Chapter Five
"Dudley! Dudley, where are you? Malfoy, where's my cousin?" Draco awoke to Harry bursting into his room, a rather concerned look on his face.
"Harry, relax, I'm here," Dudley said, getting up from the sofa in the corner of the room. Both Draco and Harry turned to look at him in surprise. Frantically, Draco tried to remember why on earth Dudley had slept on the sofa in his room. A vague recollection came back to him. He'd been having some sort of nightmare. He remembered Dudley waking him up and – a faint flush tinged his cheeks at this point – he was fairly sure he remembered asking Dudley to stay with him.
"Dudley?" Harry said incredulously, "What are you doing in here?" It suddenly occurred to Draco just how bad this looked: the two of them spending the night in the same room together while the house was empty.
"I –" Dudley began, then paused, clearly unsure whether Draco wanted him to share what had happened with Harry or not. Draco sighed. Better he admit to having nightmares like some silly kid than have Harry jump to conclusions.
"I was having a nightmare," he explained, "Dudley came and woke me up and then … decided to stay and make sure I was alright." If anything, Harry looked more confused than before.
"That was … kind of Dudley," he said doubtfully, "I've had some pretty awful experiences with nightmares myself. It's good to have someone there to wake you up. Someone who … won't make fun of you."
Dudley gasped as if realising something, then went very red.
"Cedric," he said quietly, "Cedric was murdered, wasn't he?" Harry nodded.
"I'm so sorry," Dudley said, "I should have … I can't believe I … I'm so, so sorry." Draco had never seen Dudley look so flustered. Draco looked from Dudley to Harry and then back again. They both looked very uncomfortable.
"It's fine," Harry said eventually, "You couldn't have known." Bemused, Draco watched as Dudley opened his mouth as if to disagree, then changed his mind.
"I'm sorry," he said again. There was a very long, very awkward silence.
"So how come you were looking for me?" Dudley asked finally.
"Oh. Well I was just on my way to go shopping with some friends," Harry explained, "And I figured I'd come in here first and see if you want anything while I'm there. But then obviously you weren't in your room so I got kind of worried."
"No, I can't think of anything," Dudley said, "Thanks for asking though."
"No problem. Draco, do you want me to get you some Dreamless Sleep Potion? Obviously you can't use it every night – it can be dangerous to become too dependent on it – but it works wonders if you want to get a peaceful night of sleep every so often. I know how awful nightmares can be if they occur regularly."
Draco was rather taken aback by Harry's offer. The genuine concern and sympathy in his old enemy's tone was obvious, and it made him feel very ashamed suddenly. Ashamed of how he'd behaved in the past. And ashamed of the way he'd believed Harry was only letting him come here in order that he could get some sort of revenge.
"That would be … brilliant," he said gratefully, "Thank you. I can give you the key to my vault if you like, so that you can get the money to pay for it."
Harry gave him a very strange look.
"Don't be stupid," he said, "I'll pay for it. It's not exactly expensive, and I've got plenty of money."
Draco flushed again and lowered his eyes. He didn't want Harry to pay for it. He didn't want to be even more in this man's debt. Then again, he already owed him his life. How much more in debt could you be?
After checking again that Dudley definitely didn't need anything, Harry left. Dudley and Draco sat in silence, but it was less awkward this time. They were both lost in their own thoughts. Dudley appeared to still be thinking about whatever it was he and Harry had been referring to – something to do with Cedric Diggory, Draco assumed. Draco himself was remembering last night. The details were coming back to him more clearly now. He remembered the nightmare very vividly; it had been about the Dark Lord, of course. They always were. He supposed he must have yelled and attracted Dudley's attention, because he could remember Dudley leaning over him, gently bringing him back into reality and telling him that nobody was going to hurt him. But he'd still been half dreaming, not quite aware of what was real and what wasn't, and had irrationally believed the Dark Lord was going to come back, and that if Dudley was there he wouldn't.
Perhaps it hadn't been so irrational after all, however. After all, Dudley had stayed and the nightmare hadn't come back. He'd slept more peacefully than he had in months. Perhaps it was simply the presence of someone else in the room. Perhaps it was the knowledge that there was someone in the world who actually gave a damn about him. Whatever it was, it had worked.
Of course, he couldn't exactly ask Dudley to come and sleep in his room from now on. Harry would definitely jump to the wrong conclusions if he did that. Dudley probably would too, for that matter.
"Thanks for coming last night," Draco said, "I … I appreciate it."
"No problem," Dudley smiled, "I used to do it all the time for people when we were staying at the safe house. I had to sit by one little girl's bed every night for three weeks at one point. She'd seen her parents tortured into insanity and then murdered, but had been rescued by the Order of the Phoenix. We didn't have the luxury of Dreamless Sleep Potion, so I just had to sit and hold her hand and wake her up every time she began to scream. In the end I had my bed moved into her room so that I could nap whenever I got the chance. It was a difficult three weeks for all of us. Poor girl. I'm not sure she'll ever quite recover. What child could after something like that?"
Draco felt like he was going to throw up. He knew which girl Dudley was talking about. He'd been there when she and her parents were dragged in. Her father had been a muggle, but her mother was from a rich, pureblood family. They hadn't been any particular threat to the Death Eaters. They weren't Order members, or any kind of fighters. They were simply being punished for their inappropriate match. Draco had taken his turn at torturing them. It had been a feeble Cruciatus Curse, but it had made them scream nonetheless. He could still see the little girl's face in his mind as she watched her parents writhe on the ground at Draco's feet.
Suddenly, Draco really didn't want to continue with this conversation. What right did he have to be woken from his nightmares, after he'd been responsible for causing them for so many others? What right did he have to take Dreamless Sleep Potion? He deserved the nightmares.
Abruptly, he stood up.
"Are you planning to stay here all day?" he asked shortly, "Because last time I checked this was my bedroom." He'd put on his best drawl. He knew he was being ungrateful, but he had to make Dudley leave. Right now he was in danger of coming to see him as an actual friend, and that mustn't happen. It would hurt too much then when Dudley found out the truth about him and wouldn't have anything to do with him anymore.
Dudley, however, didn't seem hurt or annoyed by Draco's tone. He eyed Draco thoughtfully for a few moments, then turned to leave the room.
"I'm making soup for lunch," he said as he left, "Any preferences?"
Draco sighed. Couldn't Dudley take a hint?
"I don't want any of your soup," he said coldly, "I'll have the house elf bring me something."
"Alright," Dudley said easily, not seeming perturbed in the least. Draco frowned as he watched him leave. Perhaps he was losing his touch, if he couldn't even adequately annoy someone anymore.
He spent the rest of the day shut up in his room, dreading that night. It was ridiculous, because he had nightmares every night. But after one night of more peaceful sleep, it suddenly seemed unbearable to go back to the nightmares.
A bottle of Dreamless Sleep Potion was sent up with his evening meal. Harry had kept his word. Draco set it on the table by his bed. It was tempting to use it, very tempting. To guarantee himself at least one night of peaceful sleep, free from the terror and pain he endured every time he fell asleep. But Harry had warned him about how it could become addictive. For most people that would probably take at least a week or so of using it constantly, but Draco wasn't sure it would take as long with him. A few hours of peaceful sleep when Dudley was in the room and already he was craving that feeling again. He could barely remember what it had been like to be able to take it for granted that he would always get a full night's sleep.
But one dose of Dreamless Sleep Potion couldn't hurt, could it? Still debating the issue in his head, he got ready for bed. Eventually, however, the decision was taken out of his hands as, before he could come to any sort of conclusion, exhaustion got the better of him, and he fell asleep.
Only to fall straight into his own personal hell.
A little girl was staring at him. The little girl whose parents he'd helped torture.
"Help me!" she cried plaintively. He reached out towards her, but couldn't seem to make his feet move. She stared at him accusingly, tears running down her face. Then behind him, another voice called out:
"Kill her, Draco!" It was his father. He tried to walk towards her, to kill or help her he wasn't sure, but his feet still wouldn't move. Behind him, his father's yells grew angrier, and in front of him the little girl's sobs grew more desperate.
"I can't move!" he tried to tell them both, "I can't …"
The girl turned and walked away. He watched her retreating back, and tried to call out to her. To come back, maybe. To save him. But his voice didn't work. He turned to face his father.
"You've failed me one too many times, Draco," his father snarled, pointing his wand at him, "Crucio!" He laughed as Draco fell to the ground, screaming.
"Please, Father! I'm sorry!" But his father was still laughing, and then it wasn't his father on the other end of the wand anymore, but Lord Voldemort.
"You thought you could escape then, boy?" Voldemort hissed, "But you'll never get away from me. Never!" And the Mark on his arm was searing with pain. It seemed to be growing and growing, until it engulfed him completely.
"You're mine, Draco!" Voldemort was saying, "Mine! The Mark proves it! You can never get away from me!"
"No, please, I'm so sorry," Draco gasped, "Father! Mother! Somebody, help me! Please! I'm sorry!"
"Draco! Wake up!" A familiar voice was breaking through the nightmare, calling him back to reality. Draco opened his eyes, then promptly shut them again. He couldn't believe this! It wasn't Dudley this time, but Harry. How much more embarrassing could this get?
"Draco, are you alright?" Harry asked. Reluctantly, Draco opened his eyes again.
"No, Potter, I'm not alright," he snapped. Harry glanced at the Dreamless Sleep Potion, still full, that sat by the bed.
"Why didn't you take the potion?" he asked, "It helps. I know from experience. Trust me."
For a moment, Draco was tempted to tell Harry all about the nightmares, and how he was scared that once he started taking the potion he wouldn't be able to stop. It would have helped to talk about it, and to receive advice from someone who had experienced what he was going through.
But Harry hadn't really experienced what he was going through. He was Harry Potter, the saviour of the Wizarding World. Perhaps he'd experienced nightmares, but they were for completely different reasons. He could never understand the guilt Draco was carrying around with him.
"None of your business, Potter," he said, "I'll take whatever potions I like. I don't need your stupid Dreamless Sleep Potion." Harry's face hardened.
"Fine," he said, "But I'm putting a Silencing Charm on your room. If you're going to insist on having these nightmares, there's no need for you to wake the rest of us up with your screaming."
He strode out of the room, muttering the spell on his way out. Draco looked at the potion bottle. One sip and he could have a few hours of soothing nothingness. But he couldn't. Not now. It was a matter of pride. He'd told Harry he wouldn't take it. He couldn't change his mind now. He'd lost everything else; the least he could do was try to retain a little of his pride.
Exhausted, he lay down on the bed again. Turning around to face the other way, he resolutely ignored the bottle of potion. Perhaps this time he would manage to sleep without dreams naturally. That thought almost made him laugh. He'd never thought of himself as someone to indulge in false optimism.
With a sigh, he closed his eyes, and slipped back into a nightmare.