Pt. 1: Meander
Chapter 10: Winter's Dream
He was falling, falling—ouch! He hit—trapped in a black lake, no, a whirlpool, swirling around with fall leaves, dragging him down, down, under, he couldn't breathe, he was disintegrating under the water.
Draco woke with a start. That dream again. He went over the dream in his mind, breathing evenly, which was, he knew from experience, the best way to keep from falling asleep and continuing the dream.
It was a dream he'd had often, and it didn't scare him much anymore, more like a familiar face saying hello. But today it felt like a warning, he would drown if he stayed put. He was only alive because he'd woken up.
He realized that Harry had draped an arm over Draco in his sleep and smiled slightly. People didn't touch Draco, they just didn't. He'd gone through a phase where he didn't let anyone touch him, and although he had got over it, everyone else hadn't. The few fleeting touches he got from his parents had disappeared entirely. Crabbe, Goyle, Pansy, Blaise didn't touch him. It was lonely sometimes. But here was Harry Potter, touching him, ever since he showed up at his door.
He wanted to stay, here with Harry, here with feeling like something that mattered, but he couldn't. He would drown. He would cease to breathe.
And he couldn't let his father find Harry.
It was ironic, he thought, that he was going into hiding, hunting for a cave to wait out the winter in, in the middle of summer, his favourite season.