He doesn't know when he's accepted that Hermione Granger was trapped in his mind.
He thought at first that he might just have gone as mad as his aunt, dreaming of the dead girl that he was ordered to kill.
It was his fault, he later realized.
For staring into her eyes that night.
For reaching out with his mind so she wouldn't feel lonely when she died.
For whispering Avada Kedavra, with no wish for her pain or death, only peace she wouldn't have gotten with his aunt.
He wonders if she remembers.
He wonders if she's content here, haunting his rest, just an echo of the mind of Hermione Granger.
---
"It's dark when you're not here", she murmered against the skin of his neck
"I'm sorry" is all he can say, vowing to always return to her as soon as he can. The dark lord has little need for him now, after all. Britain is his.
---
"Am I real?" she once asked.
He stared and wondered then if her eyes have always been that golden, or if this was just how he wanted to remember them.
He captured her lips, and pushed into her, willing her to feel the beat of his heart.
"This is real. You're mine." he groaned, right before he woke up.
----
Dreams never really make sense. Time passed in ways unknown to them.
Sometimes, they'd spend minutes just pressing promises against each others lips, before Draco jolts awake, alone in his bed.
But on rare occasions, they'd spend years with each other.
A night that spans a lifetime they'd never have.
Once or twice, there were even children. Happy giggles would chase him in his waking hours.
By the time he's out of bed, he's desperately clinging to the details of their faces, willing himself to never forget.
It was their brown eyes that would stare back at him later that day, when he casts the killing curse on an innocent child
By sundown, they were nothing but half- forgotten melodies, just blurred features that he knew he loved.
Draco mourned them for weeks.
----
Draco always regrets waking.
He'd even taken potions that might keep him with her longer. Always, the potions distorted his dreams, rendering him lost and heavy in his own mind.
On nights he doesn't dream, he wakes up wondering if she'd left him.
Tonight, he enters the dream in the last place he wanted to be, with Hermione standing in the Manor's drawing room.
If he closed his eyes, he could almost see where her body fell that night.
"Draco" she said, looking at him with mournful eyes.
"Hermione. Come, love. Let's get out of this room. I'll show you my library." His heart was in his throat.
"Draco." she whispered again, "Are we real?"