CHAPTER TWO-
"You sure you're all right, Harry?"
Harry sighed, trying not to look either of his very concerned friends in the eye. Hermione was easy, as she had pulled a book she thought might help Harry decrease his nightmares out and was scanning it for useful details. "Yes, Ron...just tired. You know," Almost unwillingly, his right hand reached up to brush his scar. "bad dreams."
Ron, fortunately, didn't notice. He was too busy watching the giant squid wave cheerfully to a second year. "Boy, do I know," He said distractedly, trying to work out how many truffles he could sneak back to the Gryffindor commons without Filch or McGonogal taking them. Half his mind on trying to remember exactly how many extra pockets the robe he was wearing had (courtesy of Fred or George), he continued the conversation with only a portion of concentration. "Kept having this dream over the summer... A Blast-ended Skrewt was chasing me with my Divination homework, yelling about how I needed to be more open to the mystic forces..."
Harry nodded, muttered something he hoped sounded agreeable and slowed down, dragging his feet and trying not to gag from the honey he could still taste. He'd eaten three chocolate frogs and a pumpkin pasty, and he still tasted decaying clovers. While he was looking around, feeling happy to be back in the familiar welcoming halls, despite his dreams and the weird taste in his mouth. He tried to figure out his reaction to Snape.
"Yes, I realize this. I also know that you will do the right thing, old friend. You are an honorable man."
Harry paused a moment when The Headmasters voice floated from one of the less used halls in the Great Hall. Why was he talking to someone so seriously, so early in the school year? Why did he sound so tired? Harry walked slowly down the side hall, sliding into an empty class where he could still hear Dumbledore. He couldn't quite stifle another yawn and leaned against the wall.
"Albus... I have never doubted your power, or your integrity, but it is times like this, and words like that, that make me doubt your sanity. I will try."
Snape... Harry yawned again and reflected that the potions professor really did have a nice voice. He rather liked the way he was feeling, as well... He hadn't felt this honestly tired in ages. Usually, he was exhausted from lack of sleep and too little food. God, he could fall sleep right here. Must be coming back to Hogwarts.
"I know you will, my friend. And my confidence in you has never been shaken. I must also thank you for joining the students on their way to the school... It would have been disastrous if they had been attacked...and thank you, for making sure Harry-"
"It was nothing, Albus."
He was sliding slowly down the wall, eyes closing and his body, that had a mind of it's own apparently, curling up. Robes pulled around his body, and he reflected that he must be tired. The words that had been so clear a moment ago were simple murmurs now. A comforting drone. Snape really did have a nice voice, he later remembered as his last thought.
//'Oh...how do you want it, and what- oh, hello. Didn't expect to see you back so soon...couldn't resist the call, eh?'
'What...who are you?' He couldn't see anything through the giant chess pieces.
'Ah, brother, if you don't know, how can I tell you? By the way, interesting dream...that Cedric fellow was quite attractive, in an about to be killed kind of way.'
'What?' He made the mistake of looking over the chess pieces again and just escaped being trapped in the queens gaze. Feeling like his chest was on fire, he turned his back to the hard-eyed pieces. He was surprised to find an entire new set of pieces behind him.
The pawns were mostly blank, faces, bodies and all, but not like the other King or Queen. More like a blank sheet of paper. There were two pieces he recognized right off, though, and he wondered angrily why they were situated as pawns. Neither Ron or Hermione were pawns.
'Oh, but they are, brother... Think about it.'
He wanted to glare, but he had no one to glare at. He still didn't know where the voice was coming from. He looked back at what the pawns and wondered why there were only seven. There was a scent of something rotting in the air. Something bumped into his foot. When he looked down, he almost threw up. The top half of Cedric Diggory's head rocked gently against his shoe, eyes staring up at him with the remembered shocked expression. The smell of decay was strangely sweet.//
"Mr. Potter! I am beginning to wonder if you are narcoleptic."
Harry startled awake, but not aware. Voice...Snape's voice. Snape had a nice voice. The voice was keeping away the weird smell and, god, he was so tired... "Professor...?"
"Yes, Mr.. Potter, I am a professor, and you are a student who should be in the Gryffindor commons."
Hands jostling him, trying to pull him out of an almost comfortable haze and he groaned slightly in protest, curling farther into the corner. "Don't want to go...s'tired...never get any sleep...blasted dreams." A thought broke through the sleep-deprived fog in his mind. "Professor, I need to speak with the Headmaster." He forced out, though his mouth was cottony and tasted foul with honey. He tried to get to his feet, but his legs had fallen asleep after so long in the same position and he stumbled into Snape. He looked up into dark eyes and wondered where the nightmare had gone. His head felt...like it was floating ten feet above his body. He knew he needed to see the Headmaster. "Dumbledore..."
"You are, more often than not, entirely too much trouble, Mr.. Potter."
Arms picking him up and he blinked, surprise almost clearing out his head, before the exhaustion slammed back with a vengeance. And a series of yawns that left his jaw cracking. He pressed his face against a shoulder that smelled vaguely of wolfsbane and, oddly enough, lemon. It was a nice smell. No choking honey in sight. "Yes, professor..." He mumbled into the robe.
Silence, broken only by the sound footsteps, almost lulled Harry back to sleep, but the last nightmare was so fresh in his mind that he was able to resist the urge. "Professor?"
"*What* now, Potter? We are going to the Headmasters office, as you oh, so coherently communicated earlier."
"Yeah." He ignored the insults to his verbal skills and concentrated on the voice. "Can't go back to sleep without the dreams. Don't want to see his eyes again." His stomach turned and his eyes watered and he inhaled deeply. The lemon and wolfsbane soothed his trembling stomach before he could vomit or cry on his potions professor. He needed to stop thinking now. This was just too confusing. "Could you talk, professor?" Silence greeted his request and he had to inhale the lemon scent again to keep from crying. "Please?"
He heard a deep sigh, and then a mutter that sounded something like 'definitely more trouble than you're worth' before Snape started outlining the years syllabus for potions.
"You sure you're all right, Harry?"
Harry sighed, trying not to look either of his very concerned friends in the eye. Hermione was easy, as she had pulled a book she thought might help Harry decrease his nightmares out and was scanning it for useful details. "Yes, Ron...just tired. You know," Almost unwillingly, his right hand reached up to brush his scar. "bad dreams."
Ron, fortunately, didn't notice. He was too busy watching the giant squid wave cheerfully to a second year. "Boy, do I know," He said distractedly, trying to work out how many truffles he could sneak back to the Gryffindor commons without Filch or McGonogal taking them. Half his mind on trying to remember exactly how many extra pockets the robe he was wearing had (courtesy of Fred or George), he continued the conversation with only a portion of concentration. "Kept having this dream over the summer... A Blast-ended Skrewt was chasing me with my Divination homework, yelling about how I needed to be more open to the mystic forces..."
Harry nodded, muttered something he hoped sounded agreeable and slowed down, dragging his feet and trying not to gag from the honey he could still taste. He'd eaten three chocolate frogs and a pumpkin pasty, and he still tasted decaying clovers. While he was looking around, feeling happy to be back in the familiar welcoming halls, despite his dreams and the weird taste in his mouth. He tried to figure out his reaction to Snape.
"Yes, I realize this. I also know that you will do the right thing, old friend. You are an honorable man."
Harry paused a moment when The Headmasters voice floated from one of the less used halls in the Great Hall. Why was he talking to someone so seriously, so early in the school year? Why did he sound so tired? Harry walked slowly down the side hall, sliding into an empty class where he could still hear Dumbledore. He couldn't quite stifle another yawn and leaned against the wall.
"Albus... I have never doubted your power, or your integrity, but it is times like this, and words like that, that make me doubt your sanity. I will try."
Snape... Harry yawned again and reflected that the potions professor really did have a nice voice. He rather liked the way he was feeling, as well... He hadn't felt this honestly tired in ages. Usually, he was exhausted from lack of sleep and too little food. God, he could fall sleep right here. Must be coming back to Hogwarts.
"I know you will, my friend. And my confidence in you has never been shaken. I must also thank you for joining the students on their way to the school... It would have been disastrous if they had been attacked...and thank you, for making sure Harry-"
"It was nothing, Albus."
He was sliding slowly down the wall, eyes closing and his body, that had a mind of it's own apparently, curling up. Robes pulled around his body, and he reflected that he must be tired. The words that had been so clear a moment ago were simple murmurs now. A comforting drone. Snape really did have a nice voice, he later remembered as his last thought.
//'Oh...how do you want it, and what- oh, hello. Didn't expect to see you back so soon...couldn't resist the call, eh?'
'What...who are you?' He couldn't see anything through the giant chess pieces.
'Ah, brother, if you don't know, how can I tell you? By the way, interesting dream...that Cedric fellow was quite attractive, in an about to be killed kind of way.'
'What?' He made the mistake of looking over the chess pieces again and just escaped being trapped in the queens gaze. Feeling like his chest was on fire, he turned his back to the hard-eyed pieces. He was surprised to find an entire new set of pieces behind him.
The pawns were mostly blank, faces, bodies and all, but not like the other King or Queen. More like a blank sheet of paper. There were two pieces he recognized right off, though, and he wondered angrily why they were situated as pawns. Neither Ron or Hermione were pawns.
'Oh, but they are, brother... Think about it.'
He wanted to glare, but he had no one to glare at. He still didn't know where the voice was coming from. He looked back at what the pawns and wondered why there were only seven. There was a scent of something rotting in the air. Something bumped into his foot. When he looked down, he almost threw up. The top half of Cedric Diggory's head rocked gently against his shoe, eyes staring up at him with the remembered shocked expression. The smell of decay was strangely sweet.//
"Mr. Potter! I am beginning to wonder if you are narcoleptic."
Harry startled awake, but not aware. Voice...Snape's voice. Snape had a nice voice. The voice was keeping away the weird smell and, god, he was so tired... "Professor...?"
"Yes, Mr.. Potter, I am a professor, and you are a student who should be in the Gryffindor commons."
Hands jostling him, trying to pull him out of an almost comfortable haze and he groaned slightly in protest, curling farther into the corner. "Don't want to go...s'tired...never get any sleep...blasted dreams." A thought broke through the sleep-deprived fog in his mind. "Professor, I need to speak with the Headmaster." He forced out, though his mouth was cottony and tasted foul with honey. He tried to get to his feet, but his legs had fallen asleep after so long in the same position and he stumbled into Snape. He looked up into dark eyes and wondered where the nightmare had gone. His head felt...like it was floating ten feet above his body. He knew he needed to see the Headmaster. "Dumbledore..."
"You are, more often than not, entirely too much trouble, Mr.. Potter."
Arms picking him up and he blinked, surprise almost clearing out his head, before the exhaustion slammed back with a vengeance. And a series of yawns that left his jaw cracking. He pressed his face against a shoulder that smelled vaguely of wolfsbane and, oddly enough, lemon. It was a nice smell. No choking honey in sight. "Yes, professor..." He mumbled into the robe.
Silence, broken only by the sound footsteps, almost lulled Harry back to sleep, but the last nightmare was so fresh in his mind that he was able to resist the urge. "Professor?"
"*What* now, Potter? We are going to the Headmasters office, as you oh, so coherently communicated earlier."
"Yeah." He ignored the insults to his verbal skills and concentrated on the voice. "Can't go back to sleep without the dreams. Don't want to see his eyes again." His stomach turned and his eyes watered and he inhaled deeply. The lemon and wolfsbane soothed his trembling stomach before he could vomit or cry on his potions professor. He needed to stop thinking now. This was just too confusing. "Could you talk, professor?" Silence greeted his request and he had to inhale the lemon scent again to keep from crying. "Please?"
He heard a deep sigh, and then a mutter that sounded something like 'definitely more trouble than you're worth' before Snape started outlining the years syllabus for potions.