What Else Can We Do?

Part 2:

The Dream Walker

Chapter 12:

'The Road goes ever on and on

Down from the door where it began.

Now far ahead the Road has gone,

And I must follow, if I can,

Pursuing it with eager feet,

Until it joins some larger way,

Where many paths and errands meet.

And whither then? I cannot say.'

~ 'The Road Goes Ever On' by J.R.R Tolkien

2000

How was I to know that one night would change my life forever?

I was never taught the value of big gestures, but of little ones. A sneer, a look, a word here and there. Nestled together, overlapping, like scales on a snake, they were as effective as armour. Attack one and you would fail if you didn't address the myriad others that slid into place. It made arguing with my father feel like being stuck in quicksand.

I was taught that a man's reputation was paramount. It was built on those everyday signs of superiority. Like a sizeable donation, or a vote in favour of the underdog at the Wizengamot. And perhaps putting someone in their place by using their title, or lack thereof, instead of their name. It often happened as a measuring stare across the table at dinner when I was sulking.

These little things had a place in the world my father was ushering me into. But not in my dreams.

There, big gestures were how they showed they cared.

1991

Draco had never been in a sand pit before and he found he liked it. He took a leaf and curled it, then made a hole through it with a stick to keep its shape. He put it on as the roof of the tallest tower of his sand castle, which had started off as Hogwarts but had become something less majestic and more practical as he went. It would do, he deemed as he inspected his work. He sat back and watched Albus as he dug the moat.

'I mean, who calls their child 'Albus'?' Draco said suddenly. It had been on his mind for quite some time now. His face scrunched up with a frown. 'It's such a fuddy-duddy name. . .'

'You're one to talk, Draco,' Albus responded dryly when he finished, sitting back with sandy hands on knees. 'You're named after a patch of stars.'

Draco straightened and lifted his nose ever so slightly. 'I prefer its proper meaning,' he replied.

Albus snorted. 'I'm afraid you're the furthest a person can get from a dragon.' He turned to look intently at their castle. With a flick of his hand, a tower that'd been close to breaking righted itself again.

'Well, your name is pretty boring,' Draco retorted. It was lame, he knew, but he'd been insulted. It could not go unanswered. He was a Malfoy.

'I was named after a good man, Momma said so,' Albus insisted with the seriousness he seemed to approach most things. It had tickled Draco something awful to find out that he shared a name with that crazy old Dumbledore, but he didn't think that was the 'good man' the boy was named after. Surely his parents weren't that daft.

'And your mother knows all, of course,' he replied with a deliberate shrug.

'In the Dreaming, she does.'

Albus was quiet when he looked down at the sleeping ball of white fur by his knee. A kitten's head appeared out from under an arm when he stroked its back. King was Albus' familiar and she followed him into the Dreaming often. She meowed softly and closed her eyes again when Albus scratched between her ears.

'Please don't anger them, Draco. They're powerful here.'

Draco looked up at Albus, blinking when he realised that he was clutching at the front of his shirt. He remembered locking himself in the dormitory bathroom to stare at his chest in the mirror, tracing the newly branded skin, raw, bloody and blistering, knowing it would scar. It hadn't been until he saw it in a library book that he knew what the mark depicted: the gate of horn. From what he read, the ancient Greeks used the term to describe true dreams. How it protected him from the shadow nightmares he couldn't figure out. But it did it all the same. He hadn't been back to his nightmare of the hallway since.

'That's what I've been wondering, Al,' Draco said, giving King a rub under her chin and getting a rumbling purr in return. 'What are they? Your parents, I mean.'

'That's not for me to say.'

Draco pressed on. 'But you're different from them, right?'

Albus gave him a cautious stare. 'I am.'

'Why don't you want to tell me?' he asked, hating the hurt in his voice. In a rush, he thought of the fun, the adventures they had had night after night, hopping from their dreams to others. How he had finally found someone to regale with his stories of Hogwarts.

How he often thought that this must be what it was like to have a little brother.

How had he been so stupid? His father would be disappointed with him. He had let someone in without a thought of what he could gain.

'Because I'm not sure you'll like me afterwards,' Albus replied, startling Draco out of his darkening thoughts.

'I'd rather you tell me than finding it out myself if that's all right with you,' was all Draco allowed himself to say.

Albus continued to stare, but his frown eased, making way for a wide-eyed searching look that made him seem owlish. King rubbed her head against his knee.

'I'm a Cambion,' Albus started quietly. 'That means I'm half-human, half-daemon. From the moment I was conceived I dreamed. My mind was set before my body grew to hold it.' He picked up King and let her hop onto his shoulder. 'There are so many minds passing through the Dreaming, Draco. They were my teachers and they didn't know it. I knew what the sun felt like before I saw it with my own eyes. I knew what love and fear felt like before I had the proper heart to feel it. Time moves strangely here in the Dreaming. My Momma says it made me old before my time,' Albus shrugged. 'Being like this doesn't feel odd to me. It's all I know.'

Draco tried to imagine what it must have been like. He couldn't dispel the horrible sinking feeling in his stomach at the thought. Perhaps he had had too much of the nightmares to think differently, but even the dreams he'd experienced were too chaotic to withstand for long. It was why they tried to hide in the corners, looking for those the moments between one dream and the next, knowing they didn't last.

To grow up in the Dreaming though. . . He didn't know if he could bear what Albus had.

'I think we should be friends,' Draco blurted out. He blinked, not quite believing he had actually said it.

'I would like that,' Albus answered with a small, tentative smile. It fell away just as quickly as it had come. 'It's not going to be easy. I'm different from you.'

'So?' Draco crossed his arms with a huff. 'It's not going to be a walk in the park with me either. I'm an 'evil' Slytherin apparently, according to Potter. And if you went to Hogwarts, you'd definitely be a Hufflepuff, I'm afraid. We're about as different as people can get, the whole half-daemon thing aside. But being different isn't bad.'

Albus considered this for a moment, before asking mildly, 'Hufflepuff?'

'They're generally silly, but they are loyal. Have to give them that.'

Albus snorted. Just as King decided it was time to groom him, the boy asked, 'But why me?'

Draco thought of teasing him, of making him laugh again. But he didn't want to hide from Albus. He saw too much of Draco for that. 'You're kind,' he replied. 'And I need a friend like that.' His mouth burned with the truth of it and his heart raced. He didn't know what he'd do if-

'Thank you. I think I need a friend like you too.'

xXx

And that, Draco ended off with a flourish and a smile, was the moment I made my very first friend. I remember feeling so very lucky, but I could've never imagined how truly blessed I was.