Thanks to thirteen ravens, liz, Anora, xikum, Lady Javert, and Kara Dia for
the reviews! Thanks Kara Dia for pointing out the misspellings. I went back
and fixed them.
Chapter 3- Help from a. . . friend?
Harry lay still a moment fearing that he had fallen asleep again and that this was the beginning of another nightmare. He pinched himself and it hurt. That didn't mean much as these were no ordinary dreams, but he realized there was no way he could wake himself up either way.
Whatever this was, hiding from it wasn't going to help. He sighed and slowly raised himself to peer onto the bed. The box was still sitting where it had been when he fell. It did not appear sinister. It was small, square, and black, tied with a dark blue ribbon and waiting innocently for Harry's curiosity to win out over his fear.
After a few moments Harry climbed onto the bed and sat cross-legged facing the box. He took a deep breath and picked it up. It was moderately heavy. He pulled one end of the blue ribbon, carefully untying it and laying it aside. He lifted the lid and looked inside to find a stoppered bottle and an envelope addressed to him. Curiouser and curiouser.
He brought out the letter first and opened it with a feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. He couldn't help wondering which of his friends would be the next to die in this version of his own personal Hell. What he found surprised him out of his fear and he read the letter a second time to be sure his eyes were not deceiving him.
Mr. Potter,
Your unaided attempts to keep the Dark Lord from invading your mind have obviously failed. Enclosed you will find a Dreamless Sleep Potion. Swallow the full dose before sleeping and the bottle will refill itself when next you require it. Continue practicing, but DO NOT go to sleep without taking the potion.
Professor Snape
SNAPE was sending him mail? SNAPE was concerned about how he slept at night? SNAPE was voluntarily trying to HELP him? The world must be coming to an end. How had he KNOWN? He must be somewhere nearby. Harry went to the window and looked out into the moonlit yard. He searched for some sign of Snape, but found none.
Wait! Dumbledore must have put him up to this. Of course, Dumbledore always knew everything, somehow. He must have told Snape to make the potion and send it to Harry. But how had the box just arrived out of thin air? Hermione would know. It was probably in *Hogwart's: A History*.
Thinking of Hermione brought back his earlier dream. He suddenly realized that he was exhausted. He hadn't gotten any real sleep in three days. There would be plenty of time to ponder this new development in the morning. All he wanted now was to crawl into bed knowing that the nightmares could no longer touch him.
He brought out the bottle of potion, unstoppered it, and drained the contents, which tasted oddly like cinnamon. He put the bottle and letter back in the box and hid it under a loose floorboard with the chocolate frogs Ron had sent him. Then he grabbed a thick blanket, climbed into bed and fell asleep immediately.
*****************************************************************
It had been about two weeks since Harry had received the potion from Snape. As promised the bottle refilled itself whenever Harry needed to sleep, though not necessarily when he *wanted* to sleep. If he was trying to sleep only to escape his thoughts the bottle remained frustratingly empty.
There had been no more dreams since the potion had arrived. After the first few nights Harry no longer dreaded bedtime. He continued his attempts to clear his mind, not only at night before the potion took effect, but also during the day. Sometimes it was easy. For instance, lying in the bushes in the backyard he would breathe deeply and relax while concentrating on the relatively safe memory of finally getting to read his letter from Hogwart's after his Uncle Vernon had confiscated or destroyed what must have been thousands of them.
It was less easy when he had been provoked by one of the Dursleys, which happened all too often. Once, Dudley and his friends had chased him up a tree and stood at the bottom taunting him with foul remarks about his parents. It had taken everything he had to refrain from breaking the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery by hexing the lot of them.
He had leaned against the tree and tried to relax as he did in the bushes by taking deep breaths and attempting to ignore the boys. He thought about Hagrid using his pink umbrella to give Dudley a pig's tail. That had been one of the best birthday presents he'd ever gotten. After a few minutes Dudley and his gang had gotten bored with his failure to respond as usual and wandered off.
He continued to use this technique whenever Aunt Petunia compared him unfavorably to her "Duddikins" or when Uncle Vernon was being particularly nasty. The more he practiced the easier it was. It also had the added benefit of frustrating all three Dursleys to no end, seeing as half their enjoyment in being so vile to him was in watching him turn red and attack them and then punishing him for it.
On July 26th, six days before his sixteenth birthday, Harry received what had become an annual invitation from the Weasleys to spend the rest of the summer with them at the Burrow. He sent a reply back with Pigwidgen telling them he would be more than thrilled to escape Privet Drive and to see them all again. The Weasleys were the closest thing to a family that he had except for Hermione who would also be spending August with the Weasleys.
The next day Harry was lying on his bed reading his Occlumency textbook when there was a knock on his bedroom door. This was very unusual. The Dursleys never called him for meals; he was just expected to know when they were and to show up promptly or starve. The rest of the time they preferred not to see or hear him unless it was to torture him, but lately that was a moot point.
Harry walked to the door and opened it to find his Uncle Vernon looking at him nervously. "Yes? What is it?" asked Harry when Uncle Vernon remained silent.
"You've a visitor, boy. He's downstairs," Uncle Vernon was being oddly polite.
"A visitor?" Harry asked. He decided it must be someone from the Order, Tonks or Mad Eye Moody perhaps, who had threatened the Dursleys at the train station in June. They were the only visitors he could imagine who would cause such a change in his Uncle.
"Yes," now Uncle Vernon was whispering, "It's your godfather."
Harry's eyes went wide with shock. Sirius? Here? Alive? How? When? Wow! None of that mattered. All that mattered was that Sirius was alive. He raced down the stairs into the living room forgetting everything except that Sirius was somehow here at Privet Drive.
Harry's face fell and his stomach turned when he entered the room and saw that it was not Sirius who had come to see him after all, but Snape. Snape was standing with his back to Harry staring at the fireplace and looking rather uncomfortable. Harry was overcome with disappointment, which he tried to wipe from his face before Snape turned to face him.
There was a loud crash from upstairs and the sound of a door slamming. Harry guessed the Dursleys were hiding in fear because they had mistaken Severus Snape for Harry's murderous escaped convict godfather. He had never even thought of telling them that Sirius was dead. He could barely talk about that with his friends let alone the Dursleys.
At the sound of the crash Snape turned around and found Harry staring at him. "Mr. Potter."
"Pr-Professor Snape? What--?"
"Am I doing here? I have come to take you back to school."
"School? But why? I-"
"Dumbledore has decided that you are to resume learning Occlumency as soon as possible so that you can concentrate properly with no distractions from other classes, Quidditch, or from Granger and Weasley." This was said in a tone that indicated this was a perfectly normal occurrence
Harry gaped for a moment and then nodded. "I'll go pack my things," he said numbly. He was going back to Hogwart's with Snape to spend the rest of the summer learning Occlumency. With Snape. No trip to the Burrow. No fun with Ron and Hermione. Just Snape.
He had a fleeting thought that maybe he had fallen asleep without taking his potion and was currently having a nightmare courtesy of Lord Voldemort. He sighed as he began packing his trunks. Unfortunately, he knew he was not that lucky.
Chapter 3- Help from a. . . friend?
Harry lay still a moment fearing that he had fallen asleep again and that this was the beginning of another nightmare. He pinched himself and it hurt. That didn't mean much as these were no ordinary dreams, but he realized there was no way he could wake himself up either way.
Whatever this was, hiding from it wasn't going to help. He sighed and slowly raised himself to peer onto the bed. The box was still sitting where it had been when he fell. It did not appear sinister. It was small, square, and black, tied with a dark blue ribbon and waiting innocently for Harry's curiosity to win out over his fear.
After a few moments Harry climbed onto the bed and sat cross-legged facing the box. He took a deep breath and picked it up. It was moderately heavy. He pulled one end of the blue ribbon, carefully untying it and laying it aside. He lifted the lid and looked inside to find a stoppered bottle and an envelope addressed to him. Curiouser and curiouser.
He brought out the letter first and opened it with a feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. He couldn't help wondering which of his friends would be the next to die in this version of his own personal Hell. What he found surprised him out of his fear and he read the letter a second time to be sure his eyes were not deceiving him.
Mr. Potter,
Your unaided attempts to keep the Dark Lord from invading your mind have obviously failed. Enclosed you will find a Dreamless Sleep Potion. Swallow the full dose before sleeping and the bottle will refill itself when next you require it. Continue practicing, but DO NOT go to sleep without taking the potion.
Professor Snape
SNAPE was sending him mail? SNAPE was concerned about how he slept at night? SNAPE was voluntarily trying to HELP him? The world must be coming to an end. How had he KNOWN? He must be somewhere nearby. Harry went to the window and looked out into the moonlit yard. He searched for some sign of Snape, but found none.
Wait! Dumbledore must have put him up to this. Of course, Dumbledore always knew everything, somehow. He must have told Snape to make the potion and send it to Harry. But how had the box just arrived out of thin air? Hermione would know. It was probably in *Hogwart's: A History*.
Thinking of Hermione brought back his earlier dream. He suddenly realized that he was exhausted. He hadn't gotten any real sleep in three days. There would be plenty of time to ponder this new development in the morning. All he wanted now was to crawl into bed knowing that the nightmares could no longer touch him.
He brought out the bottle of potion, unstoppered it, and drained the contents, which tasted oddly like cinnamon. He put the bottle and letter back in the box and hid it under a loose floorboard with the chocolate frogs Ron had sent him. Then he grabbed a thick blanket, climbed into bed and fell asleep immediately.
*****************************************************************
It had been about two weeks since Harry had received the potion from Snape. As promised the bottle refilled itself whenever Harry needed to sleep, though not necessarily when he *wanted* to sleep. If he was trying to sleep only to escape his thoughts the bottle remained frustratingly empty.
There had been no more dreams since the potion had arrived. After the first few nights Harry no longer dreaded bedtime. He continued his attempts to clear his mind, not only at night before the potion took effect, but also during the day. Sometimes it was easy. For instance, lying in the bushes in the backyard he would breathe deeply and relax while concentrating on the relatively safe memory of finally getting to read his letter from Hogwart's after his Uncle Vernon had confiscated or destroyed what must have been thousands of them.
It was less easy when he had been provoked by one of the Dursleys, which happened all too often. Once, Dudley and his friends had chased him up a tree and stood at the bottom taunting him with foul remarks about his parents. It had taken everything he had to refrain from breaking the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery by hexing the lot of them.
He had leaned against the tree and tried to relax as he did in the bushes by taking deep breaths and attempting to ignore the boys. He thought about Hagrid using his pink umbrella to give Dudley a pig's tail. That had been one of the best birthday presents he'd ever gotten. After a few minutes Dudley and his gang had gotten bored with his failure to respond as usual and wandered off.
He continued to use this technique whenever Aunt Petunia compared him unfavorably to her "Duddikins" or when Uncle Vernon was being particularly nasty. The more he practiced the easier it was. It also had the added benefit of frustrating all three Dursleys to no end, seeing as half their enjoyment in being so vile to him was in watching him turn red and attack them and then punishing him for it.
On July 26th, six days before his sixteenth birthday, Harry received what had become an annual invitation from the Weasleys to spend the rest of the summer with them at the Burrow. He sent a reply back with Pigwidgen telling them he would be more than thrilled to escape Privet Drive and to see them all again. The Weasleys were the closest thing to a family that he had except for Hermione who would also be spending August with the Weasleys.
The next day Harry was lying on his bed reading his Occlumency textbook when there was a knock on his bedroom door. This was very unusual. The Dursleys never called him for meals; he was just expected to know when they were and to show up promptly or starve. The rest of the time they preferred not to see or hear him unless it was to torture him, but lately that was a moot point.
Harry walked to the door and opened it to find his Uncle Vernon looking at him nervously. "Yes? What is it?" asked Harry when Uncle Vernon remained silent.
"You've a visitor, boy. He's downstairs," Uncle Vernon was being oddly polite.
"A visitor?" Harry asked. He decided it must be someone from the Order, Tonks or Mad Eye Moody perhaps, who had threatened the Dursleys at the train station in June. They were the only visitors he could imagine who would cause such a change in his Uncle.
"Yes," now Uncle Vernon was whispering, "It's your godfather."
Harry's eyes went wide with shock. Sirius? Here? Alive? How? When? Wow! None of that mattered. All that mattered was that Sirius was alive. He raced down the stairs into the living room forgetting everything except that Sirius was somehow here at Privet Drive.
Harry's face fell and his stomach turned when he entered the room and saw that it was not Sirius who had come to see him after all, but Snape. Snape was standing with his back to Harry staring at the fireplace and looking rather uncomfortable. Harry was overcome with disappointment, which he tried to wipe from his face before Snape turned to face him.
There was a loud crash from upstairs and the sound of a door slamming. Harry guessed the Dursleys were hiding in fear because they had mistaken Severus Snape for Harry's murderous escaped convict godfather. He had never even thought of telling them that Sirius was dead. He could barely talk about that with his friends let alone the Dursleys.
At the sound of the crash Snape turned around and found Harry staring at him. "Mr. Potter."
"Pr-Professor Snape? What--?"
"Am I doing here? I have come to take you back to school."
"School? But why? I-"
"Dumbledore has decided that you are to resume learning Occlumency as soon as possible so that you can concentrate properly with no distractions from other classes, Quidditch, or from Granger and Weasley." This was said in a tone that indicated this was a perfectly normal occurrence
Harry gaped for a moment and then nodded. "I'll go pack my things," he said numbly. He was going back to Hogwart's with Snape to spend the rest of the summer learning Occlumency. With Snape. No trip to the Burrow. No fun with Ron and Hermione. Just Snape.
He had a fleeting thought that maybe he had fallen asleep without taking his potion and was currently having a nightmare courtesy of Lord Voldemort. He sighed as he began packing his trunks. Unfortunately, he knew he was not that lucky.
