But It's Only A Dream...

Here is the Dramione fic that you guys wanted.. Comment, rate, favourite, message me and yeah! You vote which one you like better, this one or the Luna/Draco one. :D

Chapter 1

Who's That Knocking At My Door?

She hated him.
He hated her.
And yet, they were still both falling for each other...
*
‘Hermione?’ Ron called from the other room at the Burrow. She cringed; Hermione always hated talking to Ron. It always ended up awkward or into a fight. Glumly she trudged along the narrow hallway until she saw the door that led to his room.

‘Yup?’ She asked, not bothering to keep up her normal perfect composure. She was too tired to care at the moment.

‘Well, we’ve got school in less than a week now and Harry’s not here...’ he drifted off. Hermione knew this was just a plot to get her to talk to him, but she let him continue. It’s not like she was doing anything.

‘Ron, I’m sure he’ll be here soon,’ The Gryffindor assured. ‘Was that all?’ she turned around to leave, but his panicked expression caught her off guard.

‘No! That’s not all – I mean – errr-’ His voice was cut off by Hermione. She slowly placed a finger on his lips. He did his very best to refrain from kissing it. He recoiled, as she took a step back. Clearly, their hormones were getting the better of them both. The awkward situation was fortunately interrupted by a ringing at the dingy door. They both sprang up to get it.

‘Who is it?’ Fred called from the story above

‘Is it Harry?’ Ginny said eagerly

‘Ooh, Ginny’s got a crush-’

‘He’s my bloody boyfriend, you git!’

‘Do you want to snog the Boy-Who-Lived?’

‘Shut-up!’

‘Quit it, the both of you!’ Molly’s tired voice was heard from above. Hermione silently chuckled to herself; trust Mrs.Weasley to save the day. But she felt awfully sorry for her, with all her troubles right now, plus all this Voldemort business...

The dazed witch was pulled out of her trance by a gasp. Actually, four gasps. Ron’s, Molly’s, Fred’s and Ginny’s. Standing at the door before them, was the imfamous ferret, of course roughly escorted by Harry. What was he doing here? He looked at them all with despise.

‘Harry what’s going on?’ Ginny was first to break the horrible silence as she walked down the stairs, followed by the others. Ron watched silently.

‘Yeah Harry, why do you have the ferret with you?’ Hermione sneered. She wasn’t going to let him get the better of her this time, like most of the other experiences.

‘DON’T bring up the ferret incident, you stupid mudblood!’ Draco spat. The whole room went silent.

‘Harry, why’s he here?’ Ginny tried again. To say she slashed the silence with a knife would be an understatement.

‘Community service,’ He began ‘Dumbledore caught him hexing a Year-Two, and now he has to spend six months around The Golden Trio’ Harry beamed

‘Hoping something good will rub off on him?’ George grinned before Harry could reply though, the Blonde interrupted.

‘/Excuse me/’ Draco sneered ‘but the only thing that will be rubbing off on me will be Pansy, next week’ He snickered.

‘You’re such a pervert’ Ginny spat. They glared at each other until Harry put a defensive arm in front of them, clearly stating his territory. The-Boy-Who-Lived then let go of Draco’s collar, who looked glad to fix up his attire.

As people filed out, bored with the new excitement, Hermione and Draco were the only ones that stayed near the front door. Glaring at each other, Draco was the first to speak,

‘Like what you see?’ He drawled, spinning around so the mudblood could get a better view. She felt like she was about to vomit.

‘If you think I like seeing a brat twirl around like a wrackspurt, then maybe you should get your cranium checked’ She replied sarcastically. He looked taken aback, hurt. Surprised by the odd flicker of emotion that surged through the Slytherin’s eyes, she took a hasty step back.

‘You think you’re so great, don’t you? Just because you are all buddy-buddy with The-Boy-Who-Should-Have-Died, he was mere inches away from accepting my hand!’ he exclaimed, flailing his arms.

‘Oh just because he didn’t accept your hand in marriage, you’ve been at his throat ever since!’ She cried.

For once, he didn’t know how to retort to that. So he left her there, and walked into the lounge, with a pink tinge still on his cheeks. She stood there for a while, staring at the spot he used to stand lazily. Taking a big breath in, she ran upstairs and let the tears stream down her face.

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