! Note: There are horror elements in this chapter. I didn't tag or warn, because I didn't know they'd be there. Spontaneity is part of my process. You can skip it if you want to, but my inner writer says it must be here. For those who want to skip it, Draco and Harry fight Draco's worst fears. That's not exactly a spoiler, since the last chapter led up to it, and it's still full of surprises. Hope you make it to the other side. :-)
REMINDER: Lucius' ideas are not necessarily the beliefs of this writer. He's playing the role of a flawed person, and playing it well. This story is not intended to tell anyone what to believe or how to live. Don't feel threatened by fiction. Without villains, there can be no heroes. My job is to tell the best story I can, and I can't do that if I'm afraid of offending people.
"This is good, right? Your dad wants you to be free."
Draco shook his head. "No, this is not good. That's not my father. That's his conviction. The person who believes I should stick with the contract. The person who promised my life away."
"Okay, well, he looks reasonable. We'll just go straighten this out."
Draco didn't budge.
"You don't have to be afraid of him," Harry said. "This is just a dream and you're not a child anymore. Your father doesn't own you."
Behind them, Emerald leaned in apologetically. "My dad says, children aren't given to people. They're entrusted to them for safe-keeping. Like jewels."
She rushed her words, as if she could somehow fail at delivering them, then flushed from daring to intrude with her thoughts.
"Yeah, like that." Harry smiled politely, appreciating the third-party wisdom. He had no idea what Emerald was doing there, but he trusted Severus's judgment by now and wanted to make her feel included.
"Mr. Malfoy! Time is of the essence. Did you or did you not request negotiations today?"
Draco's heart did that thing, where it felt like a jellied mass extruding itself from inside out. That's exactly how he'd felt as a child, when faced with his father's displeasure. Suddenly, a childhood obsession with sea cucumbers, reminded him of being repulsed and fascinated. They expel their guts, which was exactly what he'd ended up doing in that room that day. His guts lay on the floor. Had the little boy who'd turned in drawings and book reports, known that his fear of his father connected him to those creatures? And connected him to the day when he'd have to touch that thing that had just fallen out of his body?
"Draco." Harry shook him.
Just then, laughter and bare feet echoed around them. Something white and blurred ran past. It was so fast, Draco made an effort to adjust his vision.
Harry asked, "What was that?"
"Draco Malfoy!"
"You better go." Harry nudged him.
On jellied legs, Draco started forward. But something came up from his right side, approaching with timeless speed, and brushed so close to the front of his jeans, that he stopped to keep from running into it. Tiny feet carried it off to the other side of him.
His mind froze on the white garment that it wore. Its tiny head filled with swirls of pale hair. Its laughter bubbled up from non-verbal delight. Its face dashed by, too quickly to see. It was the size of a toddler and moved with ethereal abandon. Not a child learning to walk, but one gliding on effortlessness.
No one had to be told who the child was. The impossibility of it, rained over Draco and drenched him in hope. He turned, looking for it. It vanished as suddenly as it came.
"Draco, what the hell?"
"Did you see him? He's here. He's alive here. Did you see him?"
When Harry was slow to answer, he directed the question to Emerald, needing someone to say yes. She nodded eagerly.
That was all he needed. "Oh my god, where is he?"
In answer, the little boy appeared again, this time dashing by Harry and running forward in front of Draco. Too tiny to be real. Too animated to be sad. Too alive, to be anything else.
Before Harry could stop him, Draco took off after him.
"Draco!" He and Emerald followed.
The child had eclipsed all other intentions. Draco ran deeper into the room. But instead of meeting with the table and its occupants ahead, he ran into the narrow confines of a paved road and gate. The hall was gone, and a stretch of wooded road lay in its place. He looked back to make sure Harry was there. Sure enough, he and Emerald emerged from the lit hall behind them, out into the forest with him.
"Holy shit!" Harry said. The abrupt change conjured feelings of dread. Like being lost. Somewhere he shouldn't be. Somewhere he remembered. A grave yard. A curse. A really bad man who would've killed the world to get a drop of his blood.
"We shouldn't have gotten off the path."
"This is the path," Draco told him. He shouted out, "Hello! Where are you?"
Harry and Emerald knew who he meant.
"Listen, I don't think that's your kid."
"Who else could it be?" Draco searched around frantically.
"Your baby was much younger than that. We should watch out for tricks. This is literally your mind playing tricks on you. And now the committee's gone."
"Screw the committee. He's the one who needs me."
Behind them, Emerald stared into the trees. They were a very dense evergreen, and she felt like she was being watched. The sky was a sunless dusk and evening breezes, so reminiscent of the ones she knew, gave her goose bumps. Again, her body took in all 360 degrees of her surroundings, adapting to it. She wondered what it would be like to be lost in someone else's mind. Apparently, just like being lost in the world. Only things changed rapidly. A flash of white caught her eye.
"There he is," she pointed.
Ahead at the gate, the little body stood still. He held a finger to his chin and grinned at them. His little gown blew in a wind that had nothing to do with physical weather.
"Oh my goodness," she swooned. "He's so sweet!"
Draco moved across the pavement hypnotically, afraid to move too fast. Afraid to scare him away.
"What's he wearing?"
"A christening gown." He didn't know how he knew, he just knew. It made no sense, but they were in pictures of his ancestors, so maybe muggle fashions had made their way into their traditions, even if their beliefs hadn't.
He approached cautiously. "Hi, sweetheart." The endearment rolled out of him effortlessly. It was easy to say, when he felt it. "It's me. You know me, right?"
As he neared, the child's face became more and more beatific. Chubby cheeks pinked, to be the center of his attention. Tiny teeth revealed themselves behind a gushing, open smile. And light emitted from wonderment, beheld in irises of heaven-blue. All of this turned up at Draco and reached out to him with dimpled, outstretched arms. The minute Draco reached back, the little boy shrieked delightedly and ran through the gate.
"Oh my god, Harry! He's playing with me. He's not sad at all."
Harry didn't know what to say. It didn't seem wise to encourage Draco to see only what he wanted to see. "We should go back to the committee. Let's get that over with."
Draco ignored him. He went up to the gate and knelt down. The child took a few steps back, like a timid puppy. He caught sight of pudgy feet and cute little toes. "You don't seem angry with me."
He reached to touch the gown, to see if he could. All that sweetness called him. "You're perfect."
His fingers missed their mark as the child backed out of his reach. The sense of loss, wafted through the gate like smoke. He leaned back and stood up. He took a better look at the gate. It was just an iron framework for an entrance. There were no sides. Clearings on either side, gave way to trees. At the top, the metal work read 'Cemetery.'
It hit him. He was in his own dream, after all. Instead of giving in to sadness, he smiled at his son. "I'm gonna love you, anyway. I want you to know that I didn't mean to hurt you. I didn't know what I was doing. I didn't know what I had, and I'm sorry. If I could do it all over again, I'd keep you. I'd take you far away, and I'd raise you, myself. I've survived so much shit, there's nothing an infant can do to me. I know that now."
"Draco." Harry called him.
"I know this is a dream. A symbol. But whatever you're really like, please forgive me. You have a right to live. I just wasn't ready."
"Draco!"
He turned. He didn't have to ask what Harry was so alarmed about. Darkness came rolling from the sky behind them, as if the sun were setting phenomenally fast and pushing the atmosphere ahead of the night. Growls rode the wind. Ions charged the air. Leaves turned underside up, in a storm-like anticipation.
Emerald hugged herself and moved closer to Harry. "Why is it changing? What are those?"
Something hugged the corners of the sky, blended with the dark, and raced in camouflaged clouds, down to the earth. A storm of dirt and debris preceded it, causing Harry to throw his body over Draco's, in an attempt to shield him from a dervish of unidentifiable shadows. A second later, he thought of Emerald, and shouted for her. Over his shoulder, he saw her cover her head and squat. She screamed. He had to make a decision to leave Draco or go to her. He cursed. She was only sixteen, after all.
Pressing Draco to the gate, he told him, "I'll be right back." He was more worried about Draco trying to go through, than anything. He started towards Emerald, and saw her suddenly stand. She threw out her arms, her hands clamping the dark around them. Something hit her from behind. Pushed her, when she'd unfolded her body. She stumbled forward, but braced her footing. Her hands moved involuntarily with something that wanted to be free of them. She looked at what she held. Screamed, and let them go.
Harry couldn't be sure, but he thought he'd seen winged things. Winged people. Humanoid. Misshapen. Instead of skin, they were covered with the kind of fuzzy pelt found on antlers. That was their skin. Slate gray, and blended with shadows. They were flying so fast overhead, they were only visible when stopped. In flight, and in great numbers, they looked like billowing black clouds against the night.
This wasn't supposed to be a hostile environment.
He grabbed Emerald and tried to push her down next to Draco. But the gate was gone. It sat meters away. Draco sprawled as if it had just gotten away from him. He took off after it. Harry ran too, grabbing Emerald. How was he supposed to keep up with both of them, and what was the point of all this shit?
"Draco! You're imagining these," He yelled. Those winged things struck his body. They were hitting him with an impact many times stronger than they looked capable of, they way Emerald had held them.
"What are these things?"
Emerald was having a hard time of it. They grasped her hair and jerked her head. Her body was pummeled so hard, Harry lost hold of her. Ahead, Draco stopped. He had to. There was no where else to go. The committee table emerged before him. People seated at it, looked like they were fastened in and riding it like some sort of passenger plane, from one destination to another. Lucius sat at the center.
He raised his hand, and the flying creatures let go of Harry and Emerald. They raced over Lucius's head and swarmed the gates. They clamored over each other. Now that they were no longer airborne, they resembled bats with spindly wings, until their little human heads turned to look back at Harry. They clutched and scrambled over each other, with hand-like appendages and human looking feet.
"Well, well. Caught trying to see the child, are we?" Lucius sounded bored rather than surprised.
"You should've thought of that before you left him here with us. That's the third time this week that you've attempted to see him. You know what that means. And now that you've removed the only thing tricking your body into still thinking he's with you, I'm afraid the punishment will be more severe."
Draco got to his feet. "Father?"
"Don't try to appease me now. I've done all I can to help you. You know the rules. You should, you've agreed to them."
"And don't be too easy on him," a new voice at the table spoke up. "He never even told me that I had a son. I could've helped them both."
To his father's left, Kevin lit a cigarette. He exhaled, regarding Draco with a tense stare and slouching body. He leaned, shifting his weight to the side of his chair's high back.
"Kevin!"
Harry looked from him to Draco. He took notice of whom else sat at the table. There was a woman who stood out. She could've represented his mother, but she was glowing angelically, and seemed undisturbed by anything around her. Something told Harry that she wasn't just a witch. She must've been a deity. He picked out the so-called gods from the humans. There was an actual blue person, right out of the pages of Hindu religion. Shiva. The male god of destruction and renewal. A pretty laid back version of Jesus, wearing a Hawaiian shirt and Buddha a pin, waved at Harry.
Harry whispered, "Draco, this is just a dream. That's not Kevin, and that's not your father."
Kevin heard this. "Oh yeah?" He leaned forward, took a long drag, and blew it in Harry's direction. Something like a fireball, small as a bullet, hit Harry square in the forehead. "That's for the bruise with the implant. We didn't like that, shorty."
The fire-bullet pushed his head back. It was more than air and illusion. He staggered. A wave of pain dropped him to one knee.
Emerald looked at Kevin. "You jerk!"
"Serves him right. He thinks he can just walk into my empire, and start changing things around. Me and Draco don't need him solving our business for us. And missy, you are way out of your league. You need to find some dolls and make-believe your way back to your daddy, because you have no idea what could happen to you here."
Harry stood. "What the hell's that supposed to mean?"
Lucius answered. "It means, Mr. Potter, that you have left the world of man-made laws and a system of magic so bland that everyone is on the same skill level. This is a private world, made of private preferences. We bow to no law, except those we make up ourselves, as we go along. And little girls should not be running around in a place like this, if they value their safety."
That was all the threat he needed to hear, before grabbing Emerald and telling her to stay behind him.
"Draco! These people are just you judging yourself. And they're horrible people."
Draco turned to him, "Which makes me a horrible person."
"Please don't start that again. You came to change the contract. Tell them."
He had forgotten that that was an option and a goal. He turned back to the table. He couldn't say that he recognized everyone there. Some faces were still in shadows.
"Harry, the real gods, the ones my father made the promises to, they're in the shadows. We can't see their faces. The ones we see, are minor gods. They don't have as much power."
Lucius chuckled. "I'm merely here in an administrative capacity. I don't want to see you punished anymore than anyone else. The ones back here, they're calling the shots." He pointed to the shadowed people sitting behind him. They were not there when the table first appeared, and they appeared to peek out at them as if in mid-conversation with one another.
"They were promised a child, and you broke that promise. Do you even know what a child is?"
Draco shook his head.
Harry hissed, "Yes you do!"
"I want them to tell me."
"It's magic. Their magic. The only way they have of setting foot on soil. Of swimming in the sea and running through a field. Nothing can be felt, tasted, or touched, without a body to translate those exquisite things into sensation. Without a child, we're everything and nothing all at once, yearning to make structures and experiences for ourselves. Haven't you ever wondered why their eyes are so bright? That's not innocence. That's eagerness to live all the possibilities within us. Even the ones you fear. We can't die, but you can, so you're 'fraidy cats. But you're also us, and you play the game, as we do.
"We have all the power in the world, can't even die, completely self-aware, and no where to go. We must come through you. Through your children. We must wind ourselves down into your human tissues. Then we can play. We can have adventures, we can run amok in any universe we want, all the while masquerading as upright and moral citizens, who are so afraid we're going to melt if someone touches us the wrong way.
"We are indestructible. We take turns killing each other because it's so much fun when the death of those bodies shoot us up, into a stratosphere of life that we denied ever existing when we were using them, it is a thrill ride like you've never seen. Oh, and don't get me started on sex. Your race has mastered guilt and shame so fine tuned, that the mere thought of having genitalia, makes us fight amongst ourselves to claim wombs and live chilling tales of forbidden pleasure.
"Children are our only escape from being everything and everyone, every second of a timeless existence. Children are the only way we can walk on those feats of engineering that you call, feet. We must have them. Before you were born, you were one of us. You said, 'let me go first. That way, I can guarantee you a child. Someone else may not do that. You said you'd prepare one for us. You said you'd give birth to it yourself. You said it was ours. And we could all enjoy flowing our magic through it. You made us dream. We dreamt such a lovely little body. Perfect for having a great life. That doesn't mean happy, but that does mean adventure. Our magic is the very definition of happy, so we sign up for roles that make us cry, for the entertainment value.
"We gave you the body at the appropriate time. Then you destroyed that body before anyone could use it. Of course, you have free will. But we were really fucking hurt by that. And because you know you deserve it, we're constantly reminding you what you did to us. That isn't some helpless, hungry soul, squalling for a mommy who will never come. That's us. The child at the gate? That's us. That's what you could've had, if you weren't so goddamn scared of who you are."
Harry clinched his fist. He wished he had something to throw. "Don't you dare talk to him like that! You have no idea what it's like to be human. Sometimes, that's almost nothing but fear. If he wasn't ready, he did that kid a fucking favor. You have no right to punish him for doing what he had to do."
The Lucius thing looked intrigued. "Oh look. Your champion is upset. I do so love a champion. Unfortunately, Mr. Potter, his gods don't give a fuck what you have to say. Draco must speak up for himself."
"Draco, tell them. Tell them that once it became your life, you had to make choices for you, not for them. These are bullies, not gods, you have to defend yourself."
Draco looked lost. He'd listened to the Lucius-thing's words, just a little too much.
Kevin blew smoke through his nose. "A child is too valuable a promise, to be taken from us. If I'd known I was going to be a father, my whole life would've changed. I would've been a better man for you, Draco. I would've stood up to your father for you. I loved you that much. You know what it is to make a mistake, yet you hold me to standards you couldn't live up to, yourself. I may have stolen money, I may have accepted bribes and slept around, but I have never killed a baby, just because it was inconvenient."
Harry ran up to the table. "You've never been pregnant. You're just using his fears against him. A person as weak as you are, would've been out of there at the first mention of a kid. You're the one who didn't deserve it."
Kevin stood up. "You want to challenge me, little man? That's your first real boyfriend. That's cute. I get more ass a week, than you've seen your whole life. Let me tell ya something. If you're lucky enough to get a piece of that," he pointed at Draco, "You have me to thank for breaking him in for you. Remember that when you slide in there."
Harry jumped, pulling himself up on the table. It took too much effort and seconds lost, to take the swing he wanted. Kevin had time to kick him, shoving him backwards.
"Stop it!" Draco yelled. "I didn't come here to fight. Severus said that all I had to do, was change the contract and I don't know how. He said he'd guide me."
Harry saw him lower himself and put his head in his hands.
"Draco, they have to do what you tell them. They're you. Don't believe what their saying."
The Lucius thing checked his watch. "It's time for your punishment, Draco. Let's get it over with."
Harry had no idea what was happening, he appealed to the other people sitting at the table. "Doesn't anyone else have anything helpful to say? You're supposed to be divinity. One of you should love him enough to protect him."
He turned to the glowing woman who resembled Narcissa. "You, you're like a mother archetype. Tell them that Draco didn't mean any harm. You must know that he didn't mean to hurt his baby. Where's the good in his beliefs?"
She smiled with laughter behind it, and looked at him with tender pity. Beside her, a witch wearing a sheer black top with a sequined collar and hat, decided to help Harry out. "She doesn't talk to humans, and she doesn't feel their pain. Draco cut himself off from her help when he decided he'd rather be afraid of what people think, than happy. If he wants her help, and she could fix everything, he has to decide that he wants to be happy more than he wants to be "morally upstanding."
She included the air quotes. "The two are oil and water. It ain't his job to make the world happy. I personally want to be a kid again, to raise as much hell as I can. We can't support Draco, if he's just gonna suppress us for fear of hurting someone. That's like he's hurting us instead. He's making a choice to hurt us. We don't just have magic, we are magic. Not slaves, in a world where we have to please anyone. Until he gets that, he'll have to suffer."
Harry couldn't believe it. "He doesn't want to hurt anyone. What's wrong with making a few rules to keep that from happening? What's the kid got to do with it?"
She gave him a hateful look. "Magic is children. It's us! His rules cut off his magic. They cut off his baby. They cut off our help. We gave him the best magic we had, and he went back on his promise. Now shove off, this ain't your committee."
He backed away. Behind him, Draco wept into his hands. Harry rushed to him. "Draco, it's just a dream. They're saying things that you tell yourself deep inside every day, to punish yourself. They're your inner dialogue. You're not cut off from your magic. Your dragon thrives. Tell them. This is your life and you want out of that damn contract now."
Draco put his hands to his ears and slammed his face from side to side. At first, Harry thought it was an attempt to block him out, but then he saw that he was in so much pain, the corners of his eyes were rimmed in blood. He was crying blood.
Harry yelled at the Lucius thing. "What's wrong with him? What are you doing to him?"
"Ah, that is his own idea. Ingenious. At the moment, he is experiencing every moment of shame he has ever endured. He knows we're dreams and thoughts. That doesn't lessen the pain, and therefore doesn't make it any less real to the pressures in his brain. It's fitting. Mourning for the child by putting himself through this punishment, he will use up all of his magic by the time he's thirty. Then, what's left keeping his body alive, will diminish. And one night, it'll be a dream such as this, that finally bursts the artery currently leaking in his brain. He'll remember not to make promises so lightly in the future."
Harry grabbed Draco and shook. "Dammit, you're not this stupid. Why are you listening to dreams? To fake authorities? You're the one who gets to decide what things mean to you. Your baby, could just have easily been the most liberating decision you've ever made in your life. Draco, snap out of it. You fly dragons, for fuck sake. Nobody tells you how to feel about your own decisions. Nobody has that right, not one goddamn god or parent, or whatever the hell that alien-blue person is."
Draco had some weird ideas about reality, but who didn't? No one knew everything. Fuck, people barely knew anything.
He wasn't responding and Harry started to panic. "If you succumb to this, you'll never get to see your baby again. He was right there. They have him. Demand him back."
His eyes fluttered, focusing again. "They have my son?"
"They've always had him. He doesn't need you to feed him because he never became physical. You kept him in the dream, where he could always be perfect and unharmed. You made the right decision."
Draco blinked at him. It was a little disconcerting, because his eyes had to flush the blood away. Harry would've given anything for a wand to rinse them. "Doesn't anybody have some fucking magic to spare a cleansing charm in this place?"
"Harry, I can't see." When he wiped his eyes, blood smeared the whole of his face.
Off to the side, Emerald cried for him. She uncovered her face and looked at her hands. The same hands that had grabbed the flying creatures, involuntarily. They felt heavy with strength. Strength she wasn't using. Without asking anyone's permission, she ran to the table of Draco's gods and snatched the picture of water, half expecting it to vanish before she could get to him.
Lucius stood. "See here, young lady. Give that back." But he didn't cross the table. She gave the water to Harry, who poured it slowly over Draco's face, and into his hands.
He roused, splashing it into his eyes and rubbing them. "Hell, I thought I was blind. Where's all this blood coming from?"
"Shame." Harry and Emerald said it at the same time.
Harry said, "You're going to bleed it, every day of your life, until the end, if you don't demand a change in your agreements. Your committee is killing you."
He stared at them, squinting through dripping lashes. "Why do you two look so different?"
"So, you're not hurting anymore? There's no pressure in your head?"
"No. Harry, I see bands of light everywhere. Colors. Even the trees have magic. Auras. Your magic, it takes up all the space around you. It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."
Harry and Emerald looked at each other.
"And you," Draco said to her. "What happened to you? You're so big."
Suspicions had Harry sniffing the picture of water. "Oh my god." He turned it up, gulping, and handed it to Emerald. "Drink. It's their water. Food of the gods. Ambrosia. In Draco's mind, it sustains their magic. His head is filled with so much mythology, it's all running together. We're not talking to anything real. We're talking to his superstitions. His fears."
He shoved it at her and encouraged her to hurry. But none of the committee made any move to stop them. Most of them merely sat looking annoyed. Only the beautiful deity clapped silently at them.
Harry's vision adjusted itself blearily. The liquid was more than water. He felt his cells singing to climb to some higher mode of operation. Draco's hair and eyes appeared to glow with untapped magic. Emerald's whole body was glowing. She stood, robust, and a foot taller than they knew her to be. She kept looking at her hands and saying, "I feel so strong."
They looked at the table with new eyes. Lucius wasn't smiling back. His lips thinned with fury. "Everything here is made of magic, and you have no right to taste mine. You threw your own away."
His face trembled. "You threw me away. Like garbage. I offered you love, and you rejected me. You hated me. Why do you come here now?"
Draco straightened. The energy behind his father's image, wasn't the same. And even as he watched, it began to let go of its form. Lucius pushed himself up on the table, but by the time he found his balance and stood, he was no longer the height of a grown man. He stood only two feet tall, with swirling hair and an ivory christening gown. His toddler hands came together, soundlessly grasping each other. His pout warned that he was not happy.
The sight tore a cry from Draco. He bent, mouth open, as if someone had punched his stomach. He reached out to the child with one hand, and covered the shocked gasps coming out of his mouth with the other. Harry caught him.
"That's not your son. That's your fear that he's angry with you."
After staring at Draco condemningly, the toddler jumped down. The leap would've hurt a normal child on such tiny feet and thin ankles. This one ran the length of the table and turned, vanishing behind it. Draco tore from Harry's arms and chased him. Harry and Emerald followed once again. But this time, the shadows that were seated behind the human speakers, rose up. They filled out into substantial bodies. Fur, teeth, and talons. But they didn't look like anything Harry had ever seen from the magical world. No eyes were visible. Oversized, human lips stretch to expose multiple rows of serated teeth. They were like a child's version of monsters he'd seen a thousand times. Exaggerated and made worse, with each movie and frightening experience. In fact, the more Harry looked back at them, the more they were sadly ineffective in appearance. He'd conquered his childhood fears by growing bored with muggle cinema and horror stories, so Draco's monsters were pitiful to him.
He told Emerald, "Here come the demons. Don't let them scare you, they're nothing."
But he had to admit, as they got closer, they brought fear with them, and that was their power. Their reputation. Evil didn't have to lift a finger, as long as people were scared.
Draco got to the gate, slamming into it, just as the child squeezed through. "Come back!"
The bat creatures scattered, screeching up into the air. They swarmed around him.
Once out of reach, the child stood still and simply stared at Draco, emanating blame.
Harry wasn't sure why they didn't just go around the gate. The demons left them no choice. He grabbed Draco and swung him around, trying to get him on the other side of the cemetery gate. An invisible jolt knocked Draco back six feet, into the monsters that were chasing them.
Harry watched, horrified, as those creatures lifted Draco's body and tossed him deeper into their fold. He had no wand. He had magic, but no idea how to use it against them. Draco's scream disappeared into the throng of muscular fur and teeth. Harry saw his shirt leave his body, and the last of his skin fade from sight.
That was enough. It scared him enough to make him forget that it wasn't real. Draco would be okay. He'd be waiting on him, when this all ended. When were they going to wake up? When were they going to be released from this trance?
Those demons might've been imaginary, but they were intimidating, and Harry couldn't say for sure what would've happened if they touched him. He stopped caring the minute he could no longer see Draco. He stopped trying to run. Maybe this was like the dragon. Maybe he had to go inside, to free him. He started forward, but found himself slammed into the gate.
Emerald had him by the shirt. She was now a solid two feet taller than before. Her body mass had thickened exponentially. Her homely sweater and embroidered jeans were gone, replaced by a brown, gauze-thin, shroud that could've been a gown, or could've been a cloak. It fluctuated between ephemeral and fur. Her hair whipped out of control, over wolf-shaped ears that had no fur, but held a canine mold. Her muscles were as veined as any body-builder's, and her grip hurt as bad as the bars that she pressed him against. She leaned over him, her breasts threatening to spill from their flimsy concealment, and wrenched the iron apart. When she had them far enough, she pushed him through them and turned and growled at Draco's worst fears.
From the ground, he saw her dive into them. Her thighs and calves made three of his, as she kicked her way to the center of their evil. They were supernatural creatures. So was she. Harry saw it. Her wolf form. Her genetic heritage from Remus. In this place, it was a part of her magic. She needed no wand to use it. The creatures she fought, were not going to die or even suffer harm, but they had to move when she pulled them off. And when she slammed them on the ground, they seemed reluctant to come at her again. Some, she ripped apart. She simply started tearing at them, to get to Draco, not caring what arm or head belonged to any of them. This wasn't a place where things had to stay dead, Harry knew, and they got up. But something about her, put them off, and she made her way to the center.
When she lifted Draco out, his coughs told Harry that he was still alive. His air had been cut off, smothered under the attack, and wounds lacerated him from head to toe. But he opened his eyes as Emerald carried him to Harry. Above them, the bat creatures revamped their attack. They used their bodies like bullets and the momentum of their swarm, to charge Emerald.
"We have to get out of here." He bent and kissed Draco's fevered head. "She can't fight every creature you throw at her, indefinitely."
He heard something like a whine, and looked up. The child's blue eyes and delicate beauty stood ahead of him. He gave Harry a leap of insight.
He tried to talk to it. "Your dad. He's hurt. Can you help him? This is your dad. He loves you and he didn't mean to hurt you."
It was worth a try. That kid didn't look like it was about to listen to anything. Harry couldn't help but be bothered by the idea that it was really some version of Lucius walking around in that little body. Instead of inching away, as it had been. It took a step closer.
Draco stirred in his arms, opened his eyes, and twisted out of them. It was as if the mere presence of the child woke him into action. Once he saw it, he paused. Harry knew what he was thinking. If he runs after it, he's never going to catch him.
"Stop chasing him, Draco. If he wants to be with you, he'll come to you. If not, you can let him go. He doesn't need you the way you think he does. You tried. The contract knows you tried."
Draco's body shook with the urge to chase what he wanted. But his resigned expression admitted that Harry was right. He turned pleading eyes on his child, and said, "Okay, okay. You're so perfect. I want you to know that. There was nothing ever wrong with you. I didn't reject you. I don't hate you. I was scared. You don't know what that's like, because you live here with so much magic. You come and go as you please. You don't have to fear anything. There, I'd have to restrict you. I'd have to be grown up, and punish you. I'd have to make you sad. Seeing doctors, getting shots, eating healthy and making you go to bed. I'd train you to feel helpless without meaning to. Lonely. If I don't know how to deal with those things, how can I give anything of value to you? I'd train you to hate me, to blame adults for what bothers you, then you'd know how to blame yourself, and you'd never be free again. I didn't want to subject you to that life, to my screw ups. To my depression. So I didn't let you through."
He thought about what he wanted to leave the child with. "If you must go, I hope you find rest. I hope you find a way back again, to parents who can give you the love you deserve. I wish I could hold you at least once. But I had my chance, and I accept that you don't want me touching you. But I do love you. In my own way. I do want you. I just want life to be great for you, and until I figure out how to make that happen, I don't want you setting one perfect toe in it. You're too good for my world. You're too wonderful. If you have to run from me, then take that with you. As your dad, that's what I would have you know, if I can never see you again. At least, I got to tell you."
The child's head tilted. Its brow puzzled over what it was seeing. Draco braced himself to endure the rejection that he once inflicted on his son. Instead, those pink feet turned its little body to face him. They teetered, like a living toddler, and found their balance. Draco's heart leapt to see his son walk to him. He waited, to make sure it was real. Real enough to act on. Those short, plump arms grabbed his leg, and the child hung on, placing his head against his knee. Draco's hand trembled upon touching his hair. Strands warmed beneath his palm, and the child looked up at him.
He fell into those eyes and bent to lift him at the same time. Harry took a step back, amazed.
Draco didn't make a sound, didn't yelp in delight, and didn't swing him around in some fairy tale reunion. He simply held him close and absorbed all of him that he could. He didn't ask if the baby scents he smelled, were real. Perfumed powders and plastic nappies. He simply let himself savor them. Hallucinations could come through any of the senses, he wasn't about to ruin the moment by testing it in any way. His son felt so good in his arms, he wanted to open his eyes and find the two of them at home, as if the last five years were nothing but a dream. If this was all parenthood consisted of, loving and being loved, he could do it. He could do it.
He was so thankful for the moment, the chance to speak his heart, that he lost all connection with Harry and Emerald. Beside him, Harry leaned in. "Draco, we need your dragon now. Call him."
Something in the strain of Harry's voice, opened his eyes. Behind him, Emerald tried to pull herself through the gate. She was being attacked by both demons and bat creatures. Every time she got close, they pulled her back. Even they couldn't seem to go around the gate. The cemetery was some sort of sanctuary from monsters, unless there were more inside. But the billow of his son's gown and the smile between his happy cheeks, said there was only peace inside the gate.
He looked to the horizon. This was his magic. The good, the ugly, the undefinable. He closed his eyes and summoned his dragon.
Their fight was over within minutes. Most of the creatures ran when they saw it. Those that tried to fight it, were disintegrated by green flames. Emerald made her way through and jumped on the dragon's back with them. They took off over the landscape of Draco's dreams and nightmares, leaving his committee behind.