Brave New World

Draco was dreaming. Unfortunately, that knowledge did not seem to have any impact on his adrenaline levels. He was standing in front of his father, in his study. His mother lay on the floor writhing. She did not speak, but her eyes never left his face. He wanted to reach out to her, but he couldn't. Someone--Longbottom, his memory said; Hermione, his dream-self contradicted--was holding him back.

"Stop it, you bastard, you're killing her! There has to be another way!" Lucius, Lord Malfoy looked up from the oriental carpet his wife was lying on. The malicious glint in his eyes deepened as he raised his wand to point it at his only heir.

"So you've betrayed me too, have you." His voice did not waver as he spoke the killing curse. Draco felt the person behind him shove him to the side, taking the curse herself. Draco woke up screaming.

He did not recognize his surroundings. The room was vastly inferior in décor than his rooms at home, he could tell that even in the light from the near-full moon spilling in through a small shuttered window. It took him several moments to realize that, while it had only been a dream, it was real. All of it. His mother was dead, his father was a madman, and he was an exile. With his worst enemies as his only allies. It was like a bad play. Except it was real.

A firm knock on the door startled him from his near-panic. He reached over to the bedside table to look for his wand. "Who is it?" He absently noted that his voice cracked slightly from fear and weariness and adolescence.

His godfather opened the door instead of replying. He was wearing a black dressing gown and an annoyed expression. He shut the door and sat down in the chair next to the bedside table without really looking at Draco. "Draco, it was just a dream."

Well, I know that bloody well, Draco thought angrily. His mind barked back at itself, don't be angry, it's not like he knows how to deal with nightmares, unless his sister had them...but judging by his actions, she didn't. And it is an ungodly hour. He managed to stop himself from snapping back. "I know sir. I forgot that Muggle houses to not have silencing charms. I'm fine though. Go back to bed."

Snape finally looked at him, and Draco could see genuine concern in the man's black eyes. "Some people seem to believe that speaking about one's dreams helps..." Draco shook his head. "Of course, I was never of that school of thought. Draco..." Snape appeared to be struggling for the right words. Draco wondered if it was the situation or the late hour that made his normally unflappable godfather so uncomfortable. "Draco, I am sorry about your mother. About this entire situation. I...I do not see how I can help you, but I wish I could."

Draco could not believe his godfather was being so straightforward. So much for Slytherin subtlety. "Sir, I imagine being surrounded by all these Gryffindors can not be easy for you either...and it would be silly to take points now." A faint grin. This was good. Serious Snape is always slightly dangerous. "But...thank you." He decided to shift to a slightly less serious note. "Do you have any idea what's going on with Potter and Weasley? Ginny, I mean, not Ron." Malfoy mentally retched at the thought.

Snape looked confused for a moment. "Well, I had not noticed anything...but then I was distracted by homicidal maniacs...that could be...interesting. Her brother will be less than pleased, I imagine." He grinned outright at the thought of discord among the Gryffindors.

Draco saw an opening, and took it. "What happened this afternoon anyway?"

Snape's grin faded immediately. The sour look, while much more familiar, looked much worse on his striking face. It occasionally even intimidated his godson. "That mongrel thought it would be amusing to demonstrate how a Muggle fountain differs from a wizarding one. Not at all, apparently. And his pet werewolf helped." While he still radiated annoyance at the incident, he did not seem quite as furious as Draco expected him to. Perhaps it was one of those things, funny in retrospect. Or perhaps he, too, was feeling the overwhelming pressure to make alliances. Snape changed the subject. "I presume your afternoon was more enjoyable?"

Draco nodded. "Did you know Weasley plays chess? Almost competently?" Perhaps they could have a tournament sometime. In the new house. Draco's face fell so dramatically that Snape, who had been studying the tapestry on the wall, swiveled his head.

"What is it, Draco?" Draco took a deep breath, his hands clenching the bedspread tightly as he concentrated on counting to ten in Portuguese. His rebel mind-voice commented that his father had never spoken to him with such concern. After a moment, Draco felt in control enough to answer.

"It's just...I don't know want to go to school with Muggles. I don't want to live like one. I...I don't know if I can do it, sir. I don't think I will go tomorrow." Draco concentrated on the pattern of the bedspread so he didn't have to look at his godfather when he confessed his weakness.

He heard the man sigh. He didn't shout about weakness though, or even make some scathing comment in his trademark way. His voice was weary when he finally answered. "So am I, Draco. I'm terrified. I never envisioned my life taking the route it has. But you will go tomorrow, as will I. And we will get along fine. Once we get used to it. We've both seen Muggleborns adapt to wizarding the lifestyle. We can adapt to the Muggle one, as well." The two sat in silence for a few minutes. "You might be interesting in a Muggle science they call Chemistry; it appears to be quite similar to Potions. And the silent mirrors is something of a relief, I must admit." Draco almost chuckled at that. He imagined mirrors tended to tread very lightly where his godfather was concerned. The man was surprisingly sensitive about his appearance.

Again, they lapsed into silence. Draco could feel his eyelids beginning to get heavy. "Sir, I think I will be able to sleep now. Thank you for sitting with me." Snape nodded. He looked a bit tired too.

"Very well. I have a few vials of Dreamless Sleep Potion, should the dreams re-occur. I will see you in the morning." With that, he was gone before Draco could blink. He laid back down, one arm curled tightly around the spare pillow. He didn't really expect to fall asleep before morning, which was only a short ways off judging by the lightening sky, but he soon drifted off. This time, his sleep was peaceful.

At least, until a loud crash from the room next door had him standing holding his wand before he realized he was awake. Muffled cursing in both Potter and Weasley's voices calmed him slightly. They must have just tripped over each other, or something equally Gryffindorish: if it had been real danger they would either have shouted a warning or been silenced. However, Draco was completely alert now, and decided it was a useless effort to go back to bed.

That morning was more or less a repeat of the previous one, minus the embarrassing coffee incident. He managed to make the coffee without assistance, and a sip confirmed that, while far from the best coffee he had ever tasted, it was a decent brew. A bit of practice and his coffee should certainly compete with the best of the wizarding world. His stomach grumbled, so he picked up an orange that was sitting on the counter, peeling it over the trashcan.

Slowly, the rest of the group wandered in. This morning Lupin was looking more stressed out and tired. Draco wondered if he had trouble sleeping, before remembering how close to full the moon had been last night. His transformation would be soon--in fact, if he calculated right, it would be tonight. That's just bloody wonderful. Draco wondered when his life would get better. It certainly didn't seem to be able to get worse. And then he remembered that he had to face the Muggles today.

His godfather, now fortified by no less than four cups of coffee, noticed his panicked expression and sent him a reassuring glance. Relief warred with surprise that Professor Snape actually had a reassuring face.

Hermione was entirely too cheerful for the morning. Draco had a dreadful feeling that she was like this every morning. "We have an appointment at ten o'clock to see the house, and that's only two hours away. So you guys better go get ready to go. It'll take about thirty minutes to get there--we get to take the subway! You'll love it, Ron."

Draco tuned out the rest of her babble. He decided to head upstairs and see if the silent mirror was indeed an improvement on the babbling type. It was almost showtime, and he wanted his Malfoy calm to be impenetrable. He would not let either these Gryffindorks or Muggles upset his sophisticated Slytherin self. At least, not visibly. Inside, he would most likely be shaking in his shoes.

TBC...