Author's Note: Wow… Two story's in a week. Yay team! I don't know where this came from. I heard the story calling to me and figured I should put my fingers on a keyboard before I lost it. We'll see where this goes. The ending might suck, again... No flames please?

Come to me…

Harry sat up in bed and looked around blearily. It was the middle of the night. His dorm mates were sleeping. He'd taken a dreamless sleep potion the night before. The night was quiet. The forest was silent. The wind was calm. What had woken him up?

Come to me, love… Come…

Looking around, Harry swung his legs out over the edge of his bed. Without thinking, he stood and left the dorm, descending from the seventh year dorm room. He paused in the middle of the common room. No one was awake. The clock in the corner told him it was "Not time to be out of bed". The fire had died. The coals were a dark red. What had woken him up?

Come to me, my darling… I need you… Come to me…

Pulled by something he couldn't describe, harry stepped out of the portrait hole. The fat lady didn't make a sound. The portraits were all quiet. As Harry made his way down from the seventh floor to the entrance hall, he didn't even run into a teacher. Not even Mrs. Norris was stalking the halls. All was still. Eerily still. What had woken him up?

Precious, I need you… Come to me… Come to me, my darling…

Harry continued walking. In a trance, he descended into the dungeons. The fire sconces on the walls cast eerie shadows. His feet echoed softly down the corridor. The Slytherin's were probably safe inside their dorm rooms. They were all probably sound asleep in their warm beds. The only sound in the dungeons, indeed, the only sound in the castle, was the gentle padding of his bare feet. What had woken him up?

Darling… I need you now… Come, love… to me… Now…

Harry came to a door deep in the dungeons. There was a portrait on the door. Its occupant was asleep. Harry reached out a hand and gently turned the knob. The door opened soundlessly. The portrait remained asleep. With a nearly inaudible 'click' the door shut again.

Come to me, darling… Come…

Inside, the room was dark. The only light was from the last of the embers in the fireplace. The room was dark. Harry's feet led him across the room to another door. Again, he pushed it open silently. He stepped inside the room. There was a bed at the center. A candle burned low on the bedside table. The beds occupant lay still in the middle of the bed face tight in pain.

Come… Closer, my darling… Come…

"I am here…" Harry whispered, taking a step forward. "I have come…"

Closer, precious… Come to me…

"I am here…" Harry approached the bed slowly, arms at his sides. "Fear no more, I am here. I have come… for you…"

Suddenly, the beds occupant's eyes shot open. Black eyes stared at Harry in terror. Lips drew back into a sneer after a moment, revealing straight, slightly yellowed teeth. Tense arms lifted a lean torso off the bed. Long legs swung around, lifting the well muscled body off the bed.

"Potter!" snapped a cold voice.

Suddenly, as though he'd been hit in the stomach with a quaffle, Harry staggered back. A fog lifted from his mind, leaving him to control his own actions. He glanced around himself in horror and confusion, recalling every step of his trip here. Steeling himself, he looked up into the incredibly angry face of his potions professor.

"What are you doing here, Potter?" Severus hissed. His voice, while angry, wrapped around Harry, much like the voice from before.

"Uhm…" Harry reached up and pushed his glasses up his nose. "You – or someone – called me here, Professor."

Severus rolled his eyes. "You heard a strange voice and decided to follow it?" He nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, yes, I see. That sounds like a brilliant bloody plan!"

Harry flinched as Severus yelled in his face. he did understand though. Completely. The last time he'd followed a mysterious voice, it had turned out to be a deadly snake.

"But, professor, I couldn't help it," Harry began. Then he was interrupted.

"It's very easy to not follow a mysterious voice, Potter! You just don't follow it!" Shaking his head, Severus pinched the bridge of his nose, shutting his eyes. "Leave, potter," he said after a long pause. "Just get out of my rooms and go back to bed. I'll give you a detention in the morning."

Not doubting Severus for a second, Harry turned to go. At the door, he paused and turned. Severus had sat down on his bed, elbows on his knees, head in his hands.

"Professor," Harry said softly. Severus' head snapped up eyes wide with alarm. "Are you alright?" the boy continued.

"I'm fine, Potter. Leave." Severus' voice broke and he scowled, shaking his head.

"Is it Voldemort, sir?"

"The Dark Lord is dead, Potter. Leave. Now."

"Professor, his body may be physically dead but that doesn't mean he's done haunting people. It's okay to have... Uhm... nightmares." Harry reached up a hand and scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. When Severus didn't answer he continued, "I still dream about Cedric. And Dumbledore... Free falling off the astronomy tower... I'll never forget what Voldemort did to Hermione. Ron and I visit her all the time but... She can't remember. She's always asking us where her scars came from. And every time I look at Teddy, I remember Remus and Tonks. Every dream I have these days is filled with green light and screams and that... high pitched cackle..." Harry shrugged. "It's okay if you're still suffering, professor." He sniffed softly and turned, leaving Severus' bedroom.

He had his hand on the door handle when he was stopped by a soft, pain filled voice.

"He had a muggle family at our final meeting." Harry turned to see Severus standing in the door way. He had his candle in his hands and the haunted look in his eyes was not helped by the flickering light. Harry took a few steps toward him, only to be stopped when Severus finally made eye contact. "That was nothing new... But we weren't just torturing them. We were going to make a statement. Voldemort said that, going into the final battle, we had to be a strong as possible. WE had to be so sure of our statement of purpose that we could say it backwards with a wand held to our throat." He clenched his eyes shut and shook his head. "They screamed... a lot... There was a little boy. He had blonde hair and dark blue eyes. He didn't... didn't understand... And his sister... she had long brown hair and green eyes." He laughed bitterly. "She tried to fight back. Even pulled a knife on Lucius." He stopped then, eyes opening slowly. He gazed passed harry, his jaw clenched, as though he could see the events right there in the middle of his living room floor. Finally he screamed and tossed his candle aside. He let out a single sob and met Harry's eyes again. "They wouldn't stop screaming." Then, as though someone had flipped a switch, he collapsed to his knees, sobbing.

Harry walked forward carefully and crouched down beside his professor. Tentatively, he reached a hand out, placing it on Severus' shoulder. The potions master leaned into the touch causing Harry to wrap his arms around the man and pull him close.

They stayed like that for a long time. Harry on his knees, leaning forward with his arms around Severus' broad shoulders. Severus leaning on his hip sobbing into Harry's chest. Severus' sobs were loud and heart breaking. They echoed around the room, rebounding into Harry's ears. The total devastation in the sound brought tears to his eyes as well and, before he knew it, he was crying right along with Severus.

A while later, after both had stopped crying, Severus pulled back. His eyes were red, his cheeks flushed from the tears. Harry smiled softly at the awkward look in his eyes.

Severus cleared his throat and stood, pulling Harry along with him. "Thank you, Potter. I trust you understand this doesn't leave this room?"

Harry nodded. "Of course."

"Now, Potter," Severus started, morphing into professor mode, "What was this voice you heard?" He seemed expectant. As though he already knew.

"It was soft. And pleading. It was like I couldn't get here fast enough. It only stopped when you woke up." Harry frowned.

"And why did you follow the voice?" Severus raised an eyebrow.

Harry laughed and raised his hand. "Saviour." He said with a smirk.

Severus nodded as though the answer made perfect sense. Then he said, "The voice you heard was my soul calling out to yours." Harry looked surprised. Severus nodded again. "I took a potion before I retired for the night. I've been growing tired of the dreams." Suddenly the man looked nervous. His hands twitched and his eyes darted around the room, looking anywhere but at Harry. "I grew tired of suffering alone. The dreams have been happening since the end of the battle. Faces of people I don't remember, people I tortured or murdered or handed over to the Dark Lord… They haunt me even when I'm awake." He shook his head, hands tightening into fists. "Most nights I take dreamless sleep but the feeling is still there. The dread and the regret and the terror and the desperation." He shook his head again, as though he could get rid of the things that haunted him that way.

After a long pause Harry prodded Severus gently. "Professor… The potion?"

That worked. "Every person in the world has a match; someone who will be the perfect anything for them, whether that is a friend or a lover or a parent or a teacher. The potion I took activated a signal, of sorts. My soul called out to yours, pulling you to me. The magic in the potion cleared all obstacles to allow you to come to me as soon as I needed you. Your soul answered, bringing you to me without your conscious knowledge of it. I must admit, Potter, the irony that you are my… whatever, is not lost on me."

Harry's brow furrowed in confusion. "What?"

Laughing softly, Severus poked harry lightly in the chest. "Saviour." He said. Harry had to laugh at that.

"So…" Harry said after a pause, "Does this mean you're my 'whatever' too?" Inwardly, Harry hoped it was true. It would be nice to be saved for once.

"Not necessarily," Severus replied. "But, if you take this potion," He handed harry a vile filled with a soft yellow liquid. Then he continued, "You will find your 'whatever'. Take it when you go back to sleep tonight."

Harry nodded and turned to go. The clear dismissal in Severus' voice was not lost on him.

"Harry," The voice stopped Harry on the threshold. He looked over his shoulder. Severus was smiling softly. "Thank you." Harry nodded and slipped out, closing the door. He made it back up to the seventh floor without incident. When he crawled back into bed, he took the potion, placing the empty vile and his glasses on the bedside table.

Curling up in under his covers, Harry wished silently for the potion to work. He thought about everything he'd done, everyone who lectured him on going out alone, everyone who nagged him about his training, all the hugs he'd wanted and never gotten over the years, all the tears he'd shed into his pillow. He thought back over the last seventeen years and prayed for anyone who would be his anything just so he wouldn't be alone amidst crowds of people anymore.

Severus was reading a book of advanced potions essays. After Harry had left, he'd been too wired to go back to bed. He'd relit the fireplace and the wall sconces and settled into his favourite armchair to read for a while.

He hadn't really been reading. He'd been reconsidering the evening's happenings. When Harry had first appeared in his rooms, he'd been furious; sure the boy had been there to prank him. Then he'd started talking about a voice and Severus had been stunned. It wasn't until the boy had left his bedroom, and almost his living room, that Severus had realized how obvious it was. Harry knew Severus' whole story, having been told and shown memories, for his training. The two of them had not only trained together, but had also gone on missions together. They hadn't been friends, not by a long shot, but they had learnt to be civil. Not…

Harry was his –

Come to me…

Severus stopped reading his book instantly. That voice…

Please… Come, my darling…

Severus frowned and stood, leaving his quarters on silent feet. It didn't take long for him to navigate out of the dungeons to the entrance hall. The voice had called him darling…

Come to me, my love… I need you…

Before long, Severus found himself on the seventh floor in front of the fat lady's portrait. He laughed as the portrait swung open, not bothering the painting in the slightest. He crossed the dark common room quickly, ascending the stairs to the seventh year boys' dormitory.

Come to me… Please, love… I need you…

"I'm coming," Severus whispered, pushing the door open. Harry lie in bed, tears streaming down his cheeks. His face was white, fists clenched tightly to the blanket pulled up to his chin.

Severus leaned down without thinking and brushed the hair from Harry's sweaty forehead. "Harry," He murmured, "Wake up, Harry. I'm here…"

The boy's eyed snapped open, darting around the room in terror. After a few moments he focused on Severus. He laughed softly through his tears and threw his arms around Severus' neck, hugging him close.

Murmuring softly, Severus lied down on the bed next to Harry. He pulled the small boy to his chest and closed the curtains on the bed.

"I'm here, Harry," He whispered and closed his eyes, fully intending to stay the night.

"So am I, Severus," Harry replied.

No more was said as both drifted to sleep.

Author's Note: I hate writing endings. Ending a chapter is easy. Ending a book? Not so much. A bad ending can so easily ruin a good story. I think that's what happened here. Or well. Don't judge me too harshly.