WARNING: This is definitely somewhat slashy. (Err, like everything else I've ever written.) Heh heh. HP/DM.


Draco Malfoy and the Recurring Dream Sequence

By Katanes Dreamer


The Great Hall was resplendent. The enchanted ceiling reflected a smattering of twinkling blue and white stars against a velvet night sky.

Hundreds of floating candles illuminated the space between the long tables, creating a warm glow all around.

Draco Malfoy was in his usual seat, surrounded by his friends, with a smug smile on his face.

Because high above the Great Hall shimmered green and silver flags.

Slytherin colours.

They had won the House Cup with 427 points.

A pool of warmth and unequivocal happiness was filling Draco as he looked at the familiar faces surrounding him.

All his friends.

Pure-blooded and superior in both breed and dignity.

A few seats down from the table, Marcus Flint caught his eye and nodded with a sneer (or was that a smile?).

An acknowledgement that they had made it. The victorious Quidditch match last week had given them the edge that they needed to overtake Ravenclaw in the running for the most points.

Draco felt a swell of pride wash over him to remember that he was an integral part of that team.

Next to him, Goyle bumped his shoulder and grinned. The shove almost knocked him off his seat but he was in such a good mood that he just grinned back at his old friend.

This was where he belonged. They were his kin.

And now they had proved to the whole school that they were the best. They were the cream of the crop.

His father would be pleased, he thought suddenly. He wondered what he should ask for as a reward. A new broom, maybe?

At the thought of his father, he automatically looked towards his mentor and teacher, who also happened to be the best Potions master this side of Britain.

Severus Snape was seated at the Head table with the other Hogwarts professors and the headmaster.

And at that moment, he had on a slight smile and was leant against the high back of his chair contentedly, a wistful look in his ebony eyes.

Draco grinned at the rare sight.

If anyone deserved this honour, it was Snape.

As far as Draco was concerned, Snape was the only worthwhile professor in the whole school. And although he knew that his House Head coveted the Defense against the Dark Arts position most of all, Draco often thought that it would be better if he set his sights a little higher.

Like headmaster, perhaps.

Speaking of whom, the old fool was clearing his throat and seemed about to speak, finally.

Draco sat up expectantly. This was the moment that they had been waiting for. They were going to be awarded with the House Cup trophy.

McGonogall clinked on her wine goblet with a fork.

"Your attention, please." She said loudly.

"Thank you, Minerva. Yes, the time has come for the presentation of this year's House Cup. As you all know by now, Slytherin House currently leads the way with 427 points." A loud burst of applause met with that announcement.

In his seat, Draco was almost hugging himself with happiness.

"Ravenclaw trails closely with 420 points." Another burst of applause.

"Hufflepuff has 350 points." A smattering of applause at this.

"And Gryffindor has 103 points." A more muted round of applause met with this announcement as a few Gryffindors were shaking their heads in shame.

Draco grinned and stared at the losing table.

More specifically, at the trio of idiots.

They were sitting slumped on their seats and looked about as dejected as they deserved.

Draco gloated openly at the pathetic sight.

That's what you get for breaking school rules and going out gallivanting in the Dark Forest at night, he thought gleefully.

"But, certain recent events has also got to be taken into consideration." Dumbledore continued, as the clapping subsided.

What? Draco thought. What's he on about?

"And so, for the most amount of homework turned in by a single student in a century, I award Miss Hermione Granger fifty points."

The Gryffindor table exploded in cheers and applause. The Granger girl flushed pink with happiness at this.

Draco sneered.

So bloody what? They were still ahead by a whole lot.

"Special mention also has to go out to another very important achievement. Fifty points to Mr Ronald Weasley for being Harry Potter's best and most dear friend."

What the f-? Draco frowned darkly.

That was ridiculous...

Wasn't it?

He looked around at the stony faces at his table. They were the only ones.

Everyone else was cheering and hooting. The Weasley boy was now as red as his awful hair with all the attention.

Draco gritted his teeth and glared.

Blatant favouritism. Father always said that Dumbledore was the worst thing that ever happened to this school.

But, whatever right? As long as they still won the Hou-

"And last, but most definitely not least," Dumbledore chuckled.

"For being able to tie his shoelaces with one hand the other day, I award Harry Potter - 225 points!"

Across the hall, Draco's jaw dropped open.

"And if my calculations are correct, the winner of the House Cup this year goes to GRYFFINDOR!"

The green and silver flags unfurled magically to become red and gold.

It was instant pandemonium at the Gryffindor table.

They all jumped up and started cheering and stamping their feet loudly.

Two male students hoisted up the dark haired boy on their shoulders.

Harry raised a hand victoriously into the air and smiled widely at the adoring crowd at his feet.

And Draco woke up in his bed screaming.



He spat.

It happened again. He looked at his image in the mirror reproachfully.

He brushed hard. Spit.

Twelve nights in a row.

He shook his head in frustration.


Gargle. Spit.

He paused and glared at his reflection.

Something has to be done.


Draco was lying on his bed, stomach down, and elbows propped up for support. The book he had borrowed from the library was lying before him.

Running a slim finger across the dusty cover for a moment, he read the embossed title again.

'The Giant Book of Dreams'

Dreams, huh? He scoffed. Nightmares, more like it...

Flip, flip, flip.

'Why we dream'. Nope.

'Astral projections'. Nope. 'Symbols in dreams'. Nope.

'Recurring dreams'. Hmm... Worth a look, that was.


"Recurring dreams usually indicate the changing process of your psychological growth. It represents a change of ideas, feelings, thoughts - "

Ugh. Skip paragraph.

"Think about what your recurring dream could relate to, come to terms with it, and -"

Boring. He sighed.

I need to talk to an expert, he muttered under his breath.

No sooner than the words had come out of his mouth that the book started flipping its pages automatically.

In seconds, Draco was left staring at the inside back cover.

There was a small inscription at the bottom, in pretty cursive lettering.

"Tickle me.", it said.

So he did.

Nothing happened.

He rubbed the words again.


He sighed. Bloody hell.

He slammed the thick book shut in frustration and started to turn over to lie on his back.

"Hello there!" a voice boomed from the corner.

Startled, Draco fell off his bed.


Ouch. Cursing softly, he sat up on his sore bottom.

And looked towards the source of his tumble.

A short little wizard was seated in the plush green armchair in the corner of his bedroom.

At first glance, Draco thought it was a boy, but his face was that of middle aged man.

Just a very short one.

"Who are you and what the f- " Draco started angrily.

The man tut-tutted and waved a finger reproachfully at him.

"Language, my lad. Must watch the language." He clasped his small hands on his lap and sat back in the chair, his short legs swinging slightly above the floor.

"Now, as you recall, you asked for an expert?"

Draco blinked a few times. He slowly clambered back up on his bed and nodded cautiously.

"Well, that's me. I'm the author of that particular book you have before you. You might also remember me from other titles such as 'The Giant Book of Memories' and 'The Giant Book of Visions'."

"Not really." Draco drawled slowly.

He was about to make a comment about how such a diminutive man could write a Giant anything, before he checked himself.

This short wizard could help him and it wouldn't be good manners (or wise) to piss him off.

" I mean I've heard of them but I haven't had the time to read them, that is. What with school work and all." he lied.

The wizard nodded understandingly.

"Of course, of course. Now if you don't mind, I usually like to get the business part of the transaction out of the way first."


"My payment, boy."

"You want me to pay you?"

"Well this isn't a free service, you know."

Draco scowled. Great.

"How much, then?"

"Three sickles per visit."

He was going to get Potter for this. He didn't know how, but this was entirely his fault.

"Fine." Draco stuck a hand into his robes and pulled out three coins before tossing it to the wizard.

"Thank you." The wizard pocketed the coins with a small smile. "Do you need a receipt?"

"No, thank you. Can we get started now?"

"Oh, of course. Now, what can I do for you?"


Draco sniffed experimentally at the water in his glass. It smelt of nothing.

Before the wizard had left, he had tapped the glass of water on Draco's bedside table with the tip of is wand and muttered a few words under his breath.

He then told Draco to drink from the glass before going to bed that night.

Supposedly it would turn the events of Draco's recurring dream to something infinitely more pleasant.

Draco swirled the water around for a few seconds and peered into it.

There was neither a change in colour nor any visible residue.

For a brief moment he wondered if he had gotten swindled out of his money.

Well, it's too late now.

With a frown, he downed the entire contents of the glass in one gulp.

Oddly enough, the water was sweet, with an almost fruity tang.

Draco set down the empty glass and got ready for bed.


The Great Hall was resplendent. The enchanted ceiling reflected a smattering of twinkling blue and white stars against a velvet night sky.

Hundreds of floating candles illuminated the space between the long tables, creating a warm glow all around.

Draco Malfoy was in his usual seat, surrounded by his friends, with a smug smile on his face.

Because high above the Great Hall shimmered green and silver flags.

Slytherin colours.

They had won the House Cup with 427 points.

A pool of warmth and unequivocal happiness was filling Draco as he looked at the familiar faces surrounding him.

Hang on.

Someone was tapping him on the shoulder.

Draco turned around to face Harry Potter.

"What do you want, Potter? Came to congratulate us, did you?" he smirked.

A few Slytherins tittered in the background.


Draco snorted and looked at Harry. It was strangely disconcerting the way the boy was staring expressionless at him.

Suddenly Draco felt an urge to stand up. He didn't like the way Potter was towering over him like that. When did he get so tall, anyway?

"Well?" Draco demanded.

Harry remained silent and bit his lip, as if considering his next move.

Now Draco was getting nervous.

Surely Potter can't be all that stupid as to punch him in front of the entire school and faculty?

Suddenly Potter reached out and grabbed the front of his robes with both hands, pulling him from his seat.

"Eep." Draco heard himself squeak, and knew he must have looked as terrified as he felt.

This was wrong. It wasn't supposed to go like this, he thought in a panic.

No sooner than Potter had him firmly in his grasp, was he thrown backwards roughly onto the Slytherin table.

"Shut up, Malfoy."

And then, Harry Potter proceeded to ravish Draco on the table with an abandon only found in cheesy Muggle romance novels.

(Not that Draco would know that. He would never read such garbage. Or admit to it.)

After much gratuitous snogging in front of the entire school and faculty, Draco felt inclined to say something sweet.

"Repress much?" he panted.

"Shut it, Malfoy." replied the voice next to him breathlessly.

Draco smirked.

"Oh by the way, I came over to tell you that I finished the Daily Prophet Sunday crosswords the other day." Harry said and wiped at his mouth with his robe sleeve, "By myself."

Draco snorted.

"So bloody what, Potter? I didn't need to know that ridiculous piece of useless information." he mumbled and tried rearranging his clothes to some semblance of decency.

At the same time he wondered if snogging someone meant that he should also start pretending to be interested in that person's life.

"You know why." Potter shook his head in amusement and leant over to kiss him on his forehead sweetly.

"Gryffindor won, silly." He breathed out before covering Draco's mouth with his own and slipping his tongue inside.

Underneath him, Draco's eyes widened in horror.

The green and silver flags above them were unfurling magically to become red and gold.

Harry Potter's hands were slipping beneath his robes again.

And Draco woke up in his bed screaming.


A/N: Tbc, I think. Review please. (please please please)

Okay, that was just sad.