The Summer That Changed Everything ⤘ DRARRY

T W O

Draco awoke, shooting upright in his bed. He gasped from the nightmare he had been having, the same one for the past two months. He recalled every detail he could remember from the awful dream, none of it made since. Every time he dreamt it, it became even more vivid, and twisted. It confused him every time thought about it.

While in the dream, he was in a manor of sorts, simply walking down a hall. The hall was never very long, and was rather bland. No decorations of any sort. Just a plain, deteriorating hall. But at the very end, where walls meet, is a mirror. It was tall, taking up most of the wall it hung on. However, he never saw himself in the mirror. Instead, he saw Potter. At first, he just stood there, tall and overly proud, like always.

But over time, he slowly became more… What was the right word... damaged? Terrified-looking? He slowly developed bruises every here and there, and sometimes a chunk or two of his hair would go missing. His eyes went from their normal, proud look, to a look that screamed ‘help me’. But everytime Draco had the dream, it became worse and worse. 

He didn’t know why it bothered him so much, or why it was the boy who lived visiting him in his dreams. It was unnerving. He pushed off the sheets, sitting up so he could look around the room. It took him a moment to gain his surroundings.

I’m still here…

He was tired of this house, and he had only been here five, maybe six hours (if you were to count the hours he was asleep). 

Draco decided that, since he was being forced to live in the place, he might as well explore. He silently jumped down from the bed, and crept over towards the door. He grabbed the handle, turning it silently. The door opened with a creak, but nothing loud enough to wake anyone up. Loud snores filled the hall, Draco assumed it was coming from the room on the opposite end of the hall. Draco walked, quietly looking around. 
He was astounded to find that there were no portraits of Potter. He had assumed that his family would praise him, showing him off.

But where were the pictures of him? He stopped when he finally found one. It was of the entire family. But while the man, woman, and child stood together, smiling with arms wrapped around each other, Potter stood off to the side.

He didn’t smile, he didn't even look at the camera. He stared at the floor instead.

This made Draco wonder. Wonder why he was off to the side. Wonder why his clothes were so baggy on him. Wonder why he didn't look like he was enjoying himself, like his family was.

He was broken out of thought when something sounded from downstairs. 
Something that sounded like the taping of glass. He looked towards the stairs, cautiously walking towards them. He knew he should go back to his room. He knew that was the safest option. But the curiosity got the better of him.

Slowly, he crept down the stairs and began to look around. It wasn't too dark, but dark enough for Draco to accidentally stub his toe on something. There was a light on in the kitchen, and a munching sound. He walked over to the kitchen and stopped in the doorway, surprised by what he saw.
The son's fat hand was stuffed into the top of a jar. When he saw Draco standing  in the doorway, he froze and whipped his hand out of the jar. The porcelain jar wriggled in its spot, nearly falling off the counter. The boy swallowed whatever was in his mouth, and stared at him with a sour look.

"What are you doing up?" He hissed.

Draco eyed him for a moment. He could tell him to screw off and mind his own business. Or he could tell him the truth as to why he was up. But since he didn't even know the boy's name, he decided against both of them.

"I could ask you the same question." The two boys stared at each other for a moment more. Draco folded his arms and began to tap his foot. "What's your name?" Draco asked, raising a brow.