DISCLAIMER: I own nothing, never will. No lawsuits.
WARNING: So... I offer no excuses. In fact, I should be working on Chap 14 of my other story, but... my muse is a crack monkey!
All alone in her room, sprawled across her bed, shoulders shaking and face buried in her pillow, the epitome of despair and indignation, Hermione Granger wept.
She cried because of the cruel words Draco Malfoy sneered at her in the hallways, bawled because of the way those words hurt Harry and made him jump to defend both her and himself for befriending her; however odd and disjointed that notion may very well be. She positively howled that even though Ron Weasley muttered the correct platitudes, he along with most of the school secretly believed that she truly was an insipid little know-it-all. But, the real reason she locked herself in her room away from everyone, was because she couldn't stomach the shame that she allowed people to get away with their words.
Back in third year, Professor Lupin had called her the brightest witch of her generation. She didn't feel like it though. Sure, she read everything she could get her hands on; delighting in the fact that she was expanding and improving her world through knowledge. After all, how many times had she helped Harry whenever he set off of any of his crackpot, inevitably life or death situations? Knowledge was power, she firmly believed, and power was necessary for control. But wouldn't, shouldn't, the smartest witch stand up for herself against bullies and idiots that berated her at every turn? Even back in third year, when she felt so strong and proud, she had only slapped Draco because he took such delight with messing with Harry's mind.
Messing with Harry's mind….
Sitting up abruptly, wiping her face irritably, Hermione quickly composed herself and flew to the library. Two hours later she let out a slightly possessed sounding giggle as the plan correlated. She hummed to herself as she charmed the book and muttered the correct spells. She paused, tapping her quill thoughtfully against her lips as she thought how to best formulate her revenge. She needed to be subtle, needed to accomplish this in such a way that no one would immediately presume she was responsible. If there was one thing being Harry's friend over the years had taught her, it was how to be innocently conspicuous.
She grinned, well pleased with herself, and tapped the book with her wand. "Trauminvasion."
Now to wait for nightfall…
Ron Weasley scowled to himself as he got ready for bed. Malfoy, that fucking ferret, had to go and prove what an utter bastard he was by taunting Hermione about her intelligence again. I mean, sure, everyone knew that she was obsessed… and kinda annoyingly a perfectionist… maybe even what Harry called "obsessive compulsive," whatever that meant… but her heart was in the right place. She was a damn good mate and didn't deserve to spend the afternoon crying with her feelings hurt. He scowled, nodding to himself. He would just have to get Harry to pick a fight with the blond git tomorrow. Harry would put Malfoy in his place.
He yawned, stretching his back, before climbing into bed. "Night, Harry. Night, guys."
He closed his curtains, rolled onto his back, and fell asleep faster than he thought possible. A bright light made him scowl, and he squinted his eyes open slightly, ready to yell at his roommates; only to widen them as he took in his surroundings. He was in a room, kneeling naked on the floor, hands tied behind his back and connected to the black leather tying his feet together. He looked around frantically, heart pumping blood through his body at an alarming rate, and tried to scream. It was then he became aware of three very important details. First, there was a gag in his mouth, preventing him from screaming or uttering any noise than a whimper or grunt. Second, Luna Lovegood was standing in front of him with a vaguely perplexed look on her face. Finally, Ron issued a muffled squeal when he noticed she was holding a whip in her hands; swishing it lazily about from side to side.
The sound of distress drew her attention to him. She blinked. "Hello Ron," Luna said dreamily. She tilted her head to the side, as though listening to silent instructions. "Someone wants me to punish you, but who…." Her expression cleared, replaced by a smirk. Ron shivered involuntarily. Luna smirking was oddly enough as frightening as those acromantula's him and Harry had stumbled across in their second year. "We're in a book," the girl announced. Large protuberant eyes studied him silently for a minute. "Although you've never seemed the kind of person who enjoys role playing… actually, sometimes I wonder if you even enjoy reality." Ron desperately wanted to comment on how weird that sounded coming from her of all people, but only managed to topple over onto his side as he pulled against his restraints. Luna shrugged, cracking the whip with an easy, practiced flick of her wrist. Ron's blue eyes widened almost painfully.
In his sleep, Ron's body jerked, tightened, and spasmed, before a great shudder ripped through him. He whimpered and rolled onto his stomach. In his own bed, Harry Potter thrashed slightly back and forth, face marred up in a frown. "You want me to call you what?" he muttered to himself.
Harry blinked, looking around curiously at his surroundings. He was in a forest. A pretty forest with shiny leaves. He looked down, surprised to find himself wearing an all black outfit, before looking towards his left; searching for the origin of that too familiar drawl. His eyes narrowed involuntarily, only to widen in shock. "Malfoy?" he questioned stupidly.
Draco frowned, striding into the clearing. Only he didn't look like himself… his hair was long, hanging halfway down his back, gliding silkily past his aristocratic features and pointy ears. Pointy ears?
"Malfoy, why do you have pointy ears?"
Gray eyes narrowed into a heated glare. "Potter," he said contemptuously, "only you would focus on stupid and nonsensical questions." Harry flushed. Draco smirked, satisfied, one hand casually rising to finger his ear. "Where the bloody hell are we?" He glared at Harry. "And why are you here?" Draco's glare turned positively murderous. "Potter, I swear to god if you are indulging your idiotic need to save people, I will…" He broke off, gagging.
"You ok, Malfoy?" Harry asked warily, taking a hesitant step forward.
"No I am not ok," Malfoy hissed, rubbing his throat. "For some reason I cannot insult you." He looked like a beloved pet had just died. "And I have this asinine urge to refer to myself as Legolas."
Harry blinked again. "You want me to call you what?"
"I want you to call me nothing! I don't want you to be here!" Draco glared at Harry again. "Why are you here anyway, Strider?"
If Harry kept blinking like this he was sure to hurt himself. "What did you call me?"
Draco flushed. "I have no idea," he bit out through gritted teeth. "What the fuck are you doing to me, Potter?"
Harry sighed, looking around. "I'm not doing anything, Malfoy. Last thing I remember was going to bed, and now…" he shrugged, gesturing to his surroundings. "At least this is a far more pleasant dream than I usually have." Draco arched an eyebrow, smirking. Harry flushed. "Well, except having you here, anyways," he muttered.
"Sure, Potter," he drawled smoothly. "You probably dream about me frequently, don't you?" Harry flushed, clenching his jaw shut to refrain from responding. Gray eyes gleamed maliciously. "That's the only way you'll ever best me, isn't it, Potter? In your dreams?"
Harry launched himself at Draco, satisfied when his fist connected with the other boys jaw. Within minutes, the boys were wrestling together on the ground. Grunting and swearing and punching ever piece of each other they could get their hand on, until, at last, Draco pinned Harry to the forest floor and sat on him. "See Potter," he gasped out, flipping his hair out of his face impatiently. "Can't even best me in your dreams."
"Right," Harry said grimly. They stared at each other; breathing heavily and sweating. A strand of Draco's hair brushed across Harry's cheek, and he leaned into the sensation without though. God, who knew hair could feel like that against skin?
An odd gleam appeared in Draco's eyes. "Malfoy?" Harry questioned warily; blaming the hitch in his voice on the fact that Malfoy was sitting on his waist. On the fact that if Malfoy shifted his hips just the tiniest fraction their groins would press… ahh.. just like that. Draco's eyes flickered to Harry's mouth. "Malfoy, what are you thinking?"
"Nothing," Draco said absently. "I just have the strongest urge to…" He leaned down slightly, tracing the outline of Harry's mouth with his tongue. Harry's breath hitched again. Draco sat up, looking flustered. "I don't know why I just…"
Harry cut him off by arcing his hips. And then they were rolling on the ground again, mouths pressed hungrily together, hips thrusting impatiently, hands roving in a much more pleasurable quest over chests and waists and ohgodohgod. "I really like you with pointy ears," Harry whispered, sucking Draco's earlobe into his mouth.
Malfoy made a keening noise of pleasure. "You look really hot in black," he gasped, fisting his hand in Harry's hair and yanking. He ignored Harry's yelp of pain – pleasure? – and bit down harshly on his collar bone. "I've always thought so." He yanked Harry's mouth back down to his, deciding that since this was obviously a delusion he could admit to himself that the leaves and grass in Harry's hair looked sexy rather than sloppy.
Glazed green eyes met gray as they continued writhing against each other on the forest floor. "God I hate you," Harry breathed into Draco's flushed face.
"I hate you more," he whimpered, digging his fingers into Harry's waist hard enough to leave bruises. "You're stupid, and thoughtless, and holy Merlin your mouth." He groaned, dragging said mouth back down to his.
"Well you're arrogant and cruel and," Harry's back arched so far back he dimly worried if he would break a vertebrae or two during this unwanted fantasy. "Holy hell, your hands…"
They stopped talking, mouths too busy to vocalize more than the occasional gasp and muttered swear word. Draco flipped Harry onto his back and ground down… just… there… and with a shout they came and came; riding out the waves of pleasure coursing through their system.
In three different bedrooms, on two different sides of the castle, four people were awake with four different reactions.
Hermione smirked, face flushed, well satisfied as she read the passages appearing in her book while the scenes unfolded. She would definitely need to have a talk with Luna, should Ron need more persuasion… how was it that the girl had known she was being manipulated in a dream? Oh well, Hermione shook her head, giggling to herself. Draco and Harry had needed the barest nudge in the right direction before… resolving their tension. She giggled again, confident that the boys had never read that particular Muggle book. Her flushed deepened as she reread the last two chapters; holy hell she had been smart to mix that particular fantasy with Harry and Draco.
"You ok, Hermione?"
She jumped, closing her book with a resounding snap before looking towards Lavender Brown's bed. She made another mental note to cast a silencing spell before she did this again. Again. The thought made her smile more than a little wicked for a moment. "I'm great, Lavender. Just figured out how to successfully resolve… a puzzle, of sorts." Hermione grinned at her roommate, eyes narrowing when the girl rolled her eyes before lying back down. She shook her head again. Really, it would be far too addicting to cast this spell on too many people.
Draco shot up in bed with a gasp, looking around his room wildly. Had he really just… with Potter… He shifted, glancing in disgust at his sticky pajamas. Oh Merlin; apparently so. He got out bed, glaring at the offending article of clothing. No way was he going back to sleep without washing this mess off of him. Washing away the memory of Potter's mouth, and tongue, and the way the green of the forest made his eyes… Fuck! He grabbed clean clothes and stomped towards the bathroom. This could not be happening. He was a Malfoy! And Potter was… was… was POTTER! He slammed the door to the bathroom behind him as his body stirred again at the memory. He was definitely going to brush his teeth after his cold shower.
Harry arched his back, opening his eyes with one last gasp of pleasure. His stomach muscles were trembling, he realized in shock. And he… his… embarrassed, he grabbed his wand and muttered a hasty cleaning spell. That dream had been so real. He could still taste Draco in his mouth; still hear that low keening noise he made when… Harry whimpered, pressing the heel of his hands over his eyes. What the fuck was the matter with him? This is Malfoy he was talking about! He could not dream about Malfoy like this. Malfoy was… was… was MALFOY for God's sakes!
"You alright mate?"
Harry jumped at the sound of Ron's shaky voice. Dimly, he wondered why Ron sounded so shaken. Hot color flooded his face as he kept his hands pressed firmly over his face. How the hell could he look at his best friend after dreaming… THAT… about MALFOY! "Yeah," his voice sounded rough. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Yeah, I'm all right. You?"
"Umm… yeah. Just… weird dream. You know?"
"Yeah. I know."
"Right, well… night, Harry."
"Yeah, night Ron."
Hermione chattered happily at breakfast the next morning, completely unconcerned as her two best friends kept shooting glances across the room and blushing. She kept up her happy banter all the way to the dungeons, and only stopped when a familiar drawling voice interrupted her nonsensical babbling.
"Well, if it isn't the Golden Trio. All ready to be humiliated this morning, then?"
Hermione beamed at the boy, noticing the way gray eyes kept flickering to her left while a delicate pink color suffused normally pale cheeks. "Good morning, Draco!" she chirped, ignoring everyone's open mouthed shock at her familiarity. "Isn't it a beautiful morning? Can you believe how green the trees look since the rain finally stopped? Looking outside is like looking at a lush forest. Makes me want to almost roll around on the forest floor with… glee." Harry went very still by her side, green eyes dropping as though mesmerized by the pattern on the floor.
She turned to Ron. "Now, now, Ron," she said sternly. "Don't tell me you didn't study for today's test, did you?" She tsked. "Honestly, do you need someone to crack the whip over you to get you to behave better?"
Ron made a strangled noise in his throat, face flushing with heat until his skin was as dark as his hair. He practically ran through the door to his seat, dropping down with out a word; rubbing his writs as though they were chafed. Draco and Harry refused to look at each other, entering the classroom slowly and taking their respective seats without another word. The rest of the class entered cautiously, unnerved by the strange interaction in the corridor. Snape stood by the door, arms crossed over his chest, glaring at the room as he tried to figure out precisely how the dynamics of the class had changed.
And Hermione… Well, Hermione entered the room beaming. She aimed a saucy wink at Snape, smirking as his eyes narrowed in suspicion, and fairly skipped to her seat.
Today was going to be a great day.
So...thoughts? Should I continue? Or should I give my muse more sugar and send him off to LaLa Land?