Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Awakening To the Dream	By : ChimaeraChan Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 45316 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-CH1
- 2-CH2
- 3-CH3
- 4-CH4
- 5-CH5
- 6-CH6
- 7-CH7
- 8-Ch8
- 9-Ch9
- 10-Ch10
- 11-CH11
- 12-CH12
- 13-CH13
- 14-CH14
- 15-CH15
- 16-CH16
- 17-CH17
- 18-CH18
- 19-Ch19
- 20-CH20
- 21-CH21
- 22-Ch22
- 23-CH23
- 24-CH24
- 25-CH25
- 26-CH26
- 27-CH27
- 28-CH28
- 29-CH29
- 30-CH30
- 31-CH31
- 32-CH32
- 33-CH33
- 34-CH34
- 35-CH35
- 36-CH36
- 37-CH37
- 38-CH38
- 39-CH39
- 40-CH40
- 41-Ch41
- 42-Ch42
- 43-Ch43
- 44-Ch44
- 45-Ch45
- 46-Ch46
- 47-Ch47
- 48-Ch48
- 49-Ch49
- 50-Ch50 *End Part 1*
- 51-Ch51
- 52-Ch52
- 53-Ch53
- 54-Ch54
- 55-Ch55
- 56-CH56
- 57-CH57
- 58-CH58
- 59-CH59
- 60-CH60
- 61-CH61
- 62-CH62
- 63-CH63
- 64-CH64
- 65-CH65
- 66-CH66
- 67-CH67 *New 6/6/2015*
- 68-CH68
- 69-CH69
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Oh, quick note for JJ's question. Draco would have to have been wounded mortally for their memories to come back. That last breath before the light fades... not just the possibility of death.

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

CH26

“Please, my boy. Worrying yourself into an early grave will do you no good.” Catching the pacing man’s arm, Dumbledore ushered Remus into one of his many cushy chairs and placed a cup of tea in his hands before he could refuse. “I would have been here sooner but I was waylaid by the most persistent owl. She had taken up residence in my hat while I was entranced, and would not let me go until I had read a certain letter.” Sitting down across from Remus, he pulled out a crumpled letter from his robes. “Perhaps you could explain this situation better? What happened to the surveillance on Harry’s house?”
“Please, Albus.” Remus left his tea on a near by desk and sat up straighter. For some reason his legs refused to stay still and he refused to spill any more hot liquid on himself that day. “We can’t find Harry. He sent me a message that he was going to Grimmauld Place; he must have thought Headquarters was still there—We can’t get in! The wards refuse and the floo has been sealed!”
Dumbledore sat back pondering while Remus jumped up and started pacing again.
“I don’t believe our dear Harry would know how to set the wards to let you in. It is his birthday; he must be experiencing some difficulty with his exritus. I think it would be best for you to wait a few days before you start to worry.” Dumbledore said reasonably. “Now, what happened at the house? The Ministry has been howling me about something. I should have realized that the work would back up but I wasn’t expecting the flattening of muggle neighborhoods the instant I awoke.” He reached for a cup of tea, his hat tipping forward and spraying white feathers onto his lap. “I’ve seen signs of the Domin. The Gate has been opened.”
Remus groaned, grabbing his head and growling fiercely at the ground. “They’re working with Voldemort.”
“I feared as much.” Dumbledore sighed. “Tom was always good at convincing things his way.” He took a long sip of his tea and let his eyes fall on the elegant white feather that had landed on his knee. “And young Draco? Has he been bonded?”
“We can’t be a hundred percent sure. The boy’s disappeared off the face of the earth it seems.” He turned desperately to Dumbledore. “He nearly died, Albus. If the Death Eaters hadn’t made a move we never would have even known Harry was in danger. I can’t let him down again!”
Taking pity on him, Dumbledore stood with another flutter of feathers. “Perhaps I have a way to put your mind at ease.” Leading the anxious werewolf out the door and into the Headmaster’s office he stopped at the sleeping portrait of Phineas Nigellus. “Sorry to disturb you Phineas.” Dumbledore said with a faint smile.
“So you’re back.” The false snores immediately stopped. “Things have been going to hell around here without proper supervision. That poltergeist nearly took my paint off.”
“Ah, I will have a thorough talk with Peeves. But first, could I have your assistance? We seem to have misplaced Harry. Would you mind horribly checking the old house? He may have made his way there.”
The portrait sighed, giving Dumbledore a dark glare. “Can’t you keep track of a mere boy? I’m sure he’s off dallying with some young woman; I can’t imagine he’d be visiting that place.”
“I realize this, but if you could merely humor me?” Dumbledore asked, his eyes in full twinkle.
Face twisted in distaste, Phineas gave a grudging nod. “I’ll give it a once over,” Said the painting before disappearing from the frame.
“Now, now, sit with you.” Dumbledore said and pointed Remus to another convenient cushy chair. “Phineas will find him if he’s there but I need to know the accounts of the summer.”
Remus nodded and sat, some of his fear relieved, although he continued to glance over at the empty frame from time to time. “A lot has happened. We’ve had a lot of set backs.”
“Lets start with the letter. What happened to Harry?”
“It was luck, plain and simple.” Remus muttered. “Some god must have been watching out for him because we sure as hell weren’t.”
“And why was that?” Hands folded, Dumbledore peered down his nose, his spectacles gleaming in the torchlight. “We had agreed on wards and at least one person occupying the house on Privet Dr. What could have possibly occurred to change that?”
“Arabella had a stroke. She’s been in a muggle hospital; St. Mungo’s has those damn rules about treating squibs. Mundungus got himself thrown into Azkaban. Oh, he damn well deserved it. He just couldn’t keep his hands in his own pocket.” His voice grew more strained in the silence of the room. “I was following the packs… We didn’t have the people. Everyone was too busy trying to fortify their own houses from the Domin after Consdale and his family were wiped out.”
Dumbledore held up his hand, his eyes narrowed. “Consdale is dead?”
“Yes. It happened over a month ago. They took out the whole neighborhood…” He swallowed thickly. “The same with Privet Dr. If only Snape had…”
Dumbledore gave a heavy sigh. It seemed things had gotten quite complicated. Now more than ever he didn’t regret taking the initiative to secure Hogwarts. The children would need the protection. “Severus has been discovered?”
“Yes. He’s under some sort of enchantment; St. Mungo’s can’t do anything for him. We’ve lost all our information of Voldemort’s plans and it’s such a crucial time! Of all the problems, we had thought at least Harry was safe. The wards were so strong his house didn’t even receive a bump from whatever they used on it. We knew his Uncle had issues but we never imagined… I should have checked on him!”
“Calm yourself. It is past; now is the time to fix it.” Dumbledore said sagely. “You could not have known just as you couldn’t have known with Sirius or Peter. Blaming yourself does nothing but distract you from healing, Remus. It does nothing to help Harry either… Ah, Phineas.” He turned at the portrait’s cough. “Have you found him?”
“Among other things, yes.” Phineas drawled. “He’s in the arrival chamber. I cannot assure that he will live; he is in an awful amount of pain. His exritus, if I am not mistaken.”
“Yes, I’m afraid Harry will have a while before he recovers.”
“Hold it,” Remus interrupted worriedly. “He will live. Why wouldn’t he live? It’s just his exritus!”
Dumbledore pursed his lips. “Should I get you a calming draught?”
“I, uh… no.” Remus sighed, looking away.
“As I was saying,” Phineas shot Remus a glare, “The boy seems to be far more powerful than expected and he’s been physically damaged at some point during the process. He may not be able survive the transformation without assistance.”
At those words Remus appeared to crumple, swaying on his feet. Dumbledore quickly walked around the desk and sat the man down again. “There is no way to get to him?” Dumbledore asked calmly.
“No.” Remus moaned dourly. “We’ve tried for hours. We can’t break through.”
“Perhaps you can convince Harry to open the floo?” Dumbledore directed at Phineas.
“Perhaps, if the boy wasn’t unconscious— I think you should let me finish.” He snapped when Remus started cursing.
“Please, Phineas.” Dumbledore urged him, handing Remus a cup of tea that had been liberally spiked with calming draught. “Drink.”
“He’s not alone.” Phineas smiled grimly once all attention was his again. “Besides the house elves and the naked corpse, there is also the young Malfoy heir residing in the main house.”
“……What!” Remus yelped. At Dumbledore’s stern look he choked down his tea, coughing at the scalding sensation.
“Would you care to elaborate, Phineas?” Dumbledore sighed, pulling up a chair and sitting down heavily. “Starting with the corpse, I think.”
“I only got a glimpse of him. That disgrace of a house elf was in the process of whisking him away when I got there.”
“Do you mean Dobby?”
“I believe that is its name. Had an odd array of socks and hats on, just dreadful.” He sniffed. “I can only guess that the Potter boy killed him while in the throes of pain and the elf was covering up for him.”
“Dear gods, I’m going to hell. Lilly, James and Sirius are going to ridicule me for all eternity.” Remus mumbled, downing the next cup of tea handed to him without objection. “Hazing will be involved, I just know it.”
Dumbledore patted his shoulder kindly and tipped another vial of calming draught into his tea. “Let’s not jump to conclusions just yet. At least Dobby is there to care for Harry. That’s one disaster averted. The Malfoy boy, Phineas; is he well?”
“Asleep. He’s been through the runner but I dare say he’ll be fine in a few days. He has his own house elf doting after him.”
“Alright.” Dumbledore said decidedly. “We’ll have to wait till he awakes or Dobby returns before anything else. Thank you for your time, Phineas.” He turned back to Remus, who had a dazed look in his eyes. Perhaps the second vial had been a tad too much. Werewolf physiology was a tricky thing.
“…It’ll be the third year Easter fiasco all over again… all those poor bunnies…”
Ah, best to speak with Minerva then.
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Awakening To the Dream