The Dream Trilogy Book Three: What Dreams May Come (A Harry Potter FanFiction)

Chapter Forty Eight

Chapter Forty Eight

   Draco's head was swimming with fog. His forehead was cold but his wrists were hot, and something was pinching at his feet.

Consciousness came flooding back to him, and with a startled cry he woke up, bound tightly to a wooden chair, darkness engulfing most of the room save for a few shafts of moonlight.

"Mum!" he cried, yanking at his ropes and spinning his head around.

The laugh came again, the one he had heard before the pain. "Oh," said a familiar voice. "Mummy dearest couldn't make it. I'm sure she's sorry about that."

Draco pulled and fought against the ropes. "Who are you!" he demanded. "What have you done with my mother!"

A shape slunk from the shadows, and Draco could have kicked himself. There stood his Aunt Bellatrix, pleased as punch in her Rhansyk form. She was one half of the pair that had chased him and Harry into the jungle, the one with her jade and gold necklace growing out of her collar bones like stalagmites.

"You!" hissed Draco in rage.

"Me," agreed Bellatrix, her face splitting into a grin like an overripe melon. "You are too predictable dear nephew."

"Where is my mother!" he shouted at her as she stepped closer. "What did you do to her?"

Bellatrix pouted. "Aren't you listening?" she said sadly. "Mummy dearest isn't here, she never was." She leaned forward and rested her stitched up hands on Draco's knees, faking concern. "I made her up."

Realisation sank into Draco's guts like cold water seeping through a sponge. He'd been chasing a ghost, the one person he had no control over his emotions with. Bellatrix had made her appear somehow and played him like a puppet.

Shame was closely followed by fury. "Fine," he spat. "What do you want with me? What's with the house, why bring me here?" He sneered. "Voldemort must know we want to kill him."

Bellatrix shrieked with laugher and spun around irritatingly. "Oh you brought yourself here Baby Malfoy," she sang. "You made the house look this way. We were perfectly happy in a cottage by the sea before you and Baby Potter popped up."

Draco swallowed, not sure whether or not to believe here. "I wouldn't know how to move around Limbo," he said. "Even if I wanted to."

Bellatrix shrugged and twirled. "All I know is my Master needed you, and there you arrived, like a head on a silver platter, a lamb to the slaughter."

She grinned like it was the funniest joke in the world, and danced her way over to something glinting on the floor. "You may be wondering why you're all tied up?" Draco didn't respond, just yanked at his ropes again. "You see, you have the nicest toy," continued his aunt. "But when I try to play with it something nasty happens." She nudged it with her toe, and Draco frowned. It was his sword, Godric's sword, lying prone on the wooden floor.

"Nasty?" he repeated.

"It burns!" flared Bellatrix in anger, swooping back over towards him. She shoved her shiny red palms in his face, then slapped him. "Tell me how to pick up the lion's weapon, tell me how to make it mine!"

Draco blinked and winced, his mouth hanging open to try and stretch the stinging flesh of his cheek. "What?" he uttered, not following.

That got him a slap on the other cheek. He roared out and stamped his feet, making the whole chair rock. "What, WHAT!" he shouted. "You tied me up so you could stab me with the sword? You always were a coward."