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Seven times Dream and George have kissed

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Dream has always been a kid who loved deeply; his parents have told him so much at early age.

He has loved their home, he has loved his small room under the attic. He has loved their cat so he allowed her to share his bed with him. He has loved his younger sister and since she has been merely a toddler, Dream was watching over her like a guardian angel.

When Dream loved, it was strong and powerful and with all of his heart. It was glowing ember and roaring fire. It was tender sparks and soft flames. It was in his eyes, his heart and his entire soul.

At first, Dream did not notice that he loved. He just felt like the boy with dark brown hair and eyes like chocolate looked so lost on the large platform at King’s Cross that he just had to speak to him and take him under his wing.

He knew that his open and bubbly nature made him seem annoying to some, but the boy – George, he told him – only smiled at him brightly and nodded when Dream offered him that they could share a train compartment on their long ride to Hogwarts.

Evidently, Dream’s childhood friend Sapnap joined them with a wide grin full of excitement and mischief and just like that, a group of friends was born that would be known as the Dream Team for many years to come. Nothing, not even being sorted into different Hogwarts houses, would ever tear them apart.

And nothing would ever restrict the tender love beginning to bloom in Dream’s childlike heart like a tiny seed slowly turning into the most beautiful flower.

 

 

The first time Dream kissed George was by accident.

It was early spring of their first year in Hogwarts and the children were enjoying the first warming sun rays at the shore of the Great Lake. Sitting in the grass, Dream, George and Sapnap were talking about everything and nothing, complaining about Snape and homework, hyping up the next quidditch match and bickering about who did best in Transfiguration.

“Turning a match into a needle wasn’t even hard,” Sapnap claimed and raised his chin proudly.

“It wasn’t, huh?” Dream snickered. “I don’t think that you’re supposed to set a needle on fire though.”

George giggled behind the book he brought with him and Sapnap darted an insulted glance at him, “You shut up.”

Still giggling, George shut his book with a bang and declared exaggeratingly, “Of course, I wouldn’t know anything about that. I haven’t been the one to make it in just two tries, either.”

“Show-off,” Sapnap grumbled and pouted. “Stupid Ravenclaw.”

“Brains over muscles,” George teased him with a nudge of his elbow.

Sapnap yelped, but glared back with a snort, “You know what? I’m gonna go anit-mainstream. I’m gonna say muscles over brain now.”

“Really?” Dream grinned widely. “So how does it feel not having either of them?”

Before Sapnap could react, Dream was doubling over, howling with laughter.

Grumpily, Sapnap crossed his arms in front of his chest and decided to pout again, “You don’t have either of them as well. Remember that George had to write your Herbology essay?”

“Which I’m not gonna do again,” George emphasized.

“Still, you didn’t help me with Potions,” Sapnap continued complaining.

While Dream was slowly recovering from his fit of laughter, George rolled his eyes and rose to his knees to lean closer to his blond friend, “Come here, you idiot, your collar is all messed up.”

Delicate fingers were brushing Dream’s neck when George worked on pulling the collar of his white shirt right and straightening his green and silver tie.

All of a sudden, Dream felt a hand grab the back of his hair and force his head forward in quick motion. Dream’s eyes widened, but he was not the only one. George’s head jerked forward as well and Dream already saw their noses collide.

Out of instinct, he turned his head ever so slightly to avoid a painful collision. Even though he could not prevent their noses sliding against each other on the brink of being hurtful, the main impact was caught by their lips that met in the middle.

Immediately, Dream jerked back again, and George, too, ripped his eyes wide open and jumped to his feet, “Sapnap!”

Now it was Sapnap’s time to burst out laughing and mumbling something about how his two best friends were always agreeing with each other so they could also get over with it and marry already, but his laughter died down quickly.

In the blink of an eye, Dream was on his feet, too. Now it was Dream and George’s turn to laugh while they were chasing their panicking friend around the Great Lake.

 

 

The second time Dream kissed George was deliberate.

It happened close to the end of their second year while both boys were sitting in the quietness of the library. While Dream was already struggling to push only one of many subjects into his brain, the table opposite of him was groaning under the weight of two dozen books that George had piled up around him. There was only a tiny space for some parchment in their middle on which he occasionally scribbled some notes.

It was distracting that Dream simply had to lift his head and could watch George working. It was also a lot more tempting than studying.

“Hey, did you know that Sapnap kissed that girl from Hufflepuff last night?” Dream finally broke the silence, his voice quiet to not disturb the peaceful ambience of the library.

George looked up from his work with an annoyed frown on his face, “Dream, I’m trying to study.” Still, he could not suppress a hint of curiosity when he added, “The one who has sent him the talking flowers on Valentine’s day? His roommates have been complaining in Charms that the flowers wouldn’t shut up for days.”

“Yeah, that girl,” Dream leant back on his chair. “He says it was good, but he is lying.”

George tilted his head to the side, “How do you know?”

“He has to be lying,” Dream claimed. “Can you imagine kissing to be pleasant?”

“I mean, people do so all the time,” George shrugged.

“Come on, it has to be nasty,” the twelve-year-old Slytherin continued his thought. “All this saliva … and imagine the girl you kiss has eaten garlic!”

“Gross,” George agreed and finally put his quill to the side.

“Yeah,” Dream nodded. “I can’t believe Sap is lying to us! I can’t – ”

“Shush!”

Both boys winced when Madam Pince rushed around the corner to give them a death glare. They quickly turned back to their work and waited until she was gone again before George peeked up, “And what if Sapnap really likes her?”

“Then he’d break our code,” Dream pouted. “Remember? We promised not to kiss any girls in Hogwarts back in our first week. And definitely not to enjoy it!”

Slowly, George tilted his head, “But what if it is actually nice?”

“You serious?” Dream stared at him agape.

“I don’t know,” George avoided his glance. His cheeks were glowing red. “Maybe it really is, how can we now?”

“Simple,” Dream leant across the table and motioned George to do the same.

Hesitantly, the boy stood up and leant closer as well.

Quickly, Dream grabbed his face with both his hands and pressed his lips to George’s. They were warm and soft and they were trembling ever so slightly.

Dream waited for a few more seconds before pulling back. Involuntarily, he pulled his lower lip between his teeth.

George’s face was even redder than before and he let out a nervous giggle, “Okay, I get it. That was pretty bad.”

“Hey,” Dream frowned. Suddenly, George’s words that he would have agreed to in any other situation were nagging at him. “I can’t be that bad.”

“Well, I didn’t feel any butterflies so you have to be pretty bad,” George defended himself with a smirk.

“Idiot,” Dream mumbled and turned back to his work.

Surely, the giddy tingles in his stomach were not butterflies, either.

 

 

The third time Dream kissed George was a dare.

After the victory of the Ravenclaw quidditch team in their third year, the group of friends had assembled in George and Wilbur’s room in the Ravenclaw tower. Aside from the Ravenclaws, this group counted Dream, Sapnap and another close friend of Sapnap, a Hufflepuff named Karl. Karl had even sneaked some butterbeer out of the kitchen together with Sapnap which made Dream like him instantly.

The hot beverage warmed his insides and even though Slytherin had lost the quidditch match, he was so pleased to be sitting together with his friends that he even agreed to play some stupid muggle game called Truth or Dare that George, Wilbur and Karl had been talking about. At least, Sapnap was just as clueless as him.

“And you really do that for fun?” Sapnap grumbled and darted an incredulous glance at his halfblood friend Karl. Funnily, their friendship had been blossoming from a shared detention as they had blown up a cauldron in Snape’s Potions class by accident.

“Muggles around our age play it all the time,” Wilbur, another halfblood, answered.

George, who was born from muggles, nodded in agreement and muttered something which sounded like clueless purebloods. For that, Sapnap looked tempted to pour the rest of his drink down George’s collar.

“Okay, I’m gonna start, I’m gonna start,” Karl exclaimed enthusiastically. “George, you go first. Truth or Dare?”

Dream frowned while he was still trying to make sense out of the game.

“Truth,” George replied immediately.

“You’re lame,” Sapnap snickered.

“You didn’t even know the game five minutes ago,” George countered.

“I don’t care, you’re lame,” Sapnap insisted.

You’re lame,” George snorted.

“Your mother is lame,” Sapnap snickered.

George frowned, “You don’t know Truth or Dare, but you know your-mum-jokes?”

“Guys, hold your breath,” Wilbur interrupted them impatiently.

“So, George,” Karl rubbed his hands. “Which of the girls in our year do you find the cutest?”

“Which girl …” George frowned again. “I don’t know, none.”

“None?” Karl echoed, his voice swinging with disbelief.

“Come on, that doesn’t count,” Wilbur complained. “There has to be one.”

“I don’t know,” George shrugged. “If I had to choose, I would say … uh … maybe that Gryffindor girl sitting two seats away in Charms? The one with the dirty blonde curls?”

“You don’t even know her name,” Sapnap snorted.

“I said I don’t know,” George shot back. “Come on, Sap, Truth or Dare?”

“Dare!” Sapnap replied at once.

“I dare you to hex Snape stinks onto the board in Potions next Tuesday,” George ordered which made Karl and Wilbur chuckle gleefully.

“Merlin, George, you’re nasty,” Dream snickered to what George only smirked.

“What? That’s not fair,” Sapnap complained and let himself fall back onto the carpet with a defeated groan. “I’m gonna get detention again.”

“Not if you don’t get caught,” George answered mischievously.

“Dickhead,” Sapnap muttered quietly before sitting up again. “Dream, Truth or Dare?”

Dream hesitated for a moment, but he did not want to look more scared than his Gryffindor friend so he also settled for, “Dare.”

Frowning, Sapnap tapped his fingers against his chin before a cruel grin spread on his lips, “Dream, I’m sorry for that, bro, but I want George to suffer. So Dream, I dare you to kiss George.”

“That’s not fair, you can’t come back at me with a task for Dream!” George complained.

“Says who?” Sapnap countered.

“The rules,” George claimed.

“Actually, I don’t think there are any real rules for Truth or Dare,” Wilbur stated with a frown.

“Thank you, Wilbur,” George snorted sarcastically. “Very helpful.”

Karl snickered.

“C’mon, George,” Dream rolled his eyes. “Sapnap could’ve been a lot meaner. To both of us.”

“Still, that’s stupid,” George grumbled, but raised his eyebrows expectantly with a sigh. “Let’s get done with it.”

Under the eyes of their friends, Dream swallowed hard and leant across the small circle they had formed in between the beds. George’s dark eyes were strangely irritating and made him hesitate for a moment.

“Are you chickening out?” Sapnap called.

“Of course not,” Dream snapped back and leant forward to place a quick peck on George’s lips. A strange tingling sensation in his own lips made him pull back immediately.

“Wow, that was anti-climatic,” Karl commented.

“Was it?” George turned towards him and rubbed the sleeve of his robe over his lips. “You go kiss Dream next time then.”

“Your turn, Dream,” Dream heard Wilbur say to him.

“Huh?” he blinked.

“Your turn,” Wilbur repeated.

 

 

The fourth time Dream kissed George was hexed.

Dream had always felt torn as far as it concerned the fuss that Dumbledore made out of events like Valentine’s Day, Halloween or Christmas. On the one hand, it was breathtaking to see Hogwarts bloom from magic, but on the other hand, many of the small surprises that Dumbledore had up his sleeve were quite annoying.

Counting the mistletoes.

During the days before Christmas, Dream had always been careful to avoid said green branches that seemed to have spread everywhere in the castle’s corridors. The thing about hexed mistletoes was that they cast a spell on always two of their clueless victims who stepped underneath them, gluing them to the ground until their lips touched in order to resolve the spell.

Evidently, everybody in the castle seemed eager to lure their crush under a mistletoe. It was quite annoying. Only with the help of Karl, Dream had been able to avoid some Gryffindor girl from the year under him who tried to talk him into crossing a hexed doorway with her.

“One day, all those books are gonna break your back,” Dream sighed while he was walking through the corridors one evening.

Without the weight of half a dozen books that George had just returned to the library, his best friend was able to keep up with his quick pace much easier. Rolling his eyes, George just snapped at him, “Ah, shut your mouth.”

Dream only giggled.

You will be the one crying for my notes at the end of the year," George pointed his index finger at him accusingly before looking around in the empty hallways. Almost everybody must have already gone to the Great Hall. "By the way, where’s Sapnap? He has been with us back in the library, hasn't he? Already at dinner?”

“Nah, third floor together with Quackity,” Dream chuckled. “They try to lure Filch under a mistletoe.”

“Filch as in awful-caretaker-Filch-with-his-horrible-cat-Mrs-Norris?” George grimaced. “Wouldn’t have thought they’d be into that type of guy.”

“No, idiot, not with themselves, of course,” Dream rolled his eyes. “With Snape.”

To that, George burst out laughing and Dream, too, could not hold back his laughter. The image alone was simply hilarious.

“They will be in so much trouble for that,” George squeezed out in between his laughter. “Just imagine how mad Snape and Filch are gonna be.”

“Yeah, I don’t wanna be in their skin for the detention they will get,” Dream mused. “Hey, I was wondering – ”

Never in his life did Dream have difficulties with flying before. Having grown up in a pureblood family, he had learnt flying a broom at the early age of five and he had almost made it on the Slytherin quidditch team during this year’s try-outs.

Evidently, he would not even have considered that one day, he would have trouble walking.

From one second to another, Dream was unable to move his feet. It felt like his soles had been glued to the ground and he almost stumbled due to the sudden resistance, nearly falling over.

George was not so lucky. Being held back by the same invisible force, he lost balance and had to support his weight with his hands on the ground in order to avoid kissing the floor. He stayed like that for a second before slowly rising up again and looking around in confusion, “What the hell was that?”

Suddenly, Dream’s mouth felt very dry. Together with George, he lifted his gaze to the ceiling.

There was the culprit, hanging a few feet above their heads and wreathing across the ceiling like a green snake, innocently illuminated by the dim light of the castle corridors.

“A mistletoe,” Dream whispered.

“I am colour-blind, not blind-blind, idiot,” George bit back, but his voice was missing the usual strength.

“Uh … right,” Dream stuttered. Sweat collected in his palms and he resisted the urge to wipe them dry on his cloak. “So … uh …” His heart was beating violently. Why was he suddenly so nervous? There were many people much worse to be stuck with underneath a mistletoe than one of his best friends.

With a fluent motion, George pulled out his wand and pointed it towards his feet. His voice was weak when he tried, “Diffindo!”

Just as expected, he still could not move an inch. With a sigh, he put his wand back, “It was worth a try though.”

Awkwardly, Dream cleared his throat and allowed himself to wipe his sweaty palms against the cloth of his pants, “I guess we need to … um, well … you know, can … Can I kiss you then?”

Maybe it was the dim light, but maybe, George’s cheeks were actually painted in a weak shade of pink when he raised his eyebrows, “Well, yes, obviously. I don’t plan on staying here overnight. I’m hungry, I want to go to dinner.”

Dream suppressed a snort, but at least, George’s annoyance was something familiar he could grasp on. Still, he breathed in deeply when he turned to the side awkwardly due to his hexed feet and leant down.

The last thing he saw were George’s widened eyes before their lips met.

Dream was not sure whether the magic of the mistletoe required the kiss to only be a simple peck or not, but his every thought was blown away immediately. The softness of George’s lips was painfully familiar and made his chest ache.

George was trembling against him. When he started to pull back far too quickly, it felt like he was pulling the strings on Dream’s heart with him.

In a desperate attempt to hold the moment just a little longer, Dream chased his friend’s lips and reached out to hold his nape with gentle hands. Ever so hesitantly, George started to move his own lips and kiss him back.

Dream was so sure his legs would give out any moment and he would stumble back, just to sink down onto the ground in a molten puddle.

He … could stumble back?

“Hey, we can move again!” Dream pulled back and made some testing steps to each side. His nerves were still buzzing wildly and he could not suppress a high-spirited laugh.

A deep red was colouring George’s cheeks when he avoided his eyes and continued his way to dinner in silence. Quickly, Dream hurried after him.

 

 

The fifth time Dream kissed George was in delirium.

Dream woke up in a bed in the hospital wing.

There was not much he remembered. It had been his second match as a chaser of the Slytherin quidditch team in the middle of his fifth year. After they had narrowly lost to Ravenclaw before, he had been convinced to win their next match against Gryffindor at all cost. What he had not expected was being knocked off his broom in mid-air.

“He’s waking up,” he heard a distant voice say.

“Dream?” somebody else asked.

“How are you feeling?” a third voice added.

The sterile smell of the hospital wing stung in his nose. Groaning, he blinked a few times to clear his blurred sight.

“Like I took a bludger to the head,” Dream managed to croak. His voice sounded hoarse and his head was pounding terribly.

“I guess that’s on me,” one of the voices replied sheepishly. “Sorry, big man.”

Dream blinked again. The blurred red in front of his eyes merged into two Gryffindor quidditch uniforms.

One of them was worn by Sapnap who was looking down on him with a worried frown. He had not even taken off his bandana that he used to wear every time when flying to keep the hair out of his eyes.

The other one belonged to a boy with blond curls who was a few years younger than him. When their eyes crossed, he grimaced, “Believe me, as much as I have wished to smash your snake brains in the past, this one wasn’t on purpose.”

“Shut up, Tommy,” Sapnap interrupted him bluntly.

Next to the two Gryffindors, two of Dream’s teammates were looking down on him in worry.

“Are you good?” one of them asked.

“Pomfrey told us you have a concussion and a broken leg, but it’s nothing she can’t fix,” the other one added. “You’ve been out for half an hour though, scared us pretty bad.”

“I’m … ouch … fine.” Dream grimaced when he moved his head and another sharp pain shot through his nerves. “Did we win?”

Sapnap snorted, but Dream’s teammates were grinning wildly, “With two hundred points ahead. We got the snitch only five minutes after you were out.”

“Keep gloating over your victory and I’ll smash your head, too,” Tommy muttered.

Dream was aware that it had been Tommy’s first match as he and Sapnap were only on reserve positions as beaters. Gryffindor’s new main beaters this year, the Weasley twins, had managed to get themselves into detention for this day though, and Dream felt really sorry for Tommy that the boy’s first match had taken such a turn.

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it,” he croaked and tried a weak smile. “I’m fine.”

“You are fine when I tell you so,” Madam Pomfrey’s sharp voice interrupted them. With a small bottle in her hand, she rushed over and waved impatiently with her other hand as if she wanted to chase an annoying fly away. “The boy needs rest, off you go.”

“Later, buddy.” Sapnap gave him an encouraging smile and clapped his shoulder which made Dream grimace slightly. “Get back on your feet fast, I’ll kill you if you let me finish our Potions project alone.”

Dream chuckled as he watched them leave, Tommy bickering with Dream’s teammates although they were at least a head taller than the Gryffindor boy.

Still, he could not shake off a feeling that was nagging deep inside of him. Where was George?

 

The sleeping potion hit him hard. Immediately, Dream was knocked out for the rest of the day and continued to sleep through half of the night. When he woke up again, his surroundings were blurry and everything was moving so slow as if the whole world was wrapped in cotton.

He knew that he was probably still dealing with the effects of the potion that tempted him to sink back into sleep, but something caught his eye and made him stay at the brink of consciousness.

For a moment, he was sure he was still dreaming, but when he closed and opened his eyes again, the figure sitting on a chair right next to his bed was still there.

His throat terribly dry, Dream managed to croak, “G-George?”

“How are you doing?” a familiar voice whispered back gently.

“How are you here?” Dream blinked again, but his brain was still so incredibly foggy. “What … What time is it?”

“Almost 1 a.m.” For a moment, Dream could see the soft smile on George’s face which was dimly illuminated by the moonlight coming through the windows. “I snuck in.”

Only slowly, he processed George’s words, “You … snuck in? That … is why Dumbledore made Wilbur prefect instead of you.”

George laughed quietly, “Shut up, you idiot.”

The comfortable silence that arose made the fog in Dream’s head grow thicker. A quiet yawn escaped his lips and he buried deeper in his pillow, “’m still so t’red.”

“Get some more sleep,” George told him gently and rose from his chair. “I’ll come back tomorrow morning, okay?”

Dream tried to reach out to grab his arm, but his hand fell back onto the mattress weakly. The sleeping potion tightened its grasp around him and threatened to pull him back into the promising embrace of deep slumber.

“G’rge,” Dream slurred. “Stay.”

Through heavy eyelids, Dream watched George hesitate, “I don’t know, Dream. We could get in big trouble.”

“Don’t c’re,” Dream mumbled. It took all of his remaining strength to move to the side in order to make some space on the mattress next to him. He hardly felt the dull pain in his leg that he pulled with him. “C’mere. Pl’se.”

Some eternal seconds of silence and foggy thoughts passed.

Dream hardly perceived how the mattress dipped lower when George climbed into the bed next to him and slipped under the cover. A delicious warmth spread through every cell of his body.

“Are you comfortable?” George’s soft voice reached his ears from far away.

He was close though, so close. Through thick lashes and tired eyelids threatening to close any second, Dream could see George’s blurry features right next to him. He had to turn his head just slightly, just a little more …

Weakly, Dream let his lips brush against George’s as a silent thank you. He hardly noticed how the other boy winced, already carried away by heavy sleep.

Whatever trouble they would be getting into, he would deal with it tomorrow.

 

 

The sixth time Dream kissed George was in the heat of the moment.

Despite the new kid on the Gryffindor quidditch team, famous Harry Potter being a brilliant seeker, Slytherin won the cup in Dream’s sixth year.

Dream was on top of the world. It was his second year as a chaser and after the humiliation of being knocked out by Tommy’s bludger last year, they had really deserved this victory.

Circling around the pitch high up in the air, Dream gloated in the victory cheers from the stands as soon as their seeker caught the snitch and won the match for them. Even many feet above the stands, the noise was deafening.

In the distance near the Slytherin curve, he believed to see his sister jump into the air, joining the excited celebration. It was her first year at Hogwarts and Dream had been a little disappointed that she had not been sorted into the same house as him, but she had adapted fast and he was happy for her.

A few feet away, McGonagall was shaking Snape’s hand with a bitter look on her face.

“We did it!” Quackity screamed somewhere next to Dream. This year, his friend and roommate had finally made it on the team as one of the beaters.

Only narrowly, Dream could avoid his bat when Quackity raced towards him and flung his arms around his neck to squeeze him tightly, making his broom shake dangerously with the impact. The rest of their team joined them just a blink later and together, they sunk to the ground in an embrace of overjoyed cheers and hoarse screams.

They had done it. They had really done it.

They had won the match against Hufflepuff and they had won the cup.

“Let’s fucking go!” Quackity shouted directly into Dream’s ear.

The Slytherin curve on the stands had erupted into wild cheers and was almost exploding with excitement.

Nothing could compare to the adrenaline of a match and the thrill of a victory, Dream thought while he was hugging his teammates and screaming with them until his voice cracked.

In the distance, Dream caught a glimpse of Sapnap on the stands who was looking even more defeated than McGonagall. For a heartbeat, Dream felt a pang of sympathy in his chest. Gryffindor had been so close to winning the cup this year and Sapnap had to be devastated, but Dream also knew that despite all of his passion, his friend was a fair sportsman and would accept the defeat.

The figure of Karl stepped next to the Gryffindor and Dream watched him grab his hand. Sapnap gave him a soft smile in response, entirely different from his usual smirk. Huh.

Before Dream could watch them any longer, Wilbur had managed to push through the crowd that had been storming onto the pitch. The tall Ravenclaw blocked his view and pulled him into a tight hug, “Congratulations!”

“Thank you!” Dream squeezed back and had to laugh when two of his teammates were clapping on his shoulders so hard that it almost hurt.

When Wilbur was there, that had to mean that –

“Dream!”

“George!”

George tackled him with the force of a hippogriff when he flung his arms around his neck. Out of reflex, Dream wrapped his arms around his torso just as tightly.

A delighted squeak escaped George’s lips when he lost balance and was whirled around in the middle of the celebrating crowd, “You did it! You actually won!”

“We won!” Dream beamed back.

When George regained solid ground underneath his feet, they did not let go of each other. Sheer joy made Dream move forward to press a kiss to George’s cheek, but George turned his head right at the same time and the kiss landed on the corner of his mouth.

His eyes widened in surprise.

However, Dream did not have time to process anything. With full force, Quackity tore George away from him to hug – or rather strangle – him himself, “George! Have you seen how I hit that bludger? I was so sure to not get that fucker in time, but I made it!”

“Yeah, you were great!” George assured him and grinned at Dream over Quackity’s shoulder helplessly.

Dream only grinned back, so widely that his cheeks were hurting.

 

 

The seventh time Dream did not kiss George.

At the end of the sixth year, Dream’s biggest problems were the state of his old broom, his upcoming final exams in the next year and George.

Heavens, George.

Dream felt like he could not grasp a single clear thought. It was like he was drowning every second of the day, never being able to swim back up for air.

He was yearning.

He was yearning for George’s soft smiles and his delicate blush. He was yearning for their hands brushing underneath the table and George’s embarrassed chuckles when he messed up a spell in Transfiguration. He was yearning for George’s kisses like a dying man was yearning for water in the desert.

His parents had been right.

Dream loved deeply. Maybe too deeply.

At the end of the seventh year, Dream’s biggest problems had vanished.

His parents had gifted him a new broom for Christmas and his NEWTs were stored in the far back of his head. Even the George-problem, how he had named his unrequited feelings in his head, had been pushed back by the current events although somehow, George still managed to be part of these.

The chamber of secrets had been opened. Panic spread among the students, mysterious attacks began and a number of muggle-born students were petrified.

Dream remembered the day like a nightmare when McGonagall had taken him and Sapnap out of their Charms class and brought them to the hospital wing.

And there he was, his George, lying on a bed just as motionless as a lifeless corpse. Dream hardly paid attention to the bodies of a Ravenclaw and a Gryffindor girl next to him of whom he believed the latter was always hanging around with Harry Potter.

“Oh no,” he heard Sapnap whisper.

Desperation clawed at Dream’s heart and refused to move away, immobile and steady, in contrast to Dream himself who was rushing towards the bed to shake George’s hard shoulders as if he could wake him up. Empty eyes were staring right through him and delicate lips had opened, only to be silenced violently. He was cold, so cold, his soft features carved into harsh stone.

“George,” Dream remembered himself repeating his name all over again, his eyes burning with tears. “George. Come on, don’t do this to me. George!”

Madam Pomfrey had tried to calm him down. The potion to heal the petrified students was almost finished and it would merely take days, but Dream hardly listened to her.

He only left George’s bed for classes as well as in the evening when Madam Pomfrey kicked him out of the hospital wing. In the morning, he was the first to knock on the doors and rush to George’s side as if he could have magically woken up overnight. His sister, Sapnap and his other friends practically had to force him to eat and sleep and Madam Pomfrey kept muttering that if he did not take better care of himself, she would soon have another patient.

It felt like a dream to him when the news broke out that the heir of Slytherin had kidnapped a Gryffindor girl into the chamber of secrets and that Harry Potter and his friend had somehow managed to not only defeat the monster of Slytherin but also rescue this girl and bring back peace into the school.

But not for Dream. He was restless.

One evening, Sapnap forced Dream to join him on the quidditch pitch. The quidditch season had been interrupted due to the dangers in school, but Sapnap still fetched his and Dream’s brooms and convinced his friend to fly with him.

It was a nice distraction.

Sapnap managed to pull on the strings of his usual competitiveness and so they shared throws of the quaffle and dodged bludgers until the sun disappeared behind the forbidden forest.

Eventually, Sapnap left the pitch for dinner, not after forcing Dream to promise him that he would not forget eating himself. From high up in the air, Dream watched his friend disappear in the castle before turning back to the hoops.

Without a partner to train with, flying was a lot more boring, but nevertheless, Dream stayed on his broom. The early summer air was clearing his mind. He had not felt that relaxed since … the incident. For the first time in days, he was strangely at peace.

He enjoyed the wind ruffling his hair and pulling on his clothes when he was racing across the pitch while it became darker and darker. Slowly, night was breaking through.

He should be returning to the castle soon. If a professor would find him outside that late –

“Isn’t it already past curfew?”

He knew that voice better than his own.

Dream pulled his broom around so fast that he almost slipped off.

And there he was standing, right at the brink of the pitch, his dark figure merely a silhouette in the rising darkness.

George.

Grinning up to him.

Breathing and alive.

Dream’s body moved on its own and made him dive down immediately. He stumbled when he landed on the ground and got off the broom – something that had not happened to him since he was eight – and rushed towards him. His heart was beating violently, his thoughts were racing.

George was here. With him.

Before Dream knew, he was tackling his friend so violently that the hug sent them tumbling over.

Harshly, they hit the ground, George on his back. For a frightening moment, Dream feared that he could have hurt him, but then, George was laughing and laughing and it was the most beautiful sound Dream had ever heard.

“I thought you would have been glad to have a break from me. Nobody was constantly reminding you to study for your exams anymore,” George chuckled, but his arms were wrapped tightly around Dream’s neck like he did not want to let go ever again, either.

Dream wanted to ask so many things, how he was here, if the potion had worked – it had, obviously –, how he was doing and at the same time, he just wanted to apologize for letting something like this happen to his dear friend.

Before he knew, tears began to burn in his eyes. He hardly caught a glimpse of George’s shocked features, then he was already sobbing into his cloak.

“You’re here,” Dream pressed out and clawed his fingers into George’s sides. “Merlin, you’re here.”

“I am,” George agreed a bit puzzled.

“I was so scared of losing you!” Dream blurted out and lifted his face out of the cloth of George’s cloak. The dim light of the night illuminated George’s features and made Dream’s heart ache terribly. “With all the things happening last year and this year and You-know-who trying to regain power and all the dangers around here … I was so terribly scared that … You could have died and I wouldn’t have been able to protect you … I would have been – ”

Never before, Dream was silenced as effectively as by loving lips meeting the corner of his mouth before finally capturing his.

This could not be real. This had to be yet another one of his dreams in which he desperately hoped that George was with him, alive and well.

Warm hands cupped his wet cheeks, soft hair tickled his forehead and finally, finally Dream allowed himself to give in to the blooming warmth in his chest and let all of his feelings out that had been buried deep in his chest for days, months and years.

Kissing George was heaven, something he had gotten a taste of over the last years, but had never really been able to pursuit. And now, it was happening.

Could he get a heart attack from too many emotions fighting in his chest?

When George pulled back, he was smiling. A teasing glint was shimmering in brown eyes, “You started rambling.”

Dream breathed in deeply and let his forehead sink down onto George’s shoulder. His voice was utterly weak when he replied, “You’re such an idiot.”

George’s chest vibrated with quiet chuckles. Dream was sure that his heart missed a beat when gentle fingers carded through his hair and made him shudder.

“I have wanted to do this for so long,” Dream confessed into the black cloth of the Hogwarts uniform. “You don’t even know for how long. I’m so glad to have you back.”

“Ah, be quiet.” Now it was George’s turn to sound flustered. A few seconds of silence passed until George tapped his back. “Now get up, you’re heavy.”

Dream let out a quiet snort, but he pushed himself up, not without kissing George’s cheek and watching him blush even more. With a delighted smile, he let himself fall into the grass next to him and breathed in deeply. The nightly air was pleasant.

So many questions were dancing on his tongue, but he did not want to break the peaceful silence for any of them.

Eventually, it was George who raised his voice, quiet and insecure, “Dream? All of this … with us … What is this?" He took a deep breath. "What are we?”

Dream took his time to answer. He watched the first stars of the night peek through the clouds. The moon fought bravely to send its rays down on them and the hoops on the pitch threw large shadows onto the grass.

“I don’t know,” Dream confessed finally and turned his head to face George who was also staring up to the stars. “But do we have to know?”

“No, I guess not,” George mumbled quietly. “The world is so chaotic and everything is moving so fast. It … It feels like only yesterday that we met at King’s Cross and now, we are leaving Hogwarts forever. The people following the dark paths become stronger and stronger and … it’s like everything is going to change.”

“Not everything,” Dream disagreed and gave him an encouraging smile. “You’ll still have me by your side. And Sapnap. And Wilbur. And Karl. And Quackity.” With every name of their friends, he jabbed his fingers into George’s side until the Ravenclaw boy was giggling from the tickles.

“Dream, that’s childish, stop it,” George chuckled, but he did not complain when warm lips pressed a kiss to his temple.

“You know what I’ve realized?” Dream eventually smiled. “Change is not always bad. Of course, that doesn’t count when you are petrified by a giant snake,” he hurried to add. “But oftentimes, it’s just what you make out of it. And we are going to make it okay.”

George did not reply, but his hand sneaked into Dream’s and when he squeezed it tightly, Dream’s heart nearly overflowed with affection.

“How about we start by sneaking into the Gryffindor tower and surprising Sapnap?” George finally suggested, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “I know their password.”

Agape, Dream stared at him, “Where from?”

George smirked, “Karl has told me.”

“Wait a minute,” Dream frowned. “That still doesn’t explain how Karl knows.”

“I have an idea,” George replied cheekily. “So what do you think about busting them?”

“George, you are the devil,” Dream chuckled, but rose to his feet and extended a hand.

Immediately, George got hold of it and let himself be pulled to his feet, smirking up to Dream, “Nah, you love me.”

Just like on their very first day at King’s Cross seven years ago, Dream sunk deep into chocolate eyes and this time, he let himself fall, knowing that from now on, there was somebody to catch him.

“Yes,” Dream replied softly, watching chocolate melt with deep affection. “You’re probably right.”

 

The seventh time Dream did not kiss George.

George kissed Dream.