Chapter 1
He woke up; his whole form was covered in cold droplets of sweat. It was dark still but a faint shimmer of street lamps got into his wide-open balcony door. He looked at the transparent-white veil, which gently swelled with breathe of wind. It was the beginning of autumn but the air was still hot and a little stiff, so like in that dream… The air, coming from the street didn't help either. The young man was shivering, despite the summer-like weather.
These dream… it was the same through-out years already and he had no idea where it came from. No, that was a lie, it was as if it happened in his past-life he didn't know but had distant deja vu of… There was also another one, leaving him with quite the same feeling but it had a completely different scenario. It occurred at random times and it wasn't as if he remembered this episode to happen but there it was… there was a girl, yes… and… No, he didn't want to think about it, it was too horrible.
And the darkness of both dreams, it was always there, the stiff darkness…
The young man sat on the edge of his bed and put his face in his hands. Now there was no light from the street even. The cold sweat was gone by now but he was still shaken somewhat. This terrified atmosphere always lingered after this dream of battle. Oh, yes, the battle. At times he saw different moments of it, today was only the beginning, thanks god. He couldn't bear to see the brutality with which people were killed, even the smallest ones. Their screams and cried would ring in his ears for hours after he'd wake up, dripping with cold sweat and shaking violently. He had no idea why it was like this or what was the whole thing about… but he knew the feeling, the unmistakeable feeling of death to come…
He couldn't take it anymore. He got up quietly and went to the bathroom, clicking the light switch on his way. The young man filled one glass with water from the tap and took a couple of swallows. When would this all stop? He was as tired of this dream as of the other one though they didn't come every night. It happened once in a month maybe, sometimes even more rarely but they nevertheless occurred. He sighed and splashed some water on his face and looked in the mirror.
A handsome reflection stared back at him with eyes the color of late autumn rain clouds. He didn't know how he knew that but he was sure that this wasn't the color they were before, maybe lighter, clearer. And when was before, he couldn't say that… His hair was dark brown and a little longish, the way it was fashionable nowadays. He could have sworn that he had nothing to do with his hair and it came naturally like that but… yet again, he just knew that they weren't brown at the beginning… whenever it was… His face was mostly smooth and youthful, of a man nearing his mid twenties. It seemed the only flaw was in hardly noticeable age lines on his forehead, a clear sign of distress, of hard past… Nevertheless, it didn't actually spoil the handsome face, even when he frowned. People said it gave him a worn out but wise look, which, he guessed, was a good thing. So all in all he could say he liked his face. Even if he didn't, he could do nothing about it, after all it was his own face, the face of Draco Malfoy…