Chapter Four
The first thing he noticed was the smell. It was like mold and hate and death all rolled into one. Slowly, he opened his eyes and found himself at home. But it wasn't his home. Not anymore. Evil had taken up residence and killed all his good memories. He looked around the room at the frightened people. Fear is a funny thing, it affects everyone differently. Some get angry. Some go crazy. Some try to be smart about it and look out for themselves. Some simply shut down and stop thinking. As if he'd done it before, he made his way through the room full of death eaters to a corner, only to find it was already occupied... by himself.
Right about now, Draco realized he was dreaming. He'd had this one before, many times. In the early days, his subconscious mind would try to change the outcome. He would scream and cry, beg and kill, but nothing stopped it. He'd had this nightmare so many times, he simply succumbed and watched it unfold. He always watched himself in this dream, rather than watching from behind his own eyes. What he saw disgusted him: a sniveling coward. After the war, his mother had taken him to St Mungoes to see a Divinator. She had told him it wasn't his fault. That he didn't have a choice. They would have killed him if he hadn't done the things he did, and so he should forgive himself. It took a long time for him to recognize his own fault and forgive himself. But now the nightmare was back... and he knew why.
It was always her. As a junior Death Eater, Draco had tortured several people, run people out of their homes, and even killed a couple aurors in a battle. But it wasn't these crimes that haunted him. It wasn't the things he had done that plagued his nightmares. It was the things he HADN'T done.
"Draco! Darling, come look what Auntie Bella found! It's a nice, juicy mudblood. Lets make her squeal shall we?"
Draco turned slowly to see Hermione being held hostage by his Aunt. She looked at his dream self with wide eyes as she tried to wrestle herself out of Bellatrix's strong grasp.
"Oh, no. That's alright Aunt Bella. I think I'm going to head up to bed." Draco cringed at the words as his dream self sputtered them out, not able to look Granger in the eye.
"What? And miss all the fun? You are my sister's son aren't you? You should be more like your father. He would never turn down a mudblood."
"No really, that's all right."
"Well at least stay and watch. It won't take but a minute." Bellatrix turned to her captive with an evil grin. "Or maybe it will. I like to stretch it out if I can. Most fizzle out after a few minutes, but this one looks like she's got some fight in her." She suddenly leaned in and licked Granger's face from chin to hairline.
"You filthy hag! Get off me!" Hermione spat right in her face.
"Ugh!" Bellatrix threw her to the floor. "You disgusting mudblood! I'll teach you to spread your filth like that!"
"Ahh!" Granger's screams filled the entire house. Draco watched, unable to breath as she writhed on the floor. His dream self was no better, uselessly trying to disappear into a tapestry. "Malfoy! Help me! AHHH! Oh Merlin! Malfoy!"
"I can't!" his dream self whispered into the wall as he turned himself away from the struggling girl. "I can't!"
Then suddenly it wasn't Granger on the floor, it was him. Now he looked up through his own eyes and he saw something his nightmare had never shown him before. It wasn't Bellatrix doing the torturing. It was himself. "No wait! Stop! AHHH!"
Draco jolted awake, sweating profusely and breathing like he really had just endured the Cruciatus curse. He looked around his spartanly bare flat, wondering if he had called out in his sleep. Not that anyone would have heard. His mother lived almost exculsively in Cannes now, and he was alone. With a sigh, he ran his hand through his stringy hair and swung his legs out of bed, knowing he would never go back to sleep now. "Granger," he muttered as he reached for his trainers. Of course it was seeing her today that had drudged up the old nightmare. In record time, he was dressed, out the door, and running down the dimly lit street. "Lets see if 10 kilometers can push you out of my head."