Professor Black: A Reader Insert

38. A Dragon's Revelations

His heart was beating so fast and his skin felt grossly clammy like he'd fallen into the Black Lake and didn't bother to cleanse himself before dropping into his bed the night before. Pale fingers raked through disheveled blond tresses in a way that lacked all the decorum he prided himself on carrying as his thoughts reeled and tried to make sense of the dream he'd had. This time, it wasn't the death of his most favored that haunted him, no, what had made him jerk awake at this unseemly hour was his whole life playing out through his dreamscape and an impending sense of doom at the thought of failure. Draco saw nothing, felt nothing, other than this dread and a soft aching deep within his mind. The blond was numb and was bathed in the shadows of his room, trapped in the panicked confines of his mind as his body was wracked with furious trembling. Everso faintly he felt comforted. Someone who knows is going to come and help him, the vague taste of very familiar tea and scones was coming to help him. Someone that felt like family was coming as was another that smelled like potions and ink and who didn't know, but feared it too.

Draco didn't move from the trembling ball he'd curled himself into until he was made to by the tea and scones and was placed on her lap as she comforted him and rocked side to side with murmuring that began to ever so slowly make the numbness follow after the trembles.

"I used to believe that he was an angel, he was always so pretty in the dreams even if he was dead." The blond uttered, a feeling in his throat threatening to choke him if he doesn't speak. "I always woke up feeling like I'd lost something very important. Then I met the idiot at Madam Malkins."

He knew that only one of the two that were with him understood just what he was saying, the other was worried sick and painfully confused, but that didn't stop him from continuing.

"I thought that it was a coincidence, then the big hairy giant that was always carrying him in the dream always looked sad while he did, banged on the window with a snowy owl eying him in the cage it was in looking like he was happy. I thought him so silly. Why would everything feel right when the angel was going to die? Then I made my angel hate me. He still does now huh? I deserve it, I keep upsetting him. I just wanted my angel to look at me. Oh, the way he flies. I knew he'd be so good at it, angels always are. But then he kept getting hurt, he doesn't know I visit him when he is. If he knew would he hate me more?"

"No pup, he won't." The one holding him broke the silence the pair had kept around him, breaking the illusion that he was alone.

"Angels tend to feel flattered by that sort of sentiment, Dragon." The other in the room with them spoke a fond note his voice making the taste of honey flood his tongue.

"But things are different now." Draco started, his heart fluttering violently. "Now he won't die, now he's going far away and I can't follow without being suspicious, and what if he finds someone else and refuses me?" 

"Dragon," the blond realizes that the one that smells of ink and potions is his godfather, who was now seated next to his cousin comforting him. "It will be alright."

"He's so small though, what if someone hurts him and I can't defend him?" Draco was flooded with worry and indignation at the thought.

"Draco-" (y/n) started, seeming to stiffen as she tilted her head slightly so she could see the door to Draco's dorm.

"His dignity is one of the few things he has left that hasn't been tainted by greedy hands, I won't stand for that to be molested too!" The teen had cut her off as he tried to franticly make his point.

"Dra-" her tone was firmer like she was trying to shut him up.

"I'll go too. Please, Uncle Sev, please let me help keep Harry safe too. Please, I need to." He reeled around and faced his godfather with a wild desperate gleam in his storm-hued eyes.