BLIND SIGHT - drarry

Ch. twentythree

Interlude: This is an interlude that takes place a few months after Draco gets to Hawaii.

Draco wanted to leave, to turn around and storm out of the room, but he couldn't. He wasn't sure if it was a sense of obligation, or how sticky the floor beneath his feet was.

"Isn't this amazing," Charlie half-shouted in his ear over the thumping music.

It was the floor.

"Yeah, Charles. It's amazing."

Draco wasn't sure what had convinced him to go along with Charlie, but he cursed it under his breath as the red head dragged him through the crowd. People pressed in on him on every side, his ears rang with the loud, thumping music playing around him, and the air was thick with the smell of fog machine vapor and cigarette smoke.

Draco tugged on Charlie's hand, pulling his friend closer to him. "Can we go now? You proved your point, I needed to get out more. I got out, and now I want to go home."

The red head shouted over the music. "Come on, we only just got here. One drink, one dance."

Draco tried to reply, but before he had a chance Charlie was pulling him onward, and he had to focus to keep hold of the other man's hand. He couldn't bring Bogart to the club, and there was no room for his cane in the crush, so Charlie was Draco's only anchor.

It wasn't the first time Draco had gone to a dance club. In the weeks he and Blaise had spent at Grimmaud Place the two of them, along with the Golden Gryffindors, had made a few clandestine trips to gay and straight dance clubs in muggle London. It wasn't even the first time he'd been to a night club blind. Hamilton House was very thorough in it's practical training, Draco had made sure of that when he chose the place, but their outings were more dignified, the group of patients going from the door straight to a VIP room where they could socialize and enjoy the music without being overwhelmed. This experience...

"Draco? Draco!"

Draco as shocked out of his reverie as he felt the red heads breath against his face. He could tell from the pressure that Charlie was yelling, but with the music as loud as it was he could still barely hear the man.

"Draco... ... ... ...dance ... this bloke. ... you to ... table. Come with-"

Charlie paused and Draco could feel him shift and turn away. He felt Charlie's fingers slipping out of his own and he reached out for the red head's hand but he couldn't find it and the bodies around him pressed in closer.

"Charlie? Charlie!"

Even through the music Draco could hear the edge of hysteria in his voice. He forced himself to calm down. Panic wouldn't help him, it would only make things worse.

Straining his senses he tried to find Charlie. He knew what the red head was wearing, his cologne, the sound of his voice, but in the dizzying maelstrom of sounds and scents he was lost.

Up until this point Draco's nightmares had been of complete solitude and silence in an ink black featureless void. He wondered if there would be a replacement for that terror now.

He was jostled from side to side as the crowd around him surged. The music grew louder and Draco could feel the heat of lights on his skin. It seemed to get hotter and hotter and Draco couldn't get his bearings. He reached out again, trying to find Charlie, trying to find a way out, off of the dance floor. He knew from Charlie's description that the dance floor was in the middle of a larger room and he could get to the edge, get out if he tried, but it seemed like every time he took a step the crowd pushed him back.

Draco felt someone grab his outstretched hand and he clasped it tightly, thanking the gods silently that Charlie had come back.

"Hey man, are you okay?"