Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters, much to my annoyance. JKR does. I own nothing but the writing.
Warning: This is M/M SLASH so if you have objections to that, don't read this.
Title: Dragonweed
"The mind is its own place, and in itself
Can make a Heaven of Hell, a Hell of Heaven"
John Milton, "Paradise Lost"
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CHAPTER 3 – Water Lilies
--- Draco ---
My arms are flailing feebly, splashing up the black water, but it's too strong, it's dragging me down. Something underneath the surface is calling me with cold, frightening strength. I'm trying to fight it but I'm too weak. I turn my head and see something floating and bobbing on the surface next to me. Water lilies, ghostly-looking white water lilies. When they come closer I see that each of them holds a drop of pearly substance, and I know that it's a human soul. Each of the water lilies holds the soul of a dead human being, and I know I'm the one who has killed them. The water turns thick and red and I know that I am the cause of this bloodshed. There is blood on my hands. My clothes are soaked in it. It's dripping from my hair. I'm swimming in a lake of human blood. I know I must be punished. I know I'm going to have to pay with my own life. I'm too weak to hold my face above the surface any longer, and when I feel the blood seep into my mouth I scream.
I wake up, still screaming.
It's the third time this week I have had this dream. I lie still and stare into the dark, trying to control my breathing. Blaise Zabini moans and mutters something as he turns in his bed next to mine. My hair is damp with sweat and my heart is pounding.
I've never been afraid of solitude. Why should I be afraid of dying? Death is only the ultimate, deep solitude. There is a certain beauty in that thought.
--- Harry ---
I can't sleep. I've never suffered from insomnia before, which is a little strange, when you think about it. Some of the things I have lived through are so dark I have to move my mind away from them to keep my sanity. They lie there hidden in their caves like hideous sea monsters, and I skim the surface above them, careful not to disturb it, gingerly skating on the surface tension like a water insect. But these things have never prevented me from sleeping.
Being in love does.
This is almost like another tri-wizard tournament task. In its own way, it's more difficult than fighting Voldemort. With him, the sides are clearly defined. There is no doubt about the loyalties. But in this battle I'm helpless, for how do you fight love? A good deal of our time here at Hogwarts has been dedicated to Defense Against the Dark Arts. But when it comes to love, we are all left without defenses.