Chapter 9
By Monday that feeling was gone.
Draco had spent the entire weekend experimenting with his formula, making adjustments until he felt it was perfect - all with Lily's ghost invading his personal space.
But when he arrived at the office Monday morning, he was wracked with nerves. If this went wrong, if his calculations were even slightly off, who knew what might happen to Potter? And by extension, what might happen to Draco?
He gulped down his fear along with his morning tea and made his way to Luna's door, game face on.
"It's ready," he informed his eccentric colleague. Today her ears were adorned with singing rutabagas that changed colour along with her mood. He hoped yellow meant he'd caught her in a good one.
"Brilliant!" She beamed, and Draco let himself relax a little. He led the way back to the lab where he walked Luna through his potion one last time before plucking a hair out of her head and popping it into the vial.
"So, now I sleep and you drink, and I dream, and you'll be there?" she confirmed.
"That's the gist of it," Draco shrugged. "Of course, you won't sense my presence. It's unlike legilimency in that way." With a nod, Luna grabbed a handful of what looked like pink sand from the lab, marched into the small bedroom Draco had first been set up in and got comfortable on the bed. With a sprinkle of the fairy dust over her face, she was asleep. The stars on the ceiling shone brightly down on her as her breathing slowed.
Draco took a seat in the observation room and sipped the potion. When he felt his eyes begin to droop, he lay his head down on the table in front of him.
Twenty minutes later, Draco was up with a jolt. The dream had been slow to start, and Draco's head felt as though it were full of molasses. But there was no doubt about it. It had worked.
Luna had chosen a memory to hide away in her subconscious and his goal had been to find it. Draco hadn't known what it would be beforehand.
"It was the day your mother died," Draco said softly when he heard her come in. She placed a hand on his shoulder and took a seat next to him. "Yes, not one I like to revisit. But you found it," she said, pulling out a bar of chocolate from her robes and handing him a piece.
Her earrings were a deep blue, but Draco could see a spot of colour a shade lighter spreading out from the middle of the one closest to him. They swayed as she shook her head and made a sound like wind chimes. As they sat and shared the chocolate between them, they discussed the next phase of the plan.
That night, Draco prepared himself with a meditation he'd learned from his last mind healer, scanning his body from feet to head, flexing his muscles and wiggling his fingers along the way before melting into his mattress. Everything was going according to plan.
Draco had snuck back into his old office at lunch and pinched a hair off of Potter's Auror robes, slung over Granger's desk chair just like he'd known they'd be, while the two were off on their break.
He had performed his nighttime rituals, done his mind healing exercises, fed his kneazle, and drank the potion after settling in under the covers.
As soon as his eyes closed, Draco found himself transported. He was in a dark tunnel, bright white light coming in from one end. Did everyone's dreams include some sort of reference to death? he wondered. A blink and the light was replaced by a train.
In the next moment, Draco was aboard the Hogwarts Express, sitting in a cabin in his school robes. A little girl was sitting directly across from him, staring out the window in wonder. Draco followed her gaze, taking in the Scottish Highlands. The view was as marvelous as he remembered.
Wait a minute, he thought to himself. I'm not in school. I'm an adult. I'm an adult on a mission. What was it?
"Jess! We're almost there!" Another girl squealed in delight, rushing into the cabin and pulling the girl, Jess, away from the window. "Do you think Harry Potter will be there?" Jess asked quietly.
"Of course!" Her friend answered excitedly. And then Draco remembered. Harry Potter. Of course. But, surely this wasn't Potter's dream? "There's no way Potter's this starved for hero worship," Draco snorted. When he realized he'd spoken aloud he froze, waiting for a reaction from the children. When none came, he relaxed. Now how to get out of this dream...
Draco stuck around a bit longer, watching the girl go from giddy to terrified when the train transformed into a monstrous creature and tried to eat her and her friends. Harry Potter, of course, came to the rescue.
With a sigh, Draco muttered his fail-safe phrase to exit the little girl's unconscious. He awoke in his bed to daylight streaming in through his window and Lily's ghost perched silently in a chair next to him.
"It wasn't his dream," he told her with regret. "It must have been a child's hair on his robes. Someone he rescued on a mission, most likely. I'm sorry." Lily's ghost just gave him a sad smile before drifting out of the room.
With renewed fervour, he got out of bed and began his day. He was determined to get it right next time.
Of course, expectations and reality rarely align, and Draco's next two attempts to enter Potter's dreams were also misfires. One had been Granger's dream, which Draco was quick to exit once Weasley made an appearance. And the other was the rather unpleasant dream of a newly caught death eater who had been on the run since Voldemort was defeated. Draco was quick to pull the memory of that dream out of his head. He wasn't fond of the practice, and used it sparingly, but he had enough nightmares of his own brain's design to contend with and felt greatly relieved when the memory was gone.
Weeks passed before Draco tried to get another hair from Potter. He wasn't yet sure how he would accomplish the task, but he was damned sure it wouldn't be off of his robes.
His opportunity finally came on New Year's Eve.
"Are you sure you won't come, Draco? Everyone will miss you."
Draco doubted that. Luna's New Year's Eve parties were always full of bleeding heart Gryffindors and worse, his own pompous colleagues from Mysteries. He supposed there would be more of his old crowd now that Blaise was part of the equation, but he'd already made up his mind.
"No, thank you, Luna. Like I said, I've already got plans." It wasn't exactly a lie. He did have plans of a sort. Drinking port and reading a book in the company of his evil kneazle was technically a plan. After the disastrous Christmas he'd had with his parents, it was a downright delightful plan, even.
"Well, if you change your mind," she said melodically, offering him a cheerful smile. Draco returned the grin with a poorly concealed grimace. He hated the holidays. Luna laughed. "Or not. Although...Harry will be there, you know."
"How nice for him."
"Might be nice for his mum, too. If she got to see him there? Anyway, just an idea. Give my love to Martin!" With a jaunty wave, Luna stepped into the floo and was whisked away from her office, leaving Draco alone with his guilt. He looked to Lily's ghost, relieved she was in the room. She had been fading more and more as of late. At the hopeful expression on her face, Draco sighed.
"Well, come along then. I'm sure Martin will enjoy having the flat to himself," he muttered in defeat. He didn't want to think about what chaos his spoiled kneazle would wreak in his absence.