The body under the silky-smooth gray bed sheet squirmed, uncomfortable from the sudden coldness, unlike summer. Heck, she didn’t think she needed a thick blanket, but there she was curled into a ball under the said thick blanket.

An echoing knock finally woke her up.

Juniper felt around for the edge of the blanket, hoping to test the weather outside of her comfort zone. Her fingers curled in, retreating immediately. Yep, too cold.

She could’ve sworn, last night upon heading to bed, that the weatherman during the morning weather news promised close to the 80s for the entire week. This was not 80 degrees Fahrenheit. Far from it.

“Hey sis,” she mumbled under the covers, eyes half-open.

No one responded.

Braving the cold front, Juniper peeked out of the blanket to call out to her sister again.

“Hey, sis!”

Still, no one responded.

Was it that late in the day already that her sister had long been awake? In this cold?

Nah.

A knock interrupted Juniper’s groggy thoughts.

She let the light that she so desperately tried to filter out with her shut eyes seep in slowly. She blinked vigorously to get her eyes adjusted quickly.

Another knock.

She cursed under her breath as the incessant knocking continued.

“What do you want? Just come in already!”

Awakened by her irritable constitution, she squinted at the bed frame in front of her. She was pretty sure she didn’t have a bed frame, but shrugged it off and rolled over to her back.

Her ceiling had become a dark purple rather than creamy white. Starting to wake, even more, her eyes explored the room that was definitely. Not. Hers.

She almost wondered if she’d gotten drunk except, she hadn’t drunk anything alcoholic before going to bed.

“It was your idea,” said an unfamiliar person standing under the door frame.

He had a set of muted bluish-green eyes, pale face, platinum blonde hair, and a stoic expression painted on his face to greet her ever so friendly.

‘Who invited the marble statue,’ she joked to herself.

The boy kept staring at her. Somehow, this made her feel a tad conscious. She pulled at the covers to hide herself a bit.

“Get dressed, mother and father want us at the hall.” He made to walk away, but turned halfway through and added as an afterthought, “and don’t wear that lacy dress you’ve been wearing these past few days. No matter how many times you have Elvina wash it, it’s still overused. Have some pride.”

He stepped out of the room but turned back around to add yet again another unsolicited opinion.

“Wear,” he flourished his hand in the air for emphasis, “the dark blue if you must wear something with a bit of color.”

She bit back a snide remark as she assessed her surroundings further. One pinch had done nothing, not that it ever did in any of her lucid vivid dreams.

She let out a sigh; she’ll have to follow through with this if she wanted it to end.

“What are you doing?”

He had not left like she thought he would, seeing as he’d attempted it twice before. Though, it shouldn’t have surprised her that he was stopping himself.

She was, odd, to say the least. But to her, he seemed familiar.

“Oh, honey, Toto, we definitely ain’t in Kansas,” she murmured.

“What was that?”

“Nothing,” she leaned forward and beckoned him to maybe mention his name to her.

He rolled his eyes, not interested in her games though it wasn’t really a game to her.

“Despite our fight last night, I hardly think that’s reason to forget my name. I did,” he paused, trying to remember something, “I certainly did apologize already. It’s you who’ve yet to give an apology.”

He stalked off, a little miffed that he’d had to apologize again even if it was indirectly.

She didn’t understand this though but was intrigued that his room was across from hers.

“Okay, June, quite an active imagination you’ve going on. So, what’s this dream about?”

She found it interesting that she could physically talk in the dream. Usually, it was limited to her thoughts. Maybe she had gotten drunk and was having some sort of out-of-body experience.

Decidedly, she plopped her head back into the satin-soft pillows (which felt like heaven if she may add) and shut her eyes tight. This often worked, but the feel of the bed hadn’t changed. There was no falling back to sleep to wake up from either. She was, without a doubt, stuck in the dream.

She squirmed, not because the sheets were itchy. No, not at all. They were heavenly smooth like a baby’s bottom or a perfectly shaved man’s head. Whichever felt nicer, that was the feeling of her entire four-post bed. Actually, not only her bed but so did her pajamas. Expectedly, she pulled away from the covers and found herself in silky drawers— a thin black tank and short shorts. No wonder she’d been freezing when she woke up.

June decided to let her eyes wander some more this time from one corner of the room to another. There was a wall filled with books and an armchair with an accompanying coffee table. On another corner was a desk complete with a lamp, fancy wooden chair, and a cage?

Before she could ponder more about the cage, a knock on the door interrupted her.

“I’m giving you two more minutes or I’m invoking my right to drop cold water on you.”

‘Ha! Like I can feel in a dream!’ she snorted back in her head.

But then, she doubled back. She could feel. She felt the cold, the soft satiny sheets, and even her skin. Everything was so detailed and vivid.

Great.

A small huff escaped her lips as she crawled out of bed in defeat. But where to start?

She didn’t recognize the room at all, but if she was to wake up, she’d really have to follow through with the dream just as the boy wished her to. So, first thing first, she had to find her clothes.

She scuffled around the room, looking under her bed, and flipping through books for secret passages when the door burst open.

“For Merlin’s sake, June, you need to get—” they looked at each other and down to her lack of clothes.

June didn’t think much of the outfit, but the boy (she refused to call him by his name) turned a shade of pink, adding color to his alabaster skin.

Looking at her own hands, she noticed that she too was quite pale.

That was another thing the dream seemed to be very clear on. Color.

A Maya-blue fuzzy throw smacked her on the face.

“Get dressed,” he ordered with a snap.

A small creature entered the room with a loud Pop! The creature turned her attention to the boy, head low with her hands folded together.

“Find your master something to wear. Now.”

“Yes, Master Draco.”

“Master…?” June couldn’t help echoing the word.

“Did you hit your head or are you just incredibly stupid?” He opened his mouth to say something, closed them, then opened them again just to say, “get dressed already.”

“Rude,” she scoffed under her breath. “Well excu~se me. I’m just not myself right now.”

“Clearly.”

She wanted to pull his hair, a little childish and not something you’d want to do to someone almost two decades younger, but she was tempted.

When she did not attempt to respond, he smirked. The smug look of a sore winner was plastered on his face. Again, she was tempted to smack the boy.

“How rude is he!” She shouted as the door shut closed.

“But he’s always like that,” the creature with no name said with a grin. “And you always fight back. Except for today. Today, you were nicer to him.”

Today? She had wanted to ask when her eyes fell on her reflection displayed in the mirror the creature brought out from inside the closet she’d been in search of.

“That-” She pointed to a younger version of herself followed by an awkward laugh, “that isn’t me, is it?”

The creature stared back into the reflection, confused.

They looked at the reflection, then at each other before either of them realized her faux pas.

“Who are you!” The elf (June had decided to simply call her) brandished her fingers like a weapon.

“Okay, calm down, little dude.”

“I am no little dude. I am Elvina.”

She slapped her hand to her mouth.

June couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her lips. “Elvina, I see, you are as clumsy as I am.”

Again, forgetting to be mindful, Elvina let a giggle out.

“Really, who are you?” she asked, no longer alarmed by the non-threatening form that is June in her natural state.

“Juniper Alden, at your service, Miss Elvina.”

The young elf raised a muscle-brow, “Alden? Yes, you do look like the mistress…”

“I should be waking up now… no?”

But even the strange exchange with the house-elf was no wake-up call, as desperate as she was for one.

“We must get you dressed!” The elf rushed as the clock on the wall ticked.

A snap here and there had June washed head to toe. Another snap and her hair were being brushed while an array of undergarments floated from the closet to the bed.

“Aha! The closet!” she said, gleefully.

She picked randomly, letting the dream play out. Since Elvina had resolved not to ask her any more questions until after they finished getting ready, she too agreed to do the same.

“God, not black. I’ve lived much of my childhood in black. I’m not going for the blue either since that’s what he suggested.” Juniper yet again felt childish but brushed it off. “Let’s go with the mahogany-red even though I hate that it’s velvety.”

As soon as the dress was pulled over her and neatly straightened out, the door burst open. To no surprise, the platinum brat was back.

She paid him no attention as the lack of breast bothered her more than she thought it would. With a frown, she let her hand brush down.

“What in Merlin’s beard are you doing? Stop touching yourself.”

She took in a deep breath, trying her hardest not to punch the kid into oblivion. He really should just leave her alone.

“I don’t like this,” she muttered.

“Shall we put make-up on?” The elf brushed her hair back for her and began to braid parts of it.

“I don’t really like make-up, and honestly, aren’t I a bit too young for make-up?”

“Then just a bit of color.”

Realizing that he was ignored, most likely from pushing her buttons too much, Draco fidgeted quietly to the side.

“I’m sorry.”

She slowly turned her head to look at the boy.

“For?”

“For what I just said?” he mimicked what she’d done, touching his torso.

Goodness, the ten-or-so-year-old boy was apologizing about unintentionally mocking her flat-chestedness. She could just about laugh, except, she didn’t like that she was reliving her flat-chested days in a so-very vivid dream even if she was only around ten… or younger.

Everything about this was strange, but even stranger was that it felt quite familiar.

She tried to talk, to tell him it was okay, but the image of them blurred away.