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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
- 61
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- 63
CH62

“Hey… uh, did I wake you?”
Draco turned in his chair where he was sitting by Harry’s bed, his new resting place ever since he’d gotten used to walking again. He pretty much stumbled over to Harry’s bedside, but Madame Pomfrey had yet to be able to deter him no matter her complaints. “Hey Neville. I was afraid you weren’t going to show up.”
“Yeah, well luckily Madame Pomfrey doesn’t mind letting me in after hours. It’s the only time I have; school’s gotten pretty hectic with all the make-up classes we’re having since the renovations, thanks to you two.” Neville pulled up a chair next to Draco, his eyes straying to Harry’s prone form. “They tell me he’s out of the coma.”
“For a little over a week now.” Draco followed Neville’s gaze, watching the rise and fall of Harry’s breath. “He’s going to be all right.”
Neville didn’t argue. Draco had shown extraordinary insight since returning to Hogwarts… and he didn’t want to think otherwise when it came to Harry’s condition. “You must be bored, huh? Zabini mentioned coming in to visit, but they’re afraid his energy might mess up Harry’s progress. He wants to see you though. Wants you to meet his uncle… Maybe Madame Pomfrey will let me wheel you in. Uh, if you want, that is.”
Draco thought about it for a long moment, his gaze straying to his crippled hands. “He won’t care about that, Draco.”
Draco nodded, and Neville got up to talk with Madame Pomfrey. Both of them returned minutes later, Poppy spelling up a wheelchair and carefully floated Draco into the seat. “Just let me double check the security, and make sure no one is wandering about that shouldn’t be here.” Obsidian was pretty strict about all the security, but he had been convinced to back off as more and more visitors were allowed in each day. Poppy hoped she hadn’t underestimated the creature’s sharp eyes throughout the day.
“Mr. Zabini, kindly remove your fist from Mr. Forrestal’s hair.” Blaise jumped, whirling and nearly falling over if not for Clive’s quick catch. “I wasn’t hurting him, promise!” He blinked, his desperate expression turning confused, then dizzy in a matter of moments.
Poppy narrowed her eyes. “Who’s been in here?”
“N-No one, Madame Pomfrey.” Blaise insisted, not realizing his whole demeanor was proving otherwise.
“Mr. Forrestal, if you would please reveal the name to me.” It wasn’t a question so much as a growled order. Both flinched in reply.
Clive opened his mouth, and closed it again when Blaise whimpered. He gave the boy a questioning look and sighed. Instead of speaking, he pointed down the room to where Obsidian was resting beside a still enchanted Severus Snape. The gargoyle peeked an eye open and answered gruffly.
“My Master’s first creation in his current form, Nips, was here for an hour so he could bring me up to date on the progress at White Towers. I did not realize the two would be affected so poorly, or I would have spoken with him outside this room. It will not happen again.”
“It certainly will not.” Poppy said briskly. “The guests are gone, so if you wish you may return to Harry’s room. Draco will be visiting here for a little while. Not as long as I had originally intended, unfortunately.” She gave the two incubi a stern look, clearly finding them at fault for not informing her of their condition in the first place. “I’ll be back soon with Draco. Do not overexert yourselves.”
“Yes’m.” Blaise mumbled, watching the door expectantly, while his hand strayed to find Clive’s silky, frosted hair again. If Clive was annoyed, he made no show of it, his own focus on the door as well. Draco Malfoy was a Candidate, and that interested him unimaginably so.
Blaise was up before the door was even pushed fully open, running to greet Draco. “Mr. Zabini, stop this instant!” Madame Pomfrey ordered, her expression leaving no room for argument. Clive shifted on the bed; that tone always made him uncomfortable, as if a whip were snapping over his head. He wondered if the woman would be so happy to use it if she knew he found her orders to be challenging to his existence. As calm as he tried to be for Blaise, his urge to fight or better yet, run, was only growing while being stuck in the foreign hospital room.
“…Marshmallow…” Clive leaned to the side to see around Blaise, who seemed to be fawning over a pile of blankets left on a chair. It was only when a pale, laughing face trying to break free from Blaise’s attention poked through, that Clive realized a boy was under there.
“Damn it, Zabini; you’re loopy again?” Neville lightly pushed the taller boy away from Draco with the flat of his hand, drawing Blaise and Clive’s attention to his presence. “Go sit down before you fall down. And try not to pick on Mr. Forrestal while you’re like this. It’s only fair.” Clive reached an arm out to Blaise and pulled him down beside him, the two of them staring none to subtly at Neville. Sure they saw him every Saturday, but it never seemed enough. What was worse was the boy would never let them get close enough for much else.
Madame Pomfrey drew Draco up to the side of the bed so he could converse easily with his friends. Obsidian gave the blonde a cursory sniff of recognition, before following the woman out the door and back to Harry’s side.
“Are we fighting?” Draco finally asked when no one spoke up, the other occupants of the room apparently in a staring contest.
“Ignore it. They like to stare at me, that’s all.” Neville’s smile never reached his eyes. “Until they snap out of it, you want to tell me how you’re doing?”
Draco continued to watch Blaise and Clive stare at Neville. “…Never seen full formed incubi before, except in books that is. They’re very…”
“Before you finish that thought, realize Zabini’s ego is bigger than this room.” Neville grumbled. Thoughtfully he rearranged Draco’s blankets from the mess Blaise had left them in. “Let me know if you get too hot.”
“I’m fine. Thanks.” The blankets itched worse than his bandages, so Draco was happy to pull his arms free. “They’re impossibly pretty. Like… like the gods out of a fairytale. I didn’t think people could look like that.”
“I didn’t think you’d see them that way.” Neville sat down again, two heads following his movement. “You must be low on magic still. A sort of curtain of magic that most can’t see past surrounds them. They’re beautiful, but not that beautiful.”
Eyes widening, Draco looked down and concentrated. When he looked up again, his eyes were shining silver light. “Huh, you’re right.” He smirked wickedly. “I’m prettier.”
That seemed enough to wake Blaise up again. “Like hell you are! Shiny’s got more pretty in his hair than you have in your whole form!” Neville groaned, slapped himself on the forehead, and stomped across the room to fume in a corner.
Draco had obviously missed something while stuck in his little hospital room.
Clive followed him with his chill gaze. “Please forgive Blaise, Mr. Longbottom. You know how he can get when like this.” Shadows loomed with his words, reaching for Neville with a frightening speed.
Draco’s feet hit the ground and he pushed away, wheeling across the floor. Neville caught him before he could get too far. “What the hell is he?” Draco glared openly at Clive, his legs still twitching. “Why did he—?”
“Relax, Draco. It’s just another magic thing. He can’t help it; he doesn’t mean anything by it.” Neville laid cautious hands on Draco’s shoulders, his eyes apologizing to Clive. “Sometimes his voice makes you see things, or hear things that aren’t there, even feel sensation. It’s a sign of his Clan. The Scion Incubus Clan was notorious for their skill in not only negotiating, but also mental warfare, and seduction. The voice is a power, like most spoken spells, just far more potent in him. He’s new at it and can’t always control what happens.”
Draco’s scowl slowly began to lessen. He had known that once, when he wasn’t doped up on pills. “…Fine. Alright… alright. Sorry about that.” He didn’t resist Neville’s push, and settled back into his former position by the bed. Clive rightly kept his mouth shut. Draco studied him through narrowed eyes, leaning forward as he followed the movement of the man’s natural currents of magic. Draco’s eyes were not as clear as they used to be from his loss of magic, but they worked enough for him to see the thin tendrils of power tied to Clive’s throat and eyes. He went to touch them and stopped once his hand came into view. “Bugger…” He sat back in a huff.
Mirroring Draco’s pout, Blaise got up and knelt by the blonde’s knees, hugging onto his legs in an awkward embrace. “You’re pretty, Draco. Possibly prettier than Shiny, although it’s a close call.”
Raising a brow, Draco exchanged a glance with a blushing Neville. “He’s insane, I swear.” Neville said quietly.
“I know he’s insane, Nevvy, he’s been my friend for ages. Still, he doesn’t lie about what he finds pretty.” He petted Blaise’s head with the inside of his forearm. “You are acting a bit odder than usual though, Blaise. Have you hit your head recently?”
“Nope, just this nasty exritus.” Blaise answered cheerfully. “I’ve been stuck in this room sooo long I’ve forgotten what the outside looks like. If not for Clive and Shiny, I’d be like this twenty-four seven. They take good care of me.”
“His magic sensitivity never went away, and it leaves him drunk and weak when exposed to it.” Neville explained while Blaise continued to prattle into Draco’s knees. “Mr. Forrestal is able to barrier the effects while in the same room, and I… well, I don’t know how I help him, but he insists I do.” He added thoughtfully.
“I see…” And Draco did see. He looked down at Blaise questioningly.
Blaise shook his head, looking up Draco to meet his eyes. “He doesn’t want to hear it. And it hurts to feel that when he blocks us out, so… well, we don’t try anymore… You’re hands look very poofy today, did you know that?” While Blaise poked at Draco’s bandages, Draco took another look at the other two, one red and avoiding everyone’s eye, and the other silent and staring back at him.
“You can talk, if you want. Now that I know what to expect, I’m not really bothered by it.” Clive nodded at this, but seemed still to hesitate to speak. It took Draco a while to realize the man was just judging what to say.
“You’re his Candidate?” Clive finally asked, and with it shadowy images arose in the back of Draco’s head.
“…You’re the guy he kissed.” Draco tried, and failed to keep a note of accusation from his voice as he recognized the form Clive once had. They stared each other down, minds working with the new knowledge they had just gained, their next words even more cautious.
“I kissed him. Not the other way around.”
“I seem to be the only one here relieved to hear that.”
After another long staring match, Draco raised his chin in acknowledgement. “Draco Malfoy, of the Scion Dragons. It’s an honor to meet you.”
“Clive Forrestal, of the Scion Incubi. The honor is mine.” Clive reached out, grasping Draco’s forearm, and then covering it with his other when Draco’s hand wouldn’t close properly. “It seems we will be recuperating together. I’m always happy to have good conversation.”
“Good; snoring isn’t much repartee in my opinion. Your magic as messed up as his?” He asked with a nod towards Blaise, who had taken to resting his head in Draco’s lap and listening to the group talk.
“It’s unpredictable at best. But while with them I find myself more stable. I think another couple of months and I’ll be in a place where I can use most of my powers without fear.”
“And Blaise too. I guess he was pretty bad off till Mr. Forrestal arrived.” Neville added, more relaxed now that the attention had been taken off of him. “It must be an Incubus thing.”
“We keep telling you it’s not.” Blaise said softly. Uncomfortable silence fell until Draco sighed in exasperation.
“Can’t you lot at least pretend to be happy? You cannot imagine the line of tearful faces I had to see today.”
“At least you’re allowed visitors. Pomfrey’s all military when around us.”
“It’s because she thinks we’re hot. She’s overcompensating for fear her attraction will make her go easy on us.” Clive said simply, causing everyone to stare at him.
Yeah, Draco had his own problems with people thinking inappropriate thoughts about him against their will, but it didn’t stop him from bursting out in laughter. Neville joined in with his soft snicker he reserved when afraid he may be offending someone by laughing. “Are you sure she’s not locking you in here to keep for herself?”
“Nah, then she wouldn’t let Shiny in.”
Draco shrugged. “Maybe she’s as dense as Shiny. Speaking of which, Shiny dear, why the hell do you visit these two if they bother you so much? I’ve been here ten minutes and I’ve already had enough.” Neville switched from glaring at the use of the annoying nickname, to snickering.
“Hey! Some best friend you are.” Blaise bit Draco’s knee, not using enough force to hurt. “I’ll have you know Shiny cares about us veeery much.”
“He must if he puts up with your weird staring.” Draco gave his fellow Slytherin a thoughtful look, and then pushed his leg a little closer. “You can bleed me if you want. The wish to imprint has hit me hard since I lost my collar.”
“You’ve never imprinted anyone?” Neville asked, watching as Blaise began to push the pajama pants up Draco’s leg.
“Only two; it’s not like I had a lot of time. They were there when I first woke up, and, well, I’ve grown very fond of the two…” Draco’s eyelids drooped, his voice fading as sharp teeth nipped his calve. “Uhh, how many friends have you imprinted?”
“Only family for me. I’m sort of particular about that, especially since the majority of my friends would start screaming ‘vampire’ and run away.” Neville tilted his head, unconsciously leaning forward to watch Blaise lick up the long leg.
“I can’t run away.” Draco pointed out.
“No… you can’t.” Eyes caught briefly with Draco’s, Neville looked away. Draco didn’t press the issue. Imprinting meant different things to each person, and Draco knew that he and Neville had a long way to go before the Gryffindor could admit that he trusted him.
“Come up here so I can reach you.” Draco called, Blaise’s open, childlike expression lovely and a bit troubling for him to see. He understood the twins now, because Blaise looked so very young to be dealing with his illness.
“Don’t give me that look, Drake. You have better things to worry about.” Blaise draped over Draco’s shoulder, moving his collar to give Draco a patch of flesh. Draco was not blind to the marks already littering the dark neck.
“I’m surprised Pomfrey allows that.”
“Only because she wants us.”
Draco gave Clive a knowing look. “Only because it must help you somehow. She doesn’t put up with stuff like that unless it’s beneficial on a medical level.”
“What is?” In lieu of ignoring Neville, Draco quickly bit into Blaise’s collar. It wasn’t his place to tell. Possibly he would mention something once he had time away with his friend.
“Draco…” Blaise’s eye shot open, and he pushed weakly away when Draco wouldn’t let go. The area around Draco’s teeth was burning from some sort of magical reaction that had nothing to do with a simple greeting ritual. “What did you do?” He asked once finally free. His legs went weak, and once again Clive had to catch him.
Looking a little manic, Draco licked his lips, his body singing with sudden awareness. Unfortunately, part of that awareness was excruciating pain brought on from his nerve damage. “You’re one of the few people I love. Did you think I wouldn’t bond with you?” He had to stop, teeth clenched to fight the pain burning through him. It took a while, but it eventually began to fade. “…I know I’m weak right now, but I won’t always be like this. With the return of my health, yours will improve. As my power grows, yours will be supported.” He turned to Clive, his expression serious. “And if you are to be his mate, then I offer the same to you. I’m not Potter, but I have my own power to give for those I love. The same with you, Neville. You may not understand now, but you are a part of this too.”
“…Why do we get the choice?” Clive asked, confusion and anger sending white swirls around him.
“Because he means more to me. And he is the one most likely to die out of the three of you right now.”
“I would have said yes.” Blaise said in a small voice. He reached his hand out to hold Draco’s arm.
“I know; don’t think I’m angry. Just hurting right now…” He gave Blaise a reassuring look, before returning to the other two. “Think about it for as long as you like. You three are stronger when together. Certainly you should have already bonded in other ways, if only to help your physical progress—”
A shout muffled at the door, and everyone paused to turn and stare. Silence answered, and then a long moment later, a growl and scream followed. Neville jumped to his feet, the only one well enough for actual action, and ran for the door. Clive went after him, his gate slow but steady. Not a fool, Draco held onto Blaise and made sure he didn’t move a muscle towards the door.
“Madame Pomfrey…?” Neville called, moving swiftly around the corner into the corridor that connected all the back rooms of the hospital wing together. He hesitated at the bend; a small bouquet of flowers was scattered and broken on the ground. Eyes lifting to meet Clive’s, they nodded together and took the bend, Neville’s wand at the ready while the Incubus raised his hands high—and immediately crashed into each other as Neville tried to prevent tripping on the body fallen on the floor.
“Colin!” The little photographer had his camera in hand while he slumped on the stone floor in a dead faint. Obsidian was looming over him, not attacking, but not allowing anyone by to see Harry either. “I think he hurt his head.”
Kneeling to see to the small wound and larger bump, Neville found a strange necklace grasped in the fifth years’ hand. He wasn’t sure what it was, but he didn’t like it. Not even bothering to see if anyone was watching, he took a handkerchief from his pocket, and careful folded the magical object in it. He’d confront Colin later about running around with illegal objects. He also snatched up the impromptu photo of Obsidian, and tore it apart. Moments later Madame Pomfrey was hurrying down the hall, calling for house elves to help with the fallen student.
“…What do you think happened?” Clive asked quietly once Madame Pomfrey had taken over and was caring for Colin in one of the public hospital rooms.
“I think he came late to see Harry, and got a nasty shock instead.” Neville turned to the man, his brow creased in worry when he found Clive to be leaning most of his weight on the wall. “Come on, you shouldn’t leave the protective wards of your room.”
Clive nodded and pushed away from the wall. After a few unsteady steps Neville reached to help, but the man flinched away. “I can manage.”
“I don’t mind…” Neville looked down, moving away while Clive collected his strength. He intentionally looked over the man’s shoulder as he spoke next. “This isn’t the time for you to be angry at me. Let me help you.”
“And why would I be angry at you?” Clive bit out sharply, his soft expression completely transformed now away from Blaise. Braced on the wall, he began walking slowly back towards his door.
“Because you’re an idiot, I suppose.” Neville muttered after a long pause. He grabbed Clive by his free arm, arranging himself as a crutch. “Over my shoulder.”
Clive complied, his shoulders tense as he leaned onto the smaller boy. “…You’re the idiot.”
“I’m only sixteen; I’m allowed to be stupid, and afraid.” Staring straight ahead, Neville moved as fast as he dared while helping Clive to the safety of the wards. He had learned through Roariel that Incubi were very dependent on having someone with them during their exritus. Both Blaise and Clive hadn’t bonded with anyone, and were suffering because of it. Even if they had bonded to each other, it wouldn’t have done much to boost their health when they were both so weak.
“You should take Draco up on his offer. You’d heal faster. You’d be safe.”
Clive huffed, glaring sideways at Neville. “More foolishness. No one is safe, so don’t bother justifying passing us off on the Candidate. That boy has more things to worry about than some tagalongs.”
“…Fine. I won’t justify it.” Clive stopped Neville before he could open the door, pinning him with his gaze.
“Look at me when you’re speaking. Or are you that apathetic to us?”
It took Neville a moment to stop his naturally darting eyes, but once he had, he stared defiantly back. “You were a lot more pleasant back at White Towers.”
“I was much younger and empty the night you met me. Would you rather I smile so you could feel better about how much you’re hurting us? You know him; he can’t handle this. I can only compensate for so much before I break as well.”
“Stop acting like it’s so simple.” For some reason Neville had to stop himself from yelling. “He’s a fucking prince in his clan, and you—you’re not even a possibility. What do you think the High Tieren would do if they knew I was even visiting either of you like this? Lady Jaha knows my place, even if her grandson has forgotten.”
“No one, not even the High Tieren, has say in this. It’s only us, Mr. Longbottom.”
Neville stepped back, his train of thought wavering for a moment. “Stop it with the voice, damn it. You don’t have a family name to protect; you don’t have people to answer to. I can’t add stealing the Great Jaha’s grandson to the list of squibs, and my mentally deficient parents. My Gran is placing enough pressure on me as it is with the whole Fae Wizard thing and supporting the Heir. I don’t have any leeway to mess things up!”
Clive straightened, his eyebrows lifting as he stared at Neville. “Well at least you didn’t justify it.”
“That’s not—!” The door opened, cutting Neville off.
“I don’t know what you’re arguing about, but unless someone out here is dead, I suggest you stop it.” Blaise gave them both a hit of his more frosty expression, leaving the two to feel guilty while he stumbled back to Draco’s side.
Neville and Clive turned back to each other. “…This isn’t over.” Clive said finally.
“Nothing started to have be over.” Neville snapped back. “Go make sure he’s not bawling already. I’ll be back to get Draco later.” His head pounding, Neville walked quickly down the hall, glad that all the people around were too ill to actually chase after him.
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Awakening To the Dream