A/N: 100-word drabble for Writing Challenge #14, "Dreams."
That Kind of Dream
One Sunday morning – afternoon, really – Andromeda wakes up to an empty room. She smiles, sits up, leans against her pillows. She's glad they let her sleep; she was having a wonderful dream.
Andromeda frowns, tries to remember what made her dream wonderful.
She did not dream that
She does not, does not like Ted Tonks. She doesn't think of him in that way, doesn't think of him at all. He's a Mudblood, below her notice.
She should not be dreaming about him, especially not that kind of dream.
Still, it was a nice dream…