Draco Malfoy Ginny Weasley
Drama Romance
Multiple Eras
Philosopher's Stone Chamber of Secrets Prizoner of Azkaban Goblet of Fire Quidditch Through the Ages Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them
Published: 08/16/2002
Updated: 12/01/2002
Words: 98,611
Chapters: 18
Hits: 65,644

Sea of Waking Dreams


Story Summary:
Draco Malfoy has seen his share of nightmares and now, as the war with Voldemort rages around him, it takes Ginny Weasley and a ragged band of orphans to teach him what true love and loyalty really are. Draco/Ginny, and a few brief instances of m/m kissing.

Chapter 04

Chapter Summary:
Draco Malfoy has seen his share of nightmares and now, as the war with Voldemort rages around him, it takes Ginny Weasley and a ragged band of orphans to teach him what true love and loyalty really are. Draco/Ginny, and a few brief instances of m/m kissing.

Sea of Waking Dreams

By Cinnamon

Chapter Four

War makes people do strange things. Impulsive things out of passion and fear.

Ginny twisted the wedding ring on her left hand and bit her lip, staring out the window and searching the skies for any sign of an owl. It had been weeks since she had heard from him, and she was worried.

She had started dating Hadley Biton, a Ravenclaw, when when they were both in their fifth year at Hogwarts, and even then, it was only because he vaguely reminded her of Harry. During their last years at Hogwarts, however, he had made her forget all about the infatuation she had had with Harry. She could look into his blue eyes and forget to imagine that they were green. She could run her fingers through his auburn hair and not have to pretend it was black like Harry’s, because there was no one’s hair she would rather be touching. He had become her best friend as well as her boyfriend, and after they left Hogwarts, before Hogwarts was destroyed by the Death Eaters, they had dated while living near each other in London, talking of marriage and families and children. Then Hogwarts fell and the war began in earnest, and Hadley had gone off to fight. The night before he had gone, however, he had asked her to marry him, and they had been married in a secret ceremony.

She hadn’t seen him since and had only the thin gold band as proof that the wedding had happened at all, though she never wore it outside of her bedroom. She had joined the cause herself soon after, though Hadley was off on a secret mission he was unable to explain to her.

Biting her lip worriedly, she scanned the dark, angry skies again. She hadn’t received word from Hadley in a month.

The door creaked open and Ginny slipped the ring off quickly and dropped it into her pocket before turning around. Not even her family knew of her wedding, she had kept her last name. Her mother would cry for months if she knew Ginny had been married without her family there.

Belle peered cautiously into the room, her huge eyes shining with tears. “Ginny,” she called softly. “The baby won’t stop crying and the new girl, Lucky, she’s scared. She says she’s afraid of the dark.” Belle sounded perplexed by this, because most of the orphans had learned that there were more frightening things to be afraid of. “She says there are always monsters under her bed.”

Ginny pushed her worry and her exhaustion away and smiled at the little girl. “Do you believe her?” she asked.

Belle scowled. “No.”

Ginny nodded, smiling again and holding out her hand. Belle took it, looking relieved, and they went to the room across the hall where the children all slept.

The baby was screaming, Lucky was whimpering and cowering on her bed. The two little boys were trying their best to look as though they weren’t just a little nervous, what with the crying baby, the little girl swearing there was a child-eating monster under her bed and the fierce storm outside, and Keela crying softly and peering under her own bed nervously.

Ginny lifted the baby up and held him tightly, whispering to him and rocking him until he was asleep again, before laying him back down and turning to the other children.

“There’s a monster,” Lucky sobbed. “I saw it.”

“There’s no such thing as monsters under the bed,” Iniko said with a scowl.

“I’ll take a look,” Ginny promised Lucky gently. “And if there are any there, I’ll scare them away, I promise.”

“Don’t,” Lucky whimpered. “Don’t look, they’ll get you.”

Ginny ignored her, kneeling beside her bed and lifting up the blanket. Aside from a few dust bunnies, there was nothing under the bed. “Nothing,” she reported, sitting on Lucky’s bed.

Lucky crawled over to her and buried her face in Ginny’s hair. “You can’t see them,” she said. “Only I can.”

“Well then, surely I scared them away,” Ginny said.

“You can’t. Only boys can scare away monsters.” Lucky had stopped crying, but she was still trembling with fear.

Ginny scowled. “That’s not true! I can scare away monsters.”

“She can,” Keela said, nodding. “She scared away all of Iniko’s monsters when he was scared there were monsters in the closet.”

“These ones are big,” Lucky said.

“Well, if Miles scares them away, would that be okay?” Ginny asked hopefully.

Now, Lucky’s voice was full of scorn. “He’s too small, he’ll be eaten! Monsters like little boys.”

Ginny stood up, her hands on her hips. “Lucky, there’s no monster under your bed.”

Lucky started to cry again. “You don’t believe me?”

“Oh, bother,” Ginny mumbled to herself. “All right, Lucky, I believe you. There is a monster under your bed and only a full-grown boy will scare him away. But if I find one and force him to come here and scare away your monster, the monster will never come back. Right?”

Lucky nodded, and Ginny sighed. “Belle, watch the children for a moment, all right? I’ll go find one of my brothers.”

Belle smiled a little at Ginny’s exasperated tone and nodded, and Ginny left the room, still frustrated, her own exhaustion and worry over Hadley making everything worse. On top of that, storms made her nervous, and an icy blizzard was pounding the castle.

It was the middle of the night and she was hoping fervently that one of her brothers would be awake as she hurried through the dark halls of the castle, her bare feet cold on the stone below. She hadn’t even thought to grab her slippers.

She rounded a corner and ran straight into Draco, the force of it causing her to stumble back and nearly fall. Draco growled at her as she tried to catch her balance.

“That’s the second time today,” he snapped.

Her brown eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “Draco,” she said. “You’re a man.”

He smirked. “Lonely, are you?”

“Oh, shut up,” she said, irritated. “You can scare the monsters under the bed away.”

Draco didn’t know why he let her pull him down the hall into the north wing where she and her ridiculous band of orphans lived, but sure enough, a few moments later, he was being tugged into a small room crammed with little cots and little children. All of the children except Lucky looked terrified at his presence and his smirk was just a little bitter.

“There’s a monster under that bed,” Ginny declared, pointing to Lucky’s bed.

Draco scowled. “There’s no such thing —”

She spun around and jabbed his chest with one finger, eyes narrowed. “Don’t,” she hissed. “Just pretend to scare the bloody thing away.”

“Whatever you and these brats are playing, I don’t want to play along,” he replied back, turning to leave.

“She’s crying,” Ginny whispered. “You’re the one who’s all protective of her, make her stop. If crawling around and poking at dust bunnies is what it takes, then do it.”

Draco stalked over to Lucky’s bed, falling to his knees and tearing the edge of the blanket up. There was, of course, nothing there. Shooting Ginny a scathing look and standing up, he said curtly. “Happy? Nothing there.”

“He scared it away,” Ginny said smoothly. She smiled brightly at Lucky, who had crawled out from under her blanket and put one arm around Draco’s knee. Draco looked uncomfortable, and Ginny smiled a little, hurrying forward to pull Lucky away before Draco could say anything to her to make her start crying again. “Time to sleep then,” she said to the children. “Or would you like me to tell you a story?” They chose the story, of course, and even though it was very late, Ginny indulged them, knowing that with the wild storm outside, they wouldn’t fall asleep for a while yet. She conjured up a plate of cookies and some glasses of milk, and all the children climbed onto Lucky’s bed, cuddling up as close to Ginny as they could get.

She was about to start telling them a story when she realized that Draco was still standing by the bed, watching all the children with a disgusted sort of morbid fascination.

“You can stay if you like,” she offered, something in his expression calling to her the way a frightened little child did.

Draco scowled darkly and was about to snap something and stalk off in a swirl of his black cloak when Lucky reached out and tucked her hand into his, pulling him onto the bed. He looked startled, but that was nothing to his expression when Lucky climbed onto his lap and Iniko snuggled up beside him. He shot Ginny an accusing look, as if she was to blame, but didn’t push the children away, and with a slightly smug smile, Ginny began telling them all a wild fairy tale about a princess named Vipera who ran away from home and married an ogre.

The children were asleep before she finished, which was what she intended, and Ginny carefully untangled herself from them, leaving them all curled up on the same bed, before lifting Lucky off of Draco and laying her with the others. She helped him get away from Iniko, who had wrapped his arms around Draco’s waist.

Draco was still scowling and Ginny had to fight the urge to laugh at him as he swept out of the room. She rolled her eyes and checked on the baby quickly before blowing out the candle and stepping into the hall.

Draco was waiting there, and she jumped a little when he spoke suddenly from the shadows. “Next time you have a problem with them, don’t expect me to help,” he said scathingly.

She smiled sweetly at him though she was sure he couldn’t see it in the darkness. “Sorry. If you hadn’t been skulking about the castle this late, I wouldn’t have even considered it. Where were you going anyway?” She waited for him to snap something back and walk away, but he didn’t.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he said simply. “I was going to walk on the parapets.”

“You do that a lot.”

“I like it.”

“It’s very lonely up there.”

He didn’t reply for a moment, and Ginny wondered if that was why he liked it so much. Finally, he said, “Just because you’ve always got those brats around and never have to be lonely doesn’t mean the rest of us are so lucky.”

Ginny shrugged. “Don’t think I don’t know about loneliness. It’s possible to be lonely even when surrounded by thousands of people. And you’re welcome to stop in and visit the children any time you want, they seem to have begun to like you.”

Draco scoffed and walked away abruptly, and Ginny mumbled angrily to herself as she entered her own room. “You can’t heal everyone, especially those who would rather wallow in self pity.”


Draco was helping Lupin train the younger witches and wizards to perform the Patronus charm the next morning when Dumbledore went to find him. The wizards they were training weren’t more than sixteen years old at the most, and they were the few survivors of the students who had been at Hogwarts when the castle fell. It would be easy, in the future, to tell their generation apart from the others. It was smaller, and the spells they knew were remarkably different from the ones the generation before had been taught. These children could perform the Killing Curse nearly in their sleep. They could stupefy or kill, attack and maim, but they did not know how to make things levitate, how to plant a mandrake, how to make a sleeping potion. After all, priorities even in education had changed when Voldemort had risen again.

Dumbledore was feeling remarkably better than he had the previous day about the choices he was being forced to make. He believed he had come to a decision that would be beneficial not only to Harry, but to Draco and Lucky as well. He did not like having to use children as tools and weapons, but war made every decision difficult, and if he had to use her, he may as well do it as gently as possible, and maybe the process would help Draco as well.

“Mister Malfoy,” he called from the sidelines as a few weak Patronus spells drifted off into the wind. “I wish to discuss something with you.”

Draco glanced at him, said something quickly to Lupin, and sauntered over, looking bored. Dumbledore saw more than the mask he wore, however, and could see evidence of his sleepless nights in his eyes. “Still having nightmares?” He asked gently.

Draco scowled. “No.”

“It does not count if you do not sleep long enough to have them,” Dumbledore told him. “But that is not what I came here to discuss. I have a mission of utmost importance I wish to offer to you.”

Interest lit up Draco’s eyes. “What sort of mission? Is it dangerous?”

“If you fail at it, I am afraid the cause may be lost,” Dumbledore said solemnly. “And you are our best hope.”

“What mission?”

Taking a deep breath and knowing that this was going to be the hardest part to get Draco to agree to, Dumbledore said delicately, “Miss Weasley told me earlier today of the help you gave her last night, with the children.”

Draco looked wary. “So?”

“So, I am afraid our entire cause rests on the power of one of those little girls. And it seems, Draco, that you are the person she trusts more than any other. We don’t know how long she lived in the ruins, or why she was there to begin with, but it is safe to say that she has learned not to trust. Somehow,” he finished gently, “she seems to trust you.”

Scowling furiously, Draco said, “What do you want me to do about it?”

“You are the second strongest wizard under my command,” Dumbledore explained firmly. “We do not know much about her talent, but if anyone here has any chance to help her learn to tame it and control it, it will be you. I want you to do what you can to teach her to use her magic so that we may be able to use it to help Harry.”

“Do I get a choice in the matter?” he asked in a tight voice, looking furious.


“Then I’ll do what I can,” Draco snarled, walking away. Dumbledore smiled a little and went back inside.


It took a lot of guts that night for Draco to actually go willingly into the north wing and into the dormitory where Ginny sat on the floor with the children, laughing as they showed her some finger paints they had done earlier that day. For a while, Draco didn’t announce his presence, he just watched them. Lucky seemed happy enough, she and Keela had obviously grown very close in the way that only little girls seemed to be able to do in a matter of days, and the baby was asleep. Iniko was snickering over something Belle was saying, and Miles was trying to look like he was too mature to find the joke funny.

It was Ginny who first noticed he was there. She seemed to sense him standing there and glanced up, her eyes going wide a second before she hopped to her feet. She flashed a quick grin and said, “Hi.”

The children all turned to see who she spoke to, and a second later, Draco was attacked as they all ran towards him, their arms outstretched. They were all shouting things he couldn’t catch and he felt the ridiculous urge to run from them. They wanted something from him he knew he couldn’t give, and it made him angry. He’d never been around children before and didn’t know what to do.

Ginny, of course, laughing at the uncomfortable look on his face, hurried to his rescue. “It’s time to get your pajamas on,” she told them, herding them all towards the wardrobe. They pulled Draco along with them, and he let himself be pulled along, wondering how the hell he was supposed to do this ‘mission’ without going mad.

Ginny managed to weave her way through the crowd of children to his side, shooing them away, and then she turned to him, smiling apologetically. “Sorry. We don’t get all that many visitors.”

Running a hand through his hair, Draco said, “You’re the only one who watches them? No one helps you?”

She shrugged. “Charlie comes by sometimes and helps out. And Hermione, every now and again. Harry…” She trailed off. “Well, he used to. He likes children.”

“You never get days off?”

“Do you ever get breaks? Why should I when no one else does?”

Draco grimaced in distaste. “Your job seems somehow more tiring than mine.”

She grinned. “You fight bad guys. I take care of children. I’d think you’d need the break more than me. Besides, I like being with the children.” She glanced fondly at the children who were arguing good-naturedly over which pajamas they each got to wear.

“I don’t like children,” he said, wondering why he was even bothering with this ridiculous mission. He’d much rather be alone, walking on the parapets.

“You were an only child,” she said easily. “You just don’t know how to deal with chaos. It’s not so hard.”

“I don’t like them,” he repeated stubbornly.

“Then what,” she asked quietly, even as she reached up and rubbed a bit of dirt off his nose. “Are you doing here?”

He slapped her hand away. “What are you doing?!”

She laughed. “You had dirt.”

“I most certainly did not!”

She shrugged. “I’m sure even Malfoys get dirty sometimes, Draco.”

He smirked and would have said something crude, except Belle suddenly appeared at his side, smiling up at him with something like puppy love in her eyes. He winced. “Are you going to tell us a story tonight, Mister Malfoy?” she asked.

Before he could stammer an excuse, Ginny said, “I don’t think Draco knows how to tell stories.”

“I do so!” he snapped.

Belle hopped up and down, squealing. “Then you will!” she cried.

Ginny looked just a little smug. “Yes, Draco, then you must prove it.”

He would have argued except by now, Belle had told all the other children and they were all hanging off him, clamoring for a story. Feeling much as if he had been swept away by a heavy current, Draco allowed himself to be pulled over to the bed, forced to sit on it, and to have children climb all over him. Ginny giggled as she crawled on the bed as well, and some of the children (but not nearly as many as Draco’s peace of mind required) climbed on her instead, all of them snuggling in for a story.

And Draco had never told a story in his life. Well, not one that was suitable for children, anyway.

Glancing uncertainly at Ginny, he remembered they way she had started her story the night before and said, “Once upon a time there was a… troll. Named Bob.”

Ginny smiled at him encouragingly, and he took a deep breath, continuing, “Bob was lonely.”

“Why was Bob lonely?” Iniko asked quickly.

Draco opened his mouth but nothing came to mind, and Ginny suggested, “Perhaps because he smelled of rotten tuna and no one wanted to be his friend?”

There was a chorus of ‘eeew, that’s sick’, and Draco shot a thankful glance at Ginny. “Yeah. Exactly. Bob stunk. So he had no friends. And then one day…” as he spoke, he gained confidence, telling a wild tale that had the children at times giggling madly or ‘eewing’ or looking frightened, and Ginny beaming like a proud mother at him.

In the doorway, Dumbledore glanced into the room, smiling contentedly when he saw Draco there, on the bed surrounded by children, and telling a story, aided at times by Ginny. He had known that if there was anyone who could keep Draco from spending his nights on the parapets alone, it would be Ginny Weasley and her ragged band of orphans. He had assigned Draco to this task for more than Harry’s sake, after all, and he was more than pleased to see it was working.


Ginny followed Draco out of the dormitory, closing the door quietly behind her. Draco was holding a candle that cast the hallway in flickering lights, and he waited until she closed the door before handing her the candle and turning to go.

Ginny’s hand on his arm made him stop. “Draco, wait,” she said quietly. “I

wanted to ask you something.”

He looked wary. “What?”

“Why did you come here? Really?”

He considered telling her the truth. Dumbledore had asked him to befriend Lucky and he thought Ginny was the easiest way to do so. He couldn’t make himself say the words though, so he shrugged easily and said, “I was bored.”

She bit her lip thoughtfully and then asked, “Are you going to come again?”

A slow, understanding smile spread across his mouth and he stepped closer to her, the candle in his hand flickering alarmingly. Ginny backed up quickly, suddenly looking wary, and Draco moved even closer, until she was pinned against the door, his legs pressed against hers. “Do you want me to?” he asked huskily.

Ginny laughed nervously. “You’d misunderstand if I said yes.”

“Oh, I think I understand perfectly,” he whispered.

She surprised him by shoving at his chest hard, and he stumbled back. “Oh, I don’t think you do,” she snapped, fury making her eyes glitter. “Why is it that everything out of your mouth either drips with sarcasm and disdain, or some perversely and pathetically disguised attempt at seduction?”

He grinned. “Was it working?”

“No!” she cried. “It wasn’t! This may come as news to you, but I don’t think you’re sexy!”

Draco laughed scornfully. “Come on, you’re joking. Everyone thinks I’m sexy. Men, women, house elves, everyone.”

“Well I don’t.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I think you’re an arrogant, scared little boy who’d rather spend his time pouting up on the parapets than around anyone because he’s afraid if he gives anyone half a chance to get to know him, they’ll find out he isn’t the all-sexified, all-knowing god of seduction and sarcasm he pretends to be.”

Scowling, and feeling very much like a chastised little boy and hating the feeling, Draco said silkily, “Trust me, Ginny, if I was trying to seduce you, you’d know it, and then you’d think I was sexy.”

She threw up her hands in exasperation. “Honestly, hasn’t anyone ever tried to talk to you as a friend without secretly wanting to shag you?” His eyes were shadowed and his lips tightened, and Ginny clapped one hand over her mouth. “You’re not serious,” she giggled.

“It’s not my fault,” he said sullenly.

“You poor thing,” she cooed, rolling her eyes.

He scowled. “I must be rubbing off on you, Weasley. If I didn’t know any better, I would think that was sarcasm.”

“Well, maybe it’s just us Weasleys who are immune to your charms,” she said in a consolatory tone. “I wouldn’t take it personally.”

Feeling insulted, Draco snapped, “Your brother’s not.”

Ginny’s eyes went huge. “Which one?” she gasped.

Draco smiled viciously. “Ron.”

“Oh my god. He wants to shag you?”

Draco couldn’t help it; the shocked look on her face was too much, and he burst out laughing. He saw her eyes widen, even larger than before, and he laughed harder. He was vaguely surprised that he still knew how to laugh like that: honestly, without any scorn or sarcasm. Ginny, too, seemed surprised, and she watched him with a faintly amused little smile, her hands on her hips, until he had gotten himself under control. “Are you finished?” she asked in an imperial tone. “I hardly think my brother wanting to shag you is something to laugh at. Really, you should be flattered. Do you like him back? I could fix you two up!” Her eyes were glittering with excitement now. “You two would be so cute together, really. I didn’t even know Ron was interested in men!”

Draco snickered. “He’s not, Ginny. It was an accident, of sorts. Surely you’ve noticed that people behave in strange ways when Lucky is around?”

Her face fell. “Oh. Yes, I have noticed. I thought I was going mad.”

He explained Lucky’s magic to her quickly, wondering why Dumbledore hadn’t told her before.

When he was finished, Ginny pursed her lips. “Poor little girl,” she said. “Hopefully we can help her control it.” She grinned. “Still, don’t think I’m not going to tease Ron about this for years.”

Draco grinned back, his smile sincere and mischievous, a little lopsided, and as different from his usual smirk as hot is different from cold.

“But honestly, Draco,” she said in a more solemn tone. “Are you going to come and visit? I’d like it if you did, I do get lonely here.”

He shrugged lazily. “Maybe.”

She surprised both him and herself when she hugged him quickly. “I’ll take that as a yes and hold you to it,” she said with another quick grin, before disappearing into her room.

Draco, looking perplexed and not at all like his usual all-sexified, all-knowing god of seduction and sarcasm self, glanced at her door quickly before turning and leaving the north wing quickly, his candle flickering as he walked. It was still rather early and he briefly considered going up to the parapets, but he found himself more exhausted than normal, and made his way back to his room, blowing out the candle, undressing quickly, and falling onto his bed, asleep before he hit the pillow. He slept without dreams or nightmares, for the first time since the fall of Hogwarts.