The Dream Trilogy Book Two: Tread On My Dreams (A Harry Potter FanFiction)

Chapter Twenty One

Chapter Song: Dream On by Depeche Mode

Chapter Image by Visenya @ TDA

 

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Chapter Twenty One

Draco Malfoy ran through the driving rain as fast as his shaking legs would take him. A ferocious storm crashed about his head as he turned down the dilapidated road and pelted towards the house at the very end of the drive. The last streetlamp was dead, and if he hadn't of known it was there, he might never have found it. The terraced houses loomed in the November night, barely a light was on and the shadows danced and leapt about the place as lightening pierced the sky. Chest numb and gulping down air, Draco practically fell on the peeling wooden door frame and began pounding on it with all that remained of his strength. He almost didn't stop as the door was heaved open, but once he caught sight of who was on the other side he stumbled backwards, out once more into the rain. He shielded his eyes from the glare of the lights, having been wrapped in the night time for so long.  

"Draco Malfoy?" came the voice from inside, it's owner a mere silhouette against the light coming from the torches on the walls. "What, may I ask, are you doing here?" 

Draco stumbled back a pace and grabbed onto the wreck of a satchel that hung about his neck. "Professor...please," he gasped, rain running into his mouth as he spoke. "I don't know what to do, please, you've got to help me." 

Severus Snape stepped out from his rather poorly furnished hallway and onto the porch. He folded his arms and looked Draco up and down. "Help you how, Mr Malfoy?" 

Draco looked up at him through licks of painfully blond hair plastered to his face and clutched at his ragged bag. His trousers were sodden with mud and his cloak had caught at one end, making it fray badly. "They...killed her," he stammered.  

Snape's face wore the same pinched expression as always. If he already knew of his mother's death or if it was a complete surprise to him, Draco couldn't tell. "I am sorry for your loss," he said eventually. "But I cannot do anything for you now except offer my condolences. She was a good woman," he added with a hint of a smile. 

"No," said Draco desperately, stepping up towards the porch again and pushing dripping hair from his eyes. "No she said, if anything were to happen to her, she said to go to you, that you'd help, that I could trust you."  

The words had been etched into Draco's mind since the moment they'd left his mother's lips over a year ago. He'd been so appalled at the idea that anything could happen to her, that one day she might be taken away from him, he'd been left with a residual and powerful nausea anytime he thought about it. She had never repeated herself, nor elaborated on what she'd meant, but the words had never faded. 

Which is how he found himself standing outside the front door of Severus Snape's house in the middle of the night, during a thunder storm, having been on the run for four days straight. 

Since the moment he saw Voldemort murder his mother right in front of his eyes. 

"I was your mother's friend," conceded Snape. "But what is done is done, it is not for us to question The Dark Lord's will." 

At that Draco jumped right back up onto the porch. "No," he growled, his voice hoarse from dehydration and lack of sleep. "No, she told me, she said 'Severus is leading the way', there's a resistance isn't there? The botched missions, the missing Death Eaters, I'm not stupid!" He was shivering but for the first time in four days he didn't feel numb anymore. "They try and cover it up but there's been rumours, Blaise said her dad got her a message from Oslo, that there are cells waiting to strike. She wanted to help." He squared up to his old potions professor, rain water dripping on the old wooden floorboards. "And so do I." Snape looked him up and down, and Draco took a deep breath. "So if you know how I can do that...you will tell me."