Through a Long and Sleepless Night – Chapter 5
He crash-landed on a pile of garbage.
Figures, he thought with a groan. He lifted himself up in a flash, craning his head all around him to make sure that nothing stuck to him or he didn't have any mysterious stains on his clothes.
He looked down at his shoes, now slightly scuffed. He scowled before kicking a tissue off his right foot.
It had to be well past midnight, but he felt rather refreshed despite the flickering light emanating from the window above him, attempting to lull him to sleep right there in the alley.
He leaped up to grab the bottom rung of the ladder, wincing as he lifted his right arm to grab the next rung. She really had quite an arm on her, the little wench.
He took off his blazer as soon as he made it safely back to his room. He grimaced at the patch of black and blue skin he saw.
"I'm going to kill her."
He kicked off his shoes, threw his shirt on the chair in the corner, and ended up doing the same with his pants. Down to his boxers, he stumbled to the foot of his bed and plopped face-down onto it.
He shivered and lifted his head up, bunching the blankets down at his feet before shimmying to reach them. He wrapped them around his body, bringing them all the way up to his ears and pulling them in toward him until he was swaddled in a cocoon of fleece.
As he lay in bed, unable to fall asleep, he thought about their few meetings.
In another rare moment of introspection, he realized that he liked how easy it was to talk to her. Compared to her Housemates, she was a lot less likely to put up with his bullshit and she had this sense of humor about her that was a bit too dark for a Gryffindor. He supposed he could chalk up her behavior to myriad things, but he found that he had no inclination to over-analyze whatever it was that was happening between them thanks to the portal, or to over-analyze whoever she was.
He turned his head to face the window, shimmying some more to compensate for the change in position. He felt himself wanting to look at the night sky more. It was never quite as black as it was when falling through the portal; there was always a bit of lightness to it, always a bit of color. Tonight there was a faint pink-peachy tinge that fringed along the horizon, expanding out and up to the stars.
He let his eyes flick up toward the sky. He was nowhere near as knowledgeable in Astronomy as she appeared to be, but he was able to appreciate the shapes and stories that went along with each constellation. He especially had a bit of pride at the fact that as long as he was in England, he would always be able to see the constellation he was named after.
He glanced down along the outline of his body to the clock on the adjacent wall. 2:30. In another seven hours he'd have to be packed and ready to leave the little dump of a hotel. He knew it was to return back home, to be away from the portal.
He forgot to tell her that last bit. But maybe it was for the best that their interactions were limited by the portal and her dreams.
It was safer that way.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew that the dreams would have to end.
Dreams of every memory of Hogwarts she's ever had. Dreams where she ran into a snide blond, who really wasn't as snide as she thought he was. Dreams of a sheet of black, flickering day and night, and the world that laid just beyond it.
Days passed by her as her nights became more exciting than the dreariness of waiting out the summer in her parents' home.
The dreams had long since stopped and yet she found herself looking for him among the dark cloaks that terrorized wizarding England. Her eldest brother's wedding had been attacked, Hermione had fled that night with Ron and Harry, and she would be returning to Hogwarts in a couple of weeks.
And yet, she searched for him as each of those events passed. Just something, anything, to know that he was okay.
In the few moments she had to herself, she couldn't help but contemplate her newfound attachment to him. Maybe it was because once she had learned more about the night of Dumbledore's death, she began to sympathize with him, or she now understood how much was at stake for him, or maybe it was something as simple as understanding the need to survive in a time of war.
In those brief encounters with him, she realized that she wanted to know more.
She had fallen asleep on the train when it happened.
She decided to share a compartment with Neville on the ride back to Hogwarts. Like every student returning that year, the war changed him. There was a sense of calm to his manner that betrayed the frantic, scatter-brained boy of just a few years ago. He understood her need for quiet and he never prodded her with constant questions about the Trio.
He had left their compartment to stretch his legs and buy some snacks for when Luna eventually joined them. The train was still an hour out from Hogwarts when her eyes started to droop. Neville was no more than a blur to her when he left.
She found herself in a child's bedroom. It couldn't have been hers or one of her brother's. The room was too large and contained way more furniture and toys than she remembered. Thick, heavy curtains hung in front of an alcove opposite the wall from where she stood. The only light in the room came from a couple of candles on a nightstand and moonlight seeping in through the area not covered by the heavy velvet.
From where she stood, she gathered that she was in a doorway. She walked further into the room when a sudden patch of light washed over her and half of a small bed tucked into a corner. It felt as though a breeze had somehow wafted by before she realized that the feeling was caused by a child running through her. Another person strolled in, pausing at a toy box against the wall adjacent to the door to toss in a plush toy dragon.
The dim space became brighter the longer the child and parent stayed in the room to the point where she realized where she was.
The child leapt onto his bed before jumping back down, curving his arms to his sides like they were giant leathery wings. He slowly flapped them up and down, puffing his cheeks together and blowing out long gusts of air as though smoke and fire were seeping from between his teeth. He roared, sounding more like a small jungle cat than a Norwegian Ridgeback.
He began circling around his mother, causing her to laugh.
The young girl felt another breeze pass through her as the father came into the room, scooping up his son and twirling him around in his arms. The child grinned and puffed his cheeks some more, blowing a gust of air as his father carried him past his mother.
"Careful, Draco. We don't want to burn your mother now do we?"
The boy, who looked to be about four or five in the brighter lighting, mumbled "sorry" to his mother as he was plopped down onto his bed.
"That's right, darling. Or else Mummy Dragon might have to attack!" His mother lunged forward, grabbing him by the waist as she tickled him mercilessly.
A hand flew to her mouth in an attempt to keep her from laughing. It didn't work.
"What? I suppose you thought that I was raised to be some sort of murderous, prejudiced, hate-filled little shite from day one?"
She whirled around to see the current version of the little boy seated in a rocking chair close to the window.
"M-murderous? No. Prejudiced? Maybe. Hate-filled? Possibly. Although you got the little shite part right."
He rolled his eyes as he got up. "What are you doing here?"
"Fuck if I know. One minute I'm falling asleep on the Hogwarts Express, then next minute I'm watching your parents try to put you to bed."
"That's weird."
"I thought we already went over the whole weird and crazy shit being par for the course bit. What I want to know is, why am I in one of your dreams this time? And, furthermore, shouldn't you be home by now?"
"I know, I know. Doesn't mean I'm still not used to it." He stood and walked over to her.
She folded her arms across her chest. "You didn't answer my questions."
He put his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. He took a deep breath. "I can't answer your first question. Mostly because I don't know the answer. Yes, it's a dream, but it's also a memory. Which I guess was what your dreams were too. The second one? I kind of go back and forth between my home and that dingy hotel."
"What do you mean you 'go back and forth'? I would think it'd be kind of hard to sneak off when a deranged killer wants your head on a silver platter."
He shrugged. "I only go back sometimes. It's not like they need me for anything. I'd only be useful for major attacks since I seem to cock up any other assignments they give me."
He walked over to the window, pushing the curtain to the side before sitting down in the alcove seat. She followed him, deciding that the floor looked just as comfortable. He started to pick at his nails. She cleared her throat, reminding him to continue.
"Besides, I was bored. I'm not all that great at the whole menacing Death Eater shit, believe it or not. They know I'm scared out of my wits, so I won't do anything to ruin the cause, as it were. And who would I go to? The Ministry? Please. We have friends in high places. And by 'we', I mean people like my aunt and uncle and their friends." He left out the part where he and his parents would be killed should he decide to fully jump ship. The last thing he needed was for her to be all noble and do something rash like form a rescue party. He snorted at the thought. Like any of her friends would be up for that.
"What's so funny?"
"Nothing."
"So you were saying that you went back?"
"Oh yes; I went back. But not permanently. Just every so often when the mood strikes me. I'm obviously not there right now."
"Hold on. How many times have you been back home?"
"I think I've gone back and forth three times now."
"Then how come this is the first time I'm seeing you like this?" Shit. That was a stupid thing to say. He didn't need to know that she had missed their odd meetings. He'd go off and think that what she really missed was him.
She rolled her eyes as the tips of his mouth curved into a small smile. "Are you trying to tell me something?"
"No," she replied, tossing a bit of hair off of her left shoulder. "I was just curious, is all."
He raised an eyebrow. "Well, as you can clearly see, I'm still alive."
She pulled her knees up to her chest, resting her head against them. It was getting close to that point — that time when she would go over every interaction, every word, every thought that led to the present. For her, understanding that portal or why she kept meeting him was the least of her worries. The question that kept swirling around in her head whenever they saw each other in the strange dreamland seemed to be the most basic: what was going on between them?
She felt like she was so far-removed from the war whenever she was around him. Like everything was perfectly normal and she would spend the rest of her day joking around on the train, anxious to see how the year would unfold. But this? For something that was usually so easy to figure out, she couldn't understand why she felt like she shouldn't accept the situation for what it was.
She could chalk it up to years of familial resentment. That would make sense, she reasoned. That would account for the nagging bit in the back of her mind that told her not to trust him. But he had told her where he had been hiding. That had to amount to something, right?
But what was it she had told him, in the moments of their first meeting in dreamland? She had acted so cool, so calm about it being him, of all people, that would be the only one she could speak to. Something about how they didn't really know each other. How, although she had been raised to behave otherwise, she truly didn't know enough about him to warrant such vitriol at the mention of his name.
"Are you okay?"
She heard the smooth glide of his shoes against the carpet and looked up to see that he decided to join her on the floor.
"I'm fine. I'm just —"
"Thinking?" he finished with a smile. "I can assure you, I've spent most of my time these days trying to figure out what, exactly, is going on. Granger would be so proud."
"Speaking of Hermione," she made a point to emphasize her friend's first name. If they were to work with another person on this whole mess, it would at least be nice if he used the other girl's first name. "She's now completely engrossed by this whole portal business. I can't wait to tell her about this recent development. I know she's going to pester me with a million questions; she'll probably have some for you, too."
"Great. More time spent around people that would like nothing more than to throttle me."
She slapped his knee. "You're being far too harsh on Hermione. She's nowhere near as pig-headed as my brother and Harry. Besides, she did find a small something on whatever may be going on."
He flopped back onto the carpeted floor, letting his arms rest at his sides, spread eagle style. "Why didn't you say anything earlier?"
She looked down at him, an eyebrow raised. "No wonder we ended up in a memory of you as a little kid because you are the biggest baby I have ever met."
He turned over to his side, propping his head up with his arm. "I may have to take offense to that."
She rolled her eyes. "I think you'll be fine. I know you've been called worse." She shifted so she was seated in the window alcove. "Like I was saying, Hermione's been doing some research. She hasn't found a whole lot for us to work with, but she did find some documentation of the portal popping up.
"Apparently, Dublin isn't the only city it's been reported in. There have been sightings near Paris, London, New York, Melbourne, Cairo, Shanghai, Rome, Athens, and Kyoto. There seems to be no rhyme or reason as to why it shows up where it does, but it is only seen once every 10 - 20 years or so. In the parts of East Asia that it's been spotted in, the schools tried using it as a test for their high level students as early as the 600s. They only stopped around the 1100s once their students started disappearing. From then on, it became part of their legends, with some even viewing it as a death shroud."
"Well that makes me feel so much better."
She held up a hand. "I'm not done! The only kind of 'scientific' research done was by our friends in New York in the late 1800s. The American Ministry commissioned a group from their Department of Mysteries to work on it, believing that it could assist them somehow. They weren't able to work on it long — only about a month or so — but they did determine that it was of legitimate magical origin. They were trying to figure out if it was an ancient spell of some kind, but the portal disappeared before they had a chance to research further."
"So what you're telling me is that we really have no fucking clue what this thing is."
"Sounds about right," she replied, nodding.
"Is there anything we can do now? I know Granger's off trying to save the world from my psychotic aunt and that snake amalgamation, but there has to be some way we can look things up on our own."
"Oh, sure, we could, but how do you expect us to communicate?"
"Bollocks."
The pair sat in silence, knowing that it was far too dangerous to risk the occasional owl or Floo message during such a volatile time. He initially thought that they could just exchange information any time they saw one another through the portal connection. But if that thing was only around for a month or so at a time, it didn't seem like a reliable means of communication.
"Do you plan on going back to school?"
"Did you see me on the train?"
"Well, no, but I thought maybe you'd get some kind of special escort or something since everyone hates you."
He flinched at the word "hates," but knew it was true. He would've been lucky if he survived two minutes on the Hogwarts Express. "Why bother? It's just like you said, everyone hates me, so why should I bother living and going to school in that kind of environment?"
"I'm sorry if I upset you." She frowned, realizing that her words may have been too harsh.
He dismissed her apology with a wave of his hand. "It is what it is. I may not like hearing it, but there's no use sugar-coating it. I'm a fucking pariah at the one place that I thought I could use to escape from this whole mess. And what's worse is that there's no one around to entertain me." He started whining again, huffing after the last syllable.
She couldn't help but smile. "I think you'll figure something out."
He lied down on the floor again, placing his hands under his head. "Would you let me visit you?"
"What?"
"Would you let me visit you?" He enunciated each word clearly, punctuating each syllable to ensure that she knew exactly what he said.
"I mean, I know that we have this weird connection thanks to a portal of questionable magical origin, but shit; at least take me out to dinner first."
The blond allowed himself a bit of a chuckle, which sounded incredibly strange to her. But a good kind of strange, she reasoned.
"I have no interest in anything like that, so no need to worry about it. I simply mean that, should I somehow figure out a way to sneak out without sending up the alarm, would you let me see you? To, you know, talk about this weird business and do some research."
"So you have no intention of using that excuse to worm your way into my pants?" She narrowed her eyes at him. He was still resting with his head on the floor, stubborn in his reluctance to make eye contact with her.
"On my honor as a Malfoy, I can assure you that your pants and anything underneath them will remain well intact."
"Fine. If you can find some way to visit me at Hogwarts without getting yourself killed, then yes, you can be my research partner."
A/N - Thank you for reading! I may not be able to update this one quite as quickly as As You Wish, but I'm hoping I can write far ahead enough to post consistently.