Something was wrong. The sun was black, the clouds were blacker, and the sky was a sheer gray. The Forbidden Forrest was wiped out and in it’s place, a leviathan pit. A shriek…a terrible shriek emitted from its depths and then, pure silence. Draco’s heart thumped, and he began to run towards the pit, his speed to match his terrible fear of what he might see in the depths of the hole. As he neared its edge he pulled out his wand and as he opened his mouth to say a spell, his wand crumbled in his hand and floated away in ashes on a sudden, cold breeze. His mind and body numb with disbelief, terror, and anger, he watched as the earth surrounding the hole began to fall within; the pit was filling back up again. Draco could not move, his eyes would not close, and his mouth and tongue were not able to form one word. Draco’s stomach plummeted when a ruby and emerald rose pushed its way to the new surface of the hole and lay there innocently until it blackened and shattered into oblivion.
Draco awoke with a great, sharp gasp. His breathing coming fast and heavy, the air seemed to slice at his lungs and he shivered in a cold sweat. His gray sleeping shirt now black with sweat was sticking against the rapid rising and falling of his chest, hugging the slightly prominent separations between his biceps. Draco pushed the small amount of blanket off of his legs and sat at the edge of the bed with his feet on the floor. The floor felt like ice against the heel and balls of his feet. The whole room seemed to be a freezing void if it not were for the barely visible outlines of the sleeping Slytherins. Draco stood slowly and immediately his head began to ache. Tending to this with a mere hand on his head he walked shakily to the water pitcher at the window sill, his heart still thumping madly from what he had just awoken from. Draco poured himself a glass of water with a shaking hand, spilling half the jug on the sill. Suddenly he was possessed with the crazy urge to run up to Gryffindor Tower to check if Hermione was sleeping soundly in her bedroom. But it was quickly overshadowed by the realization that it was just a dream
‘Just a dream.” Draco murmured as he put the glass to his lips and drank slowly. Draco then pulled off the wet shirt and tossing it on to the floor carelessly, he returned to his bed. Lying flat on his back, the scream he had heard in the dream began to repeat itself in his mind, the terror began rising from his chest again and came out from his mouth in one small word.
“Hermione.”
He did not know why he said her name. She was like his shield against his fears; he found such a comfort in her that he could not find in anything else in his life. Hermione was his home, his sanctuary. Draco loved her far beyond anything he knew, his heart beat now only for the hope he would see her, touch her, be with her, and protect her. As Draco lay against the mattress, anger began to fill him, over powering the fear. He would not allow Hermione to be hurt, he would kill Pansy if she tried, if she dared, if she even touched Hermione, he would kill her. The anger and fear combined as one and began to swell in his chest. The emotion was so great that he jumped out of bed once more with the hopes of finding some relief outside of the dormitory.
Crossing the room, he swung the bedroom door open with such a great force that the top hinge of the door broke free. The door now hung creakingly on one hinge, and Draco stood stock still, staring at the person who was chuckling nastily in a dark green armchair next to the fire.
“Sleep walking, Draco?” Pansy asked, her eyes glittering maliciously, the light from the flames making her seem more devilish than usual. Draco choked back his anger with great difficulty and stared at her with vehemence. Draco then allowed a strained, cruel smile to pass his features.
“I heard you in your sleep. Tossing and turning, murmuring her name. I was under the impression that we weren’t allowed visitors of the other gender in the dead of night.” Pansy said challengingly, her eyes swept Draco’s bare torso, lingering almost longingly at the hard muscles of his abdomen and chest.
“You’re pathetic,” Draco hissed with hatred he did not know he could possess “You’ll amount to nothing. You’ll never take Hermione away from me.”
“Or you’ll kill me, right?” Pansy said, her voice bathed in cruel laughter and mockery, “Draco, your empty threats are boring me. We both know you aren’t capable of murder.”
The anger rising in him stretched to a breaking point and it was with the utter knowledge of the right thing to do that he recovered control.
“We will see.” Draco finally said, and turned to go back into the dormitory. However, during the small conversation between Pansy and himself he had not noticed the light of the bedroom turn on and was met with questioning gazes and angry glares from his roommates.
“Go back to sleep.” Draco muttered and a boy turned the lights off. Walking to his table Draco picked up his wand and whispered the repairing charm at the door, and shut it with another wave of his wand.
As he sat on his bed he heard Pansy chuckle nastily once more and could not lie down. This time, it wasn’t anger that was preventing him from sleeping; it was fear. Then, a terrible thought came to him. What if he could not save Hermione? What if he had been what people always had thought of him? A great coward protected by stronger comrades? The thought was poison, infecting every particle of his mind, a contagion that infested every positive thought.
Everything Pansy had said seemed to not want to leave him. He could, and definitely would kill Pansy, and if he couldn’t kill her, he would make her suffer. Draco knew something was amiss; there was still something he could not grasp. Draco did not know what Pansy was capable of; and it was because of this, he was afraid. Amidst the movements of his roommates turning on their sides, or to lie flat on their back or stomachs, Draco sat still with fear, confusion, and the shame of what he had brought down with his love for Hermione Granger.
Hermione was allowed the day with Draco since Harry and Ron had made plans to meet people in other places. Hermione met Draco by the frozen lake after they had lunch and had freshened up for the evening dinner. She crept up behind the silhouette of Draco against the bright afternoon sun and wrapped her arms around his waist. Draco’s body tensed underneath her arms and he breathed in and out deeply, enjoying the familiar warmth and comfort Hermione’s body blanketed him with.
Draco unwound her arms from his waist and swiveling gently around, he held her to his body like a sole lifeline.
“You look so tired.” Hermione said, her chin resting on his chest as she looked up at him.
“I’m alright.” Draco reassured her, rubbing her back.
“I hope so.” Hermione replied, and kissed the prickly edge of his chin, making Draco smile. He looked down at her lovingly.
“Do you want to go for a walk?” Draco asked.
“In this weather?” Hermione replied pointedly.
“It’s not that cold, is it?” Draco asked, he himself shivering slightly. Hermione, raising an eyebrow, pulled out her wand and placed the tip on the shoulder of Draco’s jacket.
“Radiatum” She whispered, and after doing the same to hers’, she slipped the wand back in her pocket. Draco smiled appreciatively as a gentle, warm breeze coursed through his body, making the frigid weather bearable enough to walk around in.
After kissing her deeply on her lips, he led her away from the lake and to the soft, snow-covered, brightly lit grounds that surrounded Hogwarts Castle.
“Do you know the phrase ‘the bumblebee flies anyway’?” Hermione suddenly asked, kicking some snow into the air.
“No, actually, I haven’t heard it until now.” Draco mused.
“Okay, how much do you know about the bumblebee?”
“Err…well, they’re black and yellow and they make honey. Oh yes, and they fly around and bug the hell out of people.” Draco replied, still amused at this random question.
“Did you know that they aren’t supposed to fly?” Hermione asked.
“They’re not?” Draco asked.
“No.” Hermione replied.
“Why are they not supposed to fly?” asked Draco.
“Well, Muggle researchers say they aren’t aerodynamically stable enough to fly. Its wings are too small and its body is too big. Such small wings shouldn’t be able to support such a huge body.”
“But…the bumblebee flies anyway…” Draco said, realization dawning on him.
“Yes. It is unbound by what society says about it. It is completely and totally free because it goes beyond its own limits and doesn’t feel bad about it,” said Hermione, and then looking him straight in the eye, said, “It doesn’t care what other people think.”
Draco thought about this for a moment and then realized what she was trying to say.
“We’re like the bumblebees, aren’t we, Hermione?” he asked.
Hermione looked into his eyes lovingly and then nodded softly. Draco smiled and pulled her into a warm hug.
As he held her, he remembered the nightmare he had had over the night. Draco remembered Pansy, remembered her words, and silently wished more than ever that he could trust himself to save Hermione’s life.