Author's Note: Hmm, I've been pretty bad about updating for a while huh? *hits self* Bad Elena! Haha, anyways, hope you like this, believe me, it's just a filler chap. Hopefully something will actually happen in the next chapter…

Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue.

~*~*~Eyes Wide Shut: Ch.4-Cocoon~*~*~

They will see us waving from such great heights

"Come down now," they'll say,
But everything looks perfect from far away,
"Come down now," but we'll stay...

-Such Great Heights, by Postal Service

Somewhere far away, yet infinitely close, past time and space and any other dimension you can think of, a small light shone from a secluded cave. Inside, gathered tightly around a glowing orb, four tinted black shadows flickered in and out of the cave.

The dark green shadow was completely silent, and the most still of the four, though every once in a while it would whip to the side like a branch of fire. Next to it, a reddish black shadow was humming softly as it moved in a complex, unchoreographed dance. The darkest shadow, a deep black one, was also the smallest, and it seemed to shrink even more as time went on. Seemingly staring intently into the orb, a bluish violet shadow was moving in place, shaking its head from side to side sadly.

Finally, the orb between them all faded to black, and a spasm shuddered through all four. The shadows stopped their individual movements and sank back.

"It's done," announced the blue violet shadow. The other three stayed silent.

*~*~*

A little past one in the morning, four students woke up simultaneously, gasping for breath and shaking from fear.

*~*~*

Harry groped at his bedside table for his glasses, and jammed them on before laying back against the pillows, hands clutching the sheets right above his heart. It was beating quickly, and Harry finally realized what people meant by the saying, "my heart hammering in my chest." That was exactly what it felt like to him, as if his heart might actually break through his ribcage.

He'd had the same dream again.

It was almost exactly the same as before. The main difference was in what had occurred once he found the clearing again.

"You're back!" The girl had cried, eyes shining happily.

Harry's face had hardened as his eyes flicked over her and the knife lying on the ground. In a few strides, he was standing next to her, and he roughly hauled the girl to her feet.

"I want an explanation," Harry ground out through his teeth.

Her blue eyes flashed with worry. "What?"

"You heard me!" He barked, shaking her slightly.

She hissed in pain, and Harry realized he had been grabbing one of her cuts. Shocked at his own actions, he dropped her, and stared at the blood on his hands in horror. Harry looked down at her.

He'd barely even looked at her before he'd grabbed her, but now he had the time to sweep his eyes over her body. She looked the same as before, except that her cuts were somehow different. Like they'd shifted. 'Well, it is a dream,' Harry thought while shuddering. Her body was horrifying, with the blood-stained skin and shiny scars. His eyes focused in on a few old looking scar down her arm; they spelled the word LOVE in big block letters.

Not knowing what else to do, he dropped to his knees next to her. She had abandoned rubbing her arm and was now playing with the dirt, tracing patterns into it. Harry was again struck by the childlike quality her actions possessed.

"I'm sorry," he muttered. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

She barely acknowledged him, just shrugging her bare shoulders slightly.

"I am," he persisted desperately. "I'm just scared and confused I guess."

She laughed bitterly. "We all are."

There was silence for a moment longer. It weighed down heavily upon Harry's tongue, making it hard for him to even speak at all. Finally he stammered out another question.

"So what is your name?"

The girl ignored him. She stood up, and he noticed that the most recent cut was still bleeding, though she made no move to staunch the crimson flow.

"Please." Harry barely even recognized his voice with such a piteous tone. "Please, please tell me. I have to know."

There was a sigh. "You'll never know until you trust me, and you'll never trust me until you know that I'm real." She sighed again, hopelessly, and waved her hand vaguely at him. He found his body shooting back through some mist, and soon she was lost from view.

Harry suddenly felt stifled under the thick covers as he remembered her words. Casting them off, he saw his cuts from the first dream. They were surprisingly small, just thin little lines of faded red along his forearm. Her last words. "Until you know that I'm real," she'd said.

Maybe, he thought. Just maybe.

*~*~*

Evie braced herself against the sink with shaking arms. That same stupid dream, filled with the same unbearable fire.

But this time, it was a bit different. At the very end, she'd heard a small voice. It was too hard to understand, though Evie strained to try and remember. Now that she thought about it, she wasn't even sure it had been English.

"I'm going insane," she muttered to herself, lifting her head up to gaze at her own face in the mirror. It was drawn and pale, and in the harsh light her hair was blindingly garish. She felt disgust pool in the bottom of her stomach. Evie suddenly felt the urge to punch the mirror, and shatter that hideous thing that was her own face.

Maybe not a good idea, she reflected sullenly, before exiting the bathroom and heading towards the window. She opened it as far as it would go, and shivered at the sudden change from too warm to too cold. But this at least was comforting, as the heat had not been.

The night was dark, a blue so dark it looked like a black pillow strewn with diamond stars. Absentmindedly, she thought of a portrait she'd seen in a book of Harry Potter. His hair, on the contrast, was so black it looked blue. She smiled slightly, feeling her heart speed up. And now she was in the very same school as him, even the same House. Though, as Evie reflected, he really hadn't struck her as so amazing. His hair was unkempt, his glasses huge on the small face, and only his eyes were really that remarkable, a brilliant green that shone more through the lenses.

Evie leaned heavily on her elbows and cradled her face in her hands, still deep in thought. This was all so weird and new. She could barely even believe it was real. She moved back to England after almost ten years in America, to the famous Hogwarts, complete with Harry Potter. If it hadn't been for him, she'd probably be training to be one of them right now.

Evie shook her head. She was just being idiotic now. Sighing, she crept back into bed, leaving the window open for her to stare out of as she tried in vain to get back to sleep.

*~*~*

Ginny buried her face in her hands. She'd had the exact same dream as the one on the train. The same weird house, the same blind boy. The only difference was what had happened once she'd come into the room.

The boy had apparently heard her. He'd turned and given a shy half smile.

"Hello," he'd said, before frowning. "Why are you here?"

Ginny had sat on the bed gingerly, next to him. "I don't know," she'd said. "What's your name? I saw you before, but I didn't get a chance to ask."

The boy had turned to her. She'd shivered at the feeling of those sightless eyes sliding over her. "Do you trust me?" He'd asked, his voice suddenly more anxious.

"What?"

"Do you trust me?" He was almost frantic now, leaning towards her.

"I-I," Ginny's voice had faltered. "I can't. I don't know you at all."

He'd smiled sadly. "But you have to. You have to learn. Good-bye, Ginny."

The room had started to fade from her sight, as she began to wake up, pouring sweat.

Ginny just now realized how dark it was inside the closed curtains of her canopy bed. The sweat increased, making her nightgown stick to her back and chest as she groped around for her magic light. Feeling her fingers close around the cold crystal, she sighed in relief. It took mere moments for the light to flare up again, casting a subtle glow around her and calming her nerves instantly.

She'd been sleeping with the night light ever since her second year at Hogwarts. At first her mother had fussed about letting her have the sleeping aid of toddlers, but countless nights of waking up to Ginny's tears had changed her mind. Ginny hadn't slept without it ever since.

Of course, this presented some problems. Ginny had to stop going on sleepovers, and while at Hogwarts, she had to hide the magic light from her dorm mates by closing the curtains around her bed every night. And sometimes, if it dimmed or was misplaced, she spent the night wide awake, fighting off sleep for fear of the nightmares sure to haunt it.

She knew that even with her light, she wouldn't be able to sleep again tonight. That summer, her body had become trained to sleeping with her mother's schedule. Ginny checked her alarm clock. Right now she'd be getting her mother a glass of water, then telling her a story to lure her to sleep. Automatically, she began thinking of which story to tell. Maybe it would be the fairy tale 'East of the Sun and West of the Moon.' Yes, it was her favorite story.

In her head, she started telling it from memory. Once upon a time there was a poor husbandman who had many children and little to give them in the way of either food or clothing. They were all pretty, but the prettiest of all was the youngest daughter, who was so beautiful that there were no bounds to her beauty…

*~*~*

Draco shot up in bed, tangled sheets falling to his waist. His breathing was labored as he tried to clear his head of the muddled thoughts.

He'd been dead. And a Death Eater. All the Hogwarts students had been visiting, though none looked happy about it. Draco felt a shiver run through him, and he automatically wrapped the bed sheet tight around his shoulders, though it did little to help.

Draco leaned against the headboard, feeling the engravings dig into his back. And then Potter and the trio had walked by. He remembered the look of utter disgust on his rival's face, as if Draco had been barely more than something to wipe his nose with. "And Weasley," he murmured. Walking by, the redhead had just spit on his tombstone. Right near the engraving stating, "In death, his soul shall be saved."

Draco swallowed and sat up quietly, planning on heading towards the Hospital Wing for some Dreamless Sleep potion. His bare feet shuffled silently over the cold stone floor, and Draco shivered before wrapping himself in his robe he'd draped carelessly over the back of his chair.

One perk of being Head Boy, Draco had to admit, was the room. It was beautiful, with a huge four-poster bed, spacious desk, and just general extra space. Sure, it was nearer to the staff room than he'd like, and Granger's Head Girl room was just down the hall, but he still wouldn't give it up for anything.

Draco shoved these thoughts out of his head and walked quicker in the direction of the Infirmary. Not that he'd admit it to anyone, but Hogwarts was eerie at night. The flickering torches cast gloomy shadows against the wall, and the suits of armor lining the corridor stood in silent judgment. He wrapped the robes tighter around his slim waist.

Within minutes he arrived at the Hospital Wing, and he pushed through impatiently. Madam Pomfrey was dozing in the chair in her open office, but at his entrance she awoke with a start. She was infamous in Hogwarts for being a very light sleeper.

"Yes, Mister Malfoy?" She asked him, her voice hardly betraying the fact that she had been asleep a few moments ago.

"I need a Dreamless Sleep Potion," said Draco.

Her face became slightly graver, and the nurse nodded quietly. While rummaging through a cabinet for his potion, she began to speak again.

"It's sad. So many students had been in here asking for that same Potion last year, I went ahead and made double our quota for this year!" Her voice was becoming annoying and Draco began to filter it out, till finally he heard her bustle back over. "Here you are. This should be enough for tonight, come back if you need anymore tomorrow."

Draco took it wordlessly and started to leave. Her cheerful manner was getting on his nerves. How dare she be so carefree and happy, when he was here suffering from this horrible nightmare? Even as he thought it, he knew it was irrational, but at that point, it didn't much matter anymore.

Once he was back in bed, he drained the vial in one gulp and almost instantly dropped back against the pillows, feeling the soft waves of sleep billow around and finally overcome him.

*~*~*

Harry and Ron were standing by the foot of the stairs leading to the girl's dorm. Harry had his head leaning against the wall, half dozing as he waited for Hermione. It was annoying that she took so long. He racked his brain, but couldn't remember if she'd taken so long to get ready last year.

He felt Ron's eyes on him, and he grudgingly turned to look at his friend. "What?" He snapped irritably.

Ron hastily looked away. "Nothing," he said. Then, a little bit later, "You sleep okay?"

"I slept okay," Harry said uneasily as he remembered his dream. It had faded a bit, so now it just nagged at the back of his mind, random meaningless memories and words. "Why?"

Ron shrugged. "I just woke up briefly last night, and saw you were up." His cool façade cracked a little. "You haven't been having any-you know-weird dreams lately, have you?"

Harry bit his lip slightly. He knew exactly what Ron meant, and his dreams didn't have anything to do with Voldemort, but still, he wondered if he should just break down and confess it all. He was on the verge of pushing up his sleeves and telling Ron everything, but Hermione chose that exact moment to rush down the stairs.

And as simply as that, Ron's attention was caught and the moment was gone.

*~*~*

Ginny walked slowly down to breakfast. She was a bit earlier than usual, but it didn't matter much as most students didn't even go to breakfast, preferring to sleep in instead.

She took her usual seat. It felt nice having her own place at the table. Even if she was alone, at least she had that. Food was already on the golden plates, and Ginny began eating her eggs slowly.

'Do you trust me?' The blind boy's words echoed in her mind. He'd sounded so desperate for an answer…just like Tom had.

She sat up in bed, adjusting the magic light so its glow fell over the pages. Ginny dipped her quill in the inkpot and pressed it to the paper, feeling her fear and anxiety pour out onto the page in the form of a crisp black line.

'Are you there Tom?' She wrote.

The words spread outward on the page slowly. As always, the process was fascinating, and Ginny was too busy watching the words form to actually read them for a bit.

'Of course Ginny,' the words read. 'Where else would I be?'

Ginny didn't even smile at his joke. 'What's happening to me? I keep waking up and not knowing where I am.'

The words flashed quicker this time. 'Don't worry about it. Just trust me, Ginny.'

Her hand trembled. 'I'm scared,' she wrote in small letters.

'Don't be. Now, do you trust me?'

'Of course I do, Tom. Of course I do.'

Ginny just picked at her eggs more, trying to remember what her mother had said to think of whenever her thoughts drifted back to Tom.

Remember Ginny, she urged herself. He was never really there. He isn't real, and he isn't even here anymore. He and his older self are gone for good.

But still, it was hard for her to believe. Ginny started on her toast as she looked around for Ron, but he wasn't down yet. Maybe she could tell him about the dreams. Instantly, a scenario flashed into her mind. Harry would frown, while Hermione would begin suggesting books, probably some self help crap. Ron would go pale and start overreacting. And then Hermione would start worrying about him, and looking at Harry nervously to see if he was getting upset about hearing all this.

Ginny sighed and started to get up. Maybe she wouldn't tell them anything, after all.

*~*~*

Harry was quiet at breakfast that morning. Granted, it wasn't noticed, as Hermione and Ron were chatting animatedly about classes and other things. He just kept looking down, chewing his toast mechanically and not even noticing anything else.

Finally, he felt a poke on his shoulder, and looked up to see Hedwig with a letter clutched in her talons as she took sips of his pumpkin juice. That was odd; he hadn't even heard the owls come in.He frowned while taking the letter and patting her goodbye.

Harry scanned the letter quickly. "Hey Ron, Hermione," he said. "Hagrid wants us to go down to his cabin this weekend. Sound good?"

"Sure!" Ron and Hermione said at the same time. They laughed at that, before Harry caught sight of his watch.

"Oh, we'd better get going. Class starts in a few minutes. What do we have first again?"

His best friends gave him strange looks, then gave each other the same ones. "Harry," Hermione started gently. "We just read out the timetable a few minutes ago. Weren't you listening?"

Harry felt a blush rise in his cheeks, and forced himself to stammer a response. "Uhh, I guess I must've been spacing out for a bit there. What's first?"

"Herbology, with the Ravenclaws."

Harry nodded, and checked his bag, before sighing. He didn't have his dragon hide gloves or his textbook. "Hold on, I gotta get my stuff. I'll meet you there." They nodded and started to get up, while he sprinted towards the dorm.

*~*~*

Evie sat up groggily. After her dream-could it be considered a nightmare?-she hadn't been able to get back to a real sleep. She forgot how many times she'd gotten up that night for a glass of water, or tried to read to pass the time.

Her stomach grumbled painfully, but after a glance at the clock she realized that breakfast was just ending. And that meant classes were soon too. She cursed under her breath, and scrambled to get out of bed, grabbing her clothes and stumbling into the bathroom.

When she emerged, an owl was just swooping out of the open window. She saw a letter lying on her desk and, slightly confused, headed for it quickly.

"What the-" Evie said as she opened it. She frowned in annoyance. It was from Professor McGonagall-her new Head of House. It was her specialized schedule.

She sighed in disappointment. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she'd hoped that this whole thing about her taking first year classes was a joke, but alas, here was proof. Her first Potions class was on Friday, and her first Herbology lesson tomorrow. Today was Advanced Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall and during lunch, she'd be talking with her Head about which extra class to take, which would be after lunch.

Evie grabbed the new textbooks her aunt had given her and started to leave her room, adjusting her uniform with distaste. It was annoying to have to wear these huge robes, and the garish Gryffindor patch was irritating her also. She sighed again, for the second time in almost as many minutes, and tried to remember where the Transfiguration classroom was.

While she was busy puzzling over that, she passed by the Gryffindor common room. "Now," she started to say. "I should know where it is from here. The next corridor on the left? Or is it the right? Ooh, and I only have fifteen minutes left, I'm going to be late for su-Oof!" Evie cried as she felt something collide into her side. Miraculously, she didn't fall down, but her books weren't as lucky. They tumbled to the floor in a messy heap and she gave a disbelieving noise before bending to gather them up again.

"You know, you could damn well apologize," Evie snapped irritably, before faltering as she dragged her eyes upward and met a startling green gaze, framed by thick glasses just underneath a pale lightning-shaped scar. "Oh."

"Sorry about that, I wasn't looking where I was going," he said. Later, she realized that the odd quality she heard in his voice was gloominess.

"Uh, that's alright," she said weakly. Subconsciously, she looked him over, and her mouth quirked slightly. He was a bit short for the wizarding world's hero, barely two inches taller than her, and his build was small and slightly gawky, the body of a child who'd grown too quickly. His face was really the most remarkable thing, not just because of the scar she glimpsed through a fringe of raven bangs, but also his serious mouth, and bright green eyes.

He returned the last of her books, with a frown on his face. "You're that new girl, right? The American one?" He asked.

Inwardly scowling, she nodded. Already, Evie could tell that the title of American new girl would stick for a while.

Harry looked a bit uncomfortable as he stood. "Well, have fun here."

She smiled fakely. "Thanks." He nodded and turned to leave, before she remembered something. "Wait!" Evie cried. "Where's the Transfiguration classroom?"

He laughed and proceeded to tell her which way.

*~*~*

Harry shook his head slightly to himself as he turned the corner away from the girl. In all his life, he'd barely ever heard a Yank accent, as he wasn't allowed to watch television at the Dursleys, and her voice was fascinating.

The jog to Herbology was quick, and Harry slid into his seat just as his watch told him class was starting. Professor Sprout fixed him with a critical eye but said nothing, instead launching into her traditional Welcome-Back speech, followed by an explanation of what they'd be doing that day, reviewing magic eating plants.

He let his mind wander as his hand mechanically copied down the notes on the board. He wanted to roll up his robe sleeves, to write better, but he could feel eyes on him and decided against it. He didn't want anyone seeing the scars and leaking to the presses that the Boy-Who-Lived was masochistic. Harry shuddered at the mere thought of how brutal that would be.

He focused his attention for a second on squinting at a particularly unreadable word, till Ron nudged him and showed his notes. Harry grinned and copied the word down correctly, and dove back into his thoughts with the air of an exhausted person diving back into a warm bed.

And his thoughts welcomed him back happily, throwing a thick blanket over his body and holding him close.

Harry wondered if he'd have the dream again tonight. Though he knew it was bad, he wished fervently that he'd see the girl again, and after remembering her last words, he added to his prayers that yes, he did think she was real.

I know she is, he thought.

*~*~*

Classes were long for all of them that day. All four were exhausted, bored, and annoyed at both the change of routine and school in general. Evie was even more miserable, Harry was ready to hex the next person who whispered and pointed as he passed, and Draco was sick of the inane chatter surrounding him.

Ginny was the least affected of the four. Sure, she was tired and and slightly homesick, but she had to deal with less. Her few friends drifted once they recognized her silence. She wasn't expected to raise her hand in class, and thus didn't. She did have slight fame (mostly pity) after the casualties of war and her brother's part in it, but it was little and focused mostly on Ron.

She passed through the halls, silent as a ghost, almost as unnoticeable as one, but it didn't really matter much anymore.

…the fragile cocoon she had spun around herself was too warm, too comforting to break with words, and she did not respond…

*~*~*

It was after classes before she finally met with him. Somewhere inside, Evie knew she'd been anticipating it, dreading it even, and now it was here.

Time to talk with her cousin.

"Evelyn," he drawled, his whispered voice sounding just like a soft hiss. "I've been so upset. You haven't come to see me at all."

She shifted uncomfortably and shoved him away from her, not with much ease. He was more than four inches taller than her, and significantly stronger. "Yeah, I know," she mumbled, at a loss for anything else.

They were in some classroom or corridor or something, Draco having yanked her there from the main hallway. Evie couldn't tell exactly where they were as it was dark, and she wasn't paying much attention to her surroundings, trying instead to study her fair-haired cousin.

Draco had changed so much, but so little, since she last saw him a little over a year ago. That was before the big hype about the war, and before Uncle Lucius had died and before she'd gotten expelled and so many other things. The last time she saw him, he'd been a stuck-up bastard, preparing for admittance into the Death Eater ranks. Now he looked taller, skinnier, and more serious.

"We need to talk," he growled, before reaching out and tapping the Gryffindor badge on her robe. "About this." His lip had curled in disgust. "Not to mention your damn hair, and those things in your eyebrows. You look like a bloody Muggle."

Evie knocked his hand away. "I don't have to say anything to you. You aren't my mother," Evie snapped.

Draco's eyes flashed angrily. "In case you don't remember, you are now living in my house. Hell, I own you. I could throw out on the street and no one would give a damn. Malfoy Manor is my house."

"And Hogwarts is a public school," Evie interrupted. She was getting so pissed at his attitude. She cocked her head to the side. "You know what, I don't give a damn about you. You aren't my family, you aren't my friend, you aren't even a classmate! So fuck off, Draco. I'd rather live in a cardboard box than go to your hellhole of a Death Eater nest."

Her breath whooshed out of her chest quickly as his long fingers wrapped around her throat and tightened quickly. "Shut up!" He roared in her face. "Just shut the hell up you stupid bitch! From now on, you're sodding dead to me!" The world in front of her was starting to darken and blur, fading away till all Evie could see was a bright spot of pale blonde hair and dark robes against fair skin.

I really will be dead in a little bit if he doesn't let go, she thought, gasping for breath and desperately trying to claw his hands away. He tightened his hands again, and Evie made a feeble choking noise, before he finally let go and stepped away quickly, gray eyes wide.

She collapsed on the floor, wheezing heavily and coughing. She knew she should be retaliating somehow, but she couldn't seem to gather the energy to even move. Slowly, her vision came back and Evie felt like she could breathe again, and she looked up for her cousin.

He was standing at the doorway, back turned towards her and outlined in light. His hair glowed almost silver, and his skin looked pure white. Dazedly, she wondered if angels ever looked like him. Finally, his voice cut into her thoughts, quiet and pensive.

"I don't want anyone to know you're my cousin," Draco said softly. "It could be bad for both of us." And with that, he was gone in less than the blink of an eye.

Evie stayed in that room for a long time, and even though the bruises faded eventually, she never forgot his last words or the way he'd looked like a fallen angel afterwards.

*~*~*

Man was this melodramatic…but I've been rather angst-inspired this week so here's what you get.

…the fragile cocoon she had spun around herself was too warm, too comforting to break with words, and she did not respond…

-This is from the book, Thousand Pieces of Gold, by Ruthanne Lum McCunn