AN: I am sorry. No, really, believe me when I say that I am.
The first few times it happened, Harry really didn't think much of it. He was a teenage boy, it was only natural.
After a while, though, he couldn't help but notice the faces of the people in his dreams, and at that point, he started getting a little bit alarmed. That the persons were male, he had no problem with at all – he was bisexual, so dicks or chicks didn't actually matter for him to get off – but that the majority of them were Death Eaters old enough to be his father, was quite a bit to swallow.
Still, most of them were definitely above average in looks and fitness and he got off, so he didn't bother to do anything to prevent having them, just made extra sure that the silencing charm around his bed was working as he went to sleep since he imagined that moaning take it Lucius, just like that wouldn't be so popular with his roommates.
The turning point came when he dreamt of Pettigrew for the very first time.
(Because One: so fucking disgusting.)
Harry started showing amazing development in the Occlumency-department, but given the amount of hours and work he had started to put into it he wasn't that surprised – but rather very, very relived.
(And Two: he really would have been so much better off not hearing that mumbled moan of yes Lord Voldemo-oort.)