|
Breaking Destiny By: DangerMouse Chapter I "Hey, uh, Draco, you okay?" Draco stopped in mid-step on the stairs leading out of the Slytherin Dungeon and turned to glare at Gregory behind him. "The next person who asks me that is going to be spending the rest of the day in a terrarium," he snapped. Greg blinked, his face twisting into a confused expression. "As a newt," Draco clarified. "Oh," Greg replied, taking a step back. "Sorry." Draco sighed, shaking his head as he resumed his ascent. It was still fairly early in the morning for many people to get up, but Draco slept very little. Greg and Vince would usually get up when he did, simply out of habit. It was nice getting to the Great Hall for breakfast before everybody else, when it was still quiet. With so many young people in one place, "quiet" was a rare commodity indeed. And his headache needed quiet. As Draco had hoped, the Great Hall was empty, save Professor Flitwick, another early riser. The little man gave them a quick nod, which Draco pointedly ignored. Instead, he went to his usual seat at the Slytherin table, Vincent and Greg taking their places across from him. Draco stared at his plate as it magically filled itself with all of his favorite breakfast foods. Rather than eating, he poked at it with his fork, his stomach aching with nausea. The dreams were definitely getting worse. For the past few months, he'd been having his "suffocating dreams." Drowning in the lake, having a pillow held over his face by a hooded man, standing in a wooded glade, only to be accosted by the same group of men and strung up in a tree, and so on and so forth. Draco thought one should get used to such things after a time, but each dream seemed more terrifying than the last. And they always started off so nice... Draco frowned, dropping his fork on the table, watching as the other students made their way in for breakfast. The Slytherin table was parallel to the far east wall of the Great Hall and Draco always sat in such a way that he could see everything going on around him. He felt safer that way. His eyes were inexplicably drawn to the Gryffindor table on the far west side of the hall (separated for obvious reasons), where the infamous Trio had taken their seats, Potter facing away from him as usual. Potter. Why was it always Potter? Draco frowned again. He had never been in his dreams before. Everything else about the dream he understood, but Potter? What did he have to do with anything? Standing there, his face filled with pity, watching him drown, not even trying to help - that made everything almost worse. As if by fate, The Boy Who Lived suddenly turned around his seat, looking straight at Draco. The smaller boy started in shock, before finding himself looking away, turning instead to talk to Pansy. Damn him, Draco thought angrily. Damn him. * * * * * * "What is it, Harry?" Hermione asked him, sounding concerned. Harry sighed, dragging his eyes away from the Slytherin table and facing his friends. He rubbed a hand against his forehead, his scar still aching dully. He felt nauseous. "I don't know," Harry confessed, pushing his plate away. "Weird dreams, I guess." "More dreams about You-Know-Who?" Ron asked worriedly, resting both elbows on the table. Harry shook his head. "Nothing like that. It was..." Harry trailed off, not sure how much he wanted to reveal to his friends. "Just weird," he concluded, ignoring Hermione's skeptical look. "Too much treacle last night, or something." "You know you can always talk to us if something is bothering you, Harry," Hermione told him, giving him a very pointed look. Harry nodded, giving his friends a small smile. Ron and Seamus started talking to him about the upcoming Quidditch match between Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw and Harry made the appropriate noises and the appropriate times, but his thoughts were drifting away. Draco. Harry fought the urge to turn around and look at the blond Slytherin behind him. He looked so different in the dream, so calm and beautiful. Harry wondered if his hair was really that long. Draco kept his hair tied back in a tight bun at the base of his neck since he had started growing it out - not that Harry noticed such things about the Slytherin in question, no sir. Draco looked so strange, like someone bleached all of the color out of him. His eyes a sparkling silver and the hair to match were emphasized by the stark contrast of the heavy, black robes he often wore. Harry couldn't understand how Draco managed to stay pale as death, regardless of the hours and hours Harry knew the Slytherin spent outside with his Quidditch team. Still, on Draco, the paleness didn't make him look sickly, rather, he almost glowed, a quiet sort of radiance. Radiance. Harry almost groaned, resisting the urge bang his head on the table. It was that lousy dream, distorting his perception of the little bastard. Draco wasn't radiant. He was a jerk and a spoiled brat. It didn't matter at all that he was attractive and beautiful and -- "Harry? Harry!" Harry blinked rapidly, turning around to face Ron who had obviously been trying to get his attention for some time. Wait - when did he turn away from Ron? "Harry, what's wrong?" Ron asked him, concern quickly turning to irritation. Harry felt a blush rising on his face before he could stop it. "Nothing's wrong," he told the growing number of Gryffindor eyes looking at him. He glared at the plate of food in front of him, trying to ignore the questions in their eyes. "Nothing at all." * * * * * * Potter was staring at him. All through Care of Magical Creatures, in the hallways, during Potions Class, at lunch, in the library - every time he and Potter shared a class or came with in ten feet of each other, Draco could feel a pair of emerald green eyes burrowing into his back of his head. Or the side of his head. Or straight on. And every time he met those myopic green eyes, they immediately shifted away. It was getting extremely irritating. Finally, at breakfast the next day, he could take it no more. Tossing his napkin on the table, Draco stood up suddenly, startling his housemates. He ignored them and walked purposely towards the Gryffindor table, also ignoring the silence that had fallen over the Great Hall as the members of other houses watched him, expecting there to be an interesting confrontation. He could sense some of the teachers rising from their seats, more than likely also expecting a fight of some kind as well. Draco stopped right behind the messy-haired Gryffindor who had just looked away from him not five seconds earlier. Draco saw the color rising on Weasley's face where he sat across from his friend, spoiling for a fight. Draco ignored him, too. "WHAT?" Draco said a little louder than he intended. "What is it?! What do you want?!" Harry turned around and met his gaze, actually looking a little... embarrassed? Draco wanted to hit him. "I... I don't know what.." Harry began, standing up. "Yes, you do!" Draco practically shouted, cutting him off. "All day all you've been doing is staring at me! I mean, what, did I grow HORNS or something? What the HELL do you want from me?" Harry opened his mouth to reply but was cut off once again, this time by the angry read head that had appeared by his side. "Are you that full of yourself, you git?" Ron yelled, stabbing a finger into Draco's chest. "Are you so conceited that you think the whole world revolves around you? Nobody's staring at you, you... you... paranoid albino freak of nature!" Draco gaped at Ron, working his mouth like a fish for a moment before everything suddenly clicked into place. "It's a conspiracy!" he almost shouted, a strange sort of hysteria rising in his chest. A small part of his mind told him this was getting out of hand. He squashed it. "You're all in this together! It's all part of some plan to drive me crazy, isn't it?" Silence filled the Great Hall. "You ARE insane!" Ron said after a beat. "Yeah, yeah, I'm on to you!" Draco shouted back. He turned to look at Harry, who had sat back down and was staring at his food, a slight blush on his face. "You leave me alone!" he snapped at the boy, then spun on his heel and exited the hall with as much grace as he could muster. Ron sat back in his chair, watching him go for a second, then turning back to his table, shaking his head. "He's flipped," Ron said simply. "I knew it would happen eventually." "Perhaps," Hermione replied, looking at Harry, an unreadable expression on her face. * * * * * * A short while later, Draco found himself wandering aimlessly through the halls, lost in thought. He knew he was late to his first class, Herbology having started a good ten minutes ago. For once, Draco didn't care about his studies or the detention he would receive for missing class. "I need to get some sleep," he murmured, sinking down to the floor, his back against the cold stone of the hallway. Lack of sleep apparently led to paranoia, which apparently led to embarrassing outbursts in front of the entire school at breakfast. Draco was known for never losing his cool, a behavior forced into him from birth by tutors giving lessons on decorum and proper upper-class behavior. His father would be so disappointed in him. "So what else is new?" he muttered bitterly, closing his eyes and burying his head in his hands. "Mr. Malfoy, shouldn't you be in class?" Great, Draco thought. Could this day get any worse? Draco looked up, seeing the tall potions master standing over him, looking down along his long nose. "Yes, sir, Professor Snape," Draco replied dully, not making any move to get up. Severus sighed. "Follow me, Mr. Malfoy," he said sharply, but not unkindly. The tall man turned and walked swiftly down the hall, not looking to see if Draco was following. The young blond pulled himself to his feet and shuffled after his teacher. They walked without speaking, Severus skillfully navigating the winding staircases that led down to the dungeon, his steps sure and measured. Draco idly wondered if you could play a concerto by the sound of his even steps, then mentally slapped himself. There went that crazy thinking again. He really needed to stop doing that. Finally, they arrived at a familiar portrait, the professor muttering a word softly under his breath, the painting swinging wide open. Draco followed his teacher into his private quarters, looking around at the room that hadn't changed in the five years he'd been going to Hogwarts. The predominate feature in the room were the books - books of every color and age, lining nearly every wall in worn, but sturdy, wooden bookcases. A warm fire crackled in an oversized fireplace, filling the room with warmth and light. The furnishings were all old, but well cared for, including a long desk with a comfortable looking ornate chair behind it in the center of the room and two squashy over-stuffed maroon arm chairs set out before it. A locked glass cabinet to the right of the desk held some of the most rare and powerful potion components in the known world, but Draco also knew a few bottles of potent alcohol were also kept there, under heavy wards. A dark entry way led out of the back of the room, leading to Severus' private potions lab, a place Draco had been only a few times when he was permitted to assist his favorite teacher in a particularly difficult concoction. A small folding cot served as his only bed, tucked between two large cauldrons in the lab. Potions often required constant watching, true experts in the craft having trained themselves to need only brief periods of sleep when their creations needed to simmer. As Snape sat down in his chair behind his desk, Draco collapsed into one of the armchairs, picking at the cloth on the arm, not looking at his professor. "Would you like to tell me what's going on, Draco?" Severus said without preamble. "What do you mean?" Draco asked innocently, not meeting Severus' eyes. "I don't have time for this, Draco," Severus snapped. "I have a class in two hours." "And I have a class right now," Draco retorted with a careless shrug. "You don't see me complaining." Severus sighed deeply, reaching up a hand to massage the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes briefly. "Draco..." he said, looking back at his student, a warning tone in his voice. "Sorry," the boy said, finally looking up and meeting his teacher's eyes. "I'm having a bad day." "I figured as much, after that disgraceful display at breakfast," Severus said as Draco cringed. "What I want to know is why you are having such a bad day." "I haven't been sleeping well." Draco closed his eyes and leaned back in the chair, breathing in the scents of herbs, fungus, and smoke around him - a scent he knew he would always identify with Severus. "Bad dreams." "What sort of dreams?" Severus asked, leaning forward, looking concerned. Draco opened his eyes shrugged again. "Me dying, mostly," he said, gazing impassively at Severus shocked expression. "Dying? Dying how?" "Drowning, hanging, smothering, suffocating..." He ticked off each death on his fingers as if he were making a grocery list. "That sort of thing," he finished. "And how long has this been going on?" Severus asked him, his voice going stern. "About, oh..." Draco hedged, looking down again, then softly said, "five months." "FIVE MONTHS!" Severus exploded, jumping up from his chair. "Why didn't you come to me sooner, you silly boy!" "I didn't think they meant anything," Draco said defensively, watching his teacher pace angrily across the room and back again. "I figured it was just stress." Severus stopped back at his desk, leaning over to look at Draco at eye level, his hands tapping on the wooden surface. "I may not take much stock in Divination and Prediction, but even I know dreams, especially wizard dreams, mean something!" He sat back down in his chair, glaring at his favorite student. "You should have come to me sooner. You know better than that." "I know," Draco said, hating how meek his voice was coming out. "I just didn't want to worry you. You have enough on your plate as it is, what with Dumbledore and all." "I'll pretend you don't know anything about that," Severus said flatly. Draco gave a little grin. "Right," he said. "I know nothing, I hear nothing, I see nothing." "Knowing nothing, at least that much is certain," Severus quipped, then grew more serious. "Draco, these are dangerous times. I need you to be well rested and healthy. Merlin knows, Lucius will have my head or worse if I let anything happen to you." "Probably the 'or worse,' actually," Draco replied cheerfully. Severus shook his head. "Probably," he agreed. He reached out and grabbed a piece of paper, writing a quick note. "Go back to class now," he said, handing Draco the note. "As far as Professor Sprout is concerned, you're late because you were helping me with a project." "Thanks," Draco said, grateful, standing up. "I want you to come back here tonight," Severus said, also standing. "I'll give you something to help you sleep. The last thing we need is anymore... public confrontations." "I understand," Draco said, still feeling like cringing at the memory. He started to leave, but was halted by Severus' voice. "One more thing Draco," said the professor. Draco turned to look back at his teacher, his hand on the door. "How's the list coming along?" "I have thirty or so names so far," Draco said, keeping his voice low. "I have a few more people to talk to before I can let you know for sure." "Bring that tonight as well," Severus instructed. With a quick nod, Draco turned and walked out the door, letting it shut quietly as he left. As soon as he was gone, Severus collapsed into one of the armchairs, closing his eyes and rubbing his temple. Without further fanfare, he reached into a pouch kept by his waist, taking out a pinch of blue powder and throwing it into the fire. "Connect me to Lucius Malfoy," he said in a clear voice, then sat back and waited for his friend's visage to appear in the flames. A/N: What is The List? Why are Harry and Draco sharing dreams? Did Snape really explode when he said the phrase "FIVE MONTHS?" Answers to all these questions and less in the next chapter of "Breaking Destiny!" prologue, part one, part two, part three, part four, part five, part six, part seven, part eight, part nine, part ten, part eleven, part twelve back |