Always Remember

I.

The nightmare is the same every night.

I'm standing in the middle of the empty Death Chamber, alone, until Billingsgate is standing in front of me with a sinister smile. I know that I'm supposed to be afraid of him, even more afraid when he lifts his wand to point it straight at me. But in that second, when my vision focuses on the point of his wand, then refocuses on him, it's not Billingsgate anymore. It's Draco. His eyes are blank but his face is stuck in a horrifying expression, twisted into a cry. I try to talk to him, tell him everything will be okay because that face he's making breaks my heart, but I have no voice. No matter how hard I try to scream for him, no sound comes out. I try to scream so hard that I close my eyes, but when I open them again, Draco is not there anymore. Another figure stands in his place. The figure is still pointing his wand at me, smiling. He whispers an unidentifiable word, like it's in an unfamiliar language, and pain starts to course through my veins like fire. I realize in horror that this feeling is familiar, and so is the man. I stare up at the figure as he laughs while I writhe in pain. I've seen him before. I know him. I know him...

But when I wake up the details blur again and all familiarity leaves. I don't remember what the man looked like anymore and I don't remember what the pain felt like. The details are lost in the dream.

I open my eyes and find that I still feel exhausted. My throat is sore, I must have been screaming in my sleep again. I roll over and look at the clock. Four in the morning. I groan. I know I can sleep for two more hours and still make it to the Ministry on time but I know I won't be able to relax after the nightmare. The blurry part in my memory, the part of the dream I can't remember, haunts me the most.

I get out of bed and walk straight to my kitchen. My new flat is empty, some of my old decorations and furniture scattered around, but I don't have enough to fill this place up. It's bigger than my last one. I start the coffee machine and stare absentmindedly as the coffee pours into my cup.

After Draco showed me the memories that were erased in the Pensieve is when the nightmares started. It wasn't terrible at first, but they've gotten worse over time. It keeps me up at night, it wakes me up out of sleep. I feel like I'm deteriorating with exhaustion. My head aches constantly, I always feel a bit weak, but my new position as Head of the Muggle-Worthy Excuse Committee demands work whether I'm tired or not. I've worked hard to get here, I can't rest now.

The coffee machine quietly shuts down and I pick up the cup, letting it warm my hands. Something about this new flat is so cold and it makes me miss staying with Hermione and Ron. After Billingsgate was taken to Azkaban, they found the time to plan a wedding and I knew then that I had to move out. Obviously, they'd want their alone time although they politely argued that it wasn't a problem that I stayed with them. I packed all the rest of my belongings from my old flat and moved it to my new one. I was still adjusting.

I took a long gulp of the coffee, hoping that the caffeine would work wonders on me. But it never does. I sigh, looking around the dark room that's only slightly illuminated by twilight. I don't know why I hadn't bothered to turn on the light but suddenly it reminds me of the dark figure in my dream. I'm staring into the unknown, the dark spot in the corner of the room when I see it. I see him. The dark figure from my dream. I can't make out any facial features but he's there, just standing and staring at me. I reach for my waist, to grab my wand, but I realize that I've left it in my room. My heart starts to beat loudly in my chest. He just stands there, unmoving. Does he realize that I see him standing there? My eyes flash over to the lightswitch. If I move, will he hurt me? I watch him for a moment before I drop my cup, letting it shatter onto the ground, and rush forward to flip the switch. I look back to where the figure stood but the space was empty. It was always empty. I laugh, then cry. I sob as the spilled coffee soaked into my socks, I sob at the realization that I was going crazy.