In My Dreams [Draco Malfoy]

chapter eighteen: a haunting reality

INDIGO

At first, it didn't look like Hogwarts, though there was nowhere else it could be. Even in this darkness, I could see the faint twinkling of the star chart swimming over the walls like they were the result of a strobe light at a nightclub. There were numerous stargazing devices that had been tucked into the shelves, and shoved into neglected corners, and the likelihood of a room such as this existing anywhere outside of the Astronomy Tower was a figure my mind couldn't comprehend.

But I had the undeniable sense that something was deeply wrong.

It should have been like any other summer night. The trees were too lively to be any other time of year but the tower was cast in an antifreeze green light. I knew what the source of it was before my vision answered the question for me, and my heart subconsciously dropped into my stomach. It was then that I saw it: a picture of a snake slithering in and out of a skull's mouth cast into the sky—the Dark Mark. You could see it clearly from this high up, but that wasn't what caught my eye.

Albus Dumbledore sat on the step, looking towards the entrance of the tower with a calm expression on his face. I didn't miss how haggard and frail he looked, nor the blackened and crumpled hand he was cradling to his chest. It must have hurt terribly, but his attention was on the figure who had just walked up the stairs.

It was a man, no doubt, tall, thin and broad. Though, maybe he wasn't quite old enough to be considered "a man." Something about him seemed younger than that. I didn't see his face but I saw the Dark Mark branded into his left forearm and caught a mere glimpse of the fear in his grey eyes. Whoever he was, he was a Death Eater and he didn't want to do this. Or perhaps he simply feared failing Voldemort  more than he feared what he had to do. But what was he doing?

The scene unfolded in rapid flashes. They went back and forth speaking for what must have been several minutes. I couldn't hear what was being said, but I saw how Dumbledore was looking at him, as though he were young. No, not just young. He spoke to him like a frightened baby animal, backed into a corner. Then, there was a burst of green light and Dumbledore, who was now standing, went tumbling back. A part of me wanted to look away but I couldn't help watching, wide-eyed and helpless as he went over the ledge and plummeted down to the ground below—

My eyes opened to a lamp-lit compartment on the Hogwarts Express. I was nauseated and a cold sweat had settled over my skin but, before I could stop to think, I scrambled for my bag. I would have to jot down the details before I forgot and I knew better than to wait. I pulled out my dream book and a ballpoint pen, and began to write

Astronomy Tower, Dark Mark in the sky, Albus Dumbledore, hand, figure with grey eyes kills him.

I couldn't believe it. Someone was going to try killing Albus Dumbledore, and they might actually succeed. It seemed impossible to me. If I hadn't seen it for myself, I might have accused anyone to suggest it of being absurd. Dumbledore was one of the most powerful sorcerers to have ever lived, for someone to just walk up and kill him...

Then again... I thought. Dumbledore is an old man. A powerful man, but an old man all the same. Unless whatever did that to his hand was making him sick. Maybe he was—

I caught myself starting to speculate and shook my head, trying to bid it all away. Everyone knew that Dumbledore was an outspoken opposer of Voldemort. He had gone against Grindelwald back in the day and he went against Voldemort now. It was only inevitable that a choice like that would have consequences, and it really shouldn't be that big of a surprise that something like this could happen, no matter what I had been led to think about him.