A Dream For The Dead

A Dream for the Dead

Chapter 38

Life Is But A Dream For The Dead

Everything was still and everything was silent. A moment that held an eternity stretched out and Life stopped to make way for Death and the liminal world mortals should never see. Draco felt his heart shatter as Harry’s body, soul and magic dispersed and then solidified into a whole new thing. His consciousness was gone because his green eyes were dull and matte. His expression was blank and his gaze was unfocussed. He was transparent and cloudy all at once.

He was no longer living, but neither was he dead.

Draco had the morbid impression that he should fall slowly, knees buckling first and then the rest of him tumbling like a tree trunk until he collided with the stone ground and disappeared forever. But Harry did not move. He did not fall and he did not turn. He was caught in a moment, frozen in time and his soul was like a Muggle photograph –unmoving, forever unchanging.

It seemed to Draco that whatever infernal cold had frozen Harry was spreading quickly to him. He could not breathe and he could not move. He simply watched the flashes of light illuminate the room, watched Harry become transparent and then saw Thomas and Astoria fall, unconscious, by the door.

Draco’s mind raced while time stopped and everything became motionless. He saw Harry’s wand fall to the ground with a light tinkling sound once he had been hit and after he had cast the spell to protect Draco from Astoria’s attack. He knew he only cast one spell.

He also knew that five spells had been cast and Dean Thomas and Astoria Greengrass were both unconscious.

Draco’s eyes pierced through Harry’s spectral body and spotted the fifth person in the doorway. When he realized who it was, he could hardly believe it and raised his wand again before thinking.

Ginny Weasley stood over the bodies of Thomas and Astoria, her wand out and her face drawn up in rage. But she was not focused on Draco and neither was she paying much attention to Harry. Her wand was trained on Thomas’ unconscious form.

She looked up eventually and saw him staring. Her face changed from fury to shame and hurt and many other feelings that combined to make a stew –it was impossible to tell one from the next. She frowned at him and shut her eyes in a moment of silent capitulation. She was apologizing to Draco and, probably, to Harry for what she had done.

Draco opened his mouth to speak –though he would never know what he might have said –when the black void in the world began to tug harder. Draco was accustomed to the pull and managed to fight it, but Harry’s soul was no longer his body.

The spectral form of him spun on the spot and was yanked along like a rag doll, into the darkness and toward Death. Draco watched in muted horror as Harry’s eyes rolled to focus on him, the life gone from them leaving only emptiness. Still, his spectral hand reached out to Draco as his spirit was sucked into the black.

“Harry!!” Draco cried and realized that his voice was matched by another. He looked back at Weasley with shock and fear in his eyes, his arm outstretched to reach for his lover. She looked back at him in that moment and she pleaded with her eyes.

“You have to save him, Malfoy!” she cried in desperation. She cast spells at the black hole but they did nothing to diminish it. “I can’t save Harry. I never could.” Draco was listening but his hand had found Harry’s and was holding fast. He felt as though he was holding onto a knife. “No one ever saves Harry.” Then she looked at him again and Draco could feel the power of her gaze on his face, his eyes locked with the matte green ones that called eerily to him. “No one but you.”

“Father!” Scorpius called from somewhere distant behind him. Draco paused, just for a moment. His heart felt as though it would burst in his chest and he fought to keep hold of his lover while worrying for his son. “Father please be careful!”

Draco’s eyes widened and he glanced briefly back at his son. Scorpius was still bound but his expression was fierce and he stood strong, the magic that bound him to the wall having fallen.

“I’ll see to Scorpius,” Weasley informed him. “You won’t be long.” She ran to Scorpius’ side. “Now, go. You need to save him like I never could.”

Draco would never have trusted a Weasley with his pocket lint but, in moments of panic, there are also moments of clarity. Ginny Weasley would not harm his son. Scorpius would not allow it, anyway.

“I love you, Scorpius,” Draco whispered fiercely, his eyes flashing. He grasped Harry tighter and pulled the spectral body toward him, but could not manage to fight the pull of black hole. So Draco did the only thing he knew would work.

He launched himself into the abyss.

Draco sailed into nothingness, his arms finding purchase in Harry’s ghostly robes. He grasped at the cloth. Pulling Harry’s body toward him, Draco wrapped his arms around his lover.

The spirit is not mist, nor is it shadow or smoke. It is not cloth, not water, not dust. The spirit is not light and it is not sound.

The spirit is glass. Sharp edges and broken pieces making up all the rough edges of human form. It cut through Draco in a burning cold and he felt himself bleed into the darkness.

He watched as his blood coated Harry’s glass body, dripping off the edges, splattering his face and hands and chest. Draco cried out from the pain of being cut from every angle but he still held Harry like his lifeline because that’s precisely what Harry was.

The darkness swirled and bloomed around them, filling in all the corners of Draco’s mind and pressing hard against his consciousness. It demanded that he lose control, that he give up his hold on life and concede defeat. It wanted forfeit, surrender.

But Malfoys never surrender. Not even when they should.

Draco only tightened his hold on Harry and soon felt the sharp glass spirit cut into his Sectumsempra scar, slicing deep and penetrating him fully. He felt Harry seep into his body and actually began to sob. Tears flowed into his blood and his blood flowed over his lover’s spirit.

Then, through his closed eyelids, Draco saw a light so blinding he was sure he would never see nor hear again. The light was all-encompassing and eradicated the darkness.

There was nothing to feel or hear or see. There was nothing but there was no emptiness.

Draco held Harry closer and bit down on his lip, tasting blood on his tongue. He was sure that they were done for, that the Grim had won and he had just willingly walked into Death’s arms. He let out one last, agonized breath and pressed his lips to Harry’s cold, smooth ones.

Then the light spun and suddenly ground was pushing up, angry and solid, beneath them. Draco groaned from the impact and the sickening weight of Harry on top of him. He opened his eyes but was blind and saw nothing. He wondered why the afterlife was not more inventive than a white background when, all of a sudden, he heard something.

A distant but all-too familiar, violently unpleasant sound met his ears, tearing through his eardrums and shattering his mind.

A train whistle sounded.

Draco’s vision cleared from the whiteness and he saw the vague outline of a brick barrier and an ornate sign with an impossible number.

Then a groan resounded throughout the empty space and Draco looked down. Harry was solid and opaque again –flesh and bone and blood. He pushed himself up and loomed over Draco, his glasses askew and his green eyes full of life once more.

“Draco,” he whispered as though he was just learning to speak. “Draco.” Harry smiled and cupped Draco’s face, brushing his thumb over the blond’s lips before claiming them with his mouth. Draco sighed into the kiss and allowed relief to wash over him briefly before terror drowned him.

“Harry,” Draco said, aware that his voice also sounded odd, his throat sore and scratchy from disuse. He cleared his throat briefly and then his eyes widened.” Harry we’re at Platform Nine and Three Quarters in the otherworld.”

Harry smiled and kissed him again before the words actually managed to reach the working part of his brain. Then he pulled back abruptly and his green eyes were wide. He froze momentarily before springing to his feet and pulling Draco along with him.

The blond was only distantly aware that he had stopped bleeding.

They both cast their looks around to take in the scene. It was much as Draco had remembered it, to be frank. There was the long –actually, endless -sprawl of the platform and a cloudy outline of the barriers. The tracks were not really visible and lead off into light that Draco knew was followed by darkness. The train was both there and not there. Draco saw smoke curling around nothing and felt the heat of the train, but it was what he heard that unsettled him most.

There were whispering, taunting voices coming from every angle. Some of them spoke words he could not understand, garbling their voices and messing with his head. The ones he could understand, however, frightened him even more. They threatened his sanity and his soul, they snickered and jeered and prodded at his mind, filling him with dread like he had never felt.

I’ve got too many enemies on this side.

He felt Harry take his hand and squeeze it, but it could not quell the fear that grew in Draco. There was a looming threat and he knew he could not stay. He just didn’t know how to leave.

The whistle blew again and Draco jumped. Harry caught him and rubbed what he must have imagined to be soothing circles against Draco’s back.

Draco wanted to say something but he could not. He felt lost and confused. He felt different.

Harry squeezed his hand tighter and drew Draco’s attention. When the blond turned, he saw something that made his blood run cold –if indeed it still had the capacity to run at all.

There was a massive, shaggy black dog padding toward them. Its tongue was lolling out as it panted and it stopped only a few feet short of where they were standing. Then it looked from Harry to Draco, sniffing at the air and gave them what could only be described as a smug grin.

Draco tensed and made to hold out his wand but realized, far too late, that he no longer had it. His eyes widened briefly as the dog stood its ground and stared them both down. It was cocky but almost playful in its demeanour and nothing at all like Draco would have imagined the Grim.

Harry was standing offensively to the dog, but defensively in that he was slightly in front of Draco, apparently shielding him. His eyes were sharp as he fought on his side of the staring contest. His hand was tight around Draco’s and there were a good few moments (or whatever measures time in a timeless place between worlds) where no one moved an inch.

Then the dog tilted its head slightly and Harry’s entire body relaxed. He drew in a surprised breath.

“Sirius?”

+++++

Harry’s mind was throbbing from the experiences of the evening. He felt the metaphysical part of him writhing in pain and anguish. He was exhausted and weak but his body was alert. Or at least, the body that was his in the liminal world was alert.

Harry hadn’t understood the philosophical nature of his experience of ‘almost-death’ the first time around and Dumbledore, being Dumbledore, did little to shed light on the matter. All he had offered Harry was the chance to live again, free of Voldemort and completely unburdened by the demands of the world.

Harry had taken it without thinking, without considering the consequences of that. He had just desperately wanted to live to see Voldemort defeated so that he could experience normal life. He wanted to live to be with Ginny again.

But normal life was not all it was cracked up to be and Ginny was not, as Harry naively assumed, his soulmate.

She couldn’t have been if his current surroundings were any kind of sign.

Harry pondered the thought for a moment. Maybe he ended up back at the transient Platform Nine and Three Quarters because he had made the wrong choices in his life. Maybe he ended up back there because he had ignored his soulmate and chosen what seemed easy, more normal, less Harry.

Harry frowned. He had never liked those Muggle board games where some tiles said “return to start”. He always pulled them and hated having to do things over again.

But this time was different so he supposed he wasn’t really returning to start.

I open at the close, the Snitch had informed him almost twenty years ago. So, what? I end at the beginning?

Harry frowned as he looked around, trying to take in the differences and the similarities. Draco’s hand was heavy in his and it kept him steady. He squeezed it.

The fact that there was no Voldemort baby lying about this time was reassuring. The fact that Dumbledore was also unaccounted for was not.

But the appearance of the shaggy black dog was simultaneously terrifying and calming. Harry surveyed it for a while, feeling Draco’s tension and his fear. He knew that this was the last place Draco wanted to see again. He knew that Draco was more afraid of Death than Harry was. But he also knew that this dog was not like the other one.

The eyes were deep black pools. Not fiery green. It tilted it’s head.

“Sirius!” Harry cried out, this time far more certain. His face split into a bright grin and his eyes lit up. The dog sniggered in the only way a dog can before suddenly shifting.

Unlike the smooth transition from animagus to human, there was no sense that the dog and the man were the same being. Instead, the dog simply disappeared to be replaced, instantaneously, as though there had never been a dog to begin with, by the man that Harry had missed most religiously for twenty-two years.

Sirius Black stood before both of them, his smug smirk suddenly reminding Harry of something Draco might don, while his eyes held a warmth and affection that Harry had forgotten he yearned for. He was wearing a train conductor’s uniform and his hands were folded in front of him.

“Harry,” he said, his voice sounded strange to Harry’s ears, though he was sure it was only because he had heard it in so long. Harry released Draco’s hand in a moment of unrestrained joy and threw himself at his godfather. Sirius caught him, held him tightly and suddenly Harry was fifteen again and Sirius was welcoming him to Grimmauld Place. Harry released him and pulled back to look into his face. Sirius smiled proudly at him and took him in. “You’ve outlived me, Harry. You’ve outlived us all.”

“Don’t think anyone expected that,” Harry admitted bemusedly, though his voice was breathy with awe. Sirius gave him a chiding look.

“Nonsense,” he informed him. “I knew it all along.” He paused, thoughtful. “Remus owes me a Galleon. He thought you’d die to kill Voldemort because it would be more symbolic. I told him that he really needed to get his head out of those books of his.”

Harry laughed because it was too much for him not to do something. It was either laugh, sob or explode and Harry had no intention of tainting his reunion with sadness.

Then there was a wave of pain that washed over Harry and he wondered where it came from. He had the distinct impression that the source was outside of himself. He looked back over his should at Draco, to ensure that he was alright.

He wasn’t.

Draco’s stance and demeanour hardly changed but suddenly his eyes broadcast his emotions like a magical billboard –everyone could read them. He was broken and terrified and in pain. Harry realized why and shut his eyes briefly.

This was Draco’s second trip to the otherworld as well. It was also the second time no one had shown up for him. Sirius was Draco’s cousin, but never cared for him.

“Are you alright, Malfoy?” Sirius asked, his tone conveying his amusement. “You’re looking rather grim.”

Harry stepped backward then, replacing himself next to the blond. Draco was radiating tension and he narrowed his eyes at Sirius.

“Sirius,” Harry said, his tone warning. Sirius’ frown looked something like a pout.

“Teasing the little Malfoy git is all I’ve got, Harry,” he explained defensively. “The only thing better than that is torturing Snivellus, but I’m not able to do that anymore.” He frowned and sniffed. “Remus never really approved of it, anyway.”

“Draco, it’s all right,” Harry said quietly to him. The train whistled again and it echoed throughout Harry’s head. Draco shook his head but didn’t look at Harry. His eyes flashed with fear and anguish.

“Don’t you see, Harry?” Draco whispered, effectively ignoring Sirius as he could. “There’s no one to pull me back this time. No one to send me back.” He turned to Harry. “You can still go back. I can only move on.” His eyes were glassy from tears but he did not cry. Instead, Draco simply leaned in and pressed his lips softly to Harry’s mouth.

Harry kissed him back and grasped his hand again, his grip tight and protective. He did not want Draco to stay back. He wouldn’t allow it. He would fight with all his strength to make sure Draco came back with him.

“Oh, bollocks,” Sirius said suddenly. Draco, shocked, pulled away from Harry and shot a glare at the his cousin. Sirius sounded mildly miffed but appeared pleased. “I suppose Remus and I are square then.” He gave a long-suffering sigh and shook his head.

“What are you talking about?” Harry asked, suddenly aware that he had no real insight as to what it’s like to be dead. Sirius smiled.

“James would never have imagined. He’d have thought it a terrifying joke or something,” Sirius went on, nostalgic. “You and a Malfoy, Harry. The world must be coming to an end…” He shrugged and Harry frowned. Draco was giving Sirius a look that seemed to suggest he was seriously considering having Sirius committed to St Mungo’s in the Janus Thickey Ward.

“Er,” Harry began, for lack of anything better to say.

“You needn’t worry,” Sirius went on. “Either of you.” He pursed his lips at the sight of Draco for a moment before shrugging again. “You’re both going back. Death no longer has any claim on you, as you are now. At least not until it’s really time.”

Harry’s mouth fell open before a slow smile drew itself on his lips. He squeezed Draco’s hand again and glanced at him. The blond was staring, dumbstruck and clearly confused, at Sirius.

“You may want to close your mouth, Malfoy,” Sirius said with a mite of a sneer. “There are no flies here, but if you get into the habit of leaving your gob open they’ll swarm it.”

Draco’s jaw snapped shut and he glared at the man before them. Harry chuckled softly. Sirius never changed, he supposed, and it was both reassuring and sad to realize that he never could.

“What do you mean Death has no claim on us ‘as we are now’?” Draco asked, ever more perceptive than Harry. “What’s changed? What have we done that made Death give up after twenty years?”

Sirius paused and stared at him.

“Bloody hell,” he murmured. “Why did I have to get the one with all the questions?” He rubbed his temples. “Death has no claim on you now, because the Grim only hunted your marked souls. Your souls are no longer marked, therefore Death cannot stalk you as He did before.”

Harry’s smile refused to dampen and he only felt relief wash over him. He didn’t really care about the details, as long as it meant that he and Draco were free to keep on living without interruption. Draco, it seemed, disagreed.

“And how is it our souls are no longer marked?” Draco asked pointedly. He had a Hermione-ish look about him when she was trying to get Ron to figure something out for himself. “Has there been some kind of metaphysical cleaning charm performed on them?” The sarcasm was obvious but Sirius considered it.

“Well, in a way, I suppose that’s it,” Sirius explained without clarifying. Draco frowned. “You see, your souls are clean and unmarked now, but it wasn’t a ‘cleaning’ charm that did it.” He studied them both for a moment. “I’m bollocks at the theoretical business but, well, you said the words, didn’t you?” Harry and Draco both stared, mildly confused. “The words you could not stop yourself from saying that illustrated your opposite nature to each other?” Then Harry understood. Sirius was referring to the explanations they had given Dean. Draco was Harry’s sky. Harry was Draco’s earth. Draco nodded absently. “That triggered the incantation, you see. Then you mixed blood and tears with spirit to complete the spell.” He searched their faces for understanding. “That’s why you both ended up here together, rather than in your own respective otherworlds.”

Harry looked up at Draco, who looked back at him. Harry wasn’t sure he understood but he knew that something had changed. He felt his affection, his love for Draco overwhelm him every time his eyes fell on the blond. From the look in Draco’s eyes, he felt the same way.

“What spell did we cast?” Draco asked softly, turning back to Sirius.

“Well,” Sirius began, a hint of a knowing smile on his lips. “The spell is ancient magic that has been eradicated from all records of the living, so no asking Hermione to look it up for you.” Harry chuckled. “But you’ve ultimately cast a bonding spell.”

“Like a marriage?” Harry asked, mildly shocked. “An Unbreakable Vow?”

Sirius shook his head.

“This is magic older than that,” he went on. Harry laced his fingers with Draco’s. When their palms met, he felt heat and power rush through the touching point. “You’ve bonded your souls to one another.” Harry and Draco both gasped quietly, confused and mildly concerned. “When you spoke the words and mixed blood, tears and spirit, you offered each other a part of yourself in the most literal way. You fused yourself to the other and, as a result, permanently changed your souls.” Sirius seemed mildly pleased that he was managing to explain it all. “Death no longer has claim on you because both of your souls are entirely new, entirely different and yet the same as they were before.” He laughed softly. “You saved each other with love.”

Harry laughed softly. He supposed he always knew that Draco would change him unlike anyone else could. He just never imagined how deeply that change could run.

“There is one small catch,” Sirius added hesitantly. Harry furrowed his brows and Draco took a step closer to him. Sirius smiled apologetically. “Now that your souls are bound, your lives are also bound.” He swallowed. “Which means that when one of you dies, so will the other. Your time is connected.” Sirius tilted his head in a doglike move. “To make up for Death missing out on two souls, when you both die, he gets more than two. In a sense, you are, together, two and a half souls.” He thought for a moment. “The Muggles say something like ‘the whole is worth more than the sum of its parts’…which I suppose is why the rule was built into the spell.”

Harry turned sharply to Draco, looking deep into his eyes. He felt the same rush of love but also concern. He would die when Draco did? Or, more importantly, Draco would die the moment Harry did? He knew that the wizarding world was not quite as dangerous as it had been when Voldemort was around, but there were still people who were willing to kill and, as Dean Thomas had illustrated, there were those who were intent on killing Draco. Harry was an Auror. Perhaps not a very good one, but that was even worse. If he was called on a case, he would have to put his life on the line and, unless he could improve, he might bring Draco down with him.

Draco seemed less perturbed by the information than he was, but still there was fear. Then, as Harry watched, something dawned in Draco’s eyes and he smiled.

“How do we get back to Life, then?” Draco asked Sirius. Harry turned back to him and knew, right then, that this was goodbye. He smiled at Sirius and nodded his head to his godfather.

“I miss you, Sirius,” Harry informed him quietly. Sirius smiled, trying to reassure Harry with happiness.

“Life is but a dream for the dead, Harry,” he whispered. “I’ll always be where you can find me. In your dreams.”

“So to get back to Life,” Harry began quietly, looking into Draco’s eyes. “We only need to go back to sleep.”

Harry watched Draco’s eyelids fall and blinked in that same moment. When his eyes opened again, he was standing in the cellar of Malfoy Manor, surrounded by cold and dampness, the unconscious bodies of Dean Thomas and Astoria Greengrass, along with –

“Papa!”

“Harry!”

Harry and Draco turned slowly to the two voices. Harry realized that everything he saw was slightly different than he remembered it. The cold was lighter but more real. The darkness was in shades of blue and purple, not in black. He looked down at Scorpius and saw that his hair was a slightly yellower blond than Draco’s. Ginny’s hair was straight, as it had always been, but there was a slight curl to the tips and the roots, as though it grew against its own nature.

“You’re both back, thank Merlin!” Ginny cried, releasing Scorpius so the little boy could assault his father with hugs. Draco bent down to scoop up his son and held fast to him, pouring out all his love. Harry smiled as he watched them, missing his own children but knowing he would see them again. He turned to Ginny in time to be pulled into a hug.

He was slightly shocked but hugged her back briefly.

“Ginny,” he said quietly. “What –?”

“I finally realized just how off Dean was,” she admitted sadly. “I mean, he kept going on as though we were young again and, at first I though it was just nostalgia. Then he said something about Voldemort and how it wasn’t right was he was doing to Muggleborns and how he was afraid you had defected to the dark side…” She took a deep breath. “I figured it out, I guess. Just far too late. I came here because he kept going on about Malfoy Manor and doing everything in his power to ensure that the Malfoys could never get it back… then I heard him and Astoria talking about how they would be together after this,” Ginny took a moment to glare at Astoria’s limp frame. “And I realized I had been a fool and that I needed to do something. I needed to help you and… make up for some small part of the trouble and pain I’ve caused you.”

Harry listened to her and then smiled and hugged her again.

“I promise I won’t take the children from you, Harry,” she added quietly. “That was just… stupid and ridiculous and…” She suppressed some anger she had for herself. “No. They are your children and you have been a wonderful father. I’m sorry.”

“Thank you, Gin,” Harry said, filled with a tearful happiness. He felt free again. He glanced over at Draco who was still hugging his son tightly and his heart swelled with love again. “Thank you.”

Ginny followed his eyes and then sighed softly. It was not a sad noise, nor a disappointed one. It was a thoughtful one.

“I guess I was right,” she admitted. “He really was the only one who could ever save you. I wish I knew how he did it.”

Draco looked up at them and smirked over Scorpius’ shoulder.

“We saved each other,” he explained, looking directly into Harry’s eyes. Harry’s lips spread wide in a grin.

Draco’s eyes were bright and full of light.

-----

Author's Note: AHH so last chapter of action. FINAL chapter/Epilogue is next and hopefully will be up pretty soon. I hope you liked it! I tried to think of a good way to fix their little 'death' problem and I think I like this. It's a little bittersweet but I like it that way. And I felt the need to redeem Ginny just a little bit. I don't know if I really managed, but yeah. :D Next chapter will have Quidditch and SMEX. Good way to end things, I think, hehehehe.

I LOVE you all! ALL my reviewers and everyone who has followed me through this and put up with my insanity! SERIOUSLY! *hugs and love and cookies and cake to all of you* :D