A Dream

A Dream/ Moondaughter

One night he had a dream. He dreamt of green swirling fog, alive in darkness and blackness so deep it looked like the embodiment of chaos. He was flying, or rather, he was hanging in thin air. It was very possible that he was hanging in thin air because there was no floor. There was also no sky, no sun and no moon. Just thin, swirling emerald green fog.

The fog was whirling around him, he felt his hair ripple around his face, licking like ebony flames his cheeks and ears. His hair was only a shade lighter than the absolut darkness. He felt the tiny , butterfly-like touches. He was quite soothed, as a matter of fact.

Then he noticed something. Another shape in the swirling fog. He narrowed his eyes to see what it was, but all he saw was a long outline shadowing the cloudy fog.

He tried to get closer to that shape. He moved his hands around him like in swimming, or like what he thought swimming was. He tried to swim through the fog to get closer and see the silhouette. And he was moving. He was getting closer to it, much to his content. Then he realised that it wasn't him who got closer to the shape. The shape was getting closer to him. He was drawed in thin air by some unknown force to the shape, that got clearer and clearer by the second. Or what he thought was a second. He doubted whether time even existed in this place.

The strange shape was getting more focused. It also started embodying colours other than a darker green, which distinguished it from the fog. It resumed colours like white and black and...and skin. It was a human being. He at least hoped it was a human being. Another person might help him get out of this nothingness.

The shape was now undoubtedly human. It had a face, hair, a body. Harry saw the human's legs and hands hanging limply, like his own were. He got nearer and nearer and squinted his eyes to see the other human.

Long hands and legs clothed in some black garnment which was moving slightly with the course of the wind in this place. A face, hair.

Harry tried to make the face out, but it was hidden. Hidden by the hair of whoever it was. It looked feminine, the hair. It shone in some unearthly light.

Oh no, Harry thought, it was Malfoy hair.

Bracing himself for the invitable, he looked up the face and expected the moment when the wind subside and a cold, sneering face like all Malfoys (even Malfoy women) had would come into his vision.

If there was anything worse than being in this place with a Malfoy, Harry would surely be surprised. Besides Voldemort, that is.

So he waited. Strangely enough, the human with the Malfoy hair was filling his entire viewing space. That or he just could not avert his eyes from the figure. That particular thought quite scared him.

After what seemed like an entire eternity, the wind moved and the hair swirled away from the face. It was Draco Malfoy.

The long haired, closed-eyed version of Draco Malfoy.

Actually, maybe it was Lucius . I'd be damned if I could distinguish Ferret senior from Ferret junior, he thought. They looked so bloody alike.

No, the face was young, the sneer rooted less deep in it. Definitely Draco. Bloody hell.

And then....then it happened.

Draco's eyes opened. Harry gaped, the sound of his cry of shock swallowed by the unfinite fog and darkness.

His eyes...

His eyes had changed. Or rather, they weren't his eyes at all now.

Instead of seeing a pair of stormy grey, black pupiled eyes, Harry saw a thin ring of silver surrounding a pair of stars.

No, there was no other word for them. They were stars.

But they were not some lovely winter-night stars that made you long to fly over to them. They shone so brightly, it was hurting Harry to look at them only a brief moment after they were visible to him .

The stars got brighter and brighter, lightening the whole pale face and swirling platinum hair around it, making it so beautifully cruel that Harry was scared down to his very essence of being. Those eyes pierced the fog like sun beams and penetrated his soul. They scorched his very essence, they were internally burning him.

He screamed.

And woke up.

The vivid sight of those radiant stars still flashed in his inner eyelids for a moment. Then they vanished.

Harry went to sleep again, and never remembered the dream.