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There was a woman screaming. A flash of green light. Then he was awake, gasping and searching in the dark for something that wasn’t there.
Harry pushed his damp hair out of his face, fumbling for his glasses at his bedside table. The shadows of the dormitory were clearer now, but it still felt like Sirius Black was hiding in the shadows, waiting to attack. He shook his head— as if. Some powerful, murderous wizard hardly had to wait to attack when he couldn’t defend himself either way. He’d know— there seemed to be plenty of those these days.
He was still exhausted, but that hardly mattered when he knew he wouldn’t be falling back asleep anytime soon. Even on the slim chance he did manage to sleep, he knew he’d have to face the same nightmares that have plagued him for the past few months.
It’s not like he didn’t know what the green light was—or that the woman screaming was probably his mum. It was only that he had a growing suspicion that these nightmares were more than just figments of his imagination, that this had really happened. The Dementors had taken a toll on him, and he wasn’t naive enough to think these memories were made up. That would be too easy.
He considered for a moment trying to finish his Transfiguration essay since he’d likely be awake for the rest of the now early morning. That idea was abandoned, however, when he noticed the trembling in his hands and knew his mind was too foggy to focus on much of anything at the moment. Still, he could hardly lay still in his four-poster bed for the next few hours, so he might as well wander.
Harry grabbed his invisibility cloak from where it was stashed away in his trunk and quietly made his way down to the common room, sidestepping an upper year passed out on the floor with books strewn around him. Preparing for the N.E.W.T.S early, poor bloke.
He snuck through the portrait hole, freezing when the Fat Lady stirred, only moving when he was sure she wouldn’t wake.
The corridor was dark and he was careful that his footsteps wouldn’t echo on the stone. For now he would rely on the faint light of the moon rather than risk a Lumos. (He was not eager to repeat the last incident with Snape, Lupin wouldn’t be there to save him this time.) He only wished he still had the Marauders Map, if only so he didn’t flinch at every shadow thinking it was Sirius Black, or worse, a professor patrolling the halls.
Finally, he stepped out into the cool breeze of the Astronomy Tower. The stars were thousands of tiny, blinking points of light in the night sky.
He sat down with his back pressed to the cool stone wall and craned his neck to stare up at the universe before him.
It was quiet, peaceful; like he was the only thing on earth. The world around him faded away and he could hardly feel the chill on his skin. He was so tired.
Before he knew it the sky started to lighten to cool purples and blues and he knew it was time to return to his dormitory. Dawn was coming in an hour or so, and he’d really rather not be caught sneaking in by his housemates.
Harry got up on shaky feet and slipped the invisibility cloak back on. Now that he’d calmed down, he dreaded having to deal with classes later when he was so exhausted. Unfortunately, he didn’t have much choice and he’d rather not have to catch up if he feigned sick and skipped classes.
He’d just made it down the Astronomy Tower stairs when he heard footsteps coming around the corner. Holding his breath, he hid himself in the alcove behind a tapestry and watched through the crack as McGonagall swept past him, yawning. Once she was out of range, he let out a sigh of relief and crept out of his hiding place. Usually, he wouldn’t bother hiding with his invisibility cloak, but professors seemed to have a sixth sense about these things and he figured it was better to be safe than sorry.
Finally, he made it to the staircase heading up to the Gryffindor common room. He’d made it up the first flight when the staircases started shifting. Oh no. It was too dark for him to tell which case was the right one, and he’d almost resolved to just wander about until daytime when he heard footsteps coming his way.
Really? Could just one thing go right for him this year?
He took a chance and jumped to the next staircase he heard coming his way. His first mistake. His second was slipping on the first step and falling to the ground.
Harry felt the air leave his lungs as he lay flat on his back, his ankle throbbing and the invisibility cloak just out of reach. Dammit.
He let out a huff of frustration, and heard a scoff in return from the figure now looming over him.
“Traipsing about the castle again, Potter? Seventy-five points from Gryffindor.”
Snape. Just his luck.
He sits up, desperately searching for an excuse. Snape’s cold eyes glare down at him. He scrambles to his feet.
“I—“ Then a rush of pain shoots up his leg as his ankle gives out beneath him. He hisses in pain.
“Just what are you doing, wandering about at this hour, Potter?” Snape sneers. Harry still hadn’t thought of an excuse. Then something flickers in the man’s eyes as he watches Harry shift his balance to his uninjured foot after nearly collapsing. He doesn’t mention it, though.
“As you said, Professor, I was traipsing about the castle,” He was so tired, and the pain in his ankle was only getting worse. All he wanted was to get back to his dormitory and pass out. Why had he left in the first place? “Causing trouble, can you just tell me how many detentions and get this over with?”
“Learn some respect, Potter, and give me a better answer than that. I’ll ask you again: why are you out at this hour.” His tone was stern, leaving no room for argument. Harry could only tell the truth.
“I couldn’t sleep, sir,” he muttered.
“And you think walking the halls when a serial killer is on the loose is a good idea?” Harry stared at some point just beyond the man’s face but still he could see in his peripheral vision that Snape’s eyebrow was raised. “And now you’ve gone and hurt yourself. Irresponsible.” Harry crossed his arms and tried to quell his rising annoyance. Some of it must’ve shown on his face, though, because the next moment Snape grabbed his shoulder, no doubt to steer him back to the Gryffindor dormitory. He couldn’t hide his flinch, and the flush of embarrassment in his cheeks when he realized how violently he’d jumped at something so small. He’d fought Voldemort, for Merlin’s sake, how could he flinch at something like that?
He looked anywhere but at Snape, knowing he’d only find annoyance in those cold eyes.
“Look at me, Potter.” His tone was deathly serious. Harry looked up at him warily. “You will go see Madame Pomfrey this instant. The last thing we need is you whining about a broken ankle.” Harry felt his cheeks burn as his anger rose.
“I’m fine, Professor. You won’t hear me whining about a broken ankle because I don’t have one. Can I just go back to my dormitory?” Now he was nervous, dreading the Hospital Wing. He’d visited far too much for his liking and he didn’t want Madame Pomfrey’s attention on him. The perceptive witch would surely notice his lack of sleep, or that he’d been skipping meals. He didn’t need another lecture, no matter how good-willed it was.
His eyes darted around, looking for an escape where he knew there wouldn’t be one. Not with his rotten luck as of late. Of course, Snape noticed.
“Mr Potter, I see no reason for you to worry about Sirius Black. I can assure you that Hogwarts is as safe as ever, so long as you do as you're told and don’t leave the grounds. Am I understood?” Snape raised an eyebrow.
“Yes, Professor,” Harry was just shocked the man was being somewhat civil for once, even if he’d misunderstood the reason for Harry’s jumpiness (He’d never admit that his jumpiness didn’t come from the nightmares, or Sirius Black.) Snape gave a stiff nod.
“Alright then, you’ve no reason for trouble sleeping, then?”
“Just nightmares, sir,” Harry didn’t know why he’d let that slip, he’d hardly meant to say it. Must be the exhaustion catching up to him. At least this conversation was over, he thought, but Snape just stared at him, clearly waiting for him to elaborate. “Must be the Dementors, I keep seeing the same thing over and over again: green light and a woman screaming. It’s nothing, sir,” Harry didn’t know why he was explaining himself to the man, it was hardly his business anyway. He turned to leave.
“Potter.” Snape waited until Harry met his eyes again warily. “Don’t think you’re getting out of a visit to the Hospital Wing.” Harry hesitated.
“Now, Potter.”
Snape turned with his robes billowing behind him and it took a moment before Harry reluctantly followed him. So much for going back to his dormitory.
Madame Pomfrey was displeased, to say the least. Actually, “infuriated” was probably a better word for it.
Harry sat on a cot, fidgeting with his hands as she gave him a stern lecture on responsibility and how he could only break so many bones.
It was only a sprain, though. (He wouldn’t dare say this aloud.)
“And just why were you out so late at night Mister Potter?” Pomfrey asked with a huff.
Harry hesitated, knowing the truth would only lead to more prying from the nurse. She leveled him with a look that wouldn’t be fooled by any half-baked lie he could come up with. A sigh escaped him.
“I couldn’t sleep,” he muttered, staring somewhere just off to her right. The sky outside the window was only getting lighter; he knew he wouldn’t be getting back to his bed before dark.
His words seemed to sober her up. She hummed thoughtfully.
“This is becoming a pattern, Mister Potter,”
He looked at her reluctantly, hearing the worry in her voice. He really didn’t want her pity.
“Everything’s fine, Madame Pomfrey, just restless is all,” Harry kept his face carefully blank, hoping his lie wasn’t too obvious. She frowned at him.
“I doubt that,” She hesitated, “…does this have anything to do with Sirius Black? Or the Dementors, perhaps?”
Harry would really rather not be discussing this, especially with Snape lurking intimidatingly in the corner. Honestly, can no one mind their business?
“Nothing’s wrong. Now could I please just leave?”
His comment was ignored.
“The boy mentioned nightmares from the Dementors, Poppy,” Snape pipes up from his gloomy little corner. Of course he has to butt in to make Harry’s life more miserable.
“I said it’s nothing, really—”
“What sort of nightmares?” Ignored, again.
Snape only set his glare toward him, apparently only now choosing to acknowledge his presence. Madame Pomfrey looked back and forth between them questioningly. Harry sighed, tired and defeated.
“There’s this green light, and what sounds like a woman screaming. It’s really nothing worse than usual. I'm fine.”
Madam Pomfrey’s eyes shone with a distant horror.
“Mister Potter—“ She cut herself short, clearly at a loss for words. Harry didn’t get it, it was hardly a secret that his mother had been murdered, that these nightmares probably had some truth to them. It really wasn’t as shocking as she made it seem.
“Can I leave now?”
She nodded grimly. “Just be careful with that ankle, Mister Potter. It should be fine after a few days, but don’t do anything reckless.”
He bobbed his head, eager to leave, and he hustled out of the Hospital Wing as soon as he was free to go. Just as he was a few steps out into the corridor, however, Snape stopped him.
“Not so fast, Potter. I will escort you back to your dormitory. There will be no more causing trouble, as you are so prone to doing,” he said drily.
“Yes, sir,” Harry sighed.
“And I expect you to see Madame Pomfrey should these nightmares continue. It wouldn’t do to have the Chosen One wandering about at night with a killer on the loose.”
The last bit seemed like an afterthought. Harry stood there, stunned that Snape had bothered to give him decent advice for once, even though it was laced with insults. He nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat.
“Now back to your dormitory, Potter.”
“Yes, sir.” Harry didn’t need to be told twice, he was exhausted.
He managed to get about an hour of sleep that night after passing out the second his head hit the pillow. Ron was the one to shake him awake for once, and the two managed to catch the end of breakfast after hurriedly throwing on their uniforms.
Oddly enough, there didn’t seem to be any points missing from Gryffindor House. How strange.
Harry chose to focus on his toast.
He did wind up in detention with Snape after nearly falling asleep over his potions later in the day, but otherwise it seemed like last night hadn’t happened at all. Surely he hadn’t imagined it? He decided not to think any further on that for the moment, however, since he was soon focused on scrubbing endless cauldrons by hand. Snape’s harsh detentions sure haven’t changed much, he thought to himself.
Just as he finished up after hours of tedious work, he walked over to find a potion sitting in a small vial on the desk with his school bag. He looked up at where Snape was sitting, grading papers with harsh red ink. The professor didn’t look up.
Surely not…
Harry read the label on the vial. A sleeping draught. Snape still didn’t look up. Harry headed toward the door, but turned around when he reached it to look at Snape.
“Thank you, Professor,”
He got a stiff nod in return.
For the first time in a long time, Harry slept peacefully and without a single nightmare.