A.N. This is a complete and utter AU fic. I’ve made some grammar corrections and changed a few sentences
here and there. So basically I’ve edited the prologue. I’ll answer some of the questions or comments I have
relieved in the next chapter’s author’s note. Thanks to those who reviewed. You’ve made my day. Oh yeah
I’m looking for beta-readers so if you are interested write a review and tell me there.

Sleep Above The Clouds

by serendipity
 
 

Prologue
réminiscence
 
 

"All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream."
- Edgar Allen Poe
 

Five years have passed since I last smiled with the naïve innocence of a 6 years old child. Five
years have passed since I last felt the warmth of the morning rays. Five long years have passed
since I felt my heart wrench in pain and be ripped to pieces. I will never forget that day and I’ll
be damned if I ever forget the years that followed. The therapy, the drugs, the pain, and the cruel
dose of reality that finally set in after 6 months in St. Mungos. Hermione Granger had died right
in front of my very own eyes.
 

Flashback: 5 years ago (Reflection)

I was six at the time when mum had announced the Grangers and the Potters were coming for a
visit. I remember distinctively that night I had stayed up late past my bedtime to plan the mischief
the three of us would create. Back then, I was a spoiled rich little brat who had everything presented
to him on a silver platter. Life was good. I had a loyal friend that I’ve known since I was a baby, a
mansion located on a countryside estate, and even a pixie faced fiancée that I would tease incessantly.

Yes I was engaged at age six. It wasn’t as if I had a choice since my parents had arranged it at the
time of our births. The Malfoy heir was to marry the princess of the Granger family with Potter as
his best man. Mum and dad would always banter on and on about our futures and the glamorous
wedding we would have. They really needed to make new friends and get out more. It’s not that I’m
complaining but having three pairs of parents breathing down your neck to be a gentlemen towards
a girl who you would one day marry is not my idea of fun. I did love her though.

Harry was the third person in our dynamic trio. Even though he’s my ‘best friend in the whole wide
world’, a title in which he had dubbed upon himself on my third birthday, he pissed me off to no end
with his endless need to be valiant and brave in front of, well everyone. Fine, it wasn’t in front of
everyone and he wasn’t exactly a short little midget show off but still I hated it when Potter was
playing hero around my Hermione.

There was the time, we were three and the fantastic trio had gone out for ice cream after my birthday
party. As always, Hermione had a double scoop of strawberry fudge and vanilla swirl ice cream. Just
as she was about to take her first lick of the sweet frozen mounds of fruity goodness, the blasted thing
toppled over on to the ground with a little thwack for sound effects upon impact. Then came the water
works and man did the girl have an extremely loud set of pipes. I tried calming her down by offering
her my own ice cream cone only to have it land directly on top of hers on the ground when she had
heard what flavor it was. Apparently, I forgot that she hadn’t yet acquired an addiction towards the
bitter taste of mocha flavored coffee ice cream. Damn the venomous vender who had sold us these
wretched frozen desserts.

Till this day I still haven’t forgiven Potter for what happened next. Harry and his oh so obnoxious
and generous self came prancing along with his luscious triple fudge chocolate ice cream. Immediately,
I saw Hermione’s eyes light up with delight when he had offered it too her. I watched with envy when
the boy wonder had turned an unflattering shade of bright red after receiving a kiss on the right cheek
from the petite girl. Traitorous fiend. That should have been my kiss. Mine! He had stolen all my glory
and was later praised by the adults when we had returned. Now that I think of it, that malicious
chocolate treat better not has been licked before he had given it to Hermione. Oh…….Potter, we
are so going to have a little talk when I see you again. Indirect kiss, my arse.

Anyway, back to the topic at hand. The last summer when the three of us were still together, my
relationship with Hermione progressed to the stage in which we could now say ‘I love you’ to each
other. To bad I didn’t really understand the true meaning of those words until it was too late. Despite
the sickening attention we were getting from strangers, we had managed to survive their irksome
comments and pinching. When will old people learn that the cheeks in which they pinch will hurt
like hell if they do not let go?

Surprisingly to say, even though Harry and I had teased Hermione, I had never experienced the
weird stage of ‘kindergarten love confession.’ At least that’s what I call it. I didn’t really understand
the whole ‘if you like a girl, pull her ponytails, push her down, and then run away’ idea that muggles
believe in to be cute. Actually I find it to be quite disturbing. Hermione didn’t even have ponytails
for crying out loud.

Harry had always whined that I didn’t play with him enough when he visited me. It made sense
since that was the time that Hermione came to the manor as well. Our parents were keen on the
huge gathering type of entertainment.

The lack of attention I was paying Harry really couldn’t be helped. It’s not that I was depriving or
segregating him from any of our activities but I guess I was just a tad bit more absorbed into Hermione
than Harry. Well wouldn’t everyone prefer a cherub faced angel over a, well a Harry.

Everywhere we went the three of us would all go together. We were truly the best of friends,
comrades, amigos, and whatever other language a person can say the word ‘friends’ in. Only you
wouldn’t normally hold your friend’s hand everywhere you went. And I’m not talking about Harry.
Hermione was my girlfriend, fiancée to be exact, and I loved her with all the love a 6 six years old
boy can muster within his fragile heart. She affected me in ways I can’t explain. It was like she was
a part of me.

She kissed me when we were four. It was Christmas and she told me she had gotten me a present.
I, of course, being the future husband and charming lad that I am, had given her a ring. Not just any
ring though. I am a Malfoy after all. Actually, I had made it with the magic that I had learned to
control. Liquid silver was shaped by the power that I have wielded since birth into a simple yet
elegant band of cool metal. I was so proud for I had done it without a wand, but the process was
also immensely laborious in order to perform a trick like this at the tender age of four. However,
my toil was well worth its trouble when I had seen Hermione’s face. In a way, it was a promise ring
that I would indeed marry her. Not because it was due to our parents’ arrangement but due to the
fact that we were meant to be together forever. I found out later that forever didn’t last very long…

Moonlight reflected off the smooth surface of the ring as I gently slid it onto her slender finger.
That was when she told me she had gotten me a gift as well. Meekly, she told me to close my
eyes and I had obeyed without a second thought, thinking that it was a surprise. Boy was I shocked
when I felt warm lips upon my own. It a brief and chaste kiss that held the promise of sugary delights
in the years to come. Simply conveying to us the mere understanding that she was mine and I, hers.
There was no tongue, no explosion, nor was there any provocative innuendo that would scandalize
our virtuous image.

That night, mum had allowed us to sleep together on my bed. I think she freaked when she saw
us kissing though, but she relented in the end. We snuggled closer towards each other when a
cold blast of wind blew in through the balcony doors. I embraced her within my arms and we fell
asleep dreaming of a land filled with delicious candy delicacies.

End Flashback
 

That was a long time ago. A time in which I didn’t know what soul mates or death was. I hate
what I have become but I can’t change back into that little boy anymore. He died with her and
there will never be another to replace her.

Look there’s Harry. He’s waving from the gate terminal. I’m starting my first year at Hogwarts
today. I wonder what house I’ll be in. Hermione would be proud of me if I became Head Boy
when I’m older… I guess I’ll just have to become Head Boy then.
 
 
 

A.N.: Don’t forget to review. I would like some feedback for my fic. Hopefully the next chapter
will be out soon. ^o^
 

Chapter 1