Ron Weasley stood in the middle of a rickety bridge. Below him was a river with fast current and vicious rapids. He had no idea how he had got here. Earlier, he had been happily skipping through a meadow with red pansies being pollinated by purple butterflies. Somehow that happy dream had turned into a fierce struggle.
At either opening of the bridge stood a figure. Each pleaded with him to come to their side, but Ron couldn’t understand why. On the right side of the bridge stood Hermione Granger, still blue from his potion mishap. On the left, was the ugly Draco Malfoy, purple as a pansy.
Though in my other dream the pansies were red, Ron mused, kind of like my skin…Ron shook his head violently, he did not want to travel down that path of thought. Still, Ron knew he had a choice to make, which side of the bridge to exit upon? For it was clear that if he stayed on the bridge much longer it would collapse and hurl him into the torrent.
“Ron!” cried Hermione to his right, “Get off the bridge! It’s not safe!”
That was sensible Hermione, fretting over his life. Ron had a small inkling that bigger things were at play here, though. And if he did get off the bridge, on which side? Neither section looked safe to cross. He turned to face Hermione and took a small step in her direction.
“Weasley! It’s come over to my side or die!” hollered Malfoy from his side.
Ron paused. Why did Draco want him so bad? Maybe he just wanted him to die. To be so confused that he never got off the bridge in time. And what did Malfoy mean by his side? The side of the Death Eaters, or something else? He took another step, this time towards the left.
SNAP!
Ron spun around to see in horror that one of the supporting ropes for the bridge had snapped. The entire bridge tipped until it was perpendicular to its previous position. Ron clung to the side, hoping he wouldn’t fall. The violent flow below him looked deadly. He couldn’t debate any longer; he would have to make a choice. But the choice was so hard to make…
“Ron, I don’t care which side you choose to go on, just get off the bridge!” Hermione shrieked, a note of panic in her voice.
Ron waited for Malfoy to reply. To offer more words of comfort and reasons that Ron should cross to his side. But the reply never came. Ron felt rather desolate, as though he had been abandoned. But he knew that was wrong, he never depended on Malfoy for anything. He should go over to Hermione if he possessed any sense.
SNAP! SNAP!
But it was too late, the last ropes snapped and Ron found himself tumbling down to fatal river. He heard Hermione screaming his name. He braced himself for the fall, eyes squeezed shut…
But it never came. Instead of going down, Ron felt himself being transported upwards on a heavenly air draft. He opened his eyes and realized that he was flying on the back of a giant purple butterfly. He sat still in wonder for a few moments, marveling and the creatures beauty and grace. The delicate insect turned it’s head around to face him. And Ron realized with a shock that it was Draco Malfoy’s head.
“Don’t worry Ronald,” Butterfly-Draco cooed, “I’ll always be there for you, even if it doesn’t seem like it. Now we can fly through the cotton candy clouds for eternity.”
“I rather like cotton candy,” Ron admitted dubiously. Perhaps this was the life for him. Flying on a beautiful butterfly’s back, stuffing his face full of cotton candy, it sounded like pure bliss. And there was a lovely sunrise that butterfly-Draco was flying towards.
Ron woke up in a heavy sweat. He shook his head three times trying the clear the horrible dream from his head. He had to stop having these nightmares. They were driving him insane. But he didn’t know how to stop them. Ron got up from his bed and began to pace.
He could ask Hermione for help, she always knew what to do. But that would mean telling her about the dreams, and Ron didn’t feel comfortable doing that. He also felt a bit resentful towards her for not making more of an effort to save him from Malfoy in the dream.
Well, at least there’s one good thing about this dream, Ron thought bitterly, Malfoy doesn’t know about it.
With that he climbed back into his four poster bed and fervently hoped that he would not have any more of those dreams tonight. He didn’t think he could handle the revulsion of it all.
Draco Malfoy felt wonderful, powerful, and most of all, beautiful. He was soaring through some delightful cotton candy clouds. For no real reason he felt absolutely at ease with everything in the world. The sunrise was so lovely, many reds and golds and pinks and purples.
As he drifted through the warm air he realized that he had wings. He flapped them lazily. The world around him seemed so beautiful. He batted his wings again and realized with a small shock that he was a butterfly. The change was odd, from his previous horrible dreams. But Draco didn’t want to think of unpleasant things right now, all he wanted to do was drift happily in the cotton candy clouds.
There was a small figure on his back. Draco didn’t know the true identity, but he did know that having him on his back gave him intense pleasure. The person was scratching his insect back at the moment. It was a very relaxing massage. Draco turned to smile at his new masseuse. He found himself face to face with…
Ronald Weasley.
This can’t be happening to me, Draco panicked, not again! But Ron was there, on his back, there was nothing he could change about that. As he debated the various ways to rid himself of the rodent, he heard Ron speak, his voice so close to his butterfly ear.
“Oh Drakie, are we going to live happily ever after?”
“Ehgats!” Draco spat, sitting upright in his bed. He had dreamt yet another Ron-dream. And this time as a butterfly! He was going insane, there was no other explanation. His only comfort was knowing that Weasley had no knowledge of these horrendous dreams. It had been over a week since the colored potion incident and Draco had been avoiding him like a plague. But to no avail because every night he continued to have dreams about the weasel.
Draco pulled the covers back over himself aggressively. He needed rest to think properly, but he didn’t want any more weasel nightmares.
“Whoa Ron, you look like you didn’t get much sleep, rough night?” inquired a well-rested Harry.
“I’m fine,” Ron insisted. However the dark circles around his eyes told the truth. He had been so worried about having another Malfoy dream that he hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep that night. He picked moodily at his porridge and waited for someone to change the subject.
“You know,” Hermione input suddenly, “I think I’m going to go to the library.”
“Really?” Ron perked up. “I’ll go with you then, shall I?”
“Erm, sure Ron,” Hermione put hesitantly. Normally he never wanted to go to the library. In fact, he had openly stated that it was his least favorite place in Hogwarts aside from Moaning Myrtle’s toilet. However, he looked so sleep deprived that Hermione reasoned he could use the quiet of the library to get a much-deserved nap.
“Harry, do you want to come as well?” she asked.
Harry was lazily leafing through the Daily Prophet whose cover was depicting more screaming wizards and witches running from the terror that Malfoy had unleashed a few weeks ago. He looked up at Hermione.
“Sure, I’m sick of reading about this problem and not doing anything about it.”
“You know, I don’t think Malfoy is going to do anything about Edgarwin the Evil,” Hermione stated as the three friends made their way to the library.
“Of course not, he probably reads the newspaper everyday and laughs happily at all the damage he caused,” Ron muttered bitterly.
“Well, at least no one has discovered who started it,” Harry concluded.
“Would that be so bad?” Hermione wondered aloud. “Once people located the source, wouldn’t it be easier for them to find the solution?”
“Hermione, we’ve been working on it for days and we haven’t even come close to figuring out a solution,” Harry reasoned.
“But the Ministry would have more resources,” Hermione protested.
“And we’ll get in trouble for not telling them right away,” Ron reasoned.
Draco Malfoy cast a furtive glance up and down the aisle of books where he was. There was no one in sight. That was good. His hand snaked out of his robes and snatched a book from the shelf. Casually, as though nothing were wrong, Draco concealed the book inside of his robe. He had five other books there already.
However, he didn’t want anyone else to find out that he had them. Yes, Draco Malfoy was once again perusing the Dream section of the library. And he was terrified that someone would find him with such books in his possession. It was bad enough that he continued to wake the Slytherins with his nightmares, but to be caught with books about how to remove men from his life…he didn’t want to think about his humiliation.
He lazily paced up and down the row. His glance idly taking in the book titles. It looked on the outside as though Draco Malfoy was merely bored. Inside, however, his brain was in turmoil.
What Dreams Mean…How to See into Other’s Dreams, yuck why would I want to do that? Dreamy Cream Cake, what is that book doing in this section? Draco thought as he read the spines of the many books. When Warm Fuzzies Turn to Cold Pricklies: A study about why nightmares happen, no I’ve already read that one. Love Dremes, I most certainly am going to avoid THAT one…
And on and on the inner tirade went. Draco continued to pilfer any and every book he thought could help him. At last when he had a dozen books, he decided it was time to make a getaway. Glancing around himself one last time, he broke into a brisk walk to the end of the row. The coast appeared to be clear.
That is, until Ron Weasley walked around the corner and smack into Draco Malfoy. Draco was so startled that he let go of the books he had been concealing under his cloak and let them spill to the floor.
“Watch where you’re going Weasel!” Draco snarled and hastily tried to collect his stash before Ron got a good glimpse at them. But it was too late.
“Are those, dream books?” Ron sniggered, watching Draco hurriedly shove them up his cloak.
“Shove off, Weasley,” Draco spat.
“What’s this one?” Ron picked up one of the many books Draco was trying to hide and read the cover, “Confusing Love Dreames Revealed: Do you really love them?”
Draco’s cheeks flushed slightly as Ron smirked and flipped through the book. He then began to saunter off with it down the aisle. Draco felt a small feeling of alarm rise up inside of him. That book might contain the answers he was seeking. He couldn’t let Weasley take it.
“Hey, weasel, give me my effing book back!” Malfoy hollered angrily.
Ron paused and turned to face Malfoy. He didn’t want to give the book up at all. It might contain the answers he was seeking. “You have other books just like this, go read those!” he replied.
Malfoy was about to shout back when he caught sight of Madam Pince. Lowering his voice, he growled at Ron, “You’ll be sorry, Weasley. I need that book for reasons you wouldn’t understand, not some little game of yours. Now give it to me now!”
“Hah!” laughed Ron, “Like I would ever give anything up to scheming snake such as yourself.”
“You asked for this,” Draco pulled out his wand, “Accio Book!”
The book flew out of Ron’s grasp. Just as quickly as Malfoy, Ron grabbed his wand and replied with another; “Accio Book!”
The book hovered in midair above both boys. Ron was painfully reminded of his dream with himself on the bridge. He inwardly prayed that Draco could not transfigure himself into a butterfly and snatch the book from the air. Both boys were putting all their efforts into drawing the book towards them. However, the exertion proved to be too much for one small book.
And it spontaneously combusted.
Draco and Ron stared at each other in disbelief as they were covered with random scraps of paper and binding from the book.
“Nice going, Weasley,” Draco sneered and stalked off, leaving Ron fuming behind him.
Stupid Weasley, always sticking his nose where it’s not wanted, Draco grumbled inwardly, And then he went and destroyed a perfectly useful book, which I am consequently covered in!
He had managed to brush all the scraps into a pile in the middle of the corridor. He was about to walk away when he heard an unpleasant crunching noise. Draco looked down and realized that a scrap of paper had become wedge in the waist of his pants.
Gross. He pulled the paper out, it appeared to be half of a page. It was written in very elegant, flowing script. Maybe this has the answers I was looking for, Draco thought. He smoothed the paper out and began to read:
Dear Dream Witch,
I have been having many dreams lately about being in love with my worst enemy. What makes these dreams even more unfavorable is the fact that she is a she, like myself. To complicate matters, the evil Edgarwin has begun to invade our town….
And the note ended, well, the paper it was written upon did at least. Draco groaned aloud. He began to search frantically upon his person for the rest of the note, but he could not find it. It must have landed on Ron…
It seemed that everywhere he turned he was further implicated into working with the Gryffindorks. The rest of the note (and hopefully it’s answer) would be somewhere on Ron’s person. (Draco hurriedly attempted to avoid thinking about where the fateful scrap could possibly be lodged. He failed.)
So the answer lay with Ron. Normally, Draco would have abandoned all hope of fixing the problem and continued ignoring the Gryffindors. However these dreams were too painfully embarrassing for him to ignore. He turned his feet back in the direction of the library.
“Ron, mate, what happened to you?” Harry asked perplexedly as his best friend stumbled towards their table full of strays papers and pieces of binding.
“You killed a book!” Hermione cried out in a scandalized tone.
“Don’t worry, Hermione, I didn’t do it,” Ron growled. He explained his unfortunate encounter with Draco in the Dream section of the library, “And then the book just exploded! Like that! And now I’m covered with paper.”
“Here, let me help you brush it off,” Hermione said, catching that Ron was upset over the destruction of all that knowledge. She proceeded to help Ron shed his papery coat. She glanced at the occasional scraps and noticed that they were all about dreams. But she didn’t question him about it. Then she saw the year the book had been written.
“Circa 1634!” she exclaimed, “This book was really old! There’s no way the library can replace it!”
“Calm down Hermione,” Ron grumbled pulling out a piece of parchment that had become lodged in the collar of his shirt, “It’s just a book. And a bad one at that, look at this letter. Some witch complaining about the trials of love dreams during the reign of some evil warlock named Edgar…OUCH!”
Hermione had snatched the paper from his grasp and was eagerly poring over it.
“What’s the big idea?” Ron demanded.
“Gee, I don’t know,” Harry intoned sarcastically, “Some evil guy named Edgar is on a rampage now. And the same thing happened back then. Wonder why she’s so excited?”
“Oh, that,” Ron muttered. To him, his own personal trials were so much more important. “Does it offer any help?”
“I don’t know,” Hermione sighed, looking up from the paper, “It includes a lot of if’s. But if there were two enemies having romantic dreams about each other they could defeat him.”
Ron’s stomach did an uncomfortable lurch. “How?” he squeaked.
“Well, it says here they have to profess their love to one another.” Hermione looked back down at the fateful scrap of parchment for reference. “Then their love would be so true that it would rend Edgarwin mortal and he would die within the next thirteen hours.”
“Harrumph,” Harry expelled, “That’s not going to happen. That would be like making Ron and Malfoy fall in love with each other.”
“Yeah,” Hermione lamented, “and they wouldn’t even admit it to each other.”
“Can I just say that I don’t love Malfoy?” Ron input. But his insides were quivering like the one time he had eaten a gallon of jello in one sitting. He knew how to stop Edgarwin the Evil, but would he?
A/N: Aren’t you proud of me? I updated! I hope you found this chapter satisfactory, though it had a bit more substance as opposed to humor in it. May I just say that when I had originally planned this fic, it was only a one-shot? And then it progressed to three chapters and now it’s gone rather out of control!