A/N: Hey guys! So this is basically about Draco who's having a nightmare, and Astoria comforts him. Originally I planned it to focus more on them, but it didn't exactly work out that way. Im quite happy with how it turned out :) I never actually intended to put in so much dialogue, and all that with Voldemort, and im also not sure if I managed to pull it off. So Review and tell me what you think?

Well, you know the drill. Read, Enjoy and hopefully Review?

Disclaimer : I do not own any part of Harry Potter. Not even a single bit. [sad, I know :( ]

His Treasure, His Reality

Draco was in a dark room; there was a certain air about the place. It smelt like – like the end. Velvet curtains coloured in a deep fuchsia of some sort gave way into a narrow passage way, dimly lit yet, still black. It was almost as if the ground was falling down. He looked down at the ground, surprised to find his feet naked and exposed to the cold hardness of the gloomy terracotta tiles. A wave of electricity passed through them, and Draco felt tiny speka's of goose bumps line his skin. It only made him more nervous.

Deep into his thoughts, he was preparing himself for what he was about to face, or rather who; but he was interrupted by a sharp, powerful noise. His hand darted to his cloak, in search of his wand, except there was nothing there. The noise was getting louder... and closer... How was that possible? And then he saw it – the walls were closing in on him! He was trapped.

There was only one other alternative, one other hope of survival and even that wasn't guaranteed. He had no choice. And so he leaped across the few centimetres of room and into the passageway, from which he could hear a man's inane chatter, desperate and begging for forgiveness and... Hissing.

It's him. It's the Dark Lord. Oh no, he had to get out of here, he just had to. Draco squeezed his eyes shut, and muttered a spell he saw Snape performing once. He felt a small sliver of wood press against his thigh, and he breathed out in relief. Now how was he going to get out of thi- there was a sudden pull. Something was jerking him forward - He was being pushed into the room. He shut his eyes and felt a whirlpool of regret, helplessness, sorrow, loneliness and fear.

Always fear.

There was a thump as he landed on the floor, still dizzy from his little journey. The room was still spinning, and he was panting, when he heard a cold, murderous voice:

"Welcome, Draco, to my humble abode! Please, make yourself at home... Oh hold on, it IS your home!" Voldemort laughed a deep, cackling laugh.

Draco looked around confused. Within seconds, recognition clicked in. They were in the basement. The basement, he was always forbidden from. Lucuis Malfoy wasn't scared of teaching his son a lesson when he did 'bad things' and Draco nodded his head mutely when he was warned to not wander down there. Once again, Draco nodded quietly, still concentrating down on the floor.

"You'll have to forgive me, Draco, but i sensed your ... How do i put it? Ahhh yes, your hesitation, your fear..." he trailed off, a smile playing on his lips. "I just wanted to make sure that you are indeed aware of your situation, aren't you Draco? It's really such a pity... I wondered whether you'd be able to do it. Bella was convinced you would. She rambled on praising you, not stopping for a second, and your father glared at her all through." He paused to laugh here, and after a pensive moment, he continued. "Your father seemed sure, but there was something in his eyes – he was hiding something, Draco. Do you know what he was hiding?" Draco felt his soul being penetrated through, and his memories being thrown apart.

He shook his head. He felt his stomach churn up last night's pumpkin pie, and he was so sure his thunderous heart beat could be heard by all.

Voldemort scoffed. "I don't know what surprises me more. The fact that Bella was under the impression you are indeed, evil, or that your father tried to protect you to the best of his abilities."

Draco's head shot up, and he looked at Voldemort's pale oval face. His nostrils flared, and his mouth was set in a smirk. A cold, vicious smirk. His eyes were of a black colour. They were so dark; Draco concluded they were indeed black. There was nothing else to it. Black, for the pain, the evil, the torture, the underworld, the dark arts. Black for Voldemort. He felt a stab of pain in his chest, just missing his heart. He looked away from the pools of darkness, and uttered quietly, "I don't understand,"

"Well of course you wouldn't, you might be one of the stupidest people I've ever met. Wormtail, you may want to keep an eye out. Looks like you've got yourself some competition from Draco Malfoy!' he declared, scorning at the fact that his latest victim happened to be related to two of his devoted followers. Life really was'nt fair sometimes... Still, he was clearly enjoying himself.

"You, Draco, are so incompetent, it's a wonder you are indeed the nephew of Bellatrix Lestrange and the son of Lucius Malfoy. Then again you may have gone on your mother's side of the family: Andromeda, Sirius, Nymphadora," he sneered at the sound of their names. Treachery was one of his main weakness' he despised it to the core, and hated them with a passion, making inflicting pain on them one of his main goals in life. That's all Voldemort ever did, hurt others, and with this thought, Draco knew, he was next in line.

"You are pathetic, and puny. Definitely not at all worth my time. Infact, killing you would be a complete insult towards my power. But all the same, i must. You see, your father loves your mother very much. And you as well; you didn't know that did you?" He paused to see the boy's reaction. Just as he predicted, he managed to shake his head, with a great deal of pain and effort.

"Yes, your father tried to protect you." He carried on. "When he took the Dark Mark upon his arm, he knew he could never walk away. You were an accident Draco. But Narcissa wouldn't hear of giving you up. So she gave your father an ultimatum: You give up this child - you give up me, forever and ever. And that, was something your father couldn't do. From the moment he held you, to the moment he had to give you this task; he has tried to protect you in the only way possible. Showing you the utmost hatred, he possibly could.

To strengthen you up; So that you wouldn't become weak ... So that you wouldn't become like him.

Draco concentrated hard on Voldemort's silvery, smooth voice, fighting back the tears that were dying to escape.

"Anyhow Draco, stand up, please. Let's get this over with, shall we? I have more pressing matters to deal with... like telling your father and aunt, i killed your mother. And you of course " He added the latter after a second, and laughed his evil laugh, echoing through the room.

Draco gripped his wand in his tensed fist, and said through clenched teeth, "No, take me. Leave her alone, please." He pleaded. It was all he could do now. It was all he could do. Draco was completely helpless, and they were going to kill his mother … the thought was too much to bear. There must be something he could do? But what? All to soon, he was interrupted in his desperate thoughts.

"Tsk tsk Draco," he laughed again, sending frequency waves around the floor. Draco was really getting tired of his laugh.

"You really are stupid! You think you can kill me? You can't even kill that bearded fool Dumbledore; Yet you have the audacity to think that YOU will kill ME? Do you know who i am?" Voldemort was angry now. His eyes ablazed like fire, seeming bigger, and more inhumane.

"Dumbledore is a good man." Draco stated, carefully avoiding Voldemort's questions.

"And I'm the bad man Draco. Now I'll give you another chance. Only because you are underage." He pronounced choosing his words carefully, almost as if he was doing Draco a favour. "You will kill Dumbledore, or you and your mother will die!" He screamed out, and Peter recoiled shielding his ears with a pained, scrunched up expression.

"I can't, I'm sorry. Please, please don't do this, please..." He was begging now. He had come to begging. Begging. At that right moment, nothing seemed important. Not those silly people in his house, not those stupid teachers, not his blood status, and definitely not his father.

"No Draco, I'm sorry, but i must... don't you think Nagiini?" the striped reptilian hissed loudly, and Voldemort started to laugh. He was soon joined by Pettigrew. The sound was disgustingly atrocious.

This was the end. He was going to die thoughts, memories at Hogwarts, his parents, and friends filled his mind. Now he didn't stop the tears from falling, and as he felt his heart bet for the last time, he awaited for the death curse. He waited for his death.

Voldemort drew up his wand; his eyes had never seemed brighter than now, this moment. He smiled, yet again, except this time, showing off his white canines, and exposing his sharp cheek bones. He was like a doll gone wrong, and the thought almost made Draco feel better. Almost. His mouth opened, and Draco breathed out one last time. He shut the world of vision out and coiled up, his ears pushing out to hear those 2 words.


Draco woke up. His clothes were sticking to his wet, tired body and the sheets were twisted and knotted around his waist. Before he knew it, he was crying. His whole body was shaking, and his face was as wet as newly washed clothes.

Reaching out, he cried "Astoria? Astoria!"

"Draco? What happened?" She was still puffy with sleep, and her hair was evidence alone. One look at his appearance, she hugged him tight and whispered sweet, condescending things to him, rubbing his back simultaneously.

"It's okay babe,It's not real.. It was just a dream. Just a dream, I promise. It didn't happen ok? It didn't happen. He's gone, Vol- i mean he's gone." She bit her tongue and cursed mentally for almost saying his name, Draco couldn't take it. She tried so hard to keep her act together, yet her heart ached for him. She wanted to end his pain. She just didn't know how. Looking at him, weak and helpless, her mind drifted to the day she'd encountered Draco crying in some alleyway or the other in Diagon Alley. She felt so bad for him, and they'd been friends when they were kids, so she rushed to comfort him. They hadn't been away from each other since then.

He interrupted her thoughts with a quiet, hoarse "I'm sorry."

Neither of them had slept much in the past week. His nightmares had started acting up again, and left him weak, and drained and so, so fragile.

"Look at me," she commanded softly. He did so. Her lips met his. It was small and chaste; just enough to leave her lips tingling from the touch of his. She kissed his tears away, and smoothed down his hair. "This is real. We are real – me and you. I don't care what you did before, because that's not you. I know you, the real Draco. And Merlin knows i love him! Im not going anywhere. Looks like you're stuck with me Malfoy!" She grinned, boasting off 2 dimples.

He all but pulled her against him and held her. They stayed like that for a long time, until he realised she'd drifted off to sleep. What did he ever do to deserve her, he wondered? She was always there for him, promising him life, happiness, a new start, and love. She was his life. It had been 5 years since the war. Although hard at first, there was only one thing that kept him going – Astoria. He still got nightmares now and then. And he'd long since given up on getting Astoria to leave him. She'd stuck with him through his depression, his hyperness, his anger and all his madness.

Looking down at her sleeping, peaceful body, he was suddenly hit by a wave of affection for her. Shifting his body around, Draco slowly drifted to sleep, all the while cradling Astoria, like a piece of treasure.

Yet, that was exactly it. She was a treasure. His treasure.

A/N: Well What dya think? Good? Bad? Tell you what, click on that little button down there and tell me all about it :)