Chapter 6
Dream to Nightmare
It was a quarter to eight. Harry sat around the dinner table with the Dursleys, watching everybody tensely. It would have been completely silent was the TV not on. Aunt Petunia's lips were pursed so tightly that they had become a white blotch above her chin. Uncle Vernon's face was purple. Dudley ate quietly and slowly, which was something new. Harry hardly ate at all.
He was thinking about the previous night, which seemed more like a hazy nightmare than anything.
He had been washing the dishes, humming Hogwarts' school anthem to himself. Uncle Vernon had been in the lounge, downing shots of brandy. His eyes were red and he looked positively ruddy. He was muttering to himself, obviously about Petunia, but for some reason once or twice Snape's name came up as well. Harry had chosen that he wanted to forget this.
Aunt Petunia had walked into the lounge to get to the kitchen when Uncle Vernon pounded his fist on the table, causing one of the shot glasses to shatter on the floor. Aunt Petunia whipped around and stared at him wildly.
"What is wrong with you?" she said unhappily. "Drunk again. It's not even nine o' clock."
There was the screeching of the chair on the hardwood, then a muffled cry, and Uncle Vernon was holding Aunt Petunia against the wall, screaming in her face. Harry looked over, his eyes narrowed. He snatched a kitchen knife out of the dish drainer and rushed into the lounge.
"Let go of her." He said. His voice was dangerously low. Uncle Vernon looked slowly over at him as if he posed no threat.
"You wouldn't cut me!" Vernon spat boisterously. Harry glared at him.
"What makes you think I wouldn't? There's no one out here to help you."
Uncle Vernon turned back to Petunia, and began to squeeze her. She cried out in pain and before Harry could understand what he was doing he had barely slit he top layer of skin on the back of Uncle Vernon's neck. Drops of blood began to roll down into his shirt.
He dropped the poor woman and grabbed at the back of his neck, flailing. Harry ran to him and stabilized him. He looked into his dangerously blood shot eyes, imagining that his blood alcohol level was at least .20.
Uncle Vernon made a break for the door and got out just in time. Harry winced at the retched sounds. They didn't seem to stop for quite some time.
When he was done, he wiped his mouth and went into the bedroom to (Harry supposed) get ready for bed. As Aunt Petunia was still upset, Harry went to check on Uncle Vernon. He crept down the hall and put his ear to the door.
Harry's eyes widened at a sound he'd never heard the man make before; the sound of sobs. He was crying.
Next, Harry angrily kicked open the door of Dudley's bedroom, leaving a shoe-mark on it. Dudley was playing his Gameboy or whatever he called it, lying comfortably in bed.
"What the hell – Potter – "
"You bastard! Your mum almost got beat up by your fucking dad and you're sitting here playing your damn games!" Harry roared. Dudley's face contorted with outrage.
"I didn't hear anything! What gives you the right –"
"Don't bullshit me, Dudley! He threw her up against the bloody wall!" Harry yelled. He was breathing rather heavily, his entire body was shaking, and he could feel his pulse alarmingly well.
Dudley couldn't find any way to reply to that. Harry checked his watch and made an effort to catch his breath.
"It's seven, I'm going for a walk. If your dad gets out of hand again…" He trailed. "You had better do something." He left after making Dudley promised. When he got into the kitchen Aunt Petunia was making tea, looking awake and rather spacey.
"I'm going for a walk, Aunt Petunia. Be back later."
"Alright." She replied listlessly. She barely even blinked.
"And I'm taking all the liquor in the house with me."
That time she blinked. "Fine."
"Er…bye then."
Harry unlocked the liquor cabinet with the key sitting on the table. He removed everything, just as he had promised. All that remained was a bottle of red wine, some whiskey, vodka, and Bailey's. Vernon had downed all the brandy, but that didn't matter. Harry was just planning on getting rid of all the stuff anyways.
As he went outside the smell of vomit nearly blew him backwards. Grimacing, he walked as fast as he could over to Draco's, where he and the girls were waiting outside.
"Oh good, you brought poison." Draco said sarcastically.
"Actually I was going to –"
"I love Bailey's." Lauren said, smiling. "It's my favorite. Yours too?" She was obviously flirting. Harry decided it would be okay to play along.
"Er…yeah." He smiled weakly. She grinned and ran her hand down his arm. He looked at it uncomfortably.
"Great." She whispered seductively.
"Give me the vodka and the wine." Lauren said. Harry handed her the drinks. "We can drink it when we get to the other side of the lake."
"That's not what –"
"Wicked." Pansy said, her hand on Draco's crotch. Draco looked rather nauseated, and Harry turned away.
With that they started to walk. It was a lovely cool night, even if the moon wasn't as full as before. A slight breeze was blowing the dead leaves off the pomegranate trees, and it looked more like autumn than summer. It seemed so full of mystery.
They made small talk as they walked, and Harry found that he really wasn't interested in Lauren at all. She was beautiful, but he felt no attraction to her. In fact, he hadn't really been attracted to any girl after Cho. It was strange, but he figured it was a phase and it would be over soon enough. Something with hormones. Along those lines.
The girls were flirty, but the guys were anything but indulgent towards their behavior. Pansy and Lauren didn't seem to notice this. They were sluts and nothing could put them off that. It really pissed Harry off, but he was polite and said nothing. A couple of times he pushed her away, like he noticed Draco doing with Pansy, but she just came right back so soon he stopped trying.
They got to the other side of the lake in about ten minutes. There they set up a quilt that one of the girls had brought, two lanterns, a couple of pillows and the drinks. The breeze kicked up all of a sudden, the settled down, the kicked up again. Both the girls were drinking, but Draco and Harry looked at each other and decided against it. After all the bruises and threats and blood and tears, they knew what those girls didn't.
The night grew late and Harry laid down. Draco was adjacent to him and decided to do the same. The girls were dancing and shouting and laughing down by the lake, but at least they weren't vomiting, and Harry and Draco decided to leave them alone. They just hoped Pansy and Lauren wouldn't pass out and fall into the water.
Harry fell asleep quickly and Draco did as well. They both had long, peaceful slumbers.
When Harry woke up, he was in someone's arms. Remembering the dream that he had had (a very kinky, satisfying dream), he found that he still wanted to pretend. His eyes were still closed, and he was too tired to really realize what he was doing. He ran his hands down his lover's face, found their lips, and kissed them softly. He was both surprised and happy to find that his lover was kissing him back. He opened his eyes.
He let out one of the loudest screamed he'd ever emitted.
He had slept next to and kissed Draco Malfoy.
When Draco opened his eyes, he also screamed. "WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT ABOUT!"
"I DON'T KNOW, I DON'T KNOW! I THOUGHT YOU WERE SOMEBODY ELSE!" Harry screamed, not really in anger, but in pure alarm.
"WELL WHY DON'T YOU CHECK NEXT TIME BEFORE YOU KISS SOMEONE?" Draco bellowed, his face bright. Harry imagined his looked the same.
"I WILL, THANKS!"
"What's going on?" came the flat voice of one of girls. It was Pansy. Her hangover was only too apparent.
"Nothing." Harry said, breathing deeply.
"Then…what's that…?" She pointed, gesturing to the front of Harry's pants. Then she promptly vomited all over the quilt. Draco, disgusted, jumped up.
Harry looked down. If hadn't been blushing before, he certainly was now. He knew it had been a good dream, but he didn't know it had been that good. He immediately stripped off his pants and hurled them into a nearby shrub. He stood shyly in his boxers, rubbing his elbows.
"Wooooo…" Lauren muttered limply. She was clutching her head. "Hot stuff…"
"I think I'll be going now. Bye." Harry said quickly. He found the urge to run as he walked away from the site. He clenched his teeth when he heard Draco's footsteps echoing his.
"Listen, about – "
"I don't want to talk about it." Harry seethed. He noticed that Draco was also only clothed in his boxers. "What happened to your pants?"
"Nothing!" Draco snapped, but by his tone Harry could tell that the same thing had occurred with Draco. That notion sent chills up his spine.
"Really? You just decided to go with out them."
"No, I….just why the hell do you care anyways?"
"Curiosity isn't a sin."
"It isn't something that necessarily needs to be voiced, either."
Harry stopped and stared at him. "What happened last night, Draco? All I remember was having this really good dream. I was by the lake, and my vision was all blurry, and then someone came and…" he trailed off uncomfortably, and decided to finish the sentence by gesturing to his missing pants. "That about covers it."
Draco went pale and stared at him. "What? What is it?"
"Harry…I had the same dream."
Now the color from Harry's face drained. "So we…"
"Yes. But only with our hands."
"Oh god…still…that's…"
"Disgusting?"
"Exactly."
"But the thing that worries me the most is that we weren't even drunk."
Harry swallowed with disgust. "I know. It must have been sleepwalking or something, because I really thought I was dreaming."
"Me too."
"This is horribly –"
"Awkward? Yes, and I'm going now." Draco set off at a fast walk, more near a jog. Harry waited for about a minute then went back to the condo.
