Chapter 15

Spring 2002

Draco's POV

The room was aglow with golden light and he didn't think he'd ever been happier than that night. It was the Yule ball again; Granger and Theo looked just as bloody gorgeous as he remembered them being. Gods I couldn't possibly love them more than I do right now.

He held onto Granger's hand for just a moment longer as Theo came to claim her for his turn to spin her around the floor. Draco had shared a dance earlier with Theo after they'd first gotten the room, before Theo had ventured back into the castle to find their witch. Or the witch who would be theirs if they had anything to say about it.

Theo twirled Granger gracefully around the ballroom, and Draco felt as though everything in his life was finally going to be alright. If he had the two of them, there was nothing else he needed in this world. Their brown curls were so similar, only shades apart. Both were completely brilliant as well, coming in respectively at first and second in their year. Honestly their only competition was each other, no one else came close to the marks they made. Draco laughed, sipping his champagne, he certainly had a type. Warmth filled him from his head to his toes, and he didn't think he could be happier than he was in this moment.

The golden glow of the Room of Requirement faded to the cold grey of his soundless cell and he was alone. His back pressed into the stones that he knew now by feel rather than sight. The grey mirk of the cell's dull light made it as though all the colour had been sucked out of life. It was constantly a pale twilight in his cell except for when it was pitch black on moonless nights or during storms. The stones were always cold and damp. How long had he been here now? Time blurred and became meaningless when you were never ever getting out.

Worse than the faint light, Draco couldn't hear anything. Not the drip of water he could see in the corner, not the wind outside, not his own breath, certainly not Theo, who he hoped was still in the cell next to him. He couldn't feel him, couldn't feel their bond. Couldn't feel Hermione either, wherever she was far past the sea.

Where were they? Were they dead? Was he truly alone? Draco opened his mouth to scream, but like everything else, it was soundless. Was anything even real anymore? Perhaps he wasn't screaming at all, as he wished that death would claim him. If the others were dead, he didn't want to be alive. Alas, he knew he still lived as the pain in his ribs from the guards kicking the bloody hell out of him the other day radiated through his body. A pain in his chest when he tried to breathe left him with little energy and he knew another round of fevers was probably imminent. He felt so weak. Why was he still living when there was nothing more to live for?

Draco started awake, the sound of his own frantic breaths nearly sending him deeper into panic. There were so many noises; the sprinkled rain on the window, a cat's footsteps somewhere nearby, and oddly enough, other people's breathing. There were always sounds in his dreams now, as though his brain wasn't allowing him to forget what it was like, despite spending endless days and nights in the silenced ward of the hellish prison.

Draco blinked as he looked over and saw Granger sleeping next to him. But how did he know she was even real? So many of his dreams in Azkaban had seemed real, only for the moment of realisation to crush him later.

This one was just a bit more painful than the rest. She seemed so close. It wasn't the first time that he'd dreamt of being in bed beside her since he'd gone to prison. His sweet, perfect innocent girl. How he missed her, and seeing her now had him wondering how the real Hermione was doing. Was she safe? Did she think of him? Of Theo? He was so grateful that she hadn't ended up in this hellhole with them, that she'd managed to avoid it. How close it had been to her being tried as well, but Draco would gladly claim every one of her crimes as his own if it meant his beautiful soulmate was free.

Her face was turned away from him but her curls were wild and unmistakable. Gods, how he wished he could see her face right now.

He breathed in the scent of her, sweat, coconut and salt. Tears. She'd cried herself to sleep.

The dreams had bled into his waking hours making it unclear whether he was dreaming, awake or hallucinating. His frequent illnesses and the gnawing hunger muddied things even further. How long had he been in prison?

He looked over her body at the illusion of Theo who was asleep, his body sunken and starved, making Draco's heart clench.

Draco worried if he touched either of them that they'd disintegrate like mist and he'd be left alone again in his dark, soundless cell. It wasn't worth it. He'd touched a hallucination of Theo once as he kneeled at his feet. Theo's smile had been the last thing hanging in the air like the Cheshire cat in that story his lovers were so fond of. He'd wept until his eyes burned that day, his whole body aching from the wrenching sobs that had shook him.

In his mind he whispered the litany that consumed him:

Are Theo and Hermione real?

Am I still in Azkaban?

How would I know?

Am I going mad?

Are Theo and Granger ghosts?

Am I the one that is a ghost?

Are we all dead?

How would I even know?

Have I gone mad?

Draco's thoughts continued to spiral maddeningly until sleep finally claimed him again. This time he did not dream.

...

Beginning Note: The Yule Ball art for the cover was created especially for this story/chapter by Dralamy dralamy/?hl=en