Chapter two: In Dreams She Came
Disclaimer: I am a slave to the Potter universe, sadly, I do not own it. That belongs to Goddess, J. K. Rowling. Nor do I own any lyrics or references used throughout this piece.
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His Hogwarts trunk slammed shut as Draco Malfoy sighed, sitting on top of it with his hands on his knees. His bedroom was eerily dark; the candles in their silver serpent shaped holders on the wall flickered in and out of life. The fireplace across the room didn't seem to blaze with as much grandeur as normal. Behind him, the lush green and black four-poster bed didn't seem as comfortable as it should seem. Overall, every noise Malfoy made appeared to echo throughout the dark stone of the room as if reminding him of his father and the choice that he had finally made.
"Another bloody year at that damned school tomorrow," he mused to himself, sneering at the noise the grandfather clock in the hallway made as it chimed twelve times. He really should have been asleep right now, to get a good start at his new term tomorrow. As Lucius always told Draco, "Sleep counts for first impressions. Impressions are everything."
There he went again, always thinking about Lucius. It was just another bit of proof that he lived his life in the shadows. Stop it, Draco, he told himself; What's done is done. You made your choice. Not him. This last sentence, somehow made him feel more confident; he'd done what he really wanted, regardless of his father's plan for his son's life. At least, he thought he did what he felt was right for once. From that day forth, his life would run the way he wanted. At least he'd hope so.
"What has the bastard ever done for me?" Draco muttered to himself. The answer came flooding back to him in an instant: manipulation, control, cruelty, hate, derision – the list went on. In the corridor, there was a portrait of Lucius in all his majestic brutality. Draco hated this painting with every fibre of his existence; it scorned him whenever he passed, making shrewd comments about anything and everything. The painting even went as far as to criticize him for not completing his mission to kill Dumbledore! He'd gotten so frustrated by those nagging remarks, that he'd even tried to curse the painting. However, it didn't work out too well, as spells wouldn't work on a painting. It was his own personal reminder of the man that haunted him constantly. One of these days he planned to take it off the wall while he was sleeping and burn it.
Sleep. That seemed a sight for sore eyes. He hadn't gotten any in the past few days. He was always kept up, thinking about the letter. It caused him so much trouble, so why had he written it?
His life.
It was true to Draco, that technically it wasn't a huge detail, but standing up to his father and finally making his own choice, was quite an accomplishment. It was his new life, his freedom. And oh how he was waiting for that freedom! But such things were only a dream at the moment, he'd taken the first step, and now he had to get through an entire final year at Hogwarts without being completely shunned (due to what happened in his sixth year) first.
For the second time that night, Draco sighed again, as he changed into suitable sleepwear and collapsed back on his bed. Sleep was like a fantasy at the moment, but he was sure as bloody hell going to try to get some rest this night - especially with a long final year ahead of him. His lavish green silk sheets and bedspread enveloped him in the feathery softness they contained, and soon Draco found he was actually asleep.
Those eyes. Those piercing eyes. The very gaze he'd seen in his sleep for a week at the least. They set his heart on fire. They knew everything, boring into his very mind and soul. He wanted them to be blank, cold and lifeless. But then again, he wanted them to stay. He wanted to see a glimmer of joy in those eyes. Did he want them to stay or go? He couldn't decide. The air was filled with a melody – the girl was singing. He tried to listen to decipher the lyrics.
"Now that I know what I'm without
You can't just leave me.
Breathe into me and make me real
Bring me to life.
Bring me to life.
I've been living a lie
There's nothing inside.
Bring me to life.
Frozen inside without your touch,
Without your love, darling.
Only you are the life among the dead.
All of this sight
I can't believe I couldn't see
Kept in the dark
But you were there in front of me"
The lyrics were eerie, but the voice singing was beautiful. He'd never heard anything quite so like it before. He wanted to speak, to compliment; yet his voice was dry. It was then she noticed him.
In a fleeting instant she was in his reach, a smirk across her delicate face, and in that moment he felt lust, love, hate, anger, hurt, passion, and bliss. He believed it was…happiness. He was caught in the moment, not wanting to let go. Yet she was gone again, like a butterfly, never landing close enough to hold, always fluttering just above the surface. Suddenly she blinked, and those eyes were filled with fear. That gaze that set him on fire was ice. She screamed, pointing. But he couldn't turn around. She yelled to him, mouthing something he couldn't hear. She ran and screamed again, falling to her knees as she watched a cold silver blade sink into the boy's stomach. The last thing he saw, were her eyes; those sad, crying eyes.
Draco sat up with a start in the pitch-blackness of his room. "Not again." He groaned lightly to himself, wiping sweat off his forehead. His stomach hurt, like something had stabbed him. He'd had the dream again. The same damned dream he'd had for Merlin knows how long.
It's the same girl from Diagon Alley, he thought. The ruddy scum she is – now she's in my sleep. Draco sneered at this, did he really need some dumb girl to be in his dreams suddenly?
In particular, it was the song the girl had sung that vexed him. The lyrics… what did she mean by that? That he was a coward? Surely not! That he was weak? Draco refused to believe it. Dreams were just stupid images that meant nothing anyway; it wasn't anything to worry about. His major problems were: getting to school, and escaping torturing glares from the Gryffindors, getting back at Potter, and figuring out a way to stay away from his father and the Dark Lord. It was going to be difficult without having Snape there to favour Draco anymore. Of course, with the Unbreakable Vow, Snape had to have done it. There was no choice. Draco knew that currently, he was hiding out with Lucius and the Dark Lord, basking in the glory that should have been his. Yet now, Voldemort thought of Draco as a weakling, as a nobody – and Draco thought it best not to try and regain that favour. This was exactly why he had declined his father's request that he go back. He didn't want that fame and glory anymore. He didn't want to be manipulated into doing dangerous things at the cost of his life. He liked his life, thank you very much. And he didn't want to be trapped in his father's cage any longer.
"I've been living a lie." He didn't know how, but that chilling line seeped into his line of thought suddenly, and a shiver ran down Draco's spine. A memory of crying in the boy's lavatory flooded his mind. Instantly, he thought of the weakness he had shown, and how his father would have been ashamed. Then he thought of the horror and the terror he had felt. He feared for his life, his family's life. He was reminded of the stress, and how he had felt so hopeless, so confused. This was the Draco only his thoughts knew, the Draco he wanted to hide from the world. But then Potter had to enter the scene, and now he would forever be labelled a wimp. A failure.
Failure wasn't acceptable. He'd be disowned for such a thing (Yet he was sure he was heading that way anyway). He just was never good enough for anyone. To Lucius and the Dark Lord he was too weak. To Narcissa he was too young. To Snape he was too cocky. The comments never ended. Draco groaned to himself as he sat on the edge of his large bed, head in his hands, tearing at his blonde locks. Another slight chill went down his spine from the frigid air hitting his bare chest.
"If I don't get out of here soon I'm going to go bloody insane," Draco groaned to himself. He'd hidden out with Snape for a while, but high tailed it back home when he heard his father had escaped. He didn't want Lucius to start bugging him yet again.
More memories flooded back to him and he shook his head, vision a bit blurry. With a yawn, he collapsed back on his bed. Hopefully into a dreamless sleep.
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"Foolish girl!" growled a voice, coming from a tall imposing man with brown hair, and a rugged look about him. The girl who had fallen to her knees before the two adults cowered, bowing her head with her dark brown hair spilling to the stone floor. The room was a large hall it seemed, with a large elaborate chandelier hanging from the ceiling, providing the only light in the room. Shadows reverberated off the walls, flickering in almost a spectral way. The only noises in the room that could be heard were the voices of these three people and the occasional tapping of the third man's cane on the floor. Although the hall was lavishly decorated there was nothing in the room that suggested happiness. The statues and tapestries on the walls portrayed only bloodshed and death.
"S-sorry f-f-ather…" the girl answered him in a quiet, timid voice that was barely heard. The blonde man scoffed at her.
"You must remember to put her in her place Avery… I doubt this little wench knows the complications of the task at hand," he drawled, twirling a black cane around in his hands.
"Yes Lucius, you are quite right," the man called Avery responded, nodding his head slightly.
Lucius these days was much thinner, having escaped from Azkaban with the others and was looking a bit worse for the wear. Yet he could still make himself so imposing and malicious looking that the teenage girl in from of him whimpered, trying to back up a few steps on her knees. Even with his more ragged looking appearance, she was deathly afraid.
"Look at me girl," he snarled, hitting her on the side of the head with his cane. With a yelp she looked up, her dark eyes wide with fear. "You realize, that you are to complete the task you have been given or die," he snarled, face contorted in pure loathing of the girl in front of him. She nodded obediently, although a larger spark of terror flashed in her eyes.
"Deirdre, go then. And make haste to get to that rubbish pile of a school, the train leaves tomorrow at 11am exactly" The man called Avery growled, and the girl, Deirdre, struggled to her feet and she ran, tripping on her way out, so as to cause the two gentlemen to laugh mockingly.
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(a/n: I'd like to credit the amazing band Evanescence for the lyrics used in this chapter. The song is titled "Bring Me to Life". But I bet you knew that. )