The Dream Trilogy Book One: To Dwell On Dreams (A Harry Potter FanFiction)

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Image by the incredible Visenya at The Dark Arts

Chapter Song: No Light No Light bu Florence + The Machine

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Chapter Seventeen

Harry stared from Draco Malfoy, to his companions in the lounge, then back at Draco Malfoy. "Okay," he said, a hint of hysteria setting in. "Are we friends?" 

"Potter," said Malfoy, glancing anxiously around the dimly lit porch. "Please - let me in." He was filthy, which Harry hadn't thought he was capable of being. But there he was, hair dishevelled and skin covered in grime. He clung defensively to the strap of a threadbare satchel slung around his neck. 

"No, seriously," Harry tried again. "Because the day I'm having I honestly couldn't guess either way." 

Malfoy had one foot on the step and one still on the gravel, his body angled like he wasn't sure if he wanted to run away or not. "Please," he said again, his grey eyes wide with apprehension. "Please, I need to talk to you." He ran a hand through his matted hair, rocking between the step and the pathway. "I realise I have no right to ask, I wouldn't be here if it wasn't important. But I need your help." 

Harry looked down at the boy he had always considered his enemy, and thought about how when they'd last spoken in his own world, it had resulted it Malfoy's broken nose. How he'd gloated about Sirius' arrest, delighted in Harry's despair. This Malfoy - this alternate version if Hermione was right - did not have that arrogance pulsating off him. There was hollowness to his eyes, a tension visible in his whole body. 

"Um," said Harry, glancing back to the living room and thinking of Hermione, considering how altered her life was here. What differences could have lead to Draco Malfoy coming to his home, asking for his help in this tattered state? Malfoy looked anxiously over his shoulder again, his hands gripping onto the fraying satchel strap. Harry had no way to know where his loyalties lay in this world; they were dark enough in the life Harry knew. "I don't know," he said. As far as he'd experienced today, nothing was what it should have been. But it just seemed a step too far to trust Draco Malfoy. 

The blond boy on the step wavered back and forth. "I can't," he stammered, then he took a deep breath in. "If you don't help me, hundreds of lives will be at risk." He straightened his spine, and lifted his bottom foot to stand fully on the step. "I know that might sound crazy, but I didn't travel all this way for a 'no'." 

This was more like the Malfoy Harry knew, but his words were still contradictory. "Hundreds of lives?" Harry repeated. 

"Probably more," said Malfoy. His tone was serious. He was still fretting with the bag strap, but he was staring down Harry defiantly. "So are you going to let me in or not?" 

After all the surprises Harry had experienced today, he had to admit he was curious as to what Malfoy was talking about. Since he had woken up, he had tried to convince himself everything he was experiencing was some sort of trick, but Hermione's theory about parallel universes had shaken him through and through. If this was a real world, a reality that ran alongside his own, those lives would be just as real as anybody he knew in is actual life. Surely that was worth hearing Malfoy out for, even if his gut instinct was screaming to tell him to leave.  

Harry reached over to his coat, and got his wand out from the pocket. "Alright," he said cautiously. "I'll let you in. But nothing funny, you understand?" 

Malfoy looked from his face, to his wand and back again. "Okay," he said, with a nod. Harry stepped back, and the two boys watched each other like hawks as Malfoy crossed the threshold and into the Potters' house.