Unfortunately, the pleasant thought didn’t stay. Harry’s subconscious was obviously still focused on Lucius Malfoy, and his nightmares surrounded his past meetings with the man. Mixed in with the real memories were terrifying images of both the younger and older Draco thrashing on the ground screaming in pain, while Lucius held his wand focused on the boy and laughing cruelly. The laughter slowly changed until it was sounding sickeningly like Voldemort’s high pitched cackle.
Harry woke with a scream still caught in his throat. He jerked upright and stared wildly at his surroundings, clutching his throbbing forehead. Panting heavily, he snagged his glasses off the bedside table and quickly put them on, desperately attempting to reorient himself.
As the darkened room came into focus, Harry realized that everyone was awake once again. Neville was sitting at the end of his bed trying to calm a sobbing Draco. Ron was sitting next to him and Harry realized that Ron had probably been trying to wake him for at least a few minutes. Dean and Seamus were standing beside his bed, shifting nervously and looking worried.
“Do you need to go see Dumbledore?” Ron asked anxiously.
Harry shook his head, but then regretted the movement immediately, and renewed the pressure of his hand pressing into his forehead. He held his other hand out to Draco and the little boy came scrambling into his lap immediately.
“Harry, are you sure you don’t need to see Dumbledore?” Ron didn’t sound any less anxious.
“No, he was just laughing at my nightmares,” Harry said hoarsely. Ron and the others all looked terrified. They all understood who ‘he’ was. Even Dean and Seamus understood that much, though they didn’t know about everything that Harry was subjected to under Voldemort.
Neville and Ron knew how deeply Voldemort could affect Harry. With Neville being a part of everything that had happened last spring, he’d learned far more about what Voldemort was capable of.
“No visions?” Neville asked nervously.
“No, just nightmares with a twist,” Harry said bitterly.
Ron handed Harry a glass of water, which Harry gratefully drank down. The cold liquid felt wonderfully soothing on his raw throat.
“Are you okay?” Draco choked out between sobs. “I was so scared.”
Harry tried to ignore the pain in his forehead and wrapped both arms around the little boy, shushing him. “Shhh, I’m okay. I didn’t mean to scare you. This was why I was kind of worried about you sleeping with me, because I have nightmares just like you do. I’m so sorry I woke you up and scared you. Shhh, it’s all right now.”
Harry felt absolutely horrible for upsetting Draco and his misery showed on his face. Draco lifted his little hands and placed them on Harry’s cheeks. “It’s all right, Harry. I was just scared for you because you were screaming so loud and you wouldn’t wake up. I was scared you were hurt bad.”
Harry gave him a small smile. “I’m all right, angel.”
Draco stretched up and kissed Harry on the forehead then threw his arms around Harry, giving him a big hug. Ron passed Harry yet another handkerchief and Harry got the boy cleaned up before tucking him back into bed under the blankets. Harry was amazed at the boy’s resilience when Draco promptly fell back asleep, assured that Harry was okay and that he himself was safe.
Dean and Seamus had already drifted back to their beds when they realized Harry was going to be all right. Ron and Neville were still staring at Harry a bit anxiously, though.
“Are you sure you’re all right, mate?” Ron asked, once he was sure Draco was asleep. “You-know-who didn’t plant any visions or anything?”
“No, Ron,” Harry said wearily. “After everything that happened yesterday I was dreaming about Lucius and all the different times I’ve dealt with the bastard. Only this time I was also seeing him torture Draco, both four and sixteen, under the Cruciatus curse. He was laughing cruelly at his son, but then the laughter turned into Voldemort’s and that’s when I woke up.”
Ron and Neville both flinched at the sound of Voldemort’s name, causing Harry to roll his eyes. He didn’t comment on it, though, because both of them were already looking terrified and slightly green at the realization that Voldemort had gotten through the link to Harry’s mind again.
“I appreciate your concern, but I’m fine. Well, not fine exactly, but there’s no emergency. I don’t need to see Dumbledore and there’s nothing else to be done. Just go back to bed. I’m sorry that I woke you guys up yet again tonight,” Harry said.
“No problem, mate. We’re here for you when you need us,” Ron said, and Neville nodded his agreement. They were still looking concerned, but they both slowly went back to their beds.
It wasn’t long before Harry could hear everyone sleeping peacefully again. He knew he wasn’t going to be going back to sleep, though, if for no other reason than the fact that his head was still throbbing. He made sure that Draco was tucked in securely, and carefully climbed out of bed.
Harry rummaged through his trunk until he found what he was looking for. He snagged some ink and a quill from his bag, then went to sit on Draco’s unused bed. He pulled the bed curtains part way to shield the light, but left them open enough where he could still see Draco and keep an eye on him.
Harry propped himself up against the headboard and pulled the blankets up over his lap to keep warm, getting himself comfortable. Only then did he take a look at what he’d retrieved from his trunk. It was a leather bound diary that Hermione had given him for his birthday. Diaries were kind of a girly thing, but she’d said that she’d given it to him because maybe it would help him deal with the loss of Sirius. Writing was therapeutic, she’d said.
Harry ran his hand over the fine leather and the gold lock. It was a key lock but Hermione had charmed it so that it would only open with whatever password Harry chose and a tap of his wand. It worked similar to the way the Marauder’s Map worked.
Harry had never written in the diary. The idea of writing in a diary had reminded him too much of Riddle’s diary. And those were far from pleasant memories.
Now, however, Harry sat staring at the diary in his lap. He wasn’t thinking about Riddle, Hermione or even Sirius. He was thinking about Draco, and he was thinking about his own childhood.
For ten years of Harry’s life there was almost nothing to show that he’d even existed. There were no pictures of him, no mementos of any kind, and certainly no one who would reminisce with fond memories relating to his childhood. Harry had lost his parents and had no memory of them. He’d had Sirius for such a short time. Remus was the only one left and even Remus could only tell him about a few things that had happened in Harry’s first year of life.
Harry glanced over at the little boy sleeping peacefully in Harry’s bed. Harry couldn’t be sure of what had happened to Draco Malfoy, but he strongly suspected that the boy was looking for a second chance. Extreme to be sure, but then, Draco’s life had been extreme so far. Of that Harry was positive.
With a firm resolve, Harry opened the diary and began writing about everything that had happened since Draco’s cauldron had first exploded. Good and bad, Harry recorded it. Harry hesitated only briefly as he debated whether or not to include his own personal thoughts and feelings regarding the boy. It wouldn’t be the same without the personal touches, so Harry included them. Of course, he didn’t include anything too personal.
Two hours later, Harry closed the diary and locked it with a sense of satisfaction that he was doing something good. Although, he did decide that he was going to call it a journal instead of a diary. The word ‘diary’ still had too many bad connotations. He snorted softly to himself, realizing it didn’t technically matter what he called it.
It was almost seven o’clock and Harry started gathering his and Draco’s things for the day. Harry woke up the sleepy boy, who wasn’t ready to be awake yet, and hustled him into the shower. He was almost glad they hadn’t had time to shower the night before when the shower helped to refresh and wake them both up a bit. Although neither of them were still particularly alert and at their best, they were better than they were.
Chapter 9: Lessons
The dorm was unusually quiet that morning as all five dorm mates and Draco got dressed and ready for the day. Somehow, they all managed to troop down to the common room together where Hermione and Ginny were waiting for them. Harry wasn’t sure, but he thought his friends were deliberately sticking close to himself and Draco this morning, making sure they were all right after the nightmares the night before.
Hermione and Ginny frowned in concern at the subdued group. “Is everything all right?” Hermione asked worriedly. Harry’s friends all turned to look at him. Even Draco looked up at him.
Harry rolled his eyes at their worry, even as he looked a bit sheepish for having woken everyone up during the night. “Everything’s fine. We’re all just a little extra tired this morning. That’s all,” Harry said with a tone of finality. He wasn’t going to say anything more, particularly with Draco present.
The worry didn’t lessen from the girls’ expressions but they didn’t say anything else. They all trooped out of the common room to go to breakfast. No one seemed particularly surprised to see Crabbe and Goyle waiting for Harry and Draco, although the other Gryffindor boys watched the Slytherins warily. Harry and Draco just exchanged good mornings with them, and then led the odd group down the hallway.
Hermione and Ginny held Ron and the other Gryffindor boys back. Harry knew they were trying to find out what had really happened the night before. Harry didn’t mind as long as they didn’t bring it up around Draco. Then again, he didn’t particularly feel like talking about it himself either.
When they got to the Great Hall, Harry and Draco parted from the two Slytherins to have breakfast with the Gryffindors. Harry loaded Draco’s plate with bacon, eggs and toast and poured him some juice before loading his own plate. Their section of the table was extra quiet as they tiredly ate their breakfasts.
Harry glanced up at Snape who was watching them with narrowed, suspicious eyes. Harry knew that Snape noticed the unusually weary group. Looking over to the Slytherin table he caught Blaise’s gaze, who was also watching the group with worried eyes. Harry just gave him a smile, which Blaise returned even though he didn’t look any less worried.
Harry went back to eating his breakfast, first making sure that Draco was doing okay still. They were both startled when Hedwig suddenly landed in front of them.
Draco was looking at her in awe. Harry chuckled. “This is my owl. Her name is Hedwig. Why don’t you give her a piece of your bacon, Draco?” Harry suggested.
Harry untied the letter from her leg then gazed at Draco while he watched in fascination as Hedwig ate the bacon he gave her. “You can pet her if you want,” Harry encouraged.
“Can I?” Draco eagerly asked.
“Sure, she likes being petted,” Harry said with a smile, and watched as Draco tentatively reached out to pet her. Hedwig preened and seemed to take to the little boy. Soon, Harry shooed her off, sending her back to the owlery, promising Draco that he would take Draco to see her at some point and show him the rest of the owls. He instructed Draco to finish his breakfast and Draco eagerly tucked back in with new enthusiasm. Harry smiled, watching him for a moment, then turned his attention to the letter he’d actually received.
“Who’s it from?” Hermione asked curiously.
“Snape,” Harry answered absently, as he was still reading.
“You’re sure getting friendly with the greasy git,” Ron commented with a grimace.
Harry glared and gave a pointed look in Draco’s direction, who luckily hadn’t heard the insult to his godfather.
