Second Time Around

Like a forgotten Memory

"I bet you didn't notice,

The first time your heart was broken

You called me up and we talked till the morning

And that time that you were stranded

I was there before you landed

He was a no show, I made sure you got home"—You're not alone, Big Time Rush

"Draco, mate, what the hell were you doing?!" cried Theo as he stared, frustrated, at Draco who collapsed on the floor at the expense of Nott's Dementor spell. They hadn't been able to find any stray Dementors in Hogsmeade, so they had rescheduled. It was probably for the best as Draco was in no state of mind as to actually conjure up a happy thought for a Patronus. His mind was abuzz with different memories.

Even now, three days later, he still couldn't get the image of Hermione smiling at that idiot Weasley. She liked him, she liked him more than a friend. Why did he feel so bad? His chest hurt. This wasn't anything like the time she had that monstrous crush on Lockhart, and it was only last year. This was something entirely different.

Why hadn't he seen it before? Now that he knew it was so obvious. Hermione never really paid any attention when people made fun of her, but was always hurt when Weasley was the one hurting her. He was her soft spot. Draco knew because he was usually the one picking up the pieces for her when she was hurt.

How could he have not realised?

"Draco!" Theo slapped him on the back of the head. "Wake up!"

He blinked. They were in the Room of Requirement, trying to recreate another Patronus. Ever since last Saturday, Draco hadn't been able to conjure up the scorpion again. It was impossible. He couldn't focus on a happy memory long enough, because all those memories were of her, and they always morphed into something else, into the image of her at the carriage with Weasley.

"Sorry," he groaned and pulled himself off the floor.

"What's with you?" Theo grumbled. "You've been weird since Hogsmeade."

He noticed? Draco wasn't surprised. Theo noticed everything. It was one of his more dangerous qualities because he didn't often let on just how much he noticed. Sometimes Draco reckoned if Theo wanted, he could be the world's best blackmailer, or spy.

"It's nothing. I just haven't been sleeping well." That wasn't necessarily a lie. Draco hadn't been sleeping well. The dreams were coming more frequently these days.

This on top of his revelation over Hermione, it was a wonder he hadn't been admitted into Saint Mungo's.

Sometimes, when he sat up sweating in his bed from a particularly bad one, he knew that he should go to someone about the dreams. He was actually scared.

But then, when he was fully awake and thinking lucidly, he would realise that even if he wanted to, he couldn't. The dreams felt too personal to just tell someone. He wasn't ready.

Theo sighed and slumped back into an armchair that had suddenly magically appeared. "Let's just call it a day."

Draco nodded gratefully and pulled himself into a Slytherin green armchair as Theo summoned a pitcher of pumpkin juice from the room.

Draco sat back and massaged his temple, another migraine coming on. He'd been getting them a lot recently. Mostly it was the dreams' fault. In the past two months he'd had seven and since Draco didn't usually dream, each time he did it only turned into a nightmare.