Blood Magic

Concealing Her Creature

The room watched as Hermione's mind went into a total utter shut down. Her body went still as her face held no notable expression. She stared down at the floor, clutching her hands into her stomach.

The conversation started to pick up again, but she hadn't heard a word of it. Mione's head was overcome with fog and an ominous sense of realization that was slowly creeping from the darkest recesses of her mind. All those countless nights she had fallen victim to her nightmares; all those nights where she had been saved by a blond Slytherin who's silver eyes  lifted her out of her slump; all those nights where he had held her close to his chest and eased her anxiety.

"No..." she said to herself. "No, it c-can't be true."

The Draco that kept reappearing in her dreams was surely just a figment of her imagination. Right? Yes, it had to be. Draco wouldn't sneak through her mind without her consent...

...Consent...

The air caught in her lungs as the very word echoed through her ears just as his voice had the last time she had fallen asleep.

" Use your words, Granger...I need you to tell me that this is what you want ."

She had envisioned him so clearly. Draco hovering just inches above her; carefully undoing the buttons of her clothes; feeling the slickness that waited between her legs- Yes, this was her mind piecing together a fantasy all of her own.

Nothing more.

However, the voice in the back of her mind was ready and willing to argue such an extensive claim. Even if it took all night.

You can deny a lot of things, witch. But you cannot ignore your senses. 

"What the hell are you on about?" she hissed to herself.

You sit here debating against something that you had personally experienced and are trying to discredit it. You are not stupid, although you're refusing to acknowledge the actuality of the situation. And that in itself is infuriating. 

Good God. Only her inner voice would be this philosophically confusing. And at a time like this, no less.

The voice huffed and snarled as though its patience were wearing thin. You felt Draco in your dreams that same way you had felt Ivan. Only difference was that Ivan used fear tactics in order to get to you, whereas Draco chose a more gentle approach. Regardless, each one appeared to you as clear as the people in front of you now. No blurry distortion. No mental exaggerations .

"If that's true, then why does Draco not appear the way he looks now whenever I see him in my dreams?" she exasperated. "Why would I not see him the way I do now when I'm awake?"

You see Draco for more than just his physical appearance. You told him yourself that you do not see him as a monster. His claws, his fangs, and even his eyes are not what you really see when you look at him . 

Hermione wasn't sure what pained her the most at the moment. The ache in her finger tips or the agony of being upbraided by her own second half. It all felt like one heap of madness. Its own nightmare in which she could not awaken from.

Her nerves coiled and flared as the anxiety continued to nibble away at her ability to reason. "I...No, I-I don't...I can't b-believe this-

Ivan's claws had scrapped down your arm, you felt the pain, blood, and pressure of each drag of his nails. The moment you woke up, you had discovered that what he had done was real. Now, why would your encounters with Draco in your dreams be any less real than that?

The whites of her eyes grew bigger. "Draco can sense my emotions," she thought wildly. "He can tell whenever I'm feeling stressed, anxious, or afraid...even when I am asleep." Her lips trembled.