Chapter 1

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It always started the same way.

He was moving slowly, his steps deliberate and light, his movement slow. It felt as if he was walking in water, the invisible current resisting every twitch of his muscles as he moved forward. The darkness engulfed him, only the glow of speckled stars allowed him to see the barren land in front of him. Vaguely he thought they must be stars; even though they were unlike any stars he had ever seen before. He continued his slow journey, unaware of where he was going or why. All he knew was, he was where he was supposed to be and doing exactly what he should be. It took him a while before he realized that he was in the middle of a barren desert. The air was scorching hot and the ground had a number of cracks running through the hardened earth. But every time he took a step, the ground dipped beneath his feet like sand. He continued his journey curiously as the desert expanded before him with every step he took.

At first there was nothing but an expanding desert with darkness surrounding him. But then a strong gust of wind hit him suddenly, stopping him in his tracks and ruffling the expensive cloak his mother gave him for his sixteenth birthday. Looking down, he noticed that the robes were no longer black, but of a shade of grey. Pansy once mentioned that he should wear grey robes to bring out the colour of his eyes. He had never really taken her seriously, which made him wonder exactly why he had now.

When he looked back up, he noticed that the landscape looked familiar. It was as if he had previously been there before; maybe when he was a child, maybe in a dream. A jagged rock stood before him that looked eerily like a preface of a rough mountain. It stood tall, magnificently large and more than six feet above him. But beyond the hardened sand there was nothing; only darkness. His eyes wandered over its smooth surface before they landed on the tip in fascination. Somehow, he knew what it was and what it was about to do. He found himself just waiting for it.

A glimmer of light broke him out of his reverie.

Looking down at the base of the mountain, he saw the tiniest movement beneath the sand. A grain fell forward, then another, and another, until a tiny silver snake slithered free. The reptile had steel scales that shone brightly under light that seemed to have no source. The snake grew bigger before his eyes, its' scales overlapping with a metallic clink that sounded familiar. It was when the snake slithered towards him and raised its' head in an unmistakable nod, did he recognize the silver cobra with the emerald eyes. He knew he wasn't in danger. He could trust this creature. The snake hissed, its silver tongue almost reaching him. It was telling him something; something he needed to know. But before it could come any closer, the ground started to rumble under his feet. The vibrations that started small grew and grew, until the very sand beneath his feet shook violently.

The sound of falling sand filled his ears before he felt the sensation of sinking. He immediately tried to fight the hold the sand had on him, but it was too difficult. It kept pulling him down. His feet were buried under the heavy grains, and his ankles felt like they were being pulled down by an invisible force. The snake slithered forward, as if to help in some way, but the closer it got to him, the more the mountain started trembling. A crack appeared at the top of the mountain before the tip cracked off from the force and fell forward, rolling down the preface of the jagged mountain. With every inch it fell, it got bigger, and bigger. He screamed in panic at the coming boulder but no sound was emitting from his throat. He sank deeper, his arms flailing uselessly beside him. He grabbed desperately for the grains of sand, as the one rock rolled down the mountain with excessive speed. It was coming towards him and he was trapped with no way of calling for help. The last thing he saw was the rock landing with a giant thud on the snake, killing it instantly and cracking the emerald eye, before his head was submerged by the sand.

Draco awoke with a jump, sweat on his brow and his heart beating blindly in panic. It took several forceful breaths for his quick, shallow breathing to slow down to some semblance of normalcy. His eyes scanned the darkened cell he inhabited almost suspiciously. It was as if he expected the very foundation he lied on to shake furiously and bury him alive, just like in his dream.

Unlike most of his family, he never believed in omens or superstitions. He spent his life trying to disprove every single Malfoy 'curse' that was out there. Breathing deeply, he ran a trembling hand through his blond hair, and rubbed the back of his neck in an effort to calm his still beating heart. He was no stranger to bad dreams or even nightmares, having lived under the same roof with the very man who threatened the lives of his family. But these dreams were different. One, he could have ignored. Two or three, he could have called it as a passing faze. But, five? And this had been the worst. He hardly woke up remembering the details of the dreams, just the inherent fear he felt while he was experiencing it. But recently, they had become more insistent. And as much as he hated to admit it, it worried him. Was he finally going mad? Did all the other prisoners who went mental while locked up in this place undergo the same dreadful nightmares he seemed to be experiencing?

Sighing, he laid back down on the uncomfortable mattress that stood a foot off the ground on an uncomfortable cot. At first, he had preferred the cool floor to this poor excuse for a bed. But now, his body had finally gotten used to the hard lumps that protruded harshly against his spine and he found himself able to sleep easily. Nevertheless, he kept his eyes wide open and trained his gaze onto that one lone window where a sliver of silver moonlight came through. He knew that whatever happens, he was not going to give in to sleep, give in to these disturbing dreams.

Draco sat silently as he waited for his usual visitor. Just like every other second Friday of the month, he was shoved roughly into a small room that was big enough to hold a small wooden table with a wooden chair on either side. All three items spelled to the floor and as a result, immovable. He welcomed these visits. The light always seemed unusually bright compared to the dark cell he inhabited, the white walls hurt his eyes with its emptiness, and even the chairs seemed unfit for human use. But still, he preferred the one hour away from the darkened hell hole and looked forward to his only contact with another human being.

He stood up when the door opened and his visitor entered hurriedly, accompanied by an Auror as per regulation.

"Draco," his mother breathed out in relief before she rushed to his side and threw her arms around him in a familiar embrace. He fell into her, unable to raise his own arms to hug her due to the shackles that were around his wrists.

She immediately took a step back to inspect him, her hands travelling down his arms and chest before she grasped his face gently and scrutinized his features. "They didn't hurt you again, did they?"

He shook his head, amused, despite the topic of conversation. "No. Not since that one time." He quickly glanced at the Auror who stood guarding this meeting. "There are new residents now, better…distractions."

His mother smiled sadly, her eyes sparking with relief. "Good," she mumbled softly as she ran her hands lightly through his grimy hair. "Good."

Draco felt the urge to lean into her embrace as he always did when he was a child; instead he took a step back and faced the Auror who still stood intimidatingly before the only exit from the room.

Following his gaze, Narcissa folded her hands before her and faced the guard primly. "May I have a moment alone with my son, please?"

Besides raising a mocking eyebrow at her, the man did not move an inch.

"It's fine, Mother," Draco said soothingly before he took his usual seat. "I'm sure he's not paying any attention to us." He glared at the Auror, who didn't waste time glaring back.

Narcissa smiled lightly as she took the seat opposite him. "I see you are getting your sense of humour back."

"I don't think I ever had one," Draco mumbled dryly.

She smiled sadly at him before she looked at him in worry. "How are you? Are you eating?"

He fought the urge to roll his eyes. Some things never change, no matter the circumstances. "As much as they give me," he mumbled vaguely. He decided long ago that it was better to pretend he got edible food than telling his mother the truth and watch her start a rampage against the Ministry. She had good intentions, but she lacked the prowess of receiving desired results.

"You look thin. I don't think you're eating enough. Maybe I could ask the guard if-"

"Mother!" Draco interrupted a tad bit harshly. "I assure you, I get fed very well." He couldn't resist throwing a passing glace onto their uninvited guest and noticed the tiny smirk the Auror made no effort to hide. The behaviour of these imbeciles boiled his blood, but he forced himself to stay calm and focus his attention on something more important: making sure his mother didn't see exactly what he was going through.

She smiled half-heartedly, and he felt the guilt at snapping at her rise within him. "I just worry sometimes. You and your father are here, and I am..." she trailed off, her eyes brimming with tears.

He had known her never to cry. Throughout the sixteen years he lived with his family, his mother had never shed a tear, at least never in front of him. He couldn't help but marvel at the change they have all undergone within the span of nearly three years. "How is Aunt Andromeda?" he asked quickly, hoping the question to be a sufficient distraction. After the great battle, his mother's estranged sister offered up a helping hand which his mother reluctantly accepted. Narcissa still didn't approve of her sister's choice of life and husband, and she still haven't agreed to stay in the same room with her nephew, but she did meet Andromeda on a regular basis and they were slowly but surely building their relationship from the rubble that it once was. After all, his mother had always told him that blood was the most important thing. It made sense that she would seek out the only family she had when her own was taken away from her.

"She asks about you and Lucius all the time," Narcissa said smiling genuinely. "She's just as worried. She's even..." His mother hesitated for a moment, her gaze meeting his cautiously.

"She's what?" he asked her curiously.

"She's even helping me get through this," Narcissa said quickly, almost as is if she was substituting her intended words. It didn't take the years of knowledge he had on her to know she was lying through that one sentence. "It hasn't been easy, Draco. Every time I step foot out of the Manor, I get looks. Glares. Most of our acquaintances that we used to be socially active with are now either abroad or in hiding. I truly have no one. Why, just last week I wanted to go have lunch just to cheer myself up and Pennington's refused to serve me. Can you imagine that? Your father and I used to go there every year for our anniversary. They have absolutely no loyalty."

"Mother," Draco interrupted carefully. "Not that I don't find the topic of restaurants fascinating, but what about the hearing?"

His mother stared at him in surprise. "What hearing?"

"The hearing you spoke about last month," Draco said slowly through gritted teeth. "And the month before that. And the month before that." He was truly losing his patience.

Narcissa continued to stare at him, almost unseeingly. It was then that he realized that she had avoided the topic of his one possible hope on purpose.

"What is it?" he asked gently. "Did you find out if it is possible to transfer me?"

His mother smiled sadly. "I'm sorry, Draco."

His heart plummeted. This was his only hope; and now he didn't even have that. "What happened?"

Shaking her head, Narcissa rubbed at her eyes with delicate fingers, probably to stop the tears from cascading down her cheeks. "Do you remember I told you about your Father's cousin?" She waited for his nod of confirmation before she continued. "Cyrus was never one of your father's favourite people, but he could always be counted on to help family. He was working on transferring you to the French Ministry for Magic so that you could be under his charge. He was pushing to have a hearing to decide on your lineage. He thought he found a way to get you into French custody. That way, he could ensure your freedom. But..."

"But what?" he asked in confusion. His mother was obviously not telling him something that probably could or even already has changed his fate.

"Do you know what's been happening lately?"

Draco eyed her in confusion, surprised by the sudden change of topic. "What has been happening lately?"

"The hurricanes, floods, typhoons..." She looked at him expectantly.

Draco simply shook his head. "What hurricanes?"

His mother leaned forward earnestly. "Draco, has no one told you? There have been countless disasters all over the world."

"Alright, there are disasters," he shrugged. "What I don't get is what this has to do with the hearing."

Narcissa stayed silent for a moment as if trying to contemplate the best way to tell him bad news. "Last week, France experienced rain for six days and nights. There were floods Draco; horrible floods all over the north of France. Normandy, specifically. And your uncle Cyrus was unfortunately one of the casualties."

Draco stared at her disbelievingly for a moment before the gravity of what she had just told him hit. "You mean," he hissed slowly, "the only person who could have released me from this doomed death-hole is dead?"

His mother instantly reached for him with an intention of comforting him. "Draco."

But he jumped up from his seat and moved away from her. He barely noticed the Auror immediately take a step towards him in anticipation. "I'm stuck here?" he snapped in disbelief before he turned to face his mother in accusation. "You told me you had a plan. You told me, you would get me out."

"And I will," his mother said confidently even as she stood up to face him on even ground. "Just give me some time."

"Time?" he scoffed. "All I have ever given is time. All I have left is time."

"Draco," his mother said authoritatively, "I am doing what I can."

"You're doing nothing. I have waited for months. Months. Only to find out that the one hope I had is gone."

"Then you are better off than your father. He has no hope. I can't even get him a reduced sentence. But for you, I can."

"And do you have a plan, Mother?" he asked sarcastically.

Narcissa hesitated a moment before she nodded. "Andromeda does. She agreed to ask Potter to testify on your behalf."

Draco's eyes narrowed. "I am not asking that bloody prick for anything."

His mother chose to ignore his use of language. "You need this."

"I bloody well don't," he snapped, more out of pride than anything else.

"You will accept his help," she said snapping at him loudly. Her eyes widened in surprise at her own outburst before she quickly glanced at the Auror to see his reaction. Draco curbed his tongue, knowing that if he said anything to his mother about her need to be so prim and proper, the real issue would never be addressed. And regardless of her high society antics, he rather fancied being free of this place.

"He could have said something before."

"Stop acting like a spoilt child, Draco," his mother reprimanded as she moved towards him. "Andromeda agreed to get Potter to help. Who could refuse the one person who defeated the Dark Lord? If he asks for your release, they'll grant it."

She had a point that he didn't want to admit. "We're not sure about that," he mumbled moodily.

"No. But we can hope." She stepped forward and grabbed his arm comfortingly. "I will speak to him if I have to. If anyone can get you out, it's him."

"Helped by Potter," Draco muttered, "he'll never let me live that down."

Narcissa smiled in amusement. "Sometimes, pride is not the most important thing. You should know that better than anyone." Taking a step forward, she grabbed his arm lightly. "Tell me, have the dreams stopped?"

His eyes quickly darted to the Auror who had gone back to standing stiffly as if he was ignoring their conversation. He intended no one to ever know. He knew that they would enjoy any given chance to send him on a one way trip to St. Mungos. Azkaban, he could get out of, but not a secluded ward where your own sanity is called into question.

His mother looked over her shoulder briefly before she turned back to him and took a step closer, dropping her voice to nearly a whisper. "You had another one?"

Draco nodded reluctantly, knowing what his mother would say next.

"What was it this time?" she asked carefully.

"I think..." he said carefully, "it was a rock. A rock killed a snake."

"A rock?" she asked, taken aback. "And what type of snake was this."

"I don't see why that matters."

Her eyes scrutinized him. "It obviously matters enough for you to not tell me."

With a tired sigh, Draco decided to give in to his mother's delusions. "It was a silver snake."

"A silver snake?" she muttered thoughtfully.

"With emerald eyes."

That immediately got her attention. "Just like your father's staff?"

He knew he shouldn't have said anything. "It was a dream. It makes sense that I dreamed of things that I have seen. Including Father's staff."

"No, Draco. This is important. Was there anything else that was different?"

He shook his head, keen on moving on from this topic of conversation. "No."

His mother looked at him thoughtfully, probably trying to decide if he was keeping something from her. "What about the-"

"It's time." The commanding voice of the Auror interrupted her.

Narcissa looked over at the guard with an exasperated sigh before she embraced him. "I will see you soon."

He couldn't help but scoff into her shoulder. 'Soon' was a dictated term. "Keep safe."

She released him before she affectionately ran her hands through his hair, her fingers moving the platinum blond strands away from his eyes. "You too." With a last sad smile, his mother held herself up elegantly, the way she always did just before she attended a grand ball, and headed towards the Auror. "I'm ready," she said curtly with an impatient nod. The Auror opened the door almost reluctantly and waited until she passed before following her. Draco couldn't help but smirk at his mother's antics. Even when they were the lepers of society, she somehow managed to ensure that she was perceived as a lady of high society.

The entrance of the two Aurors to accompany him back to his cell turned his smirk to a habitual sneer. He really hoped Potter was his salvation. At this point, he didn't care about the wanker. All he wanted was his freedom.

TBC