Sea of Waking Dreams

Sea of Waking Dreams

By Cinnamon

Chapter Three

Hermione, Ron, and Draco walked to Dumbledore’s office together without speaking. Dumbledore was bent over his desk, mumbling to himself and reading from a large book when they stepped into the room, and he glanced up with a tired smile on his lips. 'I've got some news,' he said, 'about the little girl you found at Hogwarts.'

'What was she doing there anyway?' Hermione asked. 'She can't be more than six, too young to have been a student.'

Dumbledore sighed. 'I cannot answer that, I suspect she is the only one who can. I can, however, explain to you how she escaped the detection of the Dementors. I had thought that perhaps the mark on her was a coincidence, that the myths were just that: myth. But I have researched it, and it appears as if this legend is in fact based in reality.'

'Must you really be so cryptic?' Draco asked caustically. 'Just tell us already.'

Dumbledore smiled. 'There is a legend of a very rare magical gift that only two other witches in history have ever had. The first, Rowena Ravenclaw, one of the founders of Hogwarts, should have been the only one. No one knows how she came to possess this rare talent. It is not passed through heredity, the bearer of the gift must bestow it on another, and no one knows who it was who gave the gift to Rowena. She only gave the gift to one other, as far as legend goes, and that witch died before she got the chance to give it to any other, so it was assumed that the gift died in her. This other witch's name was Peralan Evin, but you would know her better as The Grey Lady.'

'The ghost of Ravenclaw?' Hermione asked.

Dumbledore nodded. 'Yes. Peralan and Rowena were the first and only known Empaths. Empathy is a form of magic in which the bearer of the gift is able to feel past emotion, almost as if it were a memory, and sometimes even channel it into another person. Emotion, like anything, is an energy form, and all expended energy leaves a mark. The stronger the emotion, the stronger the mark it leaves behind. Hate and love are generally the easiest to channel. Empathy is a strong magic, it can work just as easily at a distance as close up. As long as there is or was strong emotion, the Empath can feed off of that.'

'But how do you know that Lucky is one of these?' Ron asked. 'Didn't you say that Rowena and The Grey Lady were the only ones?'

'There is a mark,' Dumbledore told them. 'Rowena herself had it, though no one knows who gave it to her. When the gift of Empathy is bestowed upon another, it leaves a dusty rose coloured mark on their cheek, so that the bearer of the gift is marked as if she had been kissed on the cheek. Lucky bears that mark.'

'She does not,' Draco argued. 'I would have seen it.'

'It was covered by the dirt on her face,' Dumbledore said with a smile. 'I only saw it because I knew where to look. You cannot tell me strange things did not start to happen the instant you came close to the girl.'

Hermione's eyes widened. 'Wait, you mean when she projects things, she actually makes other people feel them?'

'And love,' Draco said quietly, shooting her a strange look as he remembered the alien emotions he'd felt for her in the ruins when he'd kissed her, 'is one of the strongest emotions of all.'

'Precisely.' Dumbledore smiled again. 'Love and hate.'

'But Lavender claimed the treasure from the Hogwarts ruins would save Harry's life,' Ron argued. 'How is love or hate going to help him?'

'If we can help her to get her wild power under control, aside from cutting down on the number of strange snogging incidents, we will be able to help her to choose what she channels. Emotion springs from the soul, and love or hate connects one soul to another. Harry's soul has been forced from his body through magic, but it still lingers somewhere inside his mind, in another plane, a plane of dreams. Lucky has the ability, if we harness it, to follow the link between his body and his soul and reach the core of his emotion, which is his soul. She will be able to send another soul through this link to speak with him, perhaps to draw him back into the land of reality.'

'We can bring him back?' Hermione breathed. Draco didn't say anything, though his eyes burned with cold, angry fires, and Ron was grinning lopsidedly.

'We may be able to, yes,' Dumbledore said with a smile. 'If we can help the child control her power. She has been living in the ruins for days, we do not know how long, and it would take a huge amount of trust for her to allow us to tame her wild magic, and she has learned not to trust. But with time and patience, yes, I believe we may be able to reach him.'

'How much time? I need him,' Hermione whispered. Her hands were trembling. It had been nearly two weeks since the battle with a band of Dementors that had left Harry unconscious, his soul weak. One of the Dementors had been performing a Dementor's Kiss on him and the only reason there was any hope at all was that Draco had come upon them and driven the Dementor away. He had carried Harry's body back to the castle and they had been looking for a cure for his strange coma ever since. Even now, the Death Eaters and Dementors gained power, and without Harry Potter on their side, they had no chance at winning this war.

And Harry was showing no sign of waking up any time soon.

****

It was early afternoon, and Ginny had just finished giving the children lunch. Now, Belle and the two other older children, Miles, who was 10, and Iniko, who was 8, were working on the lessons Ginny had prepared. Keela, who was six years old, was sitting in the corner with Lucky, chatting happily, not seeming to mind that the other little girl rarely spoke at all, and Ginny was busy trying to rock the youngest child to sleep. Not even a year old, the baby had been found near the castle, alone in a small cabin and crying in his bassinet. The parents had never returned, and Ginny had taken the baby, named him Axel, which meant baby of peace, and had sworn always to keep looking for his real parents. It wasn't likely they were still alive, however, just like the rest of the families of the children she cared for.

Axel finally drifted off to sleep, which she knew wouldn't last very long. He rarely slept for more than an hour at a time.

She gently put him in his cradle and then turned to check on Belle and the others doing lessons. A strange, high-pitched wail from the corner drew her attention, and she spun towards where she had last seen Lucky and Keela.

Lucky was the one screaming, and Keela was standing before her with a twisted, hateful sneer on her face. Her lips were moving and she was hissing something that Ginny couldn't hear.

'Make her stop,' Lucky whimpered, flinching away. 'I didn't mean to.'

The baby started screaming again and Ginny clapped her hands over her ears, hurrying first to Lucky and Keela. She heard Belle pick up the infant and start to sing to him softly.

'Keela,' Ginny said quietly, kneeling before the little girl, who was spitting out hateful curse words that even Ginny had never heard before. Ginny grabbed her by the arms, shaking her a little, and Lucky kept screaming. 'Keela!' Ginny cried, pushing the little girl's fine blonde hair back and stroking her face, trying to calm her. Keela's blue eyes were vacant and she kept cursing.

Lucky's screams stopped abruptly and she stepped forward, her tiny hand resting on Ginny's shoulder as she leaned towards Keela. 'I thought you said you were going to be my friend,' she whimpered.

Keela's mouth snapped shut and her eyes widened in confusion. She looked first at Lucky, whose face was streaked with tears, and then at Ginny. A moment later, she started to cry. 'I didn't mean to say bad words!' she wailed. Ginny gathered her up and soothed her, and Lucky shrunk away, watching with huge, horrified eyes, as if she were terrified of being punished. Ginny didn't even understand what was happening, and she certainly wasn't going to punish Lucky for it.

The baby was still crying.

The door flew open and Draco was there, wearing all black, as was his custom. His eyes quickly took in the two older boys, trying their hardest not to look scared, Belle cradling the screaming baby, Ginny holding the sobbing little girl, and Lucky trying to make herself as small as possible in the corner. His face softened the tiniest bit.

He didn't say a word to Ginny to explain why he was there, but she decided he must have heard the screaming and come to investigate. Belle looked terrified of him, and Ginny herself was a little nervous around him, though she tried her best not to show it.

'Lucky,' he called, his voice as hard and cold as it usually was. Lucky was the only one who didn't look terrified. 'Come here, it's all right.'

She took off running towards him and Ginny watched in shock. The children all avoided Draco out of terror, he had no patience for them. Draco picked her up easily and said a few quiet things to her, and she nodded, a tiny, shy smile on her lips. He smiled back at her, and Ginny was even more shocked. She hadn't seen him smile since the fall of Hogwarts, when he had first come to live in the castle. He put Lucky back down and with one condescending look at Ginny, he spun around and left just as quickly as he had come.

Lucky, much calmer now, wandered over to where Ginny kept the building blocks, and started playing with them. A few moments later, Keela squirmed to get away and go play as well, and Ginny let her go, still confused.

The baby was asleep again and Belle returned to her studies. It was like nothing had happened, and only Ginny was left wondering what exactly was going on.

****

Dumbledore stood at the window of his office, staring out the window thoughtfully. He could see down into the inner courtyard, and Ginny had brought the orphans out into the snow to play. He couldn't hear them, but if he closed his eyes, he could distantly recall the sound of children laughing, and he imagined that was what it would sound like. He smiled softly, remembering when such a sound seemed an everyday occurrence, not something so rare.

He watched Ginny for a moment, how gentle she was with the children, how happy she seemed, and again, he was reassured that he had made the right choice, appointing her as guardian to the children. There were many evils of war that he knew Ginny had to be sheltered from, and she didn't seem to mind always being left in the castle to take care of the orphans.

It wasn't easy, leading the side of good in such terrible times. The Death Eaters' ranks swelled with supporters, Voldemort gained strength even now, and the side of good huddled in a castle on the icy cliffs of northern Scotland, hiding. But what, really, was there to do? Voldemort's forces were too strong, and with Harry ill and the Ministry, which had come crawling to Dumbledore for sanctuary at the beginning of the war, falling apart, what really could Dumbledore do?

He scanned the parchment that had just been delivered to him quickly, a worried frown twisting his lips. Madam Rosmerta had sent it from Hogsmeade, where her tavern was still open, serving the Death Eaters butterbeer and fire whiskey. Rosmerta was in a perfect position to pass on information on the enemy to him. But the information she had sent was not encouraging.

The Death Eaters were planning to sweep north, and lay siege to Seandrar Castle.

There was a knock on the door, and Dumbledore quickly tossed the parchment into a drawer and smoothed his face into a smile. 'Enter,' he called.

Remus Lupin stepped into the room. 'Any news?' he asked.

Dumbledore's smile dropped away into more solemn lines and he sighed, picking up the parchment and handing it to Lupin. 'Not good,' he said.

Lupin closed the door behind him, sitting in the chair and reading the letter quickly. When he looked up, his face had gone very pale. 'They're coming here? But what of the scouts? Have they returned? Maybe if we attack and weaken their ranks before they —'

'They are too strong,' Dumbledore said gently. 'The scouts returned this morning.'

'And the giants?'

'Hagrid is still working on diplomatic relations with them, there is a chance they will join with us.'

Lupin swallowed, running a trembling hand through his hair. 'And Harry? Any change?'

Finally, Dumbledore smiled. 'I have good news there,' he said. 'We may have come across some magic that may reach him. Time will tell, of course. But I am hopeful.'

'At least there is that,' Lupin said darkly. 'He may be awake when the end comes.'

'Lupin, you of all people should know that there is always hope.'

'I suppose,' sighed Lupin. 'But we must begin to prepare for a siege. There are so many people living in this castle, we must begin stock-piling supplies.'

'I will put you in charge of that, Lupin. Do whatever you deem necessary.'

Lupin nodded once and left the room quickly. Turning back to the window, Dumbledore watched the children play, lost in thought.

****

Draco was walking along the parapets of the castle on the north wall, which rose along the cliffs, the black sea crashing far below. The wind was frigid and whipped at his black cloak, stinging his face, but Draco didn't feel it. He rarely felt anything anymore, really, just as he rarely laughed or smiled. It was a waste of energy, especially when there was so much already draining him. Memories took a lot of energy, particularly his memories.

Scowling fiercely, Draco stopped walking and rested his fists against the icy stone, leaning against the wind. The burning cold blasted at his face, making his eyes sting, and he welcomed the pain as it drove the memories away. He stood that way for a long time, until the pain that had risen up into his throat had been drained away and replaced by numb cold.

That's when Hermione spoke from the sheltered shadows of the northeastern turret. 'Draco,' she called. 'Aren't you cold?'

His head snapped around to face her, burning fury in his eyes that was quickly replaced by dark emptiness. He walked out of the wind and into the shadows of the turret. 'What are you doing here?' he said gruffly. 'You'll freeze.'

'I saw you from the courtyard,' she said, looking pale and half frozen. 'I was worried. You're always up here, all by yourself, and I just wanted to know if you were all right.'

'Of course I'm all right,' he snapped. 'I'm always all right.'

Hermione scowled. 'You don't have to lie to me.'

'And you don't have to waste your time with me.'

With that, he turned and walked into the tower, leaving Hermione standing on the windswept parapets alone.

He didn't know where he was going, only that he was furious at Hermione for disturbing him. He ran right into Ginny, who was leading the children back in from the courtyard. She stumbled back and smiled a little. 'Oh, sorry, didn't see you,' she said breathlessly. 'So sorry.' She hurried past, the line of little children following her like ducklings, and Draco started mumbling angrily to himself as he continued on his way. Somehow, however, his anger wasn't as hot. Maybe it was because of the way Lucky had smiled shyly and waved at him as she walked by.

The snow that had landed on his hair and clothing began to melt the deeper into the warm castle he moved, and streams of water ran down his cloak, leaving droplets all over the floor. Filch, who had taken refuge in the castle as well and appointed himself janitor, was likely to be furious, but Draco did not particularly care. He stalked into the hospital wing and threw open the door to Harry's room. It slammed against the inner wall, and Sirius Black, who had been pacing the room anxiously, spun towards the sound.

'What are you doing here, Malfoy?' he growled.

Draco smiled tightly at him. 'Came to pay Potter a visit.'

'Get out. Harry doesn't want to see you.'

'You've forgotten,' Draco snarled. 'Without me, Precious Potter wouldn't be alive at all, so I would've thought you'd be a bit more thankful.'

'I don't trust Death Eaters,' Sirius hissed, 'Even ones who claim to have reformed.'

Draco rolled his eyes. 'Get out,' he said in a bored tone, 'So I can visit Potter in peace.'

Sirius looked like he wanted to attack him, but he visibly restrained himself. 'If you hurt him, Malfoy, I'll kill you, I swear I will.' He stalked from the room, slamming the door behind him, and Draco waited until his footsteps had faded into the distance before he let his shoulders slump. 'Insufferably arrogant,' he said to Harry. 'Don't know how you put up with that git.'

Harry, of course, did not reply. He was lying on his back with his arms at his sides, his head on a pillow, his dark hair dull and limp, not at all the wild mess it had always been before. His glasses were folded up and resting on the table within easy reach, as if they expected him to wake up at any moment and reach for them, and his eyes were closed. He was breathing shallow and very weak.

Draco tilted his head a little and inspected Harry's face for a moment before saying abruptly. 'I'm sick of keeping your little secret, Potter.' He began to pace the room, his face tight with rage, water droplets dripping onto the floor from his cloak. 'I guess it's lucky for you that you were caught by that Dementor, really, because now I'm the one who has to lie to Hermione to keep your stupid secret. Why I bothered to save your worthless life, I don't even know. Maybe your stupid sense of justice is rubbing off on me, but honestly, if you really did believe all that justice and honour shit you're always going on about, you wouldn't have put me in this position to begin with.'

Soft breathing was the only reply, which infuriated Draco even more.

'Wake up and deal with this already!' he shouted. 'I don't like you, but even I can see how things are falling apart here without you. No one thinks we've got a chance at winning this war, all because Harry Potter decided he's too afraid to open his bloody eyes and move around a bit? It's ridiculous and just like you to put everything in jeopardy because you're so damned ashamed of yourself and scared to face reality. It's disgusting. I always knew you were a coward, but I was the only one to see it. If by proving me right, you destroy everything we've been working for, then I'd rather you just kept right on pretending to be a bloody hero!'

He waited for a reply, but of course Harry's lips didn't move, and, frustrated, Draco stalked to the window, staring out at the ocean stretching off into the distance. A winter storm was brewing on the horizon, and clouds that were the colour of coal were gathering.

He turned around again, an odd note of pleading in his voice. 'Just wake up, Potter, so we can win this war and I can go home and try to forget it ever happened.'

He approached Harry's bed, narrowing his eyes and studying the lightning bolt scar on his forehead. 'Run from your scars if you want,' he growled, 'but some people have scars that they can't run from.' He reached up and traced the scar with his nail.

The door opened again and Ron stepped into the room, stumbling to a surprised stop when he saw Draco there, touching Harry's forehead.

'What are you doing in here?' Ron asked, no malice in his tone, only weary curiosity.

'Not snogging him, if that's what you think,' Draco snapped back.

Ron squirmed uncomfortably. 'All right, I'm sorry for assuming that you kissed me on purpose in the forest,' he said.

'You kissed me.'

Waving his hand in dismissal, Ron said, 'Either way, it was just a spell, like Dumbledore said. Forget it.'

'Oh, don't worry, Weasley,' Draco said silkily over his shoulder as he walked out of the room. 'I already have. I only wonder if you ever will.' He left quickly, and Ron watched him go, scowling.