Through a Long and Sleepless Night - Chapter 7
He was back home. That much he knew for certain once the peerless obsidian of the portal gave way to polished marble and black carpeting.
He landed down the hall from a set of double doors, which really didn't give him much to go off of. There were plenty of rooms in the manor that could fit that description — the ballrooms, his parents' suite, his father's office, his own suite, their family library; the list was endless.
When he went to place a hand on the smooth, matte black handle of the door on the left, he noticed that it was already slightly ajar. He wasn't sure what he was going to see on the other side, but he hoped that whatever it was wasn't something that he didn't want her to see.
As this was clearly a potential memory for him, he was afraid that his ever-darkening days would not provide the kind of comfort or comedic relief the memory of him at four seemed to bring her.
While he knew she was no stranger to the Dark Lord's influence, he found himself wanting to shield her from his current dalliances. It was bad enough that the first dream he encountered her in was the night of Dumbledore's death. He didn't need her to see something that would sow seeds of distrust in their already fragile truce.
He took a deep steadying breath before gripping the handle and slowly pushing the door open.
She had to be in his home.
Process of elimination confirmed it as she padded through the halls. She shivered even though she never felt the cold in these dreams. There was an energy, a presence that felt foreboding; or maybe suffocating was a better word to describe the pressure creeping up her body.
Since she didn't know her way around, she kept walking straight ahead. It was strange, though. Even though she knew no one could actually see her, any time she heard or saw the slightest inclination of another person, she would scramble to hide.
As she kept walking, the light in the hallway seemed to glow brighter, as though it were telling her that she was on the right path.
Suddenly, she heard a loud wail coming from her left and she ran toward the noise, stopping at an open door.
She stood behind him at the threshold, watching as his shoulders slumped forward and his hands were brought to cover his face. Silent sobs began shaking his entire body and she didn't understand why. His body was blocking her view of what was inside the room, but he seemed to have no idea that she was so close to him.
She went to touch his shoulder when she heard a familiar voice. One she hadn't heard in a long time and was disturbed to hear it still dripped with malice and amusement.
"Again!"
She could feel her jaw clench at the word, while her hands squeezed into fists so tightly, she knew she had drawn blood. Her nostrils flared and she stepped to the side, hoping to see what was making him so upset.
She wasn't exactly sure what she was expecting, but she later recalled that it wasn't anything close to the sight in front of her.
There, shaking like a leaf in a heavy storm, skin ashen, and eyes rimmed with red, was the boy she had become connected to through their dreams. His wand was pointed at two men on the floor who were gasping for breath, curled in the fetal position on the ornate Persian rug at his feet.
"Again, Draco!"
She watched in silent shock as the dream/memory version of him took a visible gulp and uttered the word Crucio. Tears began streaming from his eyes as he watched the two men writhe in pain, which only caused her clamp a hand over her mouth to muffle her own heavy sobs.
"Do it again, boy! You need to mean it if you want it to work!"
At that she finally stepped forward to be next to the real version of him. She placed an arm around his shoulder, not caring that her touch prompted him to turn into her. He locked her into one of the tightest hugs she had ever experienced, loudly sobbing into her neck and shoulder. She held him just as tightly, letting her tears dampen his hair as she looked on in horror at what he was forced to do.
Somehow, in the pseudo-whimsy of their situation, she had forgotten what Harry had told her before their break up. The scared, traumatized boy currently holding onto her for dear life had become a Death Eater and with that came certain expectations that seemed to have been foisted onto him.
She had learned during her first year that cruelty was always the point with Tom. Even when he was at his sweetest or gentlest, everything was laced with cruelty. That seemed to be especially true for the boy she was holding on to. It was clear Tom took great pride in having the blond young man as one of his adherents, but that didn't mean that he was going to treat him with absolute kindness. Just as she had been forced to do things she'd give anything to forget, so did he. She was sure that this memory was the last thing he wanted her to see.
As his sobs began to slow, she started rubbing his back; mumbling words of comfort against his hair. She let him know it wasn't his fault. She let him know that he had no choice. She let him know that she understood. She let him know that she was there for him if he needed someone to talk to.
She knew she had already been feeling sympathetic towards him, but whatever inhibiting thoughts or feelings she had regarding him seemed to be thrown out the window to be replaced by an overflowing well of empathy. She thought he had been a product of his environment for the longest time and, at one point, he probably was. But seeing his reaction to both casting the Unforgivable spell as well as seeing his reaction to the memory of it put things in a new light for her.
Once his tears calmed to deep, shaking breaths, she began to move him away from the room. Neither one of them needed to bear witness to the pain and manipulation any more than they already had.
As she steered him down the hallway, she found the portal, heaving a sigh of relief that it was still there.
He was in no condition to be alone at the present time.
Under normal circumstances, he would be embarrassed.
But this was the furthest thing from a normal circumstance, so he let her take charge.
He had sensed her presence when she first walked up behind him and he was grateful that his body was mostly blocking her view of the scene in front of them.
He tried to minimize his emotions as a way to steel his nerves against her possible reaction, knowing that she would expect some kind of explanation. Imagine his surprise then when she placed an arm around him in comfort. It was all the permission he needed.
He clutched onto her body because he had no doubt that his knees would give way if he didn't have her to steady him. He let his pain ring out through the dreamland hallways as he nearly cried himself hoarse. He realized he was crying for everything he had been holding in since their connection was established. He cried for the role he played in Dumbledore's death. He cried for the pain he had inflicted over the past year. He cried for his parents being prisoners in their own home. He cried for the embarrassment he felt over her learning about such a dark secret of his. And he cried for himself. He had experienced things no normal sixteen or seventeen year old should experience and he hated himself for not having the courage to do something about his situation.
When he thought it couldn't get any worse, she comforted him. She comforted him. She didn't push him away in disgust. She didn't kick him while he was down. She didn't run screaming at the sight before her. Instead, she held onto him just as tightly, allowing herself to be a pillar of strength he didn't know he needed.
As his tears slowed, he could feel the hand rubbing along his back. The light pressure she was applying became a way to ground himself in the dreamworld. He needed to be able to exit the portal at some point and getting too consumed by his emotions was the last thing he needed.
In the haze created by her touch, he could hear softly spoken words of comfort tumble out of her lips. He almost believed her when she said it wasn't his fault or that he had no choice. But he was undone at the implication that she understood and he could feel himself standing on the edge of a very dangerous cliff when she said that she would be there for him if he wanted to talk about his experience.
With his eyes still scrunched closed against her now damp shoulder, he thought about what would happen if he did decide to succumb to the temptation and took a large leap into the unknown. He could imagine a weightlessness again, but this kind of falling felt different from the one he felt when he was moving through the portal. This one almost glowed with the calming tones of sunset — crimson and copper, rose and blush, lavender and indigo. His breathing slowed and he forced himself to take deep breaths, now unafraid of how his body shook against hers with each exhale.
He almost nuzzled against her neck as she led him away from the room, wanting to absorb as much of the comfort she was providing him as he possibly could.
Her steps came to a halt and he continued to hold on. Everything seemed to be hitting him all at once. His continued emotions regarding his memory struggled with the equally frightening revelation that she might actually mean something more to him than an erstwhile research partner. He had always been rather adept at compartmentalizing, but his current state made the task laborious and his feelings were too intense to be put back in the box now that they were out in the open.
He felt her sigh; her breath tickled the hairs at the nape of his neck and he wondered how warm it would've felt if this was out in the real world.
He took the pause in their walking as a sign that it was okay for him to release her from his grip.
She stepped back and he couldn't look at her. Shame had been brought to the forefront, making it difficult to call up the lighthearted camaraderie they had previously shared.
"Malfoy," she whispered, lifting his head up with a hand she had placed on his cheek.
He kept his eyes closed because even though she wanted to search them for answers, he still had a hard time facing her now.
"Look at me," she said, her voice thick with emotion.
He let his face relax then opened his eyes, concern now making itself known as he gazed upon her tear-stained face. Her waterline was a pinkish-red and he could tell that her eyes were still glassy even in the dimmer light of the hallway. Her nose and cheeks reminded him of strawberries as her freckles dotted splotchy patches of reddened skin. She sniffled and his attention was drawn to her lips — plusher than he remembered, but chapped from licking or wiping away tears.
"I'm sorry," he mumbled, thinking that it could apply to multiple scenarios at this point.
To his continued surprise, she shook her head. "There's no need."
"But there is. You knew I was hiding things from you and you still trusted me."
She shook her head again. "I couldn't have imagined that this was the extent of what you were hiding."
"I could've hurt you."
"You didn't though."
She looked towards the portal, something he didn't even notice when he first opened his eyes.
"It's time for you to return."
"But —"
She gave him a small, reassuring smile. "No buts, mister. We can talk about this further during your next visit. I don't exactly fancy having my research partner stuck in a dreamworld."
He sighed, grateful for her ability to bring lightness to just about every situation he found himself in with her. "Thank you." He paused, turning to face her once more. "Since tomorrow's Saturday, do you mind if I see you in the afternoon? I …" He trailed off. He knew exactly what he wanted to say, but he could feel his mind becoming cognizant enough to begin its practice of precise compartmentalization again.
Her smile remained as she nodded her head. "I'll see you tomorrow afternoon, Malfoy."
Ginny awoke with a start, shooting straight up in her bed before frantically looking around.
She sighed in relief and placed a hand on her chest to steady her breathing. When she pulled her hand away, she was surprised to see little red crescents where her nails had dug into the skin. Remembering what happened during the dream, she patted her cheeks and was surprised again at the slight dampness still clinging to them.
Well that was an interesting development. It seemed that her emotions were strong enough to cause a reaction in the real world, too. That might be a new thing she'd have to look into. It made sense, though. As she tried to think of a different type of dream that would also cause a strong reaction, her face flushed and her eyes went wide. Wet dreams couldn't be the only comparison and it was, without a doubt, definitely not the time to think about that.
She pulled her knees to her chest and rested her chin on top.
It was the first time she had seen such a dark memory of his during the time they'd been connected. That was also something she wanted to explore further. While they had technically met for the first time in a dream during the night he was supposed to kill Dumbledore, she never actually saw the encounter take place. But she saw this one and that had to mean something, didn't it?
Would it mean that his dreams would get progressively worse? Or would he eventually see one of her memories again?
She bit her lip as she thought, going over the four times they had encountered each other due to the portal.
The first two were instances where something had happened to each of them, but they never actually saw the act take place. The next two seemed to be more personal, they could see the actual events take place, and they were two separate memories of his. Did it mean that he was subconsciously willing to show her more of what he was like?
She scrambled to the foot of her bed, groping blindly in the dark for her school bag. She yanked it into her lap once she found the bag's strap before remembering that she was a witch and she had a bloody wand and it would probably behoove her to actually use it. She whispered Lumos and rifled around until she found the notebook she was using to jot down her research notes.
She began scribbling down all of her questions, not wanting to forget them after falling back asleep.
Underneath the lines of questions, she wrote down a note to herself. It was a small theory and she was hoping she could test it out sooner rather than later.
Ask Malfoy when he plans to return to Dublin. Figure out a specific memory that's okay to share with him and think about it as you fall asleep.
She sighed again, this time in contentment and triumph. If her theory was on the right track and she could get her idea to work, it could change everything they thought about the portal.
A/N - Thank you, as always, for reading and/or leaving a comment!