"ARRGHH!" Malfoy woke with a start, sweat covering his whole body.
A dream - no a fucking nightmare! - like he'd never had before.
Fancying Potter! SHAGGING POTTER! He needed to owl his mother and organise a mind healer to meet him in Hogsmead this coming weekend. Fortunately it was only two days, but still.
He briefly considered if some potion or a substance had been slipped to him at dinner? Unlikely as the house elves would never allow it.
Chalk it up to experience and NEVER tell his father was best way to go.

Despite multiple sessions with various mind healers, Malfoy could not throw off the recurring dreams till end of school year.
He'd ended up a nervous wreak as even Pompfrey's dreamless sleep potions refused to work. They were vivid, detailed, varied and oh so damn realistic!
He was listless, hardly slept and failed half his end of year exams. It had taken most of his father's influence, calling in multiple favours and a fifty thousand galleon contribution to the schools muggleborn education fund to keep him with his year mates. Having to repeat a year would mean so much loss of face, as to be fatal in Slytherin political circles.
The rage in his father's face and him snapping his cane in half, when stood in headmaster's office, as Dumbledore exceeding politely suggested that muggle fund donation, would never leave him. If this continued next year, he'd find himself at Durmstrang before christmas.

As it was he expected extreme punishments from father during two month summer holidays. And of course Lucius Malfoy's punishments were nothing to laugh at. While nowhere near as pain inducing or sadistic as his aunt's famous rages, the prospect of facing those subtle paternal tortures made his blood run cold.
It was ALL POTTER'S FAULT! But the Gryffindor had ignored him since before that first dream. He couldn't imagine that stinking scarhead keeping silent if he had been involved? Mudblood bitch Granger wouldn't break the rules like that and Weasel was too stupid to accomplish anything so subtle.

Draco's problems disappeared during July and August at Malfoy Manor, but returned with avengeance after arriving back at Hogwarts. He was packed off to the Scandinavian school before beginning of October. Lack of rest, disorientation and nerves caused him to vomit on arrival by portkey. That had been an ominous start to his new placement.

It took a further eight months to become free if those accursed dreams of being with Potter, marrying Potter, HAVING POTTERS BABIES and afterwards he never worked out where these perverse visions came from?
He had a very mediocre academic career at Durmstrang's and left England for good after he graduated. The humiliation of bumping into any of his former Hogwart's schoolmates coloring his choice. His going bald at twenty didn't help matters - he put that down to stress of his father being chucked in Azkban and losing three quarters of Malfoy fortune to fines. Living in Austria he found some success as a potions and powders trader. He never had any desire to marry, as any sexual contact with others made him picture Potter's face as they were in throws of passion.

Voldemort's feeble attempt to return in 2041 was crushed by The Order of the Eternal Phoenix and Dumbledore's Legacy muggleborn group's Horcrux neutralizers. Harry Potter's soul fragment having been removed years earlier at St. Mungo's under supervision of Hermione Granger-Weasley and her daughter Rose Longbottom.

Draco Malfoy passed away from a nasty strain of dragon pox in his ninety third year. Bald, wrinkled, bent and with sunken features, his remains could've been mistaken for a very tall house elf. Only two extremely distant relatives attended his funeral, and then that was mainly to see if he'd left any gold. It was not to be, as what little he owned was eaten up by providing him with care in those last few years.

(Fred and George's replacement of Draco's haircream with one of their more potent products was never detected. It was only revealed in 2136 at reading of the late Fred's will. Their nine hundred relatives and friends filling the Brighton & Hove Quidditch stadium pissed themselves laughing for almost an hour! Harry had to be taken to New St. Mungo's for the strain on his elderly chest, but recovered in a couple of days. For generations to come people would go out of their way to taunt a large portrait of Lucius and his son, that still hung in a quite corner of the Ministry atrium.)
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Drabbles or dribbles? Hard to tell really.

Both chapters were entirely beautiful! I can't express my love for your writing! Please do update again soon...?

Alec