Chapter One: The Dream
(Word Ct. 995)
At twenty-five years old, Draco Malfoy came to realize a few important things about himself. One of them was that he had been a terrible git as a teenager, and he had no idea how on earth Harry found the grace to forgive him let alone attach his life and magic to Draco’s forever. The second thing, and maybe the most important because it was probably the thing that made all the other realizations possible, was that in order to be the man that he was supposed to be he needed to stop denying the parts of himself and his magic that his peers and his family would frown upon.
This led to the understanding that he had to embrace the dreams that he’d been hiding, writing them off as only hormonal fueled nightmares, were actually stark looks at possible futures. They were also frantic warnings to get off of his ass and do something before his world changed irrevocably and not for the better. It was what urged him to seek out the most famous boy wizard in all of England and mend fences in their third year, and it was what he thought saved himself from a stark and lonely life.
Because of this, when he opened his eyes and saw nothing but black, white and varying shades of grey, he knew that it was serious, and he needed to pay attention to every little detail. Draco never knew whose life would be ruined if he did not. In front of him was the outer wall of what he guessed was an old castle ruin or something similar. The wall was made up mostly of rocks and mud, and in the middle was a square shaped window. Some of the walls had crumbled with time leaving a V-shaped section missing from the bottom window ledge. There was a metal hook that had been placed into the upper part of the window, and he imagined days past where that hook held maybe a potted plant or drying herbs.
Directly outside it was hard to tell from where he was standing, as he was as of yet unable to move forward to get a better look, but it appeared as though anything living had long ago died leaving nothing but dirt and a single dead tree in the distance. There was a dark-haired man dressed in what appeared to be a suit that was slightly too big for his frame headed toward the dead tree. It should be hard to tell who the man was because all that he could see was the back of the man as he headed away from Draco, but given that he’d been watching him his whole life, he knew exactly who the man was.
Sometime after things fell apart, and everything around him was revealed to be lies and trickery, his father Lucius made some changes. The most startling had been the day he’d come home with his white-blond hair dyed jet black. The two hadn’t been on the same page since Draco came to his senses and helped Harry and his friends learn the truth about Sirius Black. It was a big moment for Draco that only supported how much he needed to listen to his dreams.
Helping Sirius hadn’t been easy and had only estranged him from his father further. It also put his mother in an even more difficult position than she had been in already stuck between the obligations she felt she felt for her husband and her motherly instincts to protect her only child.
Draco had grown up adoring his mother and believing his father was the man he should be when he was an adult. It had been a hard and painful life lesson to find out just what kind of man Lucius Malfoy really was. Knowing the consequences though of what would have happened had he not acted, Draco had willingly born the weight of guilt of what turning his back on his father, and his teachings did to his family. He was able to sleep at night because he knew just how horrible things would have turned out for them all if he hadn’t. Having his father hate him was better than all the evil that would come if he helped the Dark Lord return.
After he and Harry graduated from Hogwarts and moved on in their lives, Draco all but turned his back on his parents. While he loved his mother dearly, or maybe because he did, he couldn’t ask her to be stuck between himself and his father any longer. Walking away hurt, but he knew it was the right thing to do, and it had been years since he’d laid eyes on either of his parents. Nonetheless, he’d know his father anywhere, even from the back. He couldn’t help but wonder what he was doing in such a barren place.
So, caught up in studying the image in front of him, Draco almost didn’t register the feel of hot air burning the skin on the back of his neck. Once he did though, he froze as the pain of the burn registered in his brain screaming danger to him. Typically, he didn’t feel pain in these dreams. He was primarily a voyeur and nothing more. There were no emotions, no pain, no nothing because the things he witnessed were typically not his. Only, apparently, this time it was different. He had no idea what that meant, and he was more than a little afraid to turn and find out.
Once he did, he was met with blood red eyes and black scales. Knowing an angry dragon when he saw it, Draco remained quiet and listened to the deep rumble of the dragon’s words.
“Find them. Leave. Do not come back.”
When he woke up the world was dark but colored again. Harry was sleeping next to him, but the rest of Draco’s world was crumbling at his feet.