Summary:
It was more like random flashbacks he was having, rather than flights of fancy - people who he felt like he should know, but he'd never met. He wondered if he'd had another life before Blaise, before the accident - a parallel universe, perhaps?
**Possible trigger warning: issues of consent**
Notes:
In response to a prompt by TheSlytherinCabal in the DBQ2018Round1 collection. (On AO3)
Every night was a whirlwind of images. Swirling, clashing, banging around his brain.
Dean thought he could probably handle it if they seemed like dreams, but it was more like random flashbacks he was having, rather than flights of fancy - people who he felt like he should know, but he'd never met. He wondered if he'd had another life before Blaise, before the accident - a parallel universe, perhaps? The flashback dreams were starting to drive him crazy. They were coming faster, more frequent, and with increased length and detail.
He hadn't told Blaise- Blaise worried and hovered incessantly when concerned, and Dean hated it when Blaise was worried. He was very lucky, he supposed, that Blaise remained with him, despite the accident. Apparently, Dean had been one of the hospital's most challenging patients, according to Blaise's friend Theo. Theo wasn't often around at Blaise and Dean's house - they spent more time with Draco Malfoy, Millicent Bulstrode and Pansy Parkinson. Theo was somewhat kind, but the other three were a little intense and treated Blaise as something of a second-class citizen. Not rude, exactly, but… as though he was beneath them, and wasn't he so lucky Blaise had taken him in and stayed with him despite everything?
Of course, he was lucky- he knew it without a doubt. Blaise loved him before the accident and just as much, if not more, afterwards. He knew through Blaise's attentiveness and every tiny action. He liked that Blaise knew everything about him, and adored him for endeavouring to fill in each gap in Dean's forgotten history, from the death of his parents as a child, to their shared schooling at the prestigious Durmstrang Institute, and their holidays around Europe.
But despite Blaise's recounts of Dean's past, the flashback dreams just didn't match. They revolved around a school he'd heard of, but never attended, in Scotland of all places. He dreamt of wandering the halls with a blonde haired Irishman, an older witch transforming into a cat, and a boy with dark hair and round glasses grinning at him.
He began to sketch an image from his latest dream - a tiny little wizard who was standing on a pile of books to see over a desk stacked with feathers, tiny cauldrons and tidy stacks of parchment. He had just begun to detail the feathers when Blaise knocked gently on the door to the library. "Dean, love, are you ready for dinner?"
Dean quickly shoved his sketchbook onto the bookshelf next to him, and stood, stretching slowly, smirking slightly when Blaise's eyes were immediately drawn to where his stomach flashed for a brief moment. He caught Blaise's eye and smiled as the other man blushed and quickly looked away. "I'm ready," he reached out to take Blaise's hand. He grinned down at the shorter man and drew him into a conversation about their plans for the next day. It'd all work out.
It was a long day for Dean. Blaise loved nothing more than to take a quick Portkey or Floo somewhere to do what he called 'recreational shopping.' Dean wasn't a fan of it, himself, but he did love the travel and compromised with Blaise by pulling out his sketchbooks over morning tea or lunch to record the interesting things he saw.
Today was a trip to Diagon Alley, a bustling Wizarding street in London. They had never been here before, despite its popularity. Dean was amazed by the exquisite detailing of the statues on the front of Gringotts, the bank, and had paused to take in the shine of the glaze. He dawdled past Quality Quidditch Supplies and an ice cream parlour, where his eye caught sight of a familiar face, wandering hand in hand with another man through the crowd. He smiled and waved politely at Theo, who was listening as his partner chatted animatedly as they wove around people.
Dean paused, brow furrowed. Theo's partner had sandy blonde hair and freckles and reminded Dean strongly of someone in one of his dreams. He chewed on his lip, pondering, as Blaise acknowledged Theo with a tense nod and took Dean's hand, pulling him gently away from the ice cream parlour, suggesting they stop for lunch before it got too late.
As they passed, he heard the blonde haired man muttering to his companion in a strong Irish accent, "have we met them before?"
Theo hurried them away quickly, murmuring quietly in return, chuckling lightly, despite the rigid set of his shoulders.
"Who was that man?" Dean was compelled to ask Blaise, as they wove around the bustling crowd.
"Theo?" Blaise frowned down at him.
Dean smiled tightly, "no, the other one, with him. I didn't know Theo had a boyfriend."
"Oh, that's just Shay. You probably won't see him again." Blaise shrugged, and tugged on his hand, pulling him towards a darker side street. "Theo goes through men like you go through sketchbooks." He darted an awkward look behind them and quickened his pace, Dean having to lengthen his strides to keep up.
The rest of the day passed quickly and without further incident, but Dean couldn't shake the face of Theo's boyfriend. As soon as they returned home and unpacked their purchases, Den rushed to their drawing room with his sketchbook and feverishly sketched page after page of the man, trying to work out why he felt so important.
He didn't notice Blaise behind him, pale, hands shaking.
It wasn't until dinner time that Dean went searching for Blaise, meandering through the halls of their house, then following the sounds of heated voices as they reached his ears.
"There's a reason you agreed not to visit Diagon Alley!"
"I know, but I missed home and -"
"You missed home!" Draco's voice was furious.
"I thought it would be safe. I didn't think -" Blaise protested weakly.
"You never think, Blaise!" snapped Draco angrily.
"I didn't know Theo would be there!" Blaise's voice came, defensive even to Dean's ears.
"You didn't even floo him to check! Not that it even matters - you know that if you surround them with familiar things, they're more likely to start remembering. You were fucking careless, Blaise!"
By now, Dean was standing next to the open doorway, absorbed in the angry voices. He was unaware of what was happening around him, swamped in a feeling of deja vu, like he had heard this conversation before, as though all of his fragmented dreams were somehow, oddly, being validated. He didn't understand the conversation, but he knew something was wrong, wrong, so very wrong. His vision ran, he leaned heavily on the one hand resting against the wall.
"Blaise, see what happens when you let your pets roam freely?" a feminine voice came from behind him. He turned, but before he could make eye contact with Pansy, he heard Blaise's voice behind him, full of regret.
"Obliviate."
Every night was a whirlwind of images. Swirling, clashing, banging around his brain.
Dean thought he could probably handle it if they seemed like dreams, but it was more like random flashbacks he was having, rather than flights of fancy - people who he felt like he should know, but he'd never met. He wondered if he'd had another life before Blaise, before the accident - a parallel universe, perhaps? The flashback dreams were starting to drive him crazy.
He began to sketch an image from his latest dream - a giant who was surrounded by various magical animals, from unicorns and blast ended skrewts to thestrals and hippogryphs. He was just starting to detail the horn of the unicorn when Blaise knocked gently on the door to the library. "Dean, sweetheart, are you ready for dinner?"
Dean quickly shoved his sketchbook onto the bookshelf next to him, and stood, smiling brightly up at his husband. "Of course, love, I'm starving!"