The Room of Hidden Things
When Harry's dream takes him to the Room of Requirement, he finds himself anticipating Dream Draco's presence and finds that he knows just where to find him. Sure enough, he comes across Draco, standing with one hand pressed against the door of the Vanishing Cabinet. Draco glances at him, but doesn't say anything, so Harry looks around until he finds Ravenclaw's Diadem, sitting just where he knew it would be.
“That's what you were looking for during the Battle of Hogwarts. I never understood why it was important.”
Harry smiles wryly. “It was important because this little thing contained a piece of Voldemort's soul. If we wanted to have any hope of destroying him for good, we had to destroy this first.”
Dracos eyebrows furrow. “The Dark Lord had something like that and just left it sitting in here?”
“He was arrogant. He didn't think anyone would be able to find this place, and if they were, this room is an utter mess.”
A few beats of silence pass between them and then Dracos hand falls from the cabinet door. “Part of me is glad that this room is nothing but ash. Or at least, this iteration of the room. Even just being back here in dreams makes my skin crawl.”
Harry's eyes fall to Draco's forearm, covered with long sleeves as always, as the other boy scratches it absently.
“Can I see it?” Harry suddenly finds himself asking.
Draco turns a confused look in his direction. “See what?”
“The Dark Mark.”
At that, Draco freezes and pulls his sleeve down even further. “Why in the world would you want to look at that ugly thing?”
Harry shrugs. “Curiosity I guess. I spent most of sixth year utterly convinced you'd taken it, even when everyone around me thought I was crazy for it. And then once I was able to prove I was right, it turned out that you hadn't wanted to take it all. I never knew what to think of you.”
Theres a strange look in Draco's eyes as he asks, “And what do you think of me now?”
“Well, I think these dreams are pretty telling, I guess.” A complicated look passes over Draco's face.
“Potter, why did you walk into the Forbidden Forest during the Battle of Hogwarts. You knew Voldemort was a liar, he wouldn't have stopped the attack just because you gave yourself up, and yet you went in there anyway.”
Harry turns away to pick up the diadem again and walks over to Draco with it. “Because I was like this diadem. If we wanted to have any hope of destroying him for good, I had to die.”
“But you didn't.”
“I did. Just, not for very long. There were a few other objects like this diadem, like me. That's what Dumbledore was doing most of sixth year, trying to find them. One of them is the reason he was already dying.”
“Did he know?” Draco suddenly asks.
Harry cocks his head at him. “Know what?”
“About all of it! How you were treated at home, the fact that you had to… to die, any of it.”
Harry huffs lightly and it's an effort to not sound a tad bitter as he replies, “Of course he knew. My first Hogwarts letter was addressed specifically to the cupboard under the stairs. I only learned I had to die through a memory of him telling Snape. He knew everything.”
“And he was just okay with all of it?”
Harry shrugs. “Dumbledore had it all figured out. He knew exactly what needed to happen and he did everything he could to make sure it all went according to plan.”
“And you're not mad about it?”
“What's the use in being angry with the dead. Everything worked out just about as alright as it could have, so honestly, I'd rather just move on from the whole thing.”
“You're allowed to be angry, Harry.”
It feels like a shock to the system, Draco Malfoy calling him by his first name. Harry just smiles his first genuine smile of the night, finding himself feeling oddly comforted by the conversation. “Why do you want me to be upset about it?”
“Because you were put through hell and you deserve to feel something about that!”
“Then I guess it's a good thing I have you to be angry for me.”
Harry's at breakfast the next morning, barely paying attention to the conversation around him as he eats, when suddenly Ron smacks him upside the head. Harry chokes slightly on his food and rubs the back of his head.
“Merlin, what did you do that for?”
But Ron doesn't answer him, instead it's Hermione that states, “You had another one of those dreams last night, didn't you?”
Harry feels himself flush lightly. “What makes you think that?”
“Because you've been staring at Malfoy all morning, “ Ron grumbles. “It's creeping us out, mate.”
“Honestly Harry, I think you should go see a healer about this.”
“I'm fine! The dreams are fine! Nothing really ever happens in them, we just talk!”
Hermione gives him a serious look. “The issue is that it seems like you're beginning to confuse dreams for reality. You keep looking at Draco as if you really know him, as if you care about him, but you don't. If they really are just dreams, then you can't go around expecting him to be the same out here in the real world. And if they aren't just dreams, then that's an entirely separate issue, for which you should still probably see a healer.”
“I appreciate the concern, but I really am fine. I know they're just dreams. Look, I'll try to be less weird about Draco and I promise I'll go see at the very least Madame Pomfrey if I get another weird dream, alright?”
Ron and Hermione share a deeply concerned look.
“What?” Harry asks, getting a little put out by their behavior.
“You just called him Draco.” Ron says slowly.
Harry's cheeks flush again. “So? ‘Mione calls him Draco!”
“Sure, but you don't.” Hermione says.
“Honestly, I'm fine! I know the difference between dreams and reality, I know that I'm just coping or whatever, its fine!”
Both Ron and Hermione wear twin expressions of doubt, but Harry ignores them as he shovels down the rest of his food and leaves the Great Hall.