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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
- 5
- 6
- 7
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.

CH6

“Oi! Watch it Fred!” Crashing into his older brother, Ron scowled up through his fringe from where he had fallen on the ground. His brother had been in a daze for the past week. Although it was nice to have a break from the constant pranks, Fred’s random incidents of spacing out had already granted Ron a bruised shoulder and skinned knee.
“Er... sorry ‘bout that Ronnikins.” Fred smiled half-heartedly. He held out a hand to his younger brother and observed how Ron easily towered a full head over him now. “I’m surprised you could see me at all from all the way up there.” He smirked, quickly coming back to himself. Ron’s rebuke was cut off when Fred’s mirror image called down from the tottering flight of stairs leading to the twins’ new apartment.
“What’s keeping you lot?! Get you’re arses in gear and help me clear this stuff up!” George called down, a small pile of papers fluttering around him like fallen feathers. “Blimey, heads up!” He cursed, grabbing at the loose pages and nearly falling headlong down the stairs. Fred and Ron quickly scrambled to pick up the paperwork while trying to make their way past the boxes of potion materials and ingredients littering the stairs and surrounding porch.
“Careful George, these steps are a bit wonky.” Fred warned when his brother swayed precariously, hidden behind a large cardboard box filled with the previous owners junk. “Quit your coddling, bro. I’m fine—!” George gave a surprised squeak when his foot slipped off the edge of a broken step and fell heavily onto the one below, throwing off his balance and sending him and the box of junk airborne.
“Defendo!” Reflexively shielding Ron and himself from the falling debris, Fred rushed forward and caught his brother before he could go crashing past. A moment later found all three brothers sitting shakily on the stairs trying to calm their racing hearts.
“Right,” George frowned, the first to find his voice. “We’re replacing the stairs.”
“Looks that way.” Fred sighed, calculating the extra time it would take with the limited manpower and funds. “You alright?” He sent a side-glance at his brother who had been avoiding his direction ever since he had set him down.
“Hey, the loo works in here, right?” Ron scuttled up, taking the steep steps on all fours. Fred pointed him to the corridor on the left, still watching George out of the corner of his eye.
“Yeah, just some bruising.” George glanced up but immediately went back to studying his shoes once meeting Fred’s gaze. “Just… you know…” He tousled his red hair in frustration.
Fred fought the impulse to do the same, not quite sure what to make of his brother’s strange behavior as of late. If he would only just come out and say what was on his mind! But that was George for you, outgoing and outspoken about everything but the things that meant something to him. Something had been brought about with the whole moving business and Fred was having a hell of a time trying to figure out what, along with settling affairs for furthering their shop. “If you need to talk…”
“Uh…I will… eventually. Thanks. For, well, being you.” George sent him a strange smile, his face flush and eyes a little too bright. Most likely from the fall Fred mussed, smiling back. “Best get to Ron before he stumbles into that pit in the hallway.” He added, clearing the air.
“I’m sure his head would still clear it.” Laughing they climbed the stairs together. A howl from inside told them they’d be able to prove their theory, for Ron’s head and shoulders did clear the random pitfall in the main hallway. Much pulling and laughing later, Ron was freed and declared the new apartment ‘diabolically perfect’ for the two.
Finally settling down, the three spent the rest of the afternoon tidying the rundown building. The Weasleys had inherited the old building from a passed uncle of theirs but no one had been interested in the task of repairing the three-story death trap. George and Fred as usual had been ecstatic for the challenge.
The building was located in the midst of Pentacle Alley, a popular wizarding business community serving to a large span of ages and classes all across England and beyond. ‘Rare and Brilliant Treasures,’ a worldwide famous store, was located on the same block as the Weasleys’ new home and a large crowd could be found there daily, a great incentive for fixing up the building. If everything went right, they’d have their business moved and established by mid winter. The community also had a great draw of teenagers and young adults, the twins’ prime market. They hoped to be able to prove how their own brand of pranks could be useful for an older crowd, not just the grammar school kids, and expand their market.
With Harry’s monetary support and their wide spread fame through the Hogwarts families, Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes had a good chance of starting big and keeping with it, their products strong enough to carry them all the way. They had to put off their side business of answering personal requests until they finished the new shop, but they were still confident that money would start rolling in once they were all set up. Already they were getting calls in advance for Halloween with their newest Wild Weasleys line of Temporary Transformation Treats they had spent the summer months perfecting.
“Times like this I really pity Harry.” Ron sent a pile of broken dishes careening into an open box waiting on the lawn. “Do you know he has to do all those muggles chores without magic? It must be awful.” A swish of his wand and the torn curtains were repaired and a brilliant shade of red.
George frowned, not meeting his brother’s eyes. Moody had decided that no one outside needed to know about Harry’s predicament. They weren’t even allowed to tell his friends that he had almost died. A part of him knew that the kids really didn’t need the extra worry and fear but the rest of him just felt it was another needless secret that would only blow up in their faces. “Hey, keep it in the green and yellow scheme.” He turned and changed the curtains to a lemon yellow with sparkling white stars.
“Come off it, Gryffindor colors are so much better.”
“When you get an apartment of your own you can decorate it with the brash red and gold all you like. I, on the other hand, have some taste; the kitchen is going to be a warm and inviting yellow with fresh green highlights.”
“Whatever mate.” He should have known by now not to get in the way of George’s creative streak. Rolling his eyes skyward Ron caught sight of a network of cracks spreading over the ceiling. “Are you going to do something about that?” He frowned, pointing at the thick cracks.
George looked up, following his gaze. “Doesn’t look good, eh?” He cast a few status spells, looking for structural weakness. “We’ll have to patch that part there…” They went through the rest of the rooms, checking the ceiling and floors for problems and marking them with a large X. They then went their separate ways to sort out the twin’s luggage and equipment. The time passed quickly as they worked cooperatively. Ron had been surprisingly eager to help the duo, although the capacity to get away from the hectic Burrow probably had something to do with it. Secretly, he was hoping to find a way to get invited to live there because he had fallen for the city last time they had all visited. If anything, he’d definitely be allowed to vacation there on holiday, which was better than nothing.
“Hey Fred! Do you know where we put that box of Shouting Sham essence?” George yelled down from the top floor.
“Er... I don’t think he’s back yet!” Ron called back from where he was compacting a pile of junk for disposal on the front lawn.
George frowned, moving to the window to see if he could catch sight of his brother who should have returned with dinner by now. Ron looked up and then turned to follow his gaze with concern at the darkened sky. Unlike Diagon Alley, where trouble usually stayed within the bounds of Knockturn Alley, Pentacle Alley had a more racy crowd that lurked in the shadows until nightfall when they overran the community along with the half-breeds, magical creatures posing as humans, dark wizards, criminals and the normal happy go lucky partygoers. Normally they wouldn’t have been worried, they knew Fred was capable of taking care of himself, but the hushed talk around the Order had been full of rumors of monsters and the Domin. The scare with Harry had set everyone on edge and with Dumbledore still out of commission George was a little more apprehensive than usual.
“Did you want to walk down the street and meet up with him? He’s probably just around the corner.” Ron said, not sounding as confident as his words suggested.
George sighed, wondering if he was getting worked up over nothing. He closed his eyes and visualized his twin, trying to deduce if he was injured or not. It wasn’t extreme but the two did share a small magical bond. They shared other bonds that ran deeper and didn’t necessarily have a name as well that were prodding him into action now. Unable to pick up Fred’s presence, his nervousness increased. It could be the area, magic abounded and they hadn’t tried to find each other here before…
A chill ran down his spine and he hurried down the stairs, meeting up with Ron who had already started walking. They didn’t waste time talking, instead they drew their wands and split up on opposite sides of the cobblestone street, searching the side lanes and listening for any mischief.
They had made their way down to ‘Magnificent Muggle Cuisine,’ the restaurant Fred had gone to pick up their dinner, when George scented Fred’s magic down a side alley. He signaled Ron and together they approached the dimly lit street, peering cautiously into the darkness where the light couldn’t seem to penetrate.
“I don’t like the look of this…” George whispered as he caught the scent of blood and a soft rustling on the wind. There was something moving… floating almost.
“Fuck!” Ron hissed softly as he caught a glimpse of the shadowy being. His father had shown him a picture of the Domin just the other day. Even wizard photos didn’t do the majestic and formidable dark creature justice. It was beyond physical, tall and overbearing in a presence that almost wasn’t there. The Domin were rumored to rule the darkness and Ron was quick to understand how that rumor had started. The darkness clung to the creature like a cloak, an aura that sliced through the fabric of space.
George quickly pulled them back into the relative safety of the streetlight before the creature spotted them. Just as George could sense magic on a higher level, Fred had an affinity to magical beings; he would have been drawn to the Domin regardless of the danger. The real question was just what type of danger did the Domin posses? Unlike the dementors, the Domin didn’t really have notoriety for attacking and tormenting humans although they were linked together as possible allies. No one really had any info on them at all except that they were very powerful and most probably sentient. The Domin rarely even came to the mortal realm anymore. If they were linked with Voldemort though, George would have to assume they were as dangerous as facing the Dark Lord himself.
Fixing Ron with a meaningful stare he steered him away from the darkness radiating from the alley. “Go back to the apartment and floo to the house. Get Dad and contact the Order. If he’s not there then get Mom, she’s good in a pinch.”
“Like hell. You think I’m going to let you face that monster alone?” Ron glared down at his brother, determined to stay. He had been in enough scrapes with Harry to know exactly what George was planning and he wasn’t going to let him do it alone. They were brothers; he’d stand by his side to the end if he had too.
“No one is facing that thing alone. I’m going to wait here for you to get Dad and the Order, understood? We don’t have a lot of time…” He looked distractedly down the alley. “Get going!” He gave Ron a light push down the street. “Try the restaurant. Fred’s most likely stuck in line and you can use their floo.”
Uncertain, Ron paused in the middle of the road. He knew they couldn’t beat that creature alone but would George actually wait? “Just… don’t do anything stupid!” He warned, turning away. “They’ll be here in a moment, don’t move!” Yelling over his shoulder he took off towards the large brick building.
George waited until Ron turned into the busy restaurant before preparing and stepping into the alley, wand at the ready. He didn’t want Ron to worry but he was more concerned about Fred’s condition. It was too much of a coincidence for a dark creature to be only a few feet away from his missing twin’s path. An all-consuming dread was bubbling up in him and he knew without a doubt that Fred was in danger. Gods, if he ever lost him… He pushed the thought aside and eyed the Domin lurking in the alley. It was the best place to start searching. Stealing himself, he approached the creature of darkness with the flutter of knowledge that this could likely be the last adventure he and his brother ever took.
Deep within the alley he found Fred broken on the ground behind the startling tall figure, blood soaking his shoulder length hair a crimson to his normal copper locks. A strange mark was on his shoulder, as if a hand had been burned through his shirt and into the soft flesh. George couldn’t take his eyes off of the gruesome scene, searching his brother’s form desperately for signs of life. “What... what have you done to him?” He wanted to shout but it came out a weak whisper swallowed by the darkness and despair.
The creature shifted, silver eyes gleaming like moonlight from the indiscernible face. “You should leave child, before he returns.” A smooth, velvety voice spoke.
George gaped, not truly expecting a response. A soft whimper broke him from his stupor and had him running to his fallen brother. “Fred, Fred! Can you hear me? Come on bro, answer me.” He pleaded with the unconscious form. “Don’t do this to me, damn it! You just can’t leave me like this.” His skin was cold, as if he had been lying on the road for a while now. So pale… his pulse was weak. Fighting the mind freezing terror that was threatening to overtake him he pulled his twin close and stood shakily with all intent to leave.
“You can not take him.” The darkness was around him now, suffocating him. Whirling, George found the silver eyes watching him steadily. “Are you going to stop me? Do you think I’d let you have him! You’ll have to kill me first!” He roared, his voice breaking with anguish and anger.
“...”
Sensing the creature’s hesitancy he used it as an advantage to try to get away. Unfortunately the darkness was unyielding to his fists or wand, a sightless prison keeping him in place.
“The circumstances are unfortunate child, but you may not take the boy. He has been captured by my associate who would be most unhappy with the loss.”
“So? He’s my brother! I don’t give a damn how unhappy your bloody friend is, he can’t have Fred!” He clutched his brother’s still form tighter as if expecting him to be torn from his grasp at any moment.
“As I said, it is most unfortunate. I suggest you forget about him and leave while you are able. I will not detain you but the other must stay.”
“No! I’m not leaving him!” He glared defiantly. It didn’t matter what happened, they had never abandoned each other before and he wasn’t about to start now.
“You are brave, I can see that.” The creature shifted closer, slowly circling the two. “But you are mortal and no match for me nor for the one I have come to converse with. It is in your best interest to leave now, before it is too late.”
“No.” George growled, fighting off the feeling of utter hopelessness. He wouldn’t lose. If the creature could talk it could be reasoned with. “What do you care if I’m caught or not? Just leave my brother and me alone. We’re just humans, you have no need for us.”
“This is true. I have no need of any of you. But as I said, my associate would be most displeased.”
“Who, Voldemort?” He spat. “Why the hell would you join forces with a nut job like him? He wants to kill off the whole muggle population and rule the bloody world. I thought the Domin didn’t meddle in human affairs? I thought above all else you still supported the balance of the realms like the rest of the Fae!” He held strong as the darkness seethed around him. His words had affected the being.
“We do not always do what we wish child.” The voice had roughened, a red light flashed briefly in the silver depths.
George pushed on, clinging to the break in composure and praying it wouldn’t lead to an early death. “So you just take it? You let some weak mortal like Voldemort push you around, go against everything you protect? I thought you were supposed to be powerful, superior to us little humans. Would you let him hurt your family? Can’t you understand and just let us go?” He held his breath; furiously hoping the creature had some sort of conscience.
The stillness was more alarming than anything previous.
Finally the Fae spoke. “No child, I would not allow my blood to suffer at anyone’s mercy. After all, is that not why I am here?” The figure shifted again, circling.
“Why then?” He asked desperately.
“He is the Heir.”
George started, his knees collapsing beneath him. “No.” He gasped. Voldemort couldn’t be the Heir; it was impossible. “You’re wrong! The Heir is suppose to support balance not destroy everything! He can’t be!”
“Balance does not always come with peace, child. Chaos is needed for change, and at times, destruction.”
George wracked his memory for all he had learned about the Fae and the old legends. Damn, Fred knew so much more about this! “Right, the Heir of Chaos, of course destruction was a part of it... but the Heir isn’t evil! Voldemort does nothing for the good of anything. He doesn’t destroy for balance but for his own selfish, deranged reasons. You can’t truly believe that he’s the Heir!”
The darkness became still again, pausing in a cruel imitation of hope. “It matters not his reasons. His actions create the results regardless of motives.”
Somehow the voice seemed less confident than before to George. “But we’re not talking about motives here, are we.” George continued slowly, understanding dawning. “Voldemort seeks an eventual order but it will never have balance… You fear him.” He gaped, wide eyed. “Whatever Voldie is up to is messing with your plans and you’re trying to reason with him.”
“Do not be foolish. We fear no mortal.”
“But the Heir isn’t mortal.” George mussed. “You can’t bloody touch him, it’s against cosmic law. What, so you decided to join him instead as a bargain? He’ll use you like he’s used everyone else. He fucking played you and you can’t do a damn thing. Not so bloody perfect now, are you.” He snarled.
The darkness stilled, wrapping tightly around the two. “No, we are not perfect mortal. We have learned when to keep our mouth’s silent unlike your race.”
George gulped in the tight hold, realizing he had probably said a little too much if the lack of air was any clue. “So you’re going to kill me? I see you’re not even above petty murder.” He didn’t fear death. Just as long as he had some sort of vengeance and didn’t let go to the warm body protected in his arms.
The silver eyes were close now; close enough for George to see the strange symbols deep within their depths. “You mortals truly are absurd. You’ve proved far more entertaining than the other I’ve been forced to dwell with in this cluttered realm.” The voice chuckled strangely as if laughter was not one of its natural abilities. “Come now. Release your blood and run along. Perhaps we will get another chance to converse again.”
Tears pressed against the back of his eyes. He couldn’t think of anything to get him out of this. His wand was useless, he couldn’t reason with him, he couldn’t fucking move! But he wouldn’t leave; he couldn’t leave him. “I cannot…… please, help us.” He trembled, wrapping tighter still around his brother.
Regret was evident, tangible in the darkness. “I cannot as well child. He approaches and you have run out of time. Try to avoid the false hand if possible. It will harm you far more than the human one.” With that the creature pulled away, the darkness shifting to reveal a gleeful Wormtail hurrying back to his prize. His Lord would be most pleased.
- 5
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Awakening To the Dream