HAPPY NEW YEAR 2017! Hope all of you amazing guys out there had an amazing year, and hope you all will have an even better year. 2017 brings you another 365 days. Fill them with happy times, smiles and laughter. Create memories that will last your lifetime. Live your life to the fullest and have no regrets.
I just want to tell you brilliant readers that wherever you are, whatever you do, whoever you are, you were just marvelous. Thank you so much, many times over, for reading this story, leaving reviews, favorites, and follows. Every single chapter I typed was encouraged by the fact that you guys were waiting to read it.
My wonderful, fantastic readers, thank you so so so much for the 133 reviews, 116 faves, and 200 follows this story has received so far. They make my day, my week!
Your reviews left me determined to write more, better chapters. It's so good to know that my efforts are appreciated.
So once again, my dear incredible readers, thank you.
Hope you enjoy this 25th chapter!
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Severus Snape jerked out of his light uncomfortable doze when the quiet atmosphere of the semi-lit infirmary was disrupted by a piercing scream.
His head whipped around to see Potter gasping and shifting on his bed, clearly having a terrible nightmare. His hands clenched and unclenched in the bed sheets, beads of sweat shone on his temple, and worst of all…
The curse scar on Potter's forehead was a deep crimson in stark contrast with his pale skin. The trembling body and the painful expression on the boy's face indicated that this was no ordinary nightmare.
Poppy slipped out of her office with a dressing gown wrapped haphazardly around her, a worried look on her face. She too froze at the sight of the inflamed scar prominently displayed on Potter's forehead.
Another horrific scream jolted the two adults into action. Snape slid out of bed, moving quickly over to the next one, while Poppy lit up the hospital wing.
Somehow Snape felt that none of them would be getting any more sleep tonight.
Cold.
He was cold, but he could not possibly be.
He was scared, but he was not at all scared, he was gleeful.
He was alone in the cold…
Then there were a pair of hands on him, firmly gripping his shoulders.
"Wake up, Potter!"
It was too cold and windy.
"Potter!"
There were freezing cloaked shadows around him.
"Potter!"
He couldn't breathe…they were too close –
Harry woke up with a gasp.
For a moment he had the wild thought that he had to cast his patronas. He shook himself out of it, looking around and taking in the familiar surroundings of the hospital wing.
Both Snape and Madame Pomfey were looking at him strangely.
He realized he was still shaking from the horrible nightmare he had had. But however much he tried, he couldn't stop. It was as if the chill from the dream had seeped into his very bones, and now it wouldn't leave him.
Madame Pomfrey came forward and gently laid a hand on his shoulder. "Harry, are you all right?"
Harry could only nod shakily.
The mediwitch sighed and produced a vial of something which she then proceeded to pour down his throat. Immediately his tense muscles un-knotted, and some of the cold and discomfort faded from his mind. A Calming Drought.
"Would you like to tell us what happened, Harry?" The use of his first name, if anything, betrayed the woman's worry.
Harry shook his head, the Calming Drought doing nothing to loosen his tongue. His scar throbbed incessantly, and he brought up a trembling hand to rub at it. Immediately the mediwitch and the potions master exchanged glances, before Snape murmured something to Pomfrey. She nodded and disappeared in the direction of her office.
Snape leveled a penetrating gaze at Harry.
"What?" Harry muttered, pushing his glasses up more securely on his nose where he had hastily placed them, and wrapped his arms around himself to try and stave off the chill within him.
The worst of the storm had apparently passed. It was still raining heavily, but the rolls of thunder and bolts of lightning were few and far in between.
Merlin, it was truly cold. He summoned his wand and cast a warming charm on himself, trying to ignore Snape's stare.
But he didn't place the wand back where it was kept. He slid his trembling fingers along its length, and struggled against his instincts to cast his patronas. At the next shiver, though, he succumbed and raised his wand with a shaky hand.
He ignored the "Potter!" from Snape.
"Expecto Patronum!"
A glowing white stag burst out of the tip of wand, and he instantly felt a lot better. The stag pranced around him, and bravely leaped over the scowling Snape who ducked reflexively.
"What on earth are you doing, Potter?"
Harry chose not to reply, instead focusing on the brilliant form leaping around the room, leaving misty white trails behind it. Finally, after one last round, it returned, cocked its antlers at Harry and disappeared.
The cold seemed to return with a rush, even though Harry's patronas had chased away the worst of it.
Only few minutes had passed when Madame Pomfrey emerged from her office followed by Dumbledore.
The old wizard was in pale blue and cream robes, and compared to his normally garish robes, these were nice, so tame that Harry couldn't stop himself from dropping his jaw.
"Harry, how are you feeling?" Dumbledore crossed the distance between them, and seated himself at the foot of his bed.
"Fine, sir…" Harry pushed the unconvincing answer through cool lips.
Dumbledore, instead of calling him out on his lie, turned to Pomfrey. "How are his injuries, Poppy?"
"They've healed well, he's well enough to leave in the morning."
The Headmaster nodded and turned back to Harry. "What did you see, Harry?"
Harry hesitated. He needed Dumbledore to explain what was happening, but at the same time he was reluctant to lay bare his weaknesses. He barely noticed Madame Pomfrey softly excuse herself and disappear back to her office.
His eyes flickered towards Snape who was still standing there.
Dumbledore must have noticed, for he said, "Harry, Professor Snape is a trusted teacher. He as well as I will do our utmost best to help you."
Harry grimaced to himself. "It's nothing…just nightmares…"
"And these nightmares, what are they about?"
Harry just looked up at the Headmaster, unable to say his name out loud, hoping the Headmaster would figure it out.
"They're about Tom…?"
Harry nodded, feeling miserable. "I would rather say Voldemort…"
Dumbledore understood what he meant. "Indeed. How long has this been going on, my boy?"
"A few weeks now…I think…"
"And tonight?"
Harry rubbed his hands together, trying to chase that nonexistent cold away. "Tonight…I don't know…but Tom's not here, is he?"
Dumbledore looked towards Snape and Harry followed his gaze, catching Snape's shake of his head.
"He's somewhere outside…it was very windy…and it was freezing. And I felt…there was this unnatural gloom…a severe chill…and an awful atmosphere…closing in and I couldn't breathe…it was –they were dark…" Harry trailed off as he realized what he was describing. "Yes…Dementors! There were so many dementors…"
"Harry," Dumbledore interrupted. "Do you know where Tom is?"
Harry frowned. "No. I don't know where he is." Dumbledore exchanged a glance with Severus.
He looked down at his hands locked together on his lap. What was Tom doing?
…
"Harry?" Remus came striding into the hospital wing, a worried expression on his face. His eyes immediately took him in, scanning over his pale skin and shivering form.
When Remus had woken up to Albus Dumbledore at his fireplace, asking him if he would come down to the hospital wing because Harry would likely need him, he had immediately been afraid that one of his injuries from the Quidditch match had worsened.
He could plainly see now that that was not the case.
The Headmaster, seated on Harry's bed, was wearing a pensive expression on his face – not one he wore often. And Snape was skulking behind, his arms crossed, and his dark eyes fixed on Harry.
Harry himself did not look well. The shivering, the pale face, and the bowed head all indicated that something grave was afoot.
At the sound of Remus's voice, Harry had looked up. His initial reaction had been to smile faintly, before it clearly faded away, as if he only now became aware of his appearance. But Remus had been struck speechless by the lightning bolt mark on Harry's forehead.
It was inflamed, standing out on his forehead like some terrible omen of doom, and Remus suddenly realized the gravity of Harry's situation. Marked by a Dark Lord, thrust into danger at every turn…and now it seemed that a few Quidditch injuries were the least of his worries.
Remus felt a sharp pang in his chest. Harry suddenly looked very small and fragile, sitting cross legged on the white bed. His werewolf instincts reared – protect him hold him precious cub – and it was all he could do not to rush across the ward to engulf Harry in a bear – or rather werewolf – hug.
Instead he strode over to the slender bespectacled boy and sank down beside him. He raised his hand to squeeze his shoulder for some semblance of comfort, but what happened was completely startling.
When he raised his hand, Harry jerked and flinched away.
Remus froze.
Dumbledore and Snape both looked surprised.
Remus's heart plummeted. Clearly Harry was shaken by something, but to refuse his comfort was one thing. To flinch away… It just showed how little Harry trusted him. A lump started forming at the back of Remus's throat. He couldn't stop. He kept letting everyone around him down. He was failing everyone…
"Remus, perhaps we ought to leave Harry to his rest," Dumbledore interrupted his internal breakdown with a knowing look in his eyes. Harry raised his head wearily.
"I don't want to sleep…" he said in a drained voice. Remus hated it. Hated that James's and Lily's son was so weary. So weighed down.
Dumbledore slowly patted Harry's shoulder. "You need some rest, my boy. You haven't slept properly in weeks, have you?"
The defensive way in which Harry hunched his shoulders was all the answers Remus needed.
He wanted to be a house elf for a moment, just so he could punish himself. Harry had been attending his lessons, they'd even had tea together a few days back, and Remus hadn't noticed anything.
Snape came forward with a small vial. "Dreamless sleeping drought. You will, hopefully, be dead to the world till morning." Gryffindor though he was, Remus immediately noticed the lack of a sneer on Snape's face.
Snape had spent the night next to Harry. What had happened that was serious enough to bring the Headmaster down to the hospital at midnight? What had happened that was grim enough to temper down Snape's famous hatred of Harry?
Why didn't he know anything?
Harry was eying the potion warily. Dumbledore leaned forward. "You need this reprieve, Harry. Tomorrow will not be an easy day for any of us…"
Harry grimaced. "But–" He suddenly broke off, with a sharp draw of breath, and closed his eyes for a moment.
Dumbledore's fingers tightened on Harry's shoulder. Remus noticed the tense look on the Headmaster's face.
"What is it, my boy?"
Harry did not move for a few silent minutes. But then he sighed and opened his eyes. He opened his mouth, but his voice was so soft that Remus had to depend on his sensitive wolf hearing.
"He's pleased."
Remus frowned. What did that mean? It must have meant something, something grave, if the increased tension on both Dumbledore's and Snape's faces were anything to go by. But who was 'he'?
Snape held up the vial again. "You need this, Potter. Stop being stubborn."
Still Harry resisted. "No…I– I need to be awake when he returns…."
"That will not help, Harry. I daresay he will not return anytime soon." Dumbledore said.
Remus watched Harry's features blur between exhaustion and worry, and spoke. "Listen to me, Harry. It's past midnight now. You're tired, aren't you? Take the potion. At least you'll be well rested to face whatever this problem is."
A moment of considering later, Harry nodded and downed the potion. As he placed his spectacles on the table with a shaky hand, his eyes were slipping closed. At that moment he looked younger and more tired than ever.
Remus gently eased him onto the pillow and tucked the blanket securely around him to stave off the chill.
All three men stood for a second, staring down at the sleeping thirteen year old.
Then Dumbledore broke the silence. "Well, he'll sleep peacefully for a few hours. Perhaps he had better spend the morning here as well. We shall see. Remus, it's been a tiring night, and I'm sure you wouldn't be opposed to a couple of more hours of sleep. Severus, I'm afraid I'll have to prevent you from following Remus – I would like to speak with you up in my office." Snape inclined his head with another glance at Harry.
"I'm not returning to bed." Remus stated firmly. He gave the sleeping boy a final glance and turned to face the other two adults. "Something serious happened here tonight and I need to know what."
Dumbledore sighed. "Remus, I understand, but I'm afraid there's nothing you can do…"
"No, Headmaster. I've never seen Harry in this state before. I need to hear what happened." He thought of a haunted and hunted man sitting in a lonely house worrying for his godson. "And so does Sirius."
A long stretch of silence followed, broken only by a crash of thunder.
"Very well." Dumbledore said, stroking his beard. "However, I believe we had better discuss this at the Headquarters then."
"Of course, Headmaster," Remus quickly interjected, relieved to be getting some answers for once. "We can Floo from my office."
Now the question was, would Remus actually want to hear it once he heard it?
Dumbledore paused on his way out, and gave a long look to the bouquet of deep red roses in the beautiful crystal vase on Harry's bedside table. Both Remus and Severus followed Dumbledore's gaze.
"Those are lovely…" Remus commented softly. Truly they were. The velvet petals were of the highest quality. And, Remus suddenly hysterically thought, gorgeous enough to be a lover's gift.
"Indeed they are, Remus. I wonder who gifted them to Harry." Dumbledore sent an inquiring glance to Snape. "His two friends, Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger, perhaps?"
"No, they were from…Mr. Riddle."
Remus's eyebrows shot up. Riddle in Slytherin?
"Quite the gesture." Dumbledore said slowly, before walking out at a brisk pace.
Remus quickly followed, pushing it out of his head. There were more pressing matters to worry about at the moment.
...
I don't know if this was good, but if it was, (and even if it wasn't) please leave reviews for me. I really want to hear your thoughts on this chapter, and on this entire story.
Again, Happy New Year!
Thanks for reading!
