Notes: I was challenged to write something, no more than 15 or 30 mins of writing, a H/D drabble just to get me back to writing something. She suggested something V-Day ish or summery but, well, this is what came out...
Dedication: To Kim, for whippin' my arse into shape and getting me to write, even if it is only a little bit. *hugs* Thank you, babe. You never cease in making me smile. And maybe I will get to that sequel... some time... *wink*

Daydreaming

By Katie of Gryffindor

Draco lay along his broom, hovering a few feet above the ground one night, daydreaming. It was a past-time he loved indulging in, but he didn't usually find time, save once a week.

After Friday afternoon Quidditch practices, his teammates were always sure to be scampering off to prepare for one date or another. Draco never cared much who slept with whom, he only cared about the lovely blackmail material the information always made.

Draco refused to rush in to the showers on those evenings. He knew that those were the only times he'd have the pitch to himself for at least an hour or two. Those evenings were his daydreaming times.

Tonight, his head had decided to concentrate itself on a single daydream. One that disturbed him significantly, but snubbed his every attempt to push it away in favor of a new topic.

Those bloody bright eyes and that damnable hair. Draco despised it so. Or at least, that was what he'd always thought. But in tonight's daydreams, those eyes were far closer to his than they should be. And that hair was completely tangled up around his slim fingers. Draco was sure that if these dreams were real, that ghastly hair would be sure to tie itself around his fingers just for spite.

And why were those eyes so bloody close? Because the bloody lips just below were firmly attached to his. He couldn't figure out why his mind had chosen tonight to drive him mad with these images, but oddly enough, he wasn't complaining nearly as much as he should've been.

In fact, Draco was damn near loving what his mind had rustled up for his viewing pleasure. As confusing as it was, the daydreams of tonight were much more vivid, more enticing than most he'd had. The dreams varied in intensity of his and his companion's actions, and in their venues, but the realism of them never wavered in the slightest.

Draco was in the midst of a very hot-and-heavy snogging session atop Snape's desk when a sudden gust of wind sailed past him, jarring his broom, and bringing him out of the fantasy and back to reality. His eyes snapped open and upwards in the direction of that whoosh of air.

"Bloody hell, Potter! Don't you have any kind of decency?" he snarled, urging his broom up to be level with the object of his supreme hatred, and new daydreams.

Potter was smirking irritatingly, watching Draco as he rose up from his former position. "Oh, I'm so sure I disturbed something blindingly important just then."

Draco glared. "For your information, Potter, this is my time on the pitch. Everyone knows it is." He made a shooing gesture at Potter in the hopes that the nuisance that was Potter would have finally learned some kind of manners since he'd arrived at Hogwarts and would just go away. "If you please-"

Of course, Draco had no such luck. "Actually, no. The schedule says the pitch is free and clear. So I'll be staying. You're more than welcome to stay on and enjoy your half of the field while I enjoy mine-"

"No thank you, Potter. I'll not have my time disrupted by the likes of you. I'm leaving." Draco threw Potter a death-glare and pointed himself to the ground. As his feet were carrying him to the locker rooms, he heard Potter call down to him. But it was what Potter said that really made his footsteps falter.

"Your loss, Malfoy. If you ever want to moan my name because of more than just your dreams, do owl me and let me know."