Sleep Spent

Sleep Spent

*

Ginny’s laughter was infectious.

The chuckles that forced their way out of Draco’s throat felt stifled and rusty, as though he hadn’t had cause to laugh in years. Ginny just grinned wider, and traced a finger along his throat, tracing the spots where the pain was sharpest with unerring accuracy.

Ginny wrapped the crisp white sheet around herself as she rose from the bed and walked to the window. Sheer drapes blew in the salty breeze, and Draco felt content for the first time in months.

She twirled, and said, “I was so wrong about you, Draco. You’re a good man.” As his eyes fell shut heavily, he heard her say, “We’re good together.”

*

He’d known from the second he saw that fierce expression on Ginny Weasley’s face as she hit him with a truly vicious Bat Bogey Hex that he wanted to know this girl better. But then his father had been arrested, and then when they returned to school he was preoccupied with that terrible task that he’d been appointed.

Now, however, it seemed as though there was nothing but time. Everything at Hogwarts was the same as always, the ghost of Dumbledore controlling things just as efficiently as his body had the year before. And now, in his final year, unconcerned about studying for N.E.W.T.S. after his thorough education at the hands of his aunt and her associates, Draco found the time to seek out Ginny and discover just how passionate she could be.

His free time was spent in a blur of stolen kisses and heated embraces in dusty corners and darkened classrooms. Draco could never remember being happier.

*

He became a curse breaker after leaving Hogwarts. His father congratulated him on finding a way to use his extensive knowledge of dark magic for a legitimate and lucrative cause, while his mother enjoyed the local souvenirs that he sent home from every exotic location.

Something still seemed to be missing, until he ran into a familiar redhead in Romania.

“Draco,” she had said, startled, upon seeing him.

He’d said nothing at all, only kissed her as if his life depended on it.

Sometimes, words simply were not enough.

*

When Draco woke in the room filled with white linen, Ginny was sitting in the windowsill, wearing his robe and watching the ocean.

“Ginny,” he said. “Marry me?”

He hoped he would never forget the look of pure joy on her face as she leapt across the room and into his arms.

“About time, you git,” she laughed.

*

Later, he can barely remember the engagement, the wedding, except for a blur of familiar faces in large crowds. Everyone is happy, everyone approves, and Draco cannot take his eyes off his bride in virgin white.

Their honeymoon revisits the villa with the room with white sheets and white drapes floating in the ocean breeze.

A son is born.

Work and play and love blend into something Draco thinks of as happiness as time slips past him.

This is the life he dreams.

*

“The draught of living death,” Severus answered without being asked. Narcissa’s eyes widened, looking at the seeming-corpse of her only child. “He is unharmed, and will awaken as soon as the antidote is administered.”

“What is he experiencing?” she asked. “I mean, does he know he’s asleep? Does he dream?”

“No one can ever remember, once they’ve been revived,” Severus said. “However, I think it best if we leave him in this state for the time being. They’re still looking for him.”

“I know.” Narcissa’s shoulders hunched as she brushed an errant lock of hair from Draco’s closed eyes. Her fingers lightly brushed his face, smiling slightly as she felt the downy hair beginning to accumulate. “It seems like he was just born. Like he just learned to walk.”

“We shouldn’t linger here,” Severus said as gently as he could. “He’ll be safer if we aren’t near.”

Narcissa kissed her son on the forehead, and followed Severus out of the mausoleum.

*

Draco smiled as his grandchildren clamored over him, and his wife stroked his cheek and kissed his forehead.

“It’s time for sleep, darling.”