Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Also, this story, and many of the OC characters, were created by sketchywolf, so I can't take credit for them.
Chapter Two: Brixton Orphanage, Brixton Road, Lambeth, London 1992
Andrew woke up covered in sweat, his black hair plastered to his forehead. Blinking, it took a moment before he realized where he was. He wasn't in his house, and his mother wasn't lying dead before him. No.
He was instead sitting up in a small bed, inside one of the many rooms in Brixton Orphanage. There were eleven other boys in this room with him, and several of them were sending him glares. He'd been dreaming again.
"Can't you go one night without waking up screaming?" One of the boys, Alfred Dwight, asked. Andrew glanced at him apologetically.
"Sorry…" He murmured, wiping the hair out of his face and lying back down. He knew he wouldn't be able to sleep again. If he did, then the dream would come again, his mother dying, and him not doing anything to stop it.
Eyes open, he watched as the other boys settled back down in their beds. How lucky they were, to close their eyes and dream of finding families - while Andrew could only dream of losing his.
If only he hadn't come out of the dumbwaiter that day...Then he wouldn't have seen his mum laying there, staring out with unseeing eyes -
"Hey," The voice of one of the younger boys jerked Andrew out of his thoughts. "I get nightmares too."
Sitting up, Andrew looked towards the voice. In the darkness, he could just barely see the silhouette of one of the younger boys. He was new here, and had come in just a few short days ago.
"You both have nightmares - whoop-de-doo," Alfred said sarcastically from his bed. "Now would you both shut up and let me sleep?"
Andrew rolled his eyes at Alfred, and gestured for the little boy to sit next to him. He gladly did so.
"What do you see in your nightmares?" Andrew asked, folding his legs and making room for the boy. The boy clambered on, going over to sit next to Andrew.
"Whenever I have a nightmare, it's always the same thing," He said, hugging tightly to him a teddy bear. "My mum, dad, little sister, and I are all sailing on our boat. But then, a storm hits, and the waves start pounding on the ship. They keep getting bigger and bigger - so big that my dad said we needed to get inside the ship so we stay safe. But before we can, the biggest wave of all comes over washes us all overboard! And then, underwater, we try to swim out from underneath the boat - but mum's shirt gets caught on the railing, and dad goes back to unhook her from it and -" The boy stopped a moment to compose himself. Tears were running down his face now. "And I take my sister and swim up to the surface to wait for mum and dad. But they don't come back out…"
Andrew gave the boy a compassionate look, and gently put his arm around him to give him a hug. This boy understood what he was going through. He had been witness to his family's demise, the same as Andrew.
"It wasn't your fault," Andrew said, knowing full well that this boy would blame himself. "If you had gone back down to try and help them, you'd be dead too."
"I know," The boy said, pulling out of Andrew's hug. "That's why I didn't go back down. Because my little sister couldn't swim, and I could. I didn't want her to die too."
"That was very brave of you," Andrew said, giving him a smile. The boy smiled back, and puffed his chest out just a little with pride.
"What do you have nightmares about?" the boy asked, curious now about Andrew's dreams. Andrew stiffened, and decided he better change the subject. Anyone he ever told his dreams to thought his mind had made up a story to rationalize what he'd seen and heard.
"Wait a second," Andrew said, putting a hand to his chin. "We can't be sharing our stories with one another."
"Why not?" the boy asked, puzzled.
"Because," Andrew said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "We don't even know one another's names!"
"Oh," The boy said, blinking. "Well, I'm Geofry. Spelled with a G."
"Hello Georfy, spelled with a G," Andrew said, putting his hand out to shake. "My name's Andrew, spelled with an A." Geofry reached out and shook Andrew's hand, smiling a little.
"How many times do I have to tell you -" Alfred said from his bed, turning and angrily glaring at the two boys. "Shut the hell up!"
"Boys!" One of the adult staff said from outside their room. "You're supposed to be asleep!"
"Hurry," Andrew said, pushing Geofry towards his bed. "Get under the covers and pretend you're asleep!"
Jumping nimbly off the bed, Geofry raced to his bed and dove beneath the covers. Andrew did the same, closing his eyes and forcing himself to breath evenly. When the light from the staff member's flashlight shone on his face, Andrew opened his eyes sleepily.
"What's going on?" He asked, rubbing his eyes. He'd been here is whole life, and he knew how to fake sleep.
"One of you was making a racket," The man said, taking the flashlight out of Andrew's face. "And I heard someone here swearing!"
Alfred, who had also quickly feigned sleep, rolled over and squinted his eyes open.
"Don't look at me," Andrew said, putting his head back in his pillow. The man looked around the room, clearly confused. Every one of the boys was fast asleep (or at least, they looked it). Scratching his head, the man left the room, mumbling to himself.
"Maybe it came from the other room…" He said as he closed the door. When the man was gone, all the boys let out a collective sigh of relief. The last thing they wanted to do was get caught after curfew and have to clean the bathrooms.