Title: Where Dreams are Born
Author: Bittersweet Revenge
Summary: Draco falls into a coma and Harry, being the Occlumens he is, needs to enter his mind and bring him back to reality, but he starts discovering things about Draco as he wanders off into the labyrinth of his mind...
Rating: PG-13
Gender: adventure, mystery and slash
Couple: Harry/Draco
Disclaimer: Do I really need to do this? ... hum, guess so. I know that these characters do not belong to me, I am not making any money out of this and I send my greetings to J.K.Rowling, okay?
A/N: ... hope you like it!
Chapter 1:
It was springtime, Saturday the twenty-second of April, to be precise. Inconsequential patches of grotty snow lay here and there on the relentlessly damp grounds of Hogwarts, welcoming students to go outside... if they didn't care losing their balance and falling into muck every few feet and by that unavoidably ruining their clothes and risking the possibility of breaking something, and so that was why, even though the temperature was very pleasant and that clouds were infrequent in the sky, everyone was indoors; save perhaps Hagrid who was occupied in the meadow behind his hut, feeding a couple of gargantuan furry beasts he was going to present in his next Care of Magical Creatures class.
Most witches and wizards had withdrawn to their common rooms to start the pile of homework each teacher had contributed in creating for them to start the revisions for their O.W.L.s or N.E.W.T.s that were arriving in less than five weeks time.
Harry would have valiantly joined Ron and Hermione in the library to start his transfiguration revision if he hadn't accidentally made his mixture in potions class burst, spraying numerous Slytherins and making them grow itchy blue fur, consequently receiving a detention he was told to attend in the dungeons at exactly eleven o'clock, and since it was six past eleven, he was late.
"Who cares anyways?" Harry muttered to himself, making his way to a staircase that would lead him to the dungeons.
Shaking his head and sighing heavily, he caught his reflection in one of the windowpanes he was passing by. He had changed since his fifth year. He had finally gained a few inches and was no longer considered small, his figure was still on the frail side even though he was starting to obtain muscles from his inexorable Quidditch practice three times a week. His hair was as messy as ever but he kind of liked it that way and he had finally replaced his battered glasses with spectacles with a thinner frame that he found to his liking. His green eyes were the same, though they now hid all feelings and kept secrets he would never share with anyone; his skin tone was not really definable, a simple pitch of beige stuck between ivory and, due to his exposition to the sun, gold.
He smiled to his reflection and saw that there was still no feeling in his simple gesture... there hadn't been any since Sirius had died, anyways.
His potions and transfiguration books under his left arm, he set off again, keeping his eyes on the red floor covering. He passed a few unknown students, went down the stairs, heard Nearly Headless Nick salute him but did not answer, traversed a couple of hallways and ended up in front of a door flanked by two stone gargoyles with rubies for eyes. He knocked, turned the worn, silver handle and pushed the door open, making a few steps into his potions class. The usual, crisp and cold voice of the potions master greeted him by taking off ten points from Griffindor House because of his tardiness.
"Now, for you detention," Snape continued, his elbows on the desk in front of him, his fingers tapping gently together as he smiled in the most annoying way, "you will proceed in testing, labelling and changing the bottles of all the potions in that storeroom. The new vials and bottles are on the other side and you will have to check with those products on that desk over there if the potions are not rotten or foul. Don't break anything. Don't spill anything. Don't label if you are not sure of yourself and when you are done, class by alphabetical order on the shelves in the back, which you will have to dust."
"Is that all?" Harry spat, keeping a tight grip on his schoolbooks.
"No, since you don't seem to find it sufficient," hissed the potions master. "You will also get rid of the fermented sheep brains and dragon guts in the jars in my office."
Harry did not answer, staring straight into the eyes of his hated teacher. Neither of them blinked or looked away for several moments until the door opened once again, letting madam Pomfrey appear in the doorway.
"I'm sorry to disturb you, Severus, but I would greatly call for your assistance," said the witch, a relatively distressed look on her face. "I have a little problem with a student in the Hospital Wing."
"Yes, I'll be there right away," answered Snape, smiling to the nurse before returning his attention to Harry. "You! Start your work."
And then he rose, contoured his desk and made his way to the door madam Pomfrey had left ajar. Harry growled and slammed his books on a desk, making his way towards the storeroom. He wasn't surprised to see uncountable bookshelves covered by dusty vials covering all four walls of the room.
"Stupid Snape," muttered Harry, grabbing a first one and uncorking it, letting purple smoke escape from it.
He started testing each potion one by one, placing them in new vials and tubes and had been doing so for nearly an hour when he finally broke one of the two containers he was about to put on the teacher's desk. Harry cursed and pulled out his wand, muttering a spell to make the mixture disappear and another to summon the shards of glass.
"Hello, Harry," a warm voice said from behind him.
Harry turned around and saw professor Dumbledore standing near an agglomeration of desks where a group of Ravenclaw girls usually sat.
"Oh, hello professor," said Harry, taking another bottle and placing it near a small coffer filled with orange gel.
"Hum... I know you are in detention but... I was wondering if you could help a student in the Hospital Wing," the headmaster said slowly. "Maybe you could do that instead of this."
Sure, anything is better than doing this! the Griffindor thought, placing the second bottle on the nearest shelf. "Of course," he quickly exclaimed.
"Yes, I was sure you were going to accept," chuckled the old wizard. "Now, follow me to the Hospital Wing, please. A student needs help."
Harry was not asked twice and so hastily left the potions class, following the Headmaster out of the dungeons and up to the higher levels by using secret passages and hidden staircases. They arrived in the Hospital Wing and marched through it, Harry staying in the older man's shadow, wondering what he was going to have to do for this student.
Harry passed the curtain separating the last bed from the others and stopped dead in his tracks in shock. The bedspread of the bed had been pulled back and folded at the end of the mattress and the pillow lay at the other end. Crouched in a foetal position on the middle of the mattress was Draco Malfoy, his icy grey eyes open, vacant, unblinking. It was evident that something was very wrong.
"We have absolutely no idea what happened," madam Pomfrey was whispering to Snape. "A girl found him, Pansy Parkinson to what I understood. She found him in his room just lying in his bed, his eyes just as they are now. I had him brought up here, I tried awakening tonics and many other potions but nothing would do. I reported to Albus, telling him there was a student in coma and he said to call you."
"Seeing that your potions master is a very talented Occlumens," said Dumbledore to Harry, "we tried to see if he could enter mister Malfoy's mind to bring him back to reality but... mister Malfoy started having spasms and tossing and turning as if professor Snape was torturing him."
"But I thought Occlumency couldn't hurt," Harry stated, watching Draco, curiously unaffected by the Slytherin's situation.
"If you resist, it can," answered the Headmaster. "Or if you have mind shields and don't want to let anyone in, to hide thoughts and so forth."
"And... what am I supposed to do?" continued Harry, getting straight to the point.
"Professor Snape has been telling me that you have greatly improved in Occlumency," said professor Dumbledore, unaffected by his straightforwardness. "I would like you to try to contact Draco. Could you try to... talk to him?"
Harry chuckled, placing his hands in his pockets as he leaned on the opposite wall, still eyeing Draco's motionless form on the bed.
"I doubt very greatly that Malfoy would let me come inside his mind, even less talk to him to try to 'bring him back', as you say," he said. "If Sna- , I mean professor Snape, can't do it, I surely can't."
"Harry... if we don't do something soon... who knows what could happen to him," Dumbledore whispered slowly. "We don't know what is happening to him and it has already been six, maybe seven hours that he has been in this state. Doctors from Saint Mungo's will only arrive tomorrow afternoon."
Harry rolled his eyes, not very happy with the idea of going into his rival's head, even though he was a bit forced to do it because the headmaster had transferred his detention to this.
"Fine," he ended up saying. "I'll do it, but if he pushes me out of his mind, don't try to make me do anything else. It will just mean that, just like professor Snape, I can't do anything."
The Headmaster seemed contented and nodded in madam Pomfrey's direction. She pulled out her wand from her right pocket and made the bed move away from the wall. She then placed a comfortable-looking armchair at the end of the bed, near Draco's head. Sighing, Harry walked to it and sat down, giving one last look in professor Dumbledore's direction.
He took a deep breath, placed his hands on either side of Draco's head and entered his mind.
His surroundings unexpectedly disappeared and he was left in darkness.
I'd love to hear your comments, please!
Author: Bittersweet Revenge
Summary: Draco falls into a coma and Harry, being the Occlumens he is, needs to enter his mind and bring him back to reality, but he starts discovering things about Draco as he wanders off into the labyrinth of his mind...
Rating: PG-13
Gender: adventure, mystery and slash
Couple: Harry/Draco
Disclaimer: Do I really need to do this? ... hum, guess so. I know that these characters do not belong to me, I am not making any money out of this and I send my greetings to J.K.Rowling, okay?
A/N: ... hope you like it!
Chapter 1:
It was springtime, Saturday the twenty-second of April, to be precise. Inconsequential patches of grotty snow lay here and there on the relentlessly damp grounds of Hogwarts, welcoming students to go outside... if they didn't care losing their balance and falling into muck every few feet and by that unavoidably ruining their clothes and risking the possibility of breaking something, and so that was why, even though the temperature was very pleasant and that clouds were infrequent in the sky, everyone was indoors; save perhaps Hagrid who was occupied in the meadow behind his hut, feeding a couple of gargantuan furry beasts he was going to present in his next Care of Magical Creatures class.
Most witches and wizards had withdrawn to their common rooms to start the pile of homework each teacher had contributed in creating for them to start the revisions for their O.W.L.s or N.E.W.T.s that were arriving in less than five weeks time.
Harry would have valiantly joined Ron and Hermione in the library to start his transfiguration revision if he hadn't accidentally made his mixture in potions class burst, spraying numerous Slytherins and making them grow itchy blue fur, consequently receiving a detention he was told to attend in the dungeons at exactly eleven o'clock, and since it was six past eleven, he was late.
"Who cares anyways?" Harry muttered to himself, making his way to a staircase that would lead him to the dungeons.
Shaking his head and sighing heavily, he caught his reflection in one of the windowpanes he was passing by. He had changed since his fifth year. He had finally gained a few inches and was no longer considered small, his figure was still on the frail side even though he was starting to obtain muscles from his inexorable Quidditch practice three times a week. His hair was as messy as ever but he kind of liked it that way and he had finally replaced his battered glasses with spectacles with a thinner frame that he found to his liking. His green eyes were the same, though they now hid all feelings and kept secrets he would never share with anyone; his skin tone was not really definable, a simple pitch of beige stuck between ivory and, due to his exposition to the sun, gold.
He smiled to his reflection and saw that there was still no feeling in his simple gesture... there hadn't been any since Sirius had died, anyways.
His potions and transfiguration books under his left arm, he set off again, keeping his eyes on the red floor covering. He passed a few unknown students, went down the stairs, heard Nearly Headless Nick salute him but did not answer, traversed a couple of hallways and ended up in front of a door flanked by two stone gargoyles with rubies for eyes. He knocked, turned the worn, silver handle and pushed the door open, making a few steps into his potions class. The usual, crisp and cold voice of the potions master greeted him by taking off ten points from Griffindor House because of his tardiness.
"Now, for you detention," Snape continued, his elbows on the desk in front of him, his fingers tapping gently together as he smiled in the most annoying way, "you will proceed in testing, labelling and changing the bottles of all the potions in that storeroom. The new vials and bottles are on the other side and you will have to check with those products on that desk over there if the potions are not rotten or foul. Don't break anything. Don't spill anything. Don't label if you are not sure of yourself and when you are done, class by alphabetical order on the shelves in the back, which you will have to dust."
"Is that all?" Harry spat, keeping a tight grip on his schoolbooks.
"No, since you don't seem to find it sufficient," hissed the potions master. "You will also get rid of the fermented sheep brains and dragon guts in the jars in my office."
Harry did not answer, staring straight into the eyes of his hated teacher. Neither of them blinked or looked away for several moments until the door opened once again, letting madam Pomfrey appear in the doorway.
"I'm sorry to disturb you, Severus, but I would greatly call for your assistance," said the witch, a relatively distressed look on her face. "I have a little problem with a student in the Hospital Wing."
"Yes, I'll be there right away," answered Snape, smiling to the nurse before returning his attention to Harry. "You! Start your work."
And then he rose, contoured his desk and made his way to the door madam Pomfrey had left ajar. Harry growled and slammed his books on a desk, making his way towards the storeroom. He wasn't surprised to see uncountable bookshelves covered by dusty vials covering all four walls of the room.
"Stupid Snape," muttered Harry, grabbing a first one and uncorking it, letting purple smoke escape from it.
He started testing each potion one by one, placing them in new vials and tubes and had been doing so for nearly an hour when he finally broke one of the two containers he was about to put on the teacher's desk. Harry cursed and pulled out his wand, muttering a spell to make the mixture disappear and another to summon the shards of glass.
"Hello, Harry," a warm voice said from behind him.
Harry turned around and saw professor Dumbledore standing near an agglomeration of desks where a group of Ravenclaw girls usually sat.
"Oh, hello professor," said Harry, taking another bottle and placing it near a small coffer filled with orange gel.
"Hum... I know you are in detention but... I was wondering if you could help a student in the Hospital Wing," the headmaster said slowly. "Maybe you could do that instead of this."
Sure, anything is better than doing this! the Griffindor thought, placing the second bottle on the nearest shelf. "Of course," he quickly exclaimed.
"Yes, I was sure you were going to accept," chuckled the old wizard. "Now, follow me to the Hospital Wing, please. A student needs help."
Harry was not asked twice and so hastily left the potions class, following the Headmaster out of the dungeons and up to the higher levels by using secret passages and hidden staircases. They arrived in the Hospital Wing and marched through it, Harry staying in the older man's shadow, wondering what he was going to have to do for this student.
Harry passed the curtain separating the last bed from the others and stopped dead in his tracks in shock. The bedspread of the bed had been pulled back and folded at the end of the mattress and the pillow lay at the other end. Crouched in a foetal position on the middle of the mattress was Draco Malfoy, his icy grey eyes open, vacant, unblinking. It was evident that something was very wrong.
"We have absolutely no idea what happened," madam Pomfrey was whispering to Snape. "A girl found him, Pansy Parkinson to what I understood. She found him in his room just lying in his bed, his eyes just as they are now. I had him brought up here, I tried awakening tonics and many other potions but nothing would do. I reported to Albus, telling him there was a student in coma and he said to call you."
"Seeing that your potions master is a very talented Occlumens," said Dumbledore to Harry, "we tried to see if he could enter mister Malfoy's mind to bring him back to reality but... mister Malfoy started having spasms and tossing and turning as if professor Snape was torturing him."
"But I thought Occlumency couldn't hurt," Harry stated, watching Draco, curiously unaffected by the Slytherin's situation.
"If you resist, it can," answered the Headmaster. "Or if you have mind shields and don't want to let anyone in, to hide thoughts and so forth."
"And... what am I supposed to do?" continued Harry, getting straight to the point.
"Professor Snape has been telling me that you have greatly improved in Occlumency," said professor Dumbledore, unaffected by his straightforwardness. "I would like you to try to contact Draco. Could you try to... talk to him?"
Harry chuckled, placing his hands in his pockets as he leaned on the opposite wall, still eyeing Draco's motionless form on the bed.
"I doubt very greatly that Malfoy would let me come inside his mind, even less talk to him to try to 'bring him back', as you say," he said. "If Sna- , I mean professor Snape, can't do it, I surely can't."
"Harry... if we don't do something soon... who knows what could happen to him," Dumbledore whispered slowly. "We don't know what is happening to him and it has already been six, maybe seven hours that he has been in this state. Doctors from Saint Mungo's will only arrive tomorrow afternoon."
Harry rolled his eyes, not very happy with the idea of going into his rival's head, even though he was a bit forced to do it because the headmaster had transferred his detention to this.
"Fine," he ended up saying. "I'll do it, but if he pushes me out of his mind, don't try to make me do anything else. It will just mean that, just like professor Snape, I can't do anything."
The Headmaster seemed contented and nodded in madam Pomfrey's direction. She pulled out her wand from her right pocket and made the bed move away from the wall. She then placed a comfortable-looking armchair at the end of the bed, near Draco's head. Sighing, Harry walked to it and sat down, giving one last look in professor Dumbledore's direction.
He took a deep breath, placed his hands on either side of Draco's head and entered his mind.
His surroundings unexpectedly disappeared and he was left in darkness.
I'd love to hear your comments, please!