Harry leaned against the door of the spare bedroom, breathing heavily. His entire body ached, his arm giving off a sharp pain with every step. But mostly he felt like an idiot.
He had fainted again. When he noticed the Dementors coming, it had taken everything just to not crash his broom. But then the bludger hit him…
He had heard his dad this time, screaming with his mother, begging to spare them, trying to fight off Voldemort. His voice had been deep and desperate. But it had not wavered as he argued with Voldemort.
He hated hearing his parents, in their final moment. But it was also the only time he has ever heard their voices. Some small part of him almost wanted to seek out a Dementor, just to hear them again. It was a part that scared him.
Harry sat down gingerly on the bed, feeling sad and confused and embarrassed. Snape probably pitied him, saw him as some desperate lost child or something. It was probably the reason why Snape put up with him at all. He burrowed himself under the covers, not even caring to remove his glasses or shoes. He was just too tired…
…Harry woke sometime in the night. There was sound, strange. Like a voice that was very far away, or buried in something…He couldn't quite make out what it was saying, but it made his skin crawl.
There was also a weight on his chest, painful against his bruised ribs.
"Harry Potter is still here? Harry Potter is not sent away yet?"
Harry opened his eyes and sat up quickly, dislodging a small body from his chest. "Dobby!" He almost shouted. "What are you doing here?" he hissed, looking to the shut door. His vision was blurry and he groped for his glasses, which were folded neatly on the nightstand.
Dobby came into focus, still wearing that awful sack, which he rung between his fingers. "Dobby had to! Dobby has to protect Harry Potter!"
Harry blinked. "What? What are you talking about?"
"Harry Potter still went to school, despite Dobby's warnings, despite Dobby's good intentions-"
"Your good intentions? Do you know what the Dursleys-" Harry stopped himself, feeling something vile rise into his throat. Dobby didn't seem to notice, however.
"If Harry Potter was so grievously injured, he would have to leave Hogwarts!"
"Wait, you cursed the bludger? It nearly killed me!"
Dobby let out a moan and began to pound his head against the bed stand. Harry reached out, tugging him away. It made his arm twinge, but he was too scared of Snape bursting into the room. "But Harry Potter is in danger!"
"Yeah, obviously from you!" Harry managed to get a hold of both his wrists. "What other danger is there?"
Dobby shook his head, almost violently. "Dobby cannot say. Dobby cannot-" He was struggling to free himself from Harry's grasp when he suddenly looked up, and with a pop, completely disappeared.
Harry stared at the empty air dumbly, but there was a knock on his door. Then Snape entered, looking at him critically. "You are awake?" he asked, waving a wand and lighting the room with a dim light.
Harry slowly lowered his arms. "Yes." Snape's eyes were critical though, looking over him slowly.
"Have you remained here all evening?"
"Yes…?"
"And have you heard or seen anything?"
Harry decided that Snape probably wouldn't believe Dobby. Harry wasn't all to sure what he was about himself. He shook his head. "What are you talking about?"
Snape only nodded and turned from him, sweeping back into the hallway. Harry quickly stood to follow, but the voice returned again. He had thought he had been dreaming, but it seemed to resound around in the very walls of the dungeon.
…must find…
…must…
…kill…
…KILL…
Harry's knees hit the floor hard next to the bed. The voice echoed and faded away. Snape appeared at his side, rough hand helping him to stand. "Harry? What is it?"
"What…what was that?"
"What?"
"That…" Harry took in a big gulp of air. "That voice…?"
"Voice? Did you hear something?"
Harry felt a wave of dizziness and clung to the front of Snape's robes. "The voice. Didn't you hear it?"
Snape was looking at him, eyes narrowed with confusion. Then Harry realized that Snape hadn't heard it. But it hadn't been a dream, right? He had really heard it, right?
"Potter," Snape's voice was a forced calm. "What did the voice say?"
Harry felt his insides clenching and he took a step back. Was Dobby just a dream too? Was this all some terrible Dementor inspired nightmare? He needed to go to sleep. That seemed right. "Nothing. Nothing, I'm tired."
"What do you mean, Potter?"
Harry quickly shook his head. "Dream, nightmare or something. I'm tired."
Snape leaned down, carefully taking Harry's injured arm. It ached unpleasantly. "Do you need anything? Do you need to tell me anything?"
"No," Harry backed away, crawling into the bed. "No, I'm just tired."