A Dream For The Dead

A Dream For The Dead

Chapter 3

Promises

The gentle September sun was low in the sky, hidden behind neighbourhood houses. The sky was painted a nostalgic shade of magenta and the last of the summer breeze filtered in through the window. He watched the sky change with every passing moment and signed, unknowingly, to himself.

“Where are you?”

The voice suddenly shattered his thoughts and Harry turned his head back to the table. He realized he had been idly spinning some sprouts on his fork when the daydream had hit. Ginny was questioning him with her gaze. There was a hopefulness in her eyes. There was also discomfort.

“What?” Harry asked, confused about the question. His attention turned to Lily, sitting bemused in her chair, sliding a halved potato around her plate as though it was a Muggle car. She was making the engine noises to complete the illusion under her breath. Harry smiled to himself.

“Where were you,” Ginny repeated, her voice less cutting the second time. “Just now.”

“I was right here,” Harry answered, still completely perplexed by the question. Had he unknowingly taken to disappearing from view? He deftly pressed his fingers to his own chest as though to make sure he was still solid. There was no trace of mockery in his actions, nor the look of concern on his face. He seemed genuinely worried that he was losing his presence in the material world.

“Thank you, genius,” Ginny shot, chucking a balled up napkin at him. He caught it before he thought about it and placed it on the table. “I mean, you wandered off in your head somewhere.” She stabbed a piece of meat with her fork, looking down at her plate. “Where were you?”

Harry watched her for a moment. He felt himself smiling ever so slightly. He wondered what it was she hoped he would say. Where did she hope he went, in his mind?

“I was just thinking about Hogwarts,” Harry answered as honestly as he thought he could. It wasn’t a lie, it just wasn’t the whole truth. He had learned, long ago, that a lie by omission was still a lie when told to hurt. When told to protect someone from hurt, it became a half-truth. He wasn’t fond of the semantics, but neither could he deny them.

Ginny’s face brightened very slightly. She looked up at him and smiled uncomfortably.

“What in particular?” she asked, picking up Lily’s napkin to wipe the side of their daughter’s face. She had somehow spilled juice down her face and was making noises of protest at the action Ginny was taking.

Harry’s eyes followed the movement and he thought to himself.

Family dinners are important.

Yes. In fact, he did everything in his power to ensure that he was there for dinner every night. Some nights he was alone with Lily. Others he had been forced to work, but if Harry could help it, he would be there for dinner with his daughter.

“Just… the time before the war,” Harry found himself answering in an undertone. He shrugged off his own answer and picked up his glass of pumpkin juice. She lowered her head slightly, gazing at him through a swooped fringe of hair that fell into her eyes. This had once been the most seductive movement she could have made to him.

“Sixth year?” Ginny asked, a low timbre to her voice.

Ah. That’s what she wanted him to be reliving in his mind.

He smiled sadly and got to his feet, lifting his plate and glass as he went.

“No one thing in particular,” he said. He placed the dishes in the skin and flicked his wand. The dirty plate began to clean itself. He turned back to the table and saw that Ginny had visibly fallen as she carefully collected both hers and her daughter’s plates.

Harry kneeled next to Lily’s chair and spun her to face him. He smiled a mischievous smile and waggled his eyebrows at her.

“What do I have here?” he asked her, hiding his hand in his pocket. She studied him for a moment and then her eyes widened in pretend horror, recognizing the game. He withdrew his hand slowly, his mischievous grin still in place. His fingers were curled in a somewhat claw-like shape as he held out his hand to show her. She opened her mouth wide and squealed as she tried to fight away from him. He began to tickle her mercilessly, scooping Lily into his arms as she laughed and laughed.

The sound of it was like little bells and chimes that reminded Harry of Christmases with Ron and Hermione. She struggled and kicked in the air as he wrapped his arms around her and carried her off to the living room, all the while blowing raspberries into her stomach.

“Be careful!” Ginny reprimanded from the kitchen, not bothering to turn her around to face them. Harry made a motion of acknowledgement that he knew she hadn’t seen and continued on, playfully attacking his youngest.

“Daddy, daddy, stop!” she cried out, gleefully trying to escape him. He pulled back with a look of feigned hurt on his face. He pouted his lip and began to make a whining sound similar to a puppy. She giggled again and pushed his cheek with her hand. “No whining, daddy.”

“You know, I don’t know how long I can stop the claw from attacking,” he warned her sagely. “It has a mind of its own.” He grinned at her.

“But daddy, I need to breathe,” she told him with all the drama that a child her age could muster. She took a deep breath in to prove her point. He nodded to her, fully understanding her complaint.

“Alright, let me see if I can cast a spell on it,” he told her, thinking for a moment. “Maybe you can help me.” He handed her his wand and held out his ‘claw’ hand again. She poised herself as though she were about to duel her wretched enemy. “Now repeat after me.” She nodded solemnly to him. “Strong as bark and power of mage, Keep that nasty claw in its cage!”

Lily giggled as she repeated the words and flicked his wand. Immediately, Harry began to shake his arm as though fighting a bitter battle with himself before he plunged the hand back into the depths of his robes.

“Ahh!” he exclaimed happily. “Much better now.” Lily laughed and curled up into him, wrapping her arms around his neck. Harry smiled and hugged his daughter.

However much he loved his sons –and he certainly loved them more than he could ever say –they never let him hold them like this. Not since they were very young. Al still let Harry hug him, but only when they were alone. James had moved into the pleasant phase of puberty where their fondest wish is to be as annoying as possible to all adults they encounter. Harry laughed softly to himself.

Lily was more affectionate than either of his sons and he was sure it had nothing to do with the fact that she was a girl. He didn’t quite know where she learned the behaviour. Ginny was certainly never this affectionate. She was loving, sure, but her affection for Harry had always been intimated in different ways.

He cherished the moments he spent with his daughter. He wished, somehow, that she did not have to go to Hogwarts at all, that she never needed to grow up and know any kind of disappointment. He wished for her what he had never really known, but what every parent dreams of for their children. A life without the painful trials they themselves had experienced.

“Daddy?” Lily’s little voice called to him. He hummed in reply and gently rubbed her back. “Will you read me a bedtime story tonight?” She looked up hopefully and nearly broke his heart. He swallowed. “Or do you have to go back to work again?”

Harry hugged her tightly and kissed her forehead. As he did so, he chanced a glance at Ginny who had seated herself in the armchair next to the bookshelf. Her expression was unreadable and he turned back to his daughter.

“Yes, love,” he answered. “I’ll read you a story tonight.” He smiled as her face lit up and she jumped out of his arms to go get her book, squealing something about Beedle the Bard. Harry felt a twinge of discomfort at the name but relaxed into it.

Yes. Family dinners were important.

++++++

Mr. Malfoy,

It is with our deepest regrets that we were informed yesterday afternoon of the gross mistake in delivery to which you were subject. While we maintain that the mistake was not that of our managers, nor our employees, we do take full responsibility for your disappointment. We do not make a practice of sending outmoded models to International Quidditch stars.

Given, however, that the model you have ordered is no longer in stock in our store, we are sorry to have to report that it will have to be shipped from Ireland. We do assure you, however, that the new Firebolt 250, with a complementary broomstick servicing kit, will be delivered to you at the Ministry of Magic League Headquarters, by hand, before the twenty-fifth of September, as was requested by Mr. Wood. We apologize for any inconvenience or grief this mistake may have caused you.

We appreciate your patronage and hope that the aforementioned arrangements are acceptable.

Sincerely,

Eoin Callaghan
Quality Quidditch Supplies

++++++

Draco gently stroked Pavo’s back. The Dusky Eagle Owl crooned into his fingers as he set out some food for him. He smiled softly, ignoring the pile of letters the bird had delivered. After a quick scan of the pile to ensure that there were no Howlers hidden therein, Draco decided that he did not much care to know what they were.

The only letter that mattered at all, for the moment, he had already read and it had been delivered by a non-descript Barn Owl. Draco recognized the seal of the Quidditch supply store from a distance.

He had folded the parchment carefully and tucked it into his robes before Pavo had flown through the window. There was no need for anyone else to find out its contents.

“You never get a break, do you?” Draco asked his owl. It hooted softly at him before flying off out the window. There was a small owlery set up on the roof to house Pavo comfortably. Draco watched as he went. He had named the creature in honour of his father’s lost pets.

Nothing had quite been the same after the war.

Not that he thought it would be.

He sighed and rubbed his temples with his thumb and forefinger. He had not slept.

Draco got to his feet and flipped carefully through the various envelopes on the table. He quickly sorted them into fan mail and hate mail. It wasn’t difficult. Those who cared enough to write to Draco either loved him or hated him. Those who loved him put special care into the messages, writing in coloured inks with curly writing, stamped with careful wax seals, tied with coloured ribbons. They were generally lighter than the alternative.

Those who hated Draco enough to write to him generally employed black ink with nondescript wax seals (if any) and often contained some kind of unpleasant magical detail. Exploding missives. Poison. Biting letters –literally. They weighed more than the others.

There was a generally even distribution between the two extremes today. Draco came to the last envelope and puzzled at the writing. It was light, like the fan letters, but the ink was black and it bore no particular insignia. He fingered the parchment for a moment or two, deliberating over the pros and cons of opening the thing. By the weight of it, it could not possibly be carrying a curse or a poison.

Draco bit his lip momentarily before running his finger under the flap to break the seal. With a faint snap it opened and he pulled out the letter. Almost as soon as he unfolded the message, he dropped it onto the table.

His eyes were trained on the signature at the bottom of the message and he swallowed hard. He felt the world being yanked out from under him and he fought to keep his footing. There was a heavy pressure on his chest and the air became denser. His throat became very dry and he shut his eyes.

Darkness swirled around him and memories flooded back, without discrimination. They overwhelmed his mind and infused every fibre of his being with a pain that was all-too familiar.

Draco gasped suddenly.

“That was yesterday,” he told himself. “This is today.”

After a few moments, he opened his eyes, his gaze still directed at the letter. He took a deep breath and picked it up, folding it carefully. He struggled to keep his hold on it as though the parchment itself was burning through his fingers.

“Inky,” he called out quietly. A house-elf appeared before him with a faint pop. The little elf was thin and pointed, somewhat like Draco. Unlike Draco, however, the elf’s fingers looked as though they had been dipped in black ink and stained that way. It was wearing a carefully cut linen uniform with a tiny little Malfoy crest on the breast. It had massive blue eyes.

“Yes, Master Draco?” the little elf asked carefully. Draco relaxed his tense body.

“Inky,” he repeated as though it helped to assure him that the elf was actually there and he wasn’t losing his mind. “Please take these two piles and place them in the appropriate trunks.” He pointed to the two piles. “I will get to the white trunk later, but please ensure that the black trunk is adequately warded.”

“Yes, Master Draco.” The elf bowed deeply and lifted the two separate piles of letters. Draco hesitated, still holding the final letter in his fingertips. The elf paused and looked at him.

Had their previous house-elf done this once Draco had given it an order, he would have been horribly insulted and forced the elf to punish itself. Draco would have once considered it insolence.

Now, however, Draco saw it for what it truly was –concern. He had grown to like Inky very much and knew that the house-elf was his only true confidant. Bound by its contract to the Malfoy family, Inky could never speak of what Draco told him to anyone else. Still, there was a better reason that Draco allowed Inky to know things that no one else did.

He was one of Draco’s only genuine friends.

“Is there anything else Inky can do for Master?” the elf asked him carefully. Draco dropped into the armchair and sighed heavily. The elf patted him gently on the knee. He knew that Draco used touches to ground himself, to collect himself. He smiled sadly at the elf.

“Yes,” he said finally. He held out the final letter for Inky. “Please make sure to place this in the mahogany chest and ward it as well.” He nodded to the elf and it nodded back, taking the wretched letter from Draco’s hand and popping out of sight.

Draco felt a faint burning on his fingers from where the letter had touched him. He was sure that he would feel it all day.

He took a deep breath and walked over to the window. The sky was dark now. The moon was rising in the distance and Draco smiled to himself.

The Sun and I,
We don’t see eye to eye,
But the Moon, my friend,
Will love me to the end.

Draco ran a finger over the window pane as he watched the moon, remembering the little lullaby that his mother had sung to him when he was small. He had hummed those same words to his own son, on dark summer nights when Scorpius could not sleep.

To Draco, the moon would always mark a safer place than the sun every could. Especially since the war. It was the nights without a moon that worried him.

“Welcome to the new world,” he whispered. “God save us.”

+++++

Harry kissed his daughter’s forehead as he smoothed down the blanket over her little sleeping form. With a wave of his wand, the light went out and he carefully clicked the door shut behind him. He sighed softly as he leaned back against the door, his palms flat against the wood. He was trying to soak in as much of Lily as he could.

“You kept her up late tonight,” Ginny’s voice murmured from somewhere in the darkness of the hall. Harry looked up, the shadows moving fluidly as he did. They escaped into the comfort of dark corners and unlit rooms.

“She wanted me to read every story,” Harry answered, somewhat defensively. There was no real accusation in Ginny’s voice, but he did not care. “I can’t say no to her.”

Ginny was still engulfed in shadows and seemed intent to stay there. Harry swallowed and moved forward, walking past her carefully. He didn’t want to risk waking Lily if they were going to have any kind of conversation.

He stepped into the living room and waited, as Ginny followed him. She stayed in the darkness where he could not read her face. Harry frowned slightly. She had once been so bright to him, like a shining beacon in his world of chaos. Now she was just another shadow.

“I won’t be home for dinner tomorrow,” she said suddenly. Harry froze in place and stared through her to the darkness. He felt his throat close up and opened his mouth to ask, or perhaps yell, why. “I have practice.”

Harry calmed down slightly and smoothed his hands over his robes. He played idly with the fastenings.

“So do you want me to do?” he asked, his voice somewhat empty. She shifted in the shadows and threw more of them on the floor around him. He ignored them.

“Well, I’m going to leave Lily with my mother,” she continued, apparently ignoring the emptiness of his tone. “You can go for dinner there if you want. You know she would never turn you out.” Harry bit back the words that were desperately forcing their way to his tongue. There was no use in saying them. They were meaningless now. “Or you can do as you please. Lily will sleep at Mum’s, so no need to worry about her.”

Harry felt compelled to inform Ginny that, regardless of how safe Lily was, Harry would always worry about her. He denied himself that comment as well. He was too tired for anything, just then.

“Right,” he answered finally. He walked over to the hearth and reached for the little pot on the mantle.

“Harry,” Ginny called softly. He turned around, expecting to see her arm outstretched to him in need. He was mistaken. She stood, her arms crossed over her chest and completely unmoving. He wondered if he had imagined the call. “I just… thank you. For reading to Lily tonight. It was good of you.”

Harry stared through the darkness. He laughed inaudibly to himself. It was a dry, mirthless laugh.

“Well, she’s my daughter, isn’t she?” he answered. Ginny said nothing and he turned back to the hearth. “I’ve got to get going. Lots of paperwork.”

And without another word he stepped into the Floo and disappeared in a lick of green flames.
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A/N: I'm sorry for the delay. I was camping for almost a week. I like this chapter, but the next two I'm not sure about (I've already written them). So I might post both of those tomorrow so I can move on. I want this to move more quickly than it is. Hmm. Still getting back into Harry and Draco's minds. Hope you enjoyed it! Reviews beget posting! lol *hearts to you all*