Angel Eyes

Angel Eyes

~Part Two~

When Draco woke again, he found himself in a different place to where he had fallen asleep. It shouldn't have been alarming, because after all it had happened to him before. At the age of four, Draco had already grown used to Christmas whereas with most children it took thirteen-ish years to stop waking up the whole household at five in the morning. Draco exercised the same rule with all experiences, including girls; been there, done that, why bother again?

But this time he opened his eyes and screamed.

Scarlet. Gold. Draco found himself trapped in the midst of his worst nightmare.

Dying hadn't been so bad. This was worse.

He was sitting in the Gryffindor common room.

And judging by the way no one had noticed, he must be well and truly dead because nobody in their right mind would ignore Draco Malfoy while he was still alive.

If Draco hadn't been certain that weirder things had happened before (Potter finding a date to the Yule Ball, for example), he would have really lost it. But after the initial shock had subsided along with his manly er...cries of outrage, ahem, Draco stood to observe his surroundings with a disdainful eye.

The fire was crackling merrily, and he reasoned that it must be relatively late at night because only a few Gryffindors remained lounging on comfortable chairs either reading or talking to each other quietly. It was warm and cosy in this place, quiet laughter added to the relaxed and soothing atmosphere of the room.

Draco was disgusted.

He was saved from the altogether unpleasant act of throwing up as a hole opened up to his right and Harry Potter entered Gryffindor tower.

On second thought, perhaps he might gag yet.

The Boy-Who-Lived-Unlike-Draco came and stood beside him unknowingly. Draco recoiled, backing away when a voice coming from behind caused him to start.

'Woof!'

'What the fuck?' said Draco. 'It's a grim...'

The huge black dog bared all its shiny, sharp teeth and gave a low, menacing growl.

'I'm already dead, you dumb beast!' he told it ferociously. 'You're a bit late!'

'Grr...' said the dog evilly.

Draco wondered why no one else had noticed such a terrifying omen of death in the corner. Of course, if this had been the Slytherin common room people wouldn't think much of it, but these were Gryffindors. Surely some of the first years should have fainted by now.

Draco wasn't stupid, he'd figured it out the next moment. 'I get it. So you're a ghost, too? Wait...but you can't be; wizards can see ghosts...Er, you're a divine canine, then. Or something.'

The dog cocked his head to one side and looked at him knowingly, like it was all superior or whatever.

'And your name is Sirius?' said Draco suddenly. 'Ack! How did you do that?'

The dog panted; it seemed to be laughing at him. You've a lot to learn yet, you little prat.

'No,' Draco retorted. 'One of the good things about not being alive is that I don't have to learn. No more school ever, so hah!'

Have it your way.

'I will,' Draco told him.

Obviously you don't need my help then.

'Wait...I don't know what to do. You're supposed to tell me, aren't you?'

Asking for help is learning.

'What is this?' Draco sneered. 'A story with a moral?'

Yes, yes it is.

'Well, I have news for you. Malfoys don't have morals.'

I'm not going to argue with you. I'm right, you're not, let's stop wasting time.

'I have all the time in the world, don't I?'

Sirius shrugged, if dogs could shrug-it certainly looked that way-and said, 'maybe you do, but she doesn't.'

'Who?'

The dog padded around him and across the room, he followed and watched as Sirius lay down before the fireplace next to a girl who was gazing into the flames. Draco remembered her well, the Bat Bogey Bitch. Honestly, out of all the girls in Hogwarts he had to end up with...but at least it hadn't been Potter, right?

Pretty, isn't she?

'You're a dog, how would you know,' scoffed Draco. 'Maybe. Not really, unless you like redheads, which I definitely don't.'

...cold, hate when it's cold...why doesn't anyone else feel it?

As he moved closer, Draco was shocked to discover he could hear what Ginny was thinking.

...wonder where Harry's come from...

'Oh, she's thinking about Potter, how predictable,' he drawled.

...not like they ever tell me anything, anyway...

Draco looked questioningly at Sirius. Just listen, he said.

'What use is that?'

You'd be surprised.

'Like I haven't been surprised enough in one day.'

...but I know

...

'Because I care so much,' said Draco in a bored voice.

...Ron and Hermione are on prefect duty, that's right. I wonder when they're going to tell Harry that prefect duty actually involves snogging in empty classrooms...

Draco shuddered. 'So didn't need to know that, Weasley!'

...Parvati's looking at him; how obvious. Bet she doesn't know Harry keeps photos of Draco Malfoy under his pillow, or she wouldn't be staring like that...

'WHAT?' yelled Draco, hyperventilating. Sirius raised his head curiously.

...well, not really. If only he did, how funny would that be...

'NOT FUNNY AT ALL, WEASLEY!' spluttered Draco, clutching the nearest chair for support. 'You are a girl with a sick, sick, twisted sense of humour!'

...Daily Prophet really would have a field day...

'Shut up, shut up!'

Calm down. She didn't mean it, idiot, ordered Sirius.

Ginny yawned, and stood up, stretching.

'Going to bed?' asked Harry.

'Mm, I think sooooo...' Ginny yawned again.

'Good. You should get some sleep.'

'How do you know I can't sleep?' she inquired suspiciously.

'Bags under your eyes,' Harry smiled gently. 'Night, Gin.'

'Goodnight Harry.'

Draco would have mimed puking on the rug if that hadn't been the kind of thing Crabbe might find funny.

A few of the other girls were already in their beds as Ginny slid into her own. Draco watched her fall asleep, and felt like he shouldn't be there, which was true. It was all wrong. He belonged in his own bed in the Slytherin dungeons, or maybe in Blaise's bed in the Slytherin dungeons....Not in Gryffindor tower, listening to Weasley's breathing slow and seeing her hands curl into fists on her pillow.

It was disturbingly calming, and before long Draco's eyelids fluttered closed.

*

He awoke for the third time in an unfamiliar place. He heard waves, dark and lapping on the sand. Another beach, but instead of day time this was before dawn. Light was just beginning to appear on edge of the horizon and the stars could still be seen shining in the near-morning sky.

'Where are we?'

Draco turned and saw Ginny looking out to sea, her copper hair dancing in the breeze. He looked further around him and realised that this wasn't an unfamiliar place at all.

'This is the beach near Malfoy estate,' he said, astonished. 'We spent nearly all my holidays here when I was younger.'

'Really?' asked Ginny. 'I've never been to a beach before.'

'Never?'

'Not in real life. So I guess this doesn't count either.'

'Why not?'

'Well, this is a dream, isn't it?'

'I don't know...' said Draco.

'What are we doing here?'

'I'm not sure.'

'Malfoy,' said Ginny sternly, facing him fully. 'How did you get into my dream?'

'I'm dead,' Draco told her.

'A great pity,' Ginny observed dryly.

'Sirius was right, I think...'

'Sirius? But he's gone...What was he right about?'

'You are quite pretty. If one were to like redheads.'

'But you don't,' said Ginny.

'No,' agreed Draco. 'I don't.'

'Ah. Now I really believe you're dead.'

'Why is that?'

'Because you wouldn't ever compliment me while you were still alive.'

Draco laughed. 'You're absolutely right.'

'I always am. Just not everybody sees it that way.'

'I know what you mean.'

'Do you?'

'Something strange has happened to me,' Draco told her suddenly, feeling quite afraid.

'We're having a civil conversation, that's very strange indeed. Then again, I am dreaming.'

'I died,' said Draco. 'I died, and I was turned into an angel and now I'm influencing your dreams.'

'You? Draco Malfoy? An angel?' exclaimed Ginny incredulously. 'But you're like...evil, and all that!'

'That's what I said!'

'Well at least we agree on something; you're a horrible git.'

'Thank Merlin some things never change,' said Draco.

*

Draco learnt a few things about Ginny Weasley the next day. Little things, really, that he otherwise wouldn't bother noticing about a person. For instance, he watched at breakfast as Ginny discreetly transfigured every goblet of pumpkin juice into orange before drinking it. He'd never met a wizard who hated pumpkin juice that much.

When Ginny was bored in History of Magic, she began to link the freckles on her arm with her quill, then preceded to rub the marks off. Inky fingers stained all her parchment with smudges like small, black moons. He watched her twist fiery, silken strands into a loose plait to keep the hair out of her face while having lunch outside by the lake with her friends.

The whole time he stayed close enough to her to notice a faint scent of apples on her skin.

It was very, very disturbing. Draco didn't like it one bit.

'I had this really weird dream last night,' Ginny was saying, lying on her back and staring up at the sky. 'Malfoy was in it.'

The blonde girl picking petals off daisies sitting next to Ginny asked, 'Was it a sex dream?'

Ginny sat up in horror and a brunette to her right exclaimed, 'Luna!'

'Firstly, why would I tell you?' said Ginny, 'and secondly...'

'I was fantastic?' suggested Draco.

'...ew, no! Not in a million years,' finished Ginny disgustedly.

'Hey!' cried Draco, outraged. 'I wouldn't touch you with broomstick, Weasley, not even in your dreams!'

Then I wouldn't sit so close to her, if I were you.

'Fuck off, Sirius,' scowled Draco as the big dog approached, panting in that laughing way again.

'That's a terrible imagination you've got, Luna,' said the brunette, shaking her head.

Luna shrugged. 'I know you were all thinking it, anyway. So what was it really about, Ginny?'

'We were just on this beach-'

'How romantic,' giggled a Hufflepuff, as both Draco and Ginny glared at her.

'Never mind,' Ginny muttered, more to herself than anyone else. 'Forget it.'

Draco wasn't sure whether he could, the dream was just as much of a mystery to him. Sirius didn't bother explaining it clearly. Sometimes we just end up in their dreams, he said, unconcerned. Don't stress about it.

At dinner, they sat together between Seamus Finnegan and Granger, Potter and Weasley. They seemed at times to Draco like one person instead of three. Draco remembered how he sometimes thought of Crabbe and Goyle as one, but they never gave the impression of being in their own private world. For a moment Draco forgot to watch Ginny, and instead marvelled at the way they were unconsciously aware of each others' movements, like a complicated dance made to look easy. It made him uneasy, and he went back to observing Ginny picking at her peas, eating the only the carrots and mashed potato around them.

All night he avoided looking at the Slytherin end of the hall, in case the empty space at the head of the table made him ill.

When Ginny went to take her shower, Draco waited outside with Sirius.

'I still don't understand what I'm supposed to be doing here,' he complained. 'Or why you're here, Sirius. You're not any help at all.'

You'll figure it out, eventually.

'How long will eventually take?'

Sirius lifted his head, as if sniffing the air. Not too long.

Ginny reappeared, dressed and dried.

'What?' cried Draco. 'That was only fifteen minutes! Are you sure you're clean, Weasley?'

Just because you used to take three hours in the bathroom doesn't mean everyone else needs to, Sirius pointed out.

'Hey...where is she going? That's not the way to Gryffindor tower...'

Come on.

Sirius stood up suddenly to follow.

'Why can't we just sit down,' whined Draco.

You've been sitting around all day. Now move quicker.

'Don't talk to me,' he retorted. 'You're a dog, you have four legs. Dammit Weasley, stop walking so bloody fast. It's not like there's a bloody fire.' Draco pondered for a split second before adding, 'except the one on your head, of course.'

I was wondering when you were going to start up with the insults, mused Sirius. It's been a whole day.

'What do you mean?' cried Draco, affronted. 'I am insulting 24/7! I am a verbal fountain of abuse!'

Verbal fountain of abuse my ass.

'No thanks,' sniggered Draco. 'It's wrong on so many levels, Sirius. Firstly, that would be bestiality and necrophilia at the same time-'

Grow up, Draco.

'I'm dead, how much more growing can I possibly do?'

They reached a corridor Draco remembered from the year before; he recalled waiting to catch Potter behind that dragon vase...

Ginny stopped in front of a highly polished door, tapped her wand to the handle twice and whispered a password. The door swung open to reveal a large room filled with students sitting on big silk cushions on the floor.

'You're late,' accused Granger from the front where she is standing, a long roll of parchment in her hands.

'What are you talking about?' remarked a blond Hufflepuff boy to Ginny's right, 'she's only ten minutes late; that's an early record for Ginny.'

'You've been keeping count, Zacharias?' asked Ginny in a sweet voice. 'I didn't know you cared so much.'

'Well, he does fancy you Ginny,' piped up Parvati Patil.

'You WHAT my sister?' cried Ron.

'I don't fancy her!' spat Zacharias. Draco, watching the boy grow visibly paler, rather thought he did.

'We all know, it's so obvious,' Parvati continued.

'Everyone please just sit down and listen!' hollered Granger, and for once Draco agreed with her.

After that Ginny took her seat and the students were quiet as Potter gave them all instructions and everyone split up into partners.

This is the DA,

explained Sirius. They're practising for the war.

'Like training?' asked Draco. 'Building up an army against the Dark Lord? Is that what they're doing?'

It's not really an army. They're teaching students how to defend themselves. explained Sirius. These are the leaders, the original group. They're planning to recruit more members. The headmaster has given permission for them to use the Great Hall and other areas of the grounds, teachers will be helping out.

'But these aren't defensive spells,' Draco pointed out, spotting some hexes he'd never seen before and wished he'd known about in his lifetime. 'They're learning how to attack.'

They might have to fight to defend the castle.

'How many people are going to join?'

They need nearly all of the senior school to take part if they want a chance of surviving.

Draco scoffed. 'They'll never get the Slytherins on their side.'

Indeed. That is a problem.

'Why are you showing me this?' asked Draco.

I'm not showing you, Draco, said Sirius. She is.

Draco turned and watched Ginny hurling hex after hex at Harry Potter, who was only barely deflecting them all. She was good, incredibly good, he noted. Father had always said the world should be wiped out of all Weasleys. Was that what would happen in the end if Potter's army failed?

*

...no wind, not too cold, no one else is up yet...

Ginny had woken up early the next morning, far too early for Draco's liking and he considered stubbornly remaining curled up in his chair to catch up on sleep. But a few moments after Ginny had left the room, the painful, wrenching feeling in his gut was too much to bear. It appeared that he wasn't allowed to leave her alone. Pissed off, Draco stumbled down the stairs and caught up with her at the portrait hole. Immediately the ache subsided.

Damn, stupid angel rules. How dare they tear him away from his precious slumber! Sleeping was one of Draco's top favourite activities, along with eating, primping, and tripping up snotty second years. Being dead was a right bitch, that was for sure.

As they made their way to wherever they were going, Draco compiled a mental list of all the crappy things about death.

One, having to stay in the same tower as Harry Potter.

Two, mocking people and having them ignore you.

Three, serious lack of wings. Honestly, what was the use of being an angel when you couldn't fly?

Then there was a list of things he missed about being alive:

Coffee, the thing he most desperately needed right now.

Big, dumb minions to boss around.

His own bed, because there was no way in hell he was sharing Weasley's.

As they reached the broom shed Draco added Quidditch to the list of things he missed. It was musky, almost dark in the shed with weak shafts of early light filtering through the gaps in the wood. Ginny walked over to the Gryffindor team corner and found her Cleansweep.

'That's pathetic, Weasley,' Draco commented.

Ginny sighed...it's almost falling apart...

Draco walked over to the Slytherin end of the shed where the all the broomsticks gleamed, effortlessly superior. He ran a hand longingly over his brand new Nimbus 2002.

'Hey Weasley, I have an idea.'

...but I couldn't...

'Just take it,' said Draco irritably. 'Before I change my mind.'

...maybe just one lap around the pitch...

'Go on, hurry up then,' he urged.

...no one would ever know, right?

'Well, I would. But it's not like I could tell anybody anyway.'

Ginny put her Cleansweep carefully back and quickly picked up Draco's Nimbus.

'If someone finds out about this, I'm so dead,' Ginny speculated to herself, entering the Quidditch pitch.

'Don't worry Weasley, it isn't all that bad,' Draco replied. 'No, I'm lying. It's the worst possible thing that could ever happen to you.'

Draco wasn't sure what possessed him to climb on the Nimbus behind Ginny before she kicked off from the ground, but as they rose into the air he forgot to think about it. He'd never been on a broomstick that he didn't have complete control over before, but Ginny was a good flier. They soared effortlessly, and by the end of it Draco was happier than he'd been in a while, and rather impressed.

The feeling didn't last. As they touched back down to earth, Draco was greeted by the sudden appearance of the Slytherin Quidditch team. He'd completely forgotten about Tuesday morning practices.

For the first time ever, Draco wasn't glad to see Blaise Zabini in her unnecessarily revealing, low-cut Chasers' uniform.

Okay, so a little bit glad, because hell, who wouldn't love to see that? But he was also extremely apprehensive about the whole thing.

'Weasley...' Blaise purred in the kind of voice that makes you want to run. Fast.

'Alright, Weasley,' said Draco nervously. 'Let's get back on my broom and fly away, shall we? They don't look too happy...'

'Zabini,' answered Ginny.

'Please,' Draco begged. 'Run away, run away! They'll kill you, Weasley, they honestly will...and then what will the Founders say? What am I supposed to do now?'

'You know you're going to have to clear off. We have the pitch booked now,' said Blaise.

'I was just going,' said Ginny, going to leave only to find her way blocked by Crabbe, Goyle and the rest of the Slytherin team.

'That's a very nice broomstick you've got there.'

Ginny said nothing.

'In fact it looks very familiar. Don't you think so too, boys?'

The Slytherin team grunted their assent.

'How dare you...' sneered Blaise. 'You've stooped to stealing from us now, have you?'

'I'm not stealing it,' said Ginny through clenched teeth. 'I would never-'

'The nerve...Get your hands off it! Filth like you aren't fit enough to lick the shit off my boots, Weasley,' Blaise hissed.

'Hey, that's my line, bitch!' cried Draco.

'Get it!' yelled Blaise.

Crabbe and Goyle moved to grab the broom off Ginny, but she was too quick for any of them. It happened in a flash, almost too quick for Draco to see Ginny dodge them and leap aside, whipping out a wand from her robes. A second later, Crabbe and Goyle were howling in alarming pain as Blaise went soaring past them into the stone wall in front of the stands. In a second, the team had cornered Ginny, who was fighting to get away and screaming in rage. Everyone was yelling, including Draco - although no one else could hear him - while Blaise lay unconscious in her own pool of sickening blood.

The next person to arrive on the scene was Snape, roaring, his wand emitting loud blasts like gunshots to get everyone's attention. His face turned chalk white as he caught sight of Blaise in the corner.

'Release her,' barked Snape to the Slytherins.

They all let Ginny go, and she stood and stared at Snape defiantly, bitter and angry tears coursing down her pale cheeks.

'Vincent, Gregory. Summon Madame Pomfrey. Now!'

Crabbe and Goyle immediately disappeared.

'The rest of you,' ordered Snape. 'Practice is cancelled. Go and have your breakfast. Don't speak of this to anyone unless you want me to track you down and rip out your tongues with my bare hands. What are you waiting for? Move it!'

Draco didn't dare breathe as he waited for the next instructions.

'Miss Weasley,' snarled Snape. 'Headmaster's office.'