Written for the prompt vivid at gen prompt bingo
There was a scream from somewhere, it was too loud to be very far away, the person had to be almost on top of Harry for him to be able to hear the scream at that volume. Realisation dawned as he tried to pull himself out of the funk he was in to find out who screamed; he had, the scream had ripped its way from his throat. His mind was slow and sluggish as it tried to catch up with what had happened, and figuring out why he had screamed, why he was still screaming and why he seemed to be unable to stop.
His door burst open, his uncle framed by the doorway just as a small pop alerted him to the apparition of his guard into his room. His uncle's yelling was cut off abruptly by the growling of his surrogate werewolf uncle, both sounds still being drowned out by his own screams. He watched with wide eyes as Remus walked towards him, and taking advantage of his open mouth poured a potion straight down his throat. It had to be a calming draft, it was the only explanation for the feeling of peace that settled through him as his screaming tapered off.
"Boy" Uncle Vernon began, about to start on into an angry tirade. He seemed to think better of it when Remus growled at him turning the full weight of his stare on him, until he seemed to shrink in on himself, a feat for Uncle Vernon considering the size of him, and leave the room rather quickly.
Remus settled himself on the end of Harry's bed, watching him considering for a moment before he spoke, "Was it a vision or a nightmare?"
"Nightmare." Harry croaked out, hoping that the man wouldn't press him. There were no details that needed to be handed over to the order about an attack or anything, so he was hoping Remus wouldn't expect him to talk. His dreams and his nightmares were his own, they were private and if he could he wanted to keep them to himself. He didn't want to have to relive them for someone else, especially not this one, it was too vivid to recount. He just wanted to forget it; not that his wish was possible, the nightmare was still playing like a movie behind his eyelids, and the smells and tastes from the nightmare seemed to invade his nose and mouth.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Remus offered, but seemed to accept and not push the matter when Harry began to shake his head violently. Instead he offered Harry a bottle of water from inside his robes and a vial of dreamless sleep potion.
Both were accepted gratefully and readily drunk, Harry knew that the only way that he wouldn't fall back into the nightmare was the potion, and that was one experience he didn't want to have again. It was too terrifying, too vivid, he was almost scared to close his eyes in case the potion didn't work. Maybe it was time when he got back to the school to apologise to Snape and try to get him to teach him occlumency, or teach him to brew a stronger version of the dreamless sleep potion. His last thought before the blissful nothingness of sleep drew him in was whether or not his nightmare could become a reality.