A/N: I've cleaned this story up and formatted it for eReaders if anyone wants a permanent copy for themselves. Get the file here: dub dub dub DOTshadygrimDOTwixsiteDOTcom/the-presence/neville-s-nightmare There's also an external link to the epub file from this same story located on Wattpad.

Disclaimer: This story was neither written, nor endorsed by JK Rowling. No profit is being made from this story.

Chapter 1

It was a cold and blustery day and the road to Hogsmeade was almost knee-deep in snow. The sky had been miserably dark and overcast for most of the day due to an unusually aggressive snowstorm. Three boys were slowly trudging through the powdery white snow on their way back to Hogwarts.

"Do you mind if I walk with you guys?" mumbled Neville through his thick scarf. He was bundled so warmly that only his eyes were visible.

"Huh?" said Ron as he stopped and turned around. Neville pulled down his scarf and repeated the question. "Yeah, sure."

The boys stood three abreast as they kept pace with each other. Neville was almost warm, but Harry and Ron were shivering in the bone-chilling snow and frigid air.

"Where's Hermione?" mumbled Neville through his scarf.

"Studying," answered Harry.

"Where else?" snorted Ron.

"Oh, look at that," mumbled Neville as he stooped to pick something off the ground. Ron and Harry walked on a few paces before realizing that Neville was no longer with them. They stopped and turned to see him dusting snow off of what looked to be a child's doll.

"He's playing with dolls now?" whispered Harry. Ron shrugged his shoulders and both he and Harry were about to walk off when they saw Neville give a startled jump. The suddenness of his movement made them jump too. Curious now, they moved closer to Neville.

"What's that you've got, Neville?" shouted Harry. Neville mumbled an answer.

"Take that damn scarf off your mouth!" shouted Ron. "We can't understand you!"

Neville tucked his scarf under his chin. "I thought it was a doll, but it's alive. It moved." He began to unbutton the top of his coat and put the tiny creature close to his body to warm it up.

"Ugh," said Ron. "That thing's hideous."

"It looks just like Snape," said Harry with a shudder.

"Any idea what is it?" asked Neville, his little bundle now safely stowed away. Neither Ron nor Harry had any idea what is was. "I'll take him to Hagrid. He'll know what to do with him."

The creature looked like a tiny naked man with very large hands and feet, scrawny overly long limbs, and long, stringy, black hair that obscured its face. The boys resumed their trek towards Hogwarts; this time with a quickened pace—not because of the little doll-man, but because it was nearing dinner and Ron was starving.

The boys deposited their winter wrappings in their dorm room and made their way to the Great Hall. Neville lagged behind to tuck his new pet into his bed. Harry and Ron quickly forgot about Neville and his doll-man and resumed their deep and profound conversation about Quidditch. Their conversation died down some as Ron piled food into his mouth. Hermione sat across from Harry with an open book in front of her. Ginny sat to Hermione's left, across from her brother. Neville accidentally elbowed Ginny, causing her to spill her pumpkin juice.

"Careful, Neville!"

"Sorry," said Neville, as he absentmindedly rubbed the area of his chest where he'd held the little doll-man.

"You okay, Neville?" said Harry.

"Yeah, why?" answered Neville, still rubbing his chest.

"Well, you're sort of…rubbing," said Harry as he mimicked Neville.

Neville looked bewildered, like he had no idea what Harry was talking about. "I'm fine, really."

"Okay then," said Harry, who exchanged a perplexed glance with Ron. The boys resumed their usual habit of chatting with Ginny and ignoring Hermione's book as well as any references she made to it.

The beds in the boys' dormitory were arranged in a sort of semi-circle around the room with their headboards butted up against the walls. Neville's bed was located centrally. Harry's bed was to Neville's right, and Ron's bed was to Harry's right. On Neville's left was Seamus' bed, and to Seamus' left sat Dean's bed. The boys had gone to bed a few hours ago and all were sleeping peacefully, except for one. Neville, who was lying on his back, began to shift slightly and moan softly. His head shifted, and his eyes rolled agitatedly underneath their lids.

Neville's eyes opened with a start. He felt sweaty. He let out a short yelp when he saw a figure standing at the foot of his bed. He tried to call for Harry, but was unable to utter a sound. Neville recognized the figure immediately despite the fact that it was half-shrouded in shadow; the slight build, the loose-fitting robes, and the pale angular face partially obscured by stringy black hair—It was Snape!

Neville couldn't see his eyes, but Snape's face appeared immobile, almost slack-jawed. Snape pounced without warning onto Neville's bed. Neville was pinned under his blankets. He was shocked by the weight of Snape. If he hadn't known better, he would've thought Hagrid had just jumped on top of him. Snape's movements were almost cat-like; smooth and supple yet alarmingly unnatural as he slowly crawled over Neville's body. Snape stopped and hovered over Neville with his stringy black hair lying on Neville's face. His hot foul-smelling breath steamed into Neville's nose.

"Neville!" shouted Harry. "Open your eyes!" Neville's eyes popped open, and he saw Harry standing over him with his lighted wand in hand and an irritable-looking Ron standing beside him.

"Where did he go? Did you see him?" stammered Neville.

"Who?" said Harry.

"Snape! Snape—he was here! He was on top of me…" Neville's voice trailed off as Harry and Ron exchange amused glances. The room had become silent.

"So, did you kiss him?" said Seamus a little too loudly, a broad silly grin plastered across his face.

"What?"

"You shouted," began Ron, " 'no, no get off me. Harry help.' "

"No, you don't understand," said Neville. "It was really scary."

"A kiss from Snape would be pretty horrible," replied Harry. Ron had already gotten back into bed.

"Give the Git a goodnight kiss from me," said Dean. Everyone laughed–everyone but Neville.

"It's not funny!"

"You just had a nightmare," said Harry. "Go back to sleep." Harry didn't wait for a reply. He turned and sat on his bed, set his glasses on the nightstand, rubbed his tired eyes, and said through a yawn, "Nox." He set his wand down next to his glasses, laid down, and was asleep almost instantly. Neville rolled onto his side. He lay awake for some time before falling into an uneasy restless sleep.

Neville felt drained when Seamus woke him in the morning. He washed and dressed for class in a stupor. He felt very thirsty and stopped for drinks of water between every class. He had several glasses of pumpkin juice with each meal and another large glass before bed. He was the first of the boys to retire. He hoped for a peaceful sleep, but it didn't happen. He had the same nightmare, and again was awoken by Harry calling his name and standing next to him. This pattern continued for nearly two weeks. By the twelfth night, Neville felt himself being slapped across the face and roused enough to hear Harry hoarsely shout, "Wake up!" The second Neville opened his eyes, the same hoarse voice told him curtly to go back to sleep. Harry was back in bed before Neville could sit up. Across the room, with silvery moonlight gently cascading across his bed, sat Dean. He was glaring at Neville.

"One more night of this, Neville," growled Dean, "and I'll hold a damn pillow over your face!"

"Will everyone please just shut up?" pleaded Ron.

"Sorry guys," said Neville.

"Not another word," spat Seamus.

The next day Neville passed out on his way to Potions class. The boys were too tired to crack jokes about it. They visited Neville just before dinner and were grilled by Madame Pomfrey about Neville's condition, and she insisted on examining each of them for signs of the same ailment—whatever it was.

"A boy doesn't suddenly become anemic without a reason!" snapped Pomfrey. "Are you boys certain that you haven't seen anything out of the ordinary? Anything at all?"

"No Madame Pomfrey," answered Harry. "Neville's been fine until today."

"None of you are hiding any pets?"

"No, ma'am," said the boys, almost in unison.

"Alright, you may visit him, but don't agitate him in anyway. Understood?"

"Yes, ma'am."

The boys seated themselves around a very groggy Neville. As tired as he was, he looked much better than he had. There was some color in his cheeks now as Madame Pomfrey had given him a Pepper-Up Potion and a Blood Replenisher. About five minutes after they sat down, Professor Snape strolled into the ward. Neville shrank a little into his bed. The other four boys glared at Snape. He was carrying a goblet in one hand and a small box containing six stoppered vials in the other. Madame Pomfrey had requested a broad spectrum anti-parasitic.

"Thank you, Professor," said Madame Pomfrey as she relieved Snape of his burdens.

"Not at all," replied Snape. "The goblet is for immediate use. The vials can be stored for up to six months."

"Excellent," said Pomfrey. "Hopefully we won't be needing them."

"Professor Sprout is fumigating the greenhouses, so any further infection will be unlikely."

Pomfrey's eyes shifted and Snape's followed as someone else entered the ward. It was Professor McGonagall. The adults lowered their voices so the boys couldn't hear.

"Parasites, Poppy? Are you sure?" said McGonagall.

"Not entirely, Minerva," replied Poppy. "He has what looks to be pairs of puncture marks all over him, so I initially thought they were caused by an animal of some sort."

"You don't think a vampire could've gotten into the castle?" said McGonagall with some alarm.

"No," replied Poppy. "He's not infected with vampirism, and he has no animal venom in him that I can identify. A parasitic infection is the most likely culprit what with all the dangerous exotic plants he works with. It would easily explain the anemia too."

"And the puncture marks?" said Snape.

"Well, there are so many grouped together. They could easily give the impression of a pattern when, in fact, they are just random sores."

McGonagall shuddered. Snape looked up to see the boys glaring at him. He frowned and excused himself.

"Thank you, Severus," said McGonagall.

"My pleasure, Professor," replied Snape as he strode away.

"I've got the house elves disinfecting the boy's dormitory now. Are any of the others sick?"

"No, they're looking rather tired for some reason, but they're not anemic, nor do they have any sores on them."

The two women moved to Neville's bedside. Madame Pomfrey sat the box of vials on the table.

"Off you go, boys. Dinner's already started," said McGonagall.

Madame Pomfrey handed the goblet to Neville. "Drink all of it." She waited for him to finish.

"Mmm, nutmeg," said Neville.

Pomfrey collected the empty goblet and the box of vials and toddled off to her storeroom.

"How are you feeling, Longbottom?"

"I feel a lot better, Professor. I'm just really tired."

"I'll let you get some rest then, and I'll check in on you later."

Professor McGonagall peered suspiciously at Neville's four roommates as she strode by the Gryffindor table. They were so tired, they looked like zombies. Finnigan rested his chin on the table and was scraping food from his plate into his mouth. Dean Thomas' head rested on his fist. He scooped up a fork-full of food, missed his mouth, but still continued to chew. Weasley had never been seen to eat so slowly; his head periodically dropped so that his chin rested on his chest. Potter's head was cupped in one hand and hovered precariously over his mashed potatoes.

"Harry?" said Hermione. She was seated between Harry and Seamus. "Harry!" she said a little louder when he didn't respond.

"I don't know, I said!" shouted Harry as his head slid off his hand and onto his plate. Laughter erupted from both ends of the Gryffindor table when Harry raised his head to show his face covered in mashed potatoes and gravy.

"What is going on with you four?" said Hermione as she wiped potatoes off of Harry's face with her napkin.

"Nothing, Hermione," answered Ron. "We're just tired."

"All four of you? Are you sure you're not sick too?"

"Madame Pomfrey said we're fine," said Seamus.

"Stop chewing, Dean! You haven't got any food in your mouth." Dean forced open his heavy-lidded eyes and saw a large pile of food sitting in his lap. "You four are up to something, and I will find out what it is."

"Honestly, Hermione, we're just tired," insisted Harry.