Every night, Petunia and Vernon put Harry down to bed, they would pray just for a little rest, that tonight would be that night Harry would sleep peacefully; but he never did. In the middle of the night, every night, Petunia and Vernon would wake up to Harry screaming and crying. "Your turn," Vernon said, as he groaned and rolled over onto his side. Petunia rubbed her face, slowly sitting up, "I thought it was your turn." She said, but all she heard in reply was Vernon snoring. Petunia slipped on her slippers, stood and slowly walked to Harry's room; taking a quick look in Dudley's room to make sure he was still sleeping, which he was. Dudley always slept, even if there was a loud noise that filled the house. She walked to Harry's door, opening it slowly, there was Harry still screaming and crying. Petunia sighed, walked over to Harry, picked him up into her arms, made a "shhhh," sound and sat down in the rocking chair next to his crib. She'd rock back and forth, humming until both her and Harry fell asleep.
The dream that would replay in Harry's dreams every night, was the night Voldemort killed his parents; his own mother right in front of his eyes. The mother that would not get up off the floor as he cried.
As Harry grew older, he wouldn't cry or scream in his sleep, he would wake up instantly as the dream would become worse, then just lay awake waiting for the sun to come up, and cook breakfast for the Dursley's.
A/N: This was just something that had been playing in my head for a day or two that I wanted to write. I could find a way to make this into a story so I just made it short, maybe one day I could turn it into a story. Please leave a review. (: