione sighed when she felt it
starting to rain. She had no use
for being wet and chilled to the bone because she had been crying in the pouring
rain. Hermione slowly started
heading back towards the castle, reckoning that last thing she needed right now
was to find herself turning into a clich�.

*

Hermione had only just reached the
top of the first flight of stairs, which lead up to the main hall, when she
heard an all too familiar voice behind her.


�Hey Granger! Has
anyone ever told you that you are at your best when walking away? Having your questionable company
replaced with the sight of your perky little bum jiggling as you toddle off is
truly a pleasure to all.�


�Leave me alone, Malfoy,� Hermione said hoarsely, her voice a bit sore
from her recent crying fit.


�Granger, are you crying?� Malfoy asked, hurrying to catch up with
her.


�No, go away.�


�Granger-�


�Yes, Malfoy, I have been crying!� Hermione yelled. �You probably wouldn�t know this, but
this tends to occur when someone has been emotional. So now that you�ve been assured there is
no strange disease going around that makes people�s eyes start to melt, go way!�


�Need a tissue?� Malfoy asked, waving a little piece of flannel in front
of Hermione�s face. It seemed like
a normal, almost friendly enquiry, if it weren�t for the sarcastic tone in his
voice.

�What
is it that you�re trying to accomplish by harassing me like this?� Hermione spat
angrily, halting in her tracks.

�Who
says I�m trying to accomplish anything?� Draco answered fake-innocently.
�Someone has been drawing forward conclusions, hasn�t she? My, my Granger, if I didn�t know any
better I�d say you quite like my attention.�

�Don�t you twist my words! I hate it when people twist my
words!� Hermione reproached furiously.
�Don�t you play me, Malfoy! If you want entertainment then just go
and use another sodding Daydream Charm; just leave me alone!�

Draco didn�t try to follow Granger
when she marched off again and was only able to wonder about what had gotten her
in such a mood. A frown spread
across his face as he watched her leave.
It had always appeared like everything and everyone revolved around him;
like his life was a non-stop theatre performance, with actors and extras running
on and off stage, only serving to be flashes and side-stories in the life of
Draco Malfoy. Other people had
always seemed so bland and one-dimensional that Draco had formed the theory that
everyone he met were just pawns revolving around his life; that they weren�t
real.

Considering how many people had been
born and had died since the beginning of time and how many were currently
populating the planet, it seemed not only unlikely, but impossible that the
universe could create that many individuals. The idea itself was mind-boggling. There simply wasn�t room enough for
everyone to be a totally individual sentient being with thoughts, feelings and
opinions alike Draco himself. It
seemed much more plausible that Draco was the centre and everything else was
created to serve his story.

But what if the universe didn�t work
in a plausible manner? What if
every person had a leading role in his or her own theatre production; that there
were no extras, just leads and sets intermingling? It seemed crazy, but now Draco was left
to wonder if Granger was real. She
didn�t seem one-dimensional.
Was she real? Was everyone
real? Didn�t everything revolve
around him?

These were all valid questions
indeed, but Draco�s Knut had just dropped on a whole other matter, which made an
additional, much more pressing, question burst to the surface of his mind.

Why had Granger just suggested he
should use another Daydream Charm?

********

End of
Chapter 8

A/N: Was I
the only one whose dirty mind had drawn some forward conclusions (or not?) at
the �particularly happy hour Harry had spent down the lake with Ginny at
lunch-time�? (HBP. Page 501 (UK version))
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Patented Daydream Charms