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Chapter 13 : My Mind Is On You
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“Can’t you see that I’m trying?” Ron yelled back in fury, as he flew to the Quaffle that landed on the ground, after it flew through one of the hoops he was trying to guard.
“Guys stop yelling,” Ginny exclaimed. “Our game against Slytherin is tomorrow. We can’t keep fighting with each other.”
“Well, maybe if you didn’t drop the Quaffle so much, we could have a chance,” Ron argued, throwing the Quaffle hard toward her.
Ginny caught the Quaffle and angrily flew toward Ron, stopping only a few feet away from him. Ron gulped, seeing his sister’s beet red face, ready to strangle him. “What was that, Ron?”
He shook his head and looked away. “Nothing.” Even though she was his little sister, he was rather afraid of her. He sighed when he saw the rest of his team closing in around them.
“Ginny’s right,” Draco began, as he flew between the siblings. “We have to act like a team right now. We can’t fight with each other.”
Ginny stuck her tongue out at Ron and flew away. Dean Thomas smiled over at Draco and Ron. “You got to love her,” he said, as he followed after her.
“Harry, you need to talk to Coote and Peakes. I can’t tell you how many times I almost got hit with a Bludger,” Demelza Robins sighed.
“Hey, our job is to keep you from getting hit,” Ritchie Coote explained.
“Yeah. You didn’t get hit, did you?” Jimmy Peakes smirked.
Demelza rolled her eyes and flew to the opposite side of the field. Draco shook his head at the two Beaters. “She’s right. The Bludgers should never come anywhere near her.”
The two boys nodded and flew away, leaving Draco and Ron alone. Draco turned toward Ron and sighed. “Ron,” he began.
“Harry, I’m trying. You know how I get when it’s closer to game time. It’s my nerves.”
“Damn it, Weasley. For once could you not make excuses?” he barked.
“Sorry, Harry,” he mumbled, hurt by his best friend’s words. He sadly flew to the goal posts, waiting for the next play to begin.
Draco grunted and flew toward the center of the field, calling the Chasers over. “Let’s try something a little different. I’ve been working on this play for a while now.”
He discussed the new strategy with the three Chasers. After they learned the new move, they flew to their respective places, so they could practice it.
Ginny flew to the right and then threw the Quaffle over to Dean on her left. Dean caught the Quaffle, but quickly tossed it behind him, where Demelza was already waiting. She caught the ball and flew low to the ground, until she was near the goal post. She pulled herself up, flying up the golden pole and toward the hoop. Ron smirked, seeing her about to throw the Quaffle to his left. He reached out his hands, readying himself, but he suddenly saw her throw the Quaffle backwards, where Ginny flew out of nowhere and headed to his right. He knew he wouldn’t be able to make it in time and cursed himself when he saw the Quaffle speed pass him and into the hoop.
The Chasers all cheered and Ron groaned. “That’s my girl,” Dean yelled, giving Ginny a high-five.
“Wow, Harry. That was a good play,” Demelza said, as she flew passed Draco.
Draco smiled at the comment. He never heard a genuine praise before and was very proud with himself for coming up with that strategy. He turned toward the goal posts and saw Ron wasn’t there. He looked down and saw him walking on the ground. He followed after him, not understanding why he was leaving in the middle of practice.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he called out, as soon as his feet hit the ground.
Ron ignored him and kept walking.
“Hey, I’m talking to you,” Draco yelled, grabbing Ron on his shoulder and turning him around.
“Get off me,” Ron snapped, backing away from Draco.
“You tell me, Harry. Why have you been on my case lately?”
“I’m just doing what I’m supposed to do. I’m captain, and I have to run this team a certain way.”
Ron rolled his eyes. “Well, maybe your team would be better off with someone else as Keeper.”
Draco’s jaw dropped. “You’re wanting to quit the day before our first game? After all the hours and practices we’ve put in?”
Ron stared at the ground, not able to look at his friend. He knew he would be letting his team down if he quit. He just didn’t like the fact that he was getting yelled at all the time.
“Listen,” Draco sighed. “If I try to ease up a little, would you come back?”
Ron shrugged. “I guess so.”
“Fine. Then get back up there, so we can finish our practice,” Draco said, a little less forceful than usual.
Ron nodded and flew back up to the goal posts.
Draco sighed and turned to fly back up, but stopped when he saw a familiar, bushy-haired figure walking toward him. Although she didn’t like the sport all that much, she still came out to watch her friends practice. She had noticed the tiff between her two best friends rise during practice and couldn’t take it anymore.
“He’s sad, you know,” she murmured, looking up at Ron.
“Of what?” Draco furrowed his eyebrows.
She returned her gaze toward Draco. “He feels like he lost you, Harry. You guys rarely ever talk anymore. He thinks he lost his best friend.”
“I haven’t gone anywhere. I’ve just been busy. I can’t be bothered with his petty issues at the moment.”
Hermione shook her head. “I know, but you should really talk to him. Especially since he feels like he can’t talk to you anymore.”
“How do you know all this anyway?”
“He told me,” she shrugged.
“Wow, you guys were able to stop bickering long enough to have an actual conversation?” he snapped.
She placed her hands on her hips and glared at him. “Be careful, Harry. You may have already lost one friend; I doubt you’d want to lose another.” She turned around and walked off the field, toward the castle.
He stared at her retreating backside and smirked. Why must you toy with me so? He shook thoughts of her out of his head and flew back to the center of the field, so they could finish their practice for the day.
After practice, Draco headed back to his common room to get some sleep before their first game against Slytherin the next morning. As he made his way over to his bedroom, he heard some music coming from Hermione’s room.
Curious, he walked slowly toward her bedroom door and leaned against it. This has to be some muggle band, he thought, not able to recognize the song playing on her radio. He leaned closer and smiled when he heard her singing along to the music.
Close your eyes and I'll kiss you,
Tomorrow I'll miss you,
Remember I'll always be true.
And then while I'm away,
I'll write home every day,
And I'll send all my loving to you.
All my loving, I will send to you.
All my loving, darling, I'll be true.
All my loving,
All my loving,
All my loving, I will send to you.
He sighed and turned away from her door and walked toward his bedroom. Once he entered his room, he closed the door, changed into his boxers, wearing no shirt, and crawled into bed.
He stared up at his ceiling, not able to fall asleep. He had so many things on his mind that he couldn’t concentrate on sleeping just yet. Unaware of what he was doing, he started humming the song he just heard coming from Hermione’s room. Fortunately, his humming calmed his thoughts and he was finally able to drift off to sleep.
Hermione was sitting on her bed, dressed in her satin nightgown, listening to her music and writing in her journal. She started writing in her journal during the summer. She had always found that writing your thoughts down was a bit childish, but when one of her friends bought her the journal for her birthday, she decided to write a few things down about her day, not giving it much thought. As the days moved forward, she noticed that she was writing in it more and more each day and became obsessed with writing her thoughts down from that day forward.
Well, it happened again. Harry snapped at me for no reason tonight. Perhaps I should just bite my tongue from now on. It’s sad that one minute he’s fine, but the next, he gets angry. You’d think he had PMS or something! Hmm…maybe he does.
She stopped writing when she heard a muffled laugh. She looked around her room, wondering where it came from. “Okay, Hermione, you’re losing it,” she whispered. She took one last glance around her room and, believing she was just hearing things, started to write again.
I swear I just heard something, but it has to be my mind playing tricks on me. There’s no one here. Do you ever get the sense that someone’s watching you, though? Like, right now, I feel like someone’s here. I feel a presence and it’s starting to scare me. Could it be Voldemort? Is he spying on me somehow? I don’t like this. Perhaps I should go wake up Harry. Grr! Harry! He’s so irritating at times. Remember last year when he was so wrapped up with Malfoy’s whereabouts? Granted, he did have something to worry about, but it totally consumed his life. Could I really see myself with him?
She stopped writing again and looked out her window. This question has been haunting her for a while now, especially when she has been starting to notice someone else lately.
Okay, so don’t laugh, but have you ever noticed the way Malfoy smiles? It’s very rare, but I have actually seen it once or twice before. And I’m not talking about his stupid smirk, but an actual smile. He really is good looking. Sometimes I wonder if he could ever change. I know I know. I can’t change him; only he can change himself. But, wouldn’t it be nice? Mmm…those strong, muscular arms he has. And that chiseled body. To have him hold me would truly be something. Wow! Could I actually be falling for Malfoy? But what about Harry? Oh Merlin. Please help me!
“I had no idea,” a low voice sounded.
She shot up and looked around her room, which was empty. “Who’s there?” she nervously, but bravely, spoke.
“Could you really?” the voice sounded again.
She sat in her bed and held her knees closely to her chest. She knew she wasn’t hearing things; someone was there. “Wh…where are you?”
“Did I just hear…wait…you can hear me?”
Tears started to form in her eyes. “Okay, this isn’t funny anymore. I’m scared, all right? Are you happy?”
“I’m not doing this to scare you. Believe me. I don’t know what’s going on or how you can hear me.”
She wiped some tears away from her eyes. “Your voice,” she whispered, sensing familiarity in the tone.
Draco sat up in his bed, quickly taking a look around his room. “Did I? Did she?” he stammered, as he ran his hand through his hair. He wasn’t all that shocked about being in her mind, knowing he must have been thinking about her when he fell asleep. He was used to these involuntarily jumps, since for the past month, he was usually inside his father’s mind. But, this time was different. Not only was he in her mind, he was actually talking to her. How can I already be able to talk to someone?
Not sure if it was just a dream, he rose out of bed and left his room. He had to know if he really was talking to Hermione and if his powers were advancing.
A few seconds after he exited his room, a girlish figure ran up to him and crashed upon him, wrapping her arms tightly around his body. Instinctively, he wrapped his own arms around her shaking body.
“Ha…Harry,” she hesitated, as she buried her face on his bare chest.
He swallowed, not sure how he should react. He was never good in these situations and didn’t know how to comfort someone. “Shh, it’s okay, ’Mione,” he said, running his hand through her hair to ease her body. He closed his eyes as he smelled her scent close to his body.
“I think someone’s watching me,” she cried. "I heard...a voice."
Then it wasn’t a dream, he thought, as he slowly backed away, which made her look up. Tears had stained her cheeks and she was very pale. “Come on. You’re a Gryffindor. Where’s that brave girl I know?” he smiled, as he moved his thumb along her cheek, wiping away some tears.
She gazed into his eyes and smiled at his tender touch. Not able to take it anymore, she leaned in closer, wanting to feel his lips on her own.
He saw her nearing closer, understanding that she wanted to kiss him, and he reluctantly released her. He knew he could easily take advantage of her and use her weakness against her, but he didn’t want to do that; he didn’t want to hurt her.
She lowered herself to the floor and sat against the wall. “I don’t get you,” she mumbled.
He shook his head and sat down in front of her. “So, this voice,” he began, trying to change the subject of him not kissing her. “Could you tell who it was?”
She shook her head, biting her lip. “I’m not sure,” she lied. Actually, she knew the voice belonged to none other than Draco, but she couldn’t tell Harry. She didn’t know how he would react, knowing that Draco somehow got into her room, or possibly even her head, and was talking to her. She still didn’t know how to react to that, especially after she was just thinking about him.
“Oh,” Draco sighed in relief, happy that she couldn’t make out his voice in her head.
She looked down at the floor, twirling a lock of her hair, embarrassed about what she was going to say next. “Could you…I mean…would you possibly…well,” she tried to manage.
He furrowed his eyebrows, not sure what she wanted from him.
“Would you stay in my room until I fell asleep?” she blurted out.
His eyes opened wide, as he was taken aback. He remained speechless, not sure how to answer her.
She stopped twirling her hair and looked up and saw the surprised expression on his face. “It won’t be too long,” she hastily commented, seeing that he wasn’t all that thrilled. “I’m very tired as it is. I just would feel more comfortable if someone were with me until I was asleep. Just in case someone really was in my room.”
“Okay,” he announced, surprised by his own statement.
She smiled and stood up, reaching her hand down for him to stand up as well. He grabbed her hand and pulled himself up. She walked toward her bedroom, as he followed slowly behind her. He had no idea why he agreed to do this, but knew he couldn’t back out now. He gulped, as he saw her room nearing closer toward him.
When they entered her room, Draco quickly looked around the walls, reading some of the inscriptions. His eyes focused on one quote that made him smile: The supreme happiness of life is the conviction that we are loved; loved for ourselves, or rather in spite of ourselves.
While he was admiring her room, Hermione slipped into bed and followed him with her eyes. She smiled when he came upon the quote that made him smile. “You like Victor Hugo?” she asked.
“Who?” he questioned, as he turned his attention toward her.
He swallowed when he saw her innocently sitting in her bed, with a single sheet covering her. He licked his lips, as he watched one of the straps from her nightgown slide down her shoulder. He bit his lip hard, knowing he had to hold back all of his urges of grabbing her in his arms and kissing her all over.
“He’s a French muggle poet who wrote wonderful plays and novels back in the day,” she explained, as she picked up her strap from her nightgown and placed it back on her shoulder.
“Never heard of him,” he said, taking his eyes off her and glancing around the room. “Um, is there a chair or something where I can sit?”
“Just sit here,” she said, patting the empty spot next to her on the bed.
“Are you sure?” he timidly asked.
“Of course,” she yawned. “I doubt you’ll be waiting long, anyway.”
He nodded and nervously crawled into bed next to her. She yawned again and lay down, turning on her side to look at him. He couldn’t help but look down at her laying figure and see a small amount of cleavage from her nightgown. He quickly looked away, hoping she didn’t catch him staring.
“Thanks again, Harry,” she quietly said, as her eyes began to slowly fall.
He looked up at her ceiling, deciding that was the best place for him to focus. He knew that if he stared anywhere else, he would be in trouble. “No problem,” he swallowed, as he started to bite his fingernails.
“Could you turn out that lamp? I won’t be able to sleep with it on,” she murmured, as her eyes closed.
“Sure,” he said, reaching for the lamp on the table next to him. Before his hand touched the switch, he glanced around the room, noticing that this was the only lamp lighting up her bedroom. “But, it’ll be dark in here,” he fearfully said, moving his hand away from the lamp.
“Well, that’s the point.”
He bit his lip, trying to think of an excuse. “Yeah, but how will I be able to go once you’re asleep? I won’t be able to see.”
She chuckled. “Just use my wand to light your way.”
“What if I just turn it off after you have fallen asleep?” he tried again.
“I told you. I won’t be able to sleep with it on.”
He began biting his fingernails, frantically searching for another excuse. She opened her eyes and watched him worriedly stare up at the ceiling. “You’re not afraid of the dark, are you?” she asked, with a slight humor in her voice.
Draco stopped biting his fingernails and remained silent, not wanting to answer her question. He was very much afraid of the dark. Everywhere he went, he always had some type of light near him, but there was no way he would ever admit that to her.
She sat up in bed, intrigued when he didn’t respond. “Since when?”
He turned toward her and shook his head. “I’m not afraid,” he lied.
She eyed him curiously, believing he was lying to her. “Are you lying to me?”
“Of course not. Why would I lie?” he stubbornly asked, not giving her the satisfaction of knowing he was afraid.
“Okay. Then, could you please turn off the light?”
He closed his eyes and gulped, knowing that soon he would be in total darkness. He opened his eyes again and slowly moved his hand toward her lamp. He felt his hand on the switch and held his breath when he turned the light off. His body tensed, as he was absorbed in total darkness. The bed shifted a little, which he figured was Hermione lying back down.
“Thanks,” she whispered.
He nodded and tightly closed his eyes. He felt a tear start to run down his cheek. He was very scared and didn’t know what to do. He tried to look for any type of light, but everything was pitch black. He felt another tear fall and then another. He took a deep breath, which broke into tiny gasps along the way.
Hermione slowly opened her eyes when she heard his gasps. She could sense that he was scared, but she knew better than to call him out on it. She never realized how much pride he actually had. She reached over and grabbed his hand, tightly squeezing it to let him know she was there.
When he felt her hand in his hand, his body slightly relaxed. He affectionately stroked his thumb over her hand, expressing his gratitude for her comforting him.
“Anytime,” she whispered.
He smiled and, feeling tired himself, began to doze off, as he still held onto her hand.
Dumbledore smiled, which made Draco pause. He couldn’t understand why this man in front of him, facing death, was smiling. “Why are you smiling, old man?”
“A smile means you’re happy,” Dumbledore explained. “And if I’m about to die, I want the whole world to know I died a happy man, with no regrets.”
Draco slightly lowered his wand. He knew it would be a lot easier if Dumbledore weren’t smiling. He could feel the power inside of him start to dwindle. He was amazed that Dumbledore was okay with death. He didn’t know anyone who was able to accept death, feeling that they lived a happy life.
“I envy you,” Draco murmured, lowering his wand all the way to his side.
Dumbledore smiled more radiantly, knowing he had gotten through to Draco. Since Draco weakened a bit, feeling all these different emotions, he had forgotten to close out his mind, which allowed Dumbledore to read it. He could see how Draco was wishing for a better, happier, life than the one he had now. He knew Draco needed to figure out who he truly was, before his path would be chosen for him.
“A true wish will last forever,” Dumbledore smiled.
Draco stirred in his bed, as that night on the rooftop haunted his dreams again. He subconsciously gripped Hermione’s hand tighter and brought it closer to his chest. A smile formed on his lips as he immediately was taken out of his dream and placed in another dream. This time, however, it wasn’t one of his dreams he was in.
Hermione was sitting on a rock near the lake, looking up at the nighttime sky. The stars were sparkling up high and the moon’s light reflected off the water. She held her knees close to her body, smiling as tears rolled down her cheek.
She wiped the tears away and continued to look up at the sky. “I know you’re there,” she whispered. “I don’t know how you’re doing it, but I know it’s you.”
“How did you know?” a soft voice called out.
She shook her head. “I just do. Is that weird?”
“As long as it’s not scary,” the voice replied.
“At first I was scared. But, now-” she paused, not able to continue.
“You know who I am,” he finished for her.
She slowly nodded and lowered her stare to the lake.
“And that doesn’t scare you?”
She closed her eyes and shrugged. “I don’t know what to think anymore.” She opened her eyes and took a deep breath. “So, why are you here, Malfoy? Or more importantly, how are you here?”
“It’s this spell I was born with. I didn’t even know about it until just recently,” Draco answered.
“Splituncto,” she mumbled, recalling the spell from one of her many books.
“You know. You really are the smartest witch I’ve ever come across,” he laughed.
She blushed at his comment. She had a feeling that he didn’t know too much about his own power and bit her bottom lip at the thought. She didn’t know how he would handle it if she told him what she knew, and she herself didn’t know what to think about it as well. She never would have thought that it was possible, especially with him. She decided to bite her tongue and not tell him.
“So, what is this place,” he asked.
“It’s where I go when I need to escape. It’s by far one of my favorite dreams,” she said, as she took off her shoes, rolled up her pants and dipped her legs in the cold water below.
“But, you were crying,” he said, with some concern. “How can this be a good dream?”
She chuckled and didn’t know why, but wanted to keep talking to him. She did find it a little obtrusive for him to come barging into her dream like that, but she didn’t want him to go. She kind of liked his company. “Those were happy tears.”
“Wait. You were crying because you were happy? Wow, I really don’t understand women sometimes.”
She laughed a little louder now. “Sometimes?”
“Okay, most of the time,” he laughed. “But don’t you dare go blabbing that around.”
She rolled her eyes. “I won’t.”
“So, what are you happy about?”
“Nothing, it’s stupid,” she said, biting her bottom lip.
“I doubt that. Come on. Tell me,” he urged. “Don’t forget what else I can do with this power of mine.”
She shook her head. “Draco Malfoy, able to control a person’s mind. Now that’s scary,” she laughed.
“Damn straight,” he stated. “People will fear me.”
“They already do.”
“Oh, right. Well, people will respect me.”
“Only because they will fear you,” she pointed out.
“Come on, Granger. Let me win some,” he pleaded, which made her laugh. “So, what are you happy about?”
She smiled and lifted her legs out of the water, bringing them back up to her chest. She leaned her head on her knees and closed her eyes, still smiling.
“Okay, okay. I’ll take the hint. I’ll go,” he said, sensing that she wasn’t going to answer him.
“Yeah, I’m sure there are plenty of other people you want to go invade right now. Probably people with more adventurous and fun-filled dreams for you to enjoy.”
"I'm enjoying this one,” he sweetly answered. “Pleasant dreams.”
“They will be once you’re out of them,” she joked.
“Oh, that was just wrong,” he playfully joked back. “I’m hurt.”
“I’m sure you’ll live,” she said, as she bit her lip sensing the flirtations they were giving each other.
“And I know how disappointing that will be for you.”
“You said it, not me,” she smiled.
“Well, thanks for letting me stick around.”
She rolled her eyes. “I don’t think I had much of a choice, did I?”
“Hmm, yeah, you’re right,” he continued to tease. “Okay, I’m really leaving, now. Night."
"Night, Malfoy," she smiled.
A/N: Hey everyone! I hope my story is still keeping you entertained! :) I can't wait for these next few chapters to post. I LOVED writing them and I hope you like where this is heading. Not the next chapter, but Chapter 15 I think you will REALLY like (at least, I hope!) Narcissa will finally be introduced!
BTW: the lyrics in this chapter were from the song "All My Loving" by The Beatles. And, although Hermione mentions it in the story, that famous quote is by Victor Hugo, a French poet. :)
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