A/N: Hi everybody! I'm back! I am sorry this has taken so long, but my computer died a while ago and so I couldn't even turn it on and the first half of this chapter was still on there, so I was waiting until my computer would work again. I have now given up on this dream. My computer is long dead. So I don't really remember what I already wrote or where this story was going, but I am now going to pretend that I do. Enjoy!

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He gave the password, went through the portrait hole, then climbing the stairs to the boys dormitory. As he entered the room that presumably was Potter's (as the signs on the door read the years) he stopped in horror at what he saw.

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The only thing Harry was aware of was complete and total pain encompassing his entire body. It felt as though his insides were melting, burning, grinding, and crushing all at once. Even after he was pretty sure he'd woken up the pain continued in full force.

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As he stood there looking into the room, Snape was horrified by what he was looking at. Potter was screaming himself hoarse, his hands clutching the twisted and tangled bed sheets around him as if they were a lifeline. He made sudden, jerking movements as though jolts of pain were coursing through his body, which they undoubtedly were. What Snape noticed most though, was the look of complete torment and anguish on the boy's face.

He walked over to the bed and wondered how to wake the boy. Was he even asleep? "Potter," he said loudly, but was drowned out by the constant screaming. "Potter!" he yelled even louder. The boy made no indication that he'd heard him.

How could this be happening? It definitely shouldn't be escalating this fast. Then again, as Albus had said, he had nothing to compare this to. Damn. He should have just provided the boy with that potion.

Unable to think of anything else he could do, he took the boy's shoulders in his hands and shook him slightly, yelling his name into his ear.

Potter sat up immediately and stopped screaming, though it was clear that he was still in pain, as his eyes were still tightly closed and the grip on the sheets hadn't loosened. His jaw was also tightly clenched and Snape absently hoped that he wasn't biting his tongue off.

After a minute or so of the boy not saying or doing anything else, Snape quietly asked, "Can you hear me?" A brief nod. "Do you know where you are?" Might as well make sure the boy was coherent. Another nod. "Can you speak?" Yet another nod; ironically the boy kept silent. "Potter, look at me." At first there was no response, but then he gave a shake of his head. "That wasn't a request," he stated icily.

The boy slowly opened his eyes, but remained looking at the bed for a moment before quickly glancing at Snape, then looking away and closing his eyes again.

In the short moment that the boy's gaze met his own, Snape saw eyes that were far too old to be that of a teenage boy. He saw in them fear, pain, and tears-all of which were to be expected- but he also saw resolve, as if the boy knew that this was to be his life, every night full of pain. He was too young for this.

Carefully making his voice much gentler, Snape spoke again. "Potter, look at me," while he waited for those eyes to meet his, he took in the boy's quick, shallow breathing. Finally his eyes lifted to those of the Potions Master. "Has the pain subsided at all?" he asked quietly.

The boy opened his mouth to speak, but was unable to, no doubt from all of his previous screaming. Snape conjured a glass of water and held it out for him. The boy paused before unclenching his hand and unsteadily taking the glass. The glass spilled a little as he drank, but when he was done he whispered, "thank you, sir."

Snape took the glass and set it on the bedside table. "Is the pain gone yet?"

"No," came the quiet response.

"Are you alright?" That was probably a stupid question, but it seemed like something the boy should answer. He noticed that the boy's hand was clenched into a fist once again, his fingernails likely digging into his palm.

"I don't know, sir."

Snape really wanted to give the boy some more of the Dolormora potion, but he knew it was addicting. He mentally battled with himself for a minute or so before giving in. "Has the pain lessened any?"

"No, sir."

Snape sighed then quickly removed a small bottle and handed it to the boy. He quickly drank the potion then sighed in obvious relief and lay back against his pillow and closed his eyes. "Thank you, sir." He seemed to be drifting back to sleep, but then sat up suddenly and opened his eyes, as if he didn't want to; Snape realized that he was probably scared to.

Silently, Snape assessed the situation. Albus had told him that he was allowed to tell Potter what he knew about what was happening if he felt the situation required it. The boy really should know so he could mentally prepare himself for what lay ahead. But was this the right time to tell him, so soon after another nightmare? But then, the nightmares weren't likely to go away.

Suddenly Snape realized that, even though he had believed the boy should know, he had never really thought about being the one to tell him. After this, he didn't particularly want to be the one. He sighed slightly. But he was the only other person in the castle right now other than the boy, and Albus wouldn't be returning for a while and Potter needed to be informed sooner than that.

But if he did have to tell him, he didn't have to tell him in this room, surrounded by hideous Gryffindor colors. "Can you walk?"

A pause. "Yes, sir. I think so."

Snape stepped back from the boy in order to allow the boy to get up. The process was a slow one, requiring a lot of energy from the boy. The potion, while suspending the pain, did not suspend the weakness that the pain left behind. After a few moments, the boy was standing and looked relatively steady on his feet. He reached for his glasses then slipped them onto his face. "Come with me." Snape quietly ordered.

He began to walk slowly towards the door, making sure the boy was following, and then continued through the common room, out the portrait hole, and down through the castle towards the dungeons. As they walked, Snape considered the best way of telling the boy. He'd never been one to sugarcoat the truth, but the truth was so awful that… no. The boy needed to know the truth. Would the boy believe him? He thought for a moment. Yes, he had no choice but to believe him, especially after this last nightmare.

A noise from behind him brought his mind back to the dark hallway. He turned around and saw the boy about twenty feet back, leaning against the wall as if it were the only thing holding him up. He was breathing heavily and looked as if he were trying to catch his breath. Could the potion have worn off already? Surely not. But it didn't look as if he were in pain; he looked thoroughly exhausted.

Snape sighed, realizing that his fast pace had probably, once again, worn him out. Odd how the boy hadn't said anything throughout the entire walk through the castle. He walked over to him while asking a little sarcastically, "Are you alright?"

The boy nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine." Regardless of his words, the boy's heavy breathing continued as the wall supported him.

Snape sighed. "No, you're not." He took the boy's arm in his hand to support him a little. "Come on, we're almost there." He began to walk again towards his office, beginning to regret his decision to bring the boy down there even if all of his notes upon this subject were in his desk. The closer they came to the office, the more Snape began to feel the boy's weight-light as that was- being supported by his arm. They finally reached the classroom and walked through it to the attached office. When they entered, Snape quickly led the boy to a chair across from his desk and he gratefully sat down. "Thank you, sir," he said quietly, still breathing too hard.

Snape walked around his desk and sat in his chair as he watched the teenager across from him begin to slow his breathing down.

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Harry suddenly heard a voice through the pain and felt himself being shaken. That was enough to bring him back to consciousness. He heard the voice from far away asking questions. Was it talking to him? It must be. Could he hear him? Well, yes, of course. That was a silly question. He nodded. Did he know where he was? Again, what a weird question. He was in his bed in the tower, so he nodded again. Could he speak? Of course he could, why wouldn't he be able to?

"Potter, look at me."

I know that voice. Damn it. What was Snape doing here? He didn't want that git to see him like this. So he shook his head. He didn't want to see the man's taunting eyes. He could almost hear him mocking him for being weak. Poor Potter, a shame he's not strong enough to handle this. Too much like his father for his own good. Oh, but then that voice again. Finally he gave in and only quickly glanced at the man, the pain still soaring through him. But he could handle this. This was what his life was, wasn't it? Full of pain.

After a little more time went by when his professor thankfully said nothing, his voice came once again.

"Potter, look at me." The voice, while demanding, wasn't as harsh as it had been before, so Harry decided to obey. The world was a bit blurry because he didn't have his glasses on, but he figured that was ok. "Has the pain subsided at all?" Even without his glasses, Harry could see that the man's face lacked it's usual hateful glare, so he figured it couldn't hurt to answer the question, but when he opened his mouth to speak, he discovered his throat was to dry to do so. He'd probably been screaming during his nightmare. Damn. Snape had probably heard that.

He realized that Snape was holding out a glass of water for him. That was strange. He slowly released his hold on the bed sheets and took the glass. He hadn't even been aware of himself holding onto the sheets. He drank the water gratefully and couldn't remember water tasting so good in a long time. "Thank you, sir," he whispered once his throat felt better. The glass was then gone from his hand.

"Is the pain gone yet?" asked the voice.

Ha, like it would ever be gone, he thought. "No," he said instead.

"Are you alright?"

That was a strange question coming from Snape, but then again, hadn't he recently asked him the same thing? Was he alright? The pain was still definitely there, but it was nothing he couldn't handle. He settled for an honest answer. "I don't know, sir."

The man didn't say anything for a few moments, but then reluctantly asked if the pain had subsided any.

"No, sir," he replied. It felt as though the pain would never go away; it still burned him from the inside. He saw Snape pull a small bottle out of his robes and hand it to him, so he took it and drank it quickly, hoping it was the same potion as before. After a moment the pain filling his body dissolved and he relaxed into his pillow. "Thank you, sir."

He felt sleep pulling him deeper into the bed when he suddenly sat up. He couldn't go to sleep. Sleep meant nightmares, and nightmares meant pain. After a little while of struggling to stay awake, Snape spoke again.

"Can you walk?"

No, probably not. "Yes, sir. I think so." He then tried to stand up from his bed. He still felt incredibly weak but he at last was able to stand. He slipped his glasses onto his face, figuring it wouldn't be good to run into a wall with Snape there.

"Come with me."

'Where?' his mind asked, but he followed anyways. At last, he figured out that they were going down to the dungeons. That made sense. But it was such a long walk! The father they went, the more tired he became and the farther he walked behind Snape. The man had an annoyingly fast pace. It wasn't so bad at first, but Harry was sure that the man sped up as they went.

As they reached the dungeons, Harry's strength began to give out. No! They were so close! The thought of appearing so weak that he couldn't even walk through the castle in front of Snape horrified him. But then his strength of will and his strength of body crashed into one another as he gasped and fell against the wall in exhaustion. He was so tired.

Then Snape was standing in front of him. "Are you alright?" he asked almost mockingly.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Harry lied.

A pause. "No, you're not." Was he really that easy to see through? He felt a hand grip his arm to support him. That was definitely strange, but it helped, a lot. They made their way down to Snape's office where he was finally able to sit down. That felt good. "Thank you, sir."

Harry sat there, trying to slow his breathing down and relax. He was barely aware of the man across from him staring at him until he quietly said, "It's time you know the truth."

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A/N: Hahahahaha! Yes, I am going to leave it there. I'm once again very sorry about not being able to update recently, but now I give you Chapter 4. Chapter 5 should be coming soon. I'll probably start working on it today, but I wanted to at least update a little.

Oh, QUESTION: I am just a curious person, so I am wondering where my readers are from. I'm from Northern California. Please review and tell me!

Have a wonderful day everybody!