Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling owns Harry Potter along with Scholastic and whoever else. I only own my characters so DON'T SUE!!!
Six Feet and Fallingby Saerry Snape
Chapter 11 :: October 15, 1995 :: Hogwarts – Just After Midnight/Morning Around 7
"Die, Muggles!"
"What scum… They deserve to die…"
"Die!"
"Nothing but trash, I say… Kill them all…"
"Die, die!"
"KILL THEM ALL!!"
"AVADA KEDAVRA!"
Harry sat up abruptly in bed, his now shoulder-length hair hanging in wet ringlets as sweat poured in rivers off his skin. His stomach twisted suddenly and he leapt out of his bed, staggering down the stairs three at a time, nearly tripping, and running across the common room. He fell to his knees in the bathroom and threw up what was left from dinner into the toilet.
By the time he was done, he was leaning over the porcelain bowl, breathing harshly. He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and took a deep, shaky breath, closing his eyes.
After a few moments of sitting on the floor, he rose to his feet. Hands shaking, he flushed the toilet then staggered out into the common room, where he collapsed onto the floor in front of the still crackling fire. Curling up into a ball on the hearthrug, he took a few more shaky breaths before he closed his eyes, trying to fall asleep again.
The images from his dream flashed in front of his eyes and he cried out involuntarily. His green eyes glittered with unshed tears as he saw that poor little girl again, her head lolling limply from side to side as her tiny puppy nudged her, trying valiantly to wake his master.
How could they? How…could…they?
Harry watched the crackling fire, his mind filled with the things he had seen in his dreams. Ever since his birthday when the odd changes in his body (and magical powers, though he'd told no one about this), he'd gotten better at remembering the dreams brought on by Voldemort's presence. And then there were others like that that came to him, dreams of the Death Eater attacks. He knew he'd see something or hear something about it tomorrow. But until then…maybe, just maybe, those images would leave him alone long enough to let him sleep a little.
And so they did.
* * *
Sheyne crept downstairs early in the morning, rubbing her right shoulder and wincing. The night before she and her father had been up until eleven getting her ready for her hardest Shift yet – into a magical creature. Apparently her mother had never been able to master that trick (very few Shifter's ever had) but she knew the way it was done and had performed it enough that her father knew how to show her.
Suddenly she stopped, frowning. Someone was lying on the hearthrug…
Long, lithe body curled up into a ball; broad shoulders that appeared to be lightly muscled by the way the shirt was stretching across them; long, dark hair that curled slightly with red highlights…
It was the red highlights that did it. Only one person in the entire school had red highlights in their hair and that was Harry.
Sheyne took a few cautious steps forward, not wanting to disturb the sleep of the boy who had very quickly become her friend. When he didn't move, she took a few more, leaning over to look at his lean face, which was not the peaceful visage it was when he was awake. In sleep, he looked…darker, more like the warrior wizard he was supposed to be. It was almost like, without those far too emerald eyes open, there was nobody home.
She then looked at her watch and saw the time. If she didn't wake Harry up, he'd be late.
"Harry," she hissed, reaching down to shake his shoulder. "Harry, wake up."
A muscle twitched in Harry's cheek but beyond that she had no sign of a response.
"Harry!" snapped Sheyne. "Wake up! For the sake all things holy, you've gotta get up!"
Harry rolled onto his back at that and opened one eye to a slit to peer up at her blearily.
"S'who?"
"It's Shey. You've gotta get up, mate. Your asleep on the hearthrug."
"I…know," yawned Harry, rising to his feet as though he hadn't slept on the floor and stretching lithely, like a cat. "What's up?"
"Why were you sleeping on the hearthrug?" asked Sheyne.
Harry rubbed his eyes then looked down at her, a haunted look in his eyes.
"Dreams. Nothing big." He then looked down at the shirt and sweats he was dressed in then back up at her, grinning wryly. "Guess I'd better go change, shouldn't I?"
Sheyne nodded and replied, "Probably a good idea."
"Yeah. Wait here, 'kay?" Harry didn't wait for a response from Sheyne, only sprinted up the stairs to the fifth year boys dormitory, taking the stairs two at a time. He was back a few moments later, school robes in order and hair tied back in a loose pigtail.
"Alright, let's go."
As they stepped out past the Fat Lady, saying their hello's to her, Harry asked softly, "Hey, how have the lessons been going?"
"Good," replied Sheyne. "My shoulder hurts a bit from last night but its gonna be worth it if all this works. Papa is trying to get me to turn into a Gryffa, which is a really tiny type of Griffin. They're really cute."
"I can imagine," said Harry. "It'll be cool when you can turn into a real Griffin. Then you can fly."
"Have to learn how to fly first," said Sheyne. "I may get their instincts when I shift, but I'm not what I turn into."
"True. Oh, at last… I'm starved…"
As soon as they sat down at the Gryffindor table, Harry began to pile his plate high with food. Sheyne watched him in amusement for a moment, then dug in herself.
* * *
"Hey, have you guys seen the Prophet today?" asked Ron as he opened the paper, not noticing when Harry paled to a shade of pasty white. "There's been another attack."
"Another one?" said Sheyne, turning the paper so she could see it. There was a black-and-white picture of the Dark Mark hovering over the remains of a town. It also appeared to be hovering over bodies.
Harry's fork fell to the floor and the other three looked at him. He looked decidedly green as he said, "I've got to go," and hurriedly got up, practically sprinting out of the Hall. Sheyne looked at Ron and Hermione in confusion then rose to go after him.
"Sheyne, don't…" began Hermione but Ron stopped her.
"Don't bother, Herm. She won't listen anyway."
"Ron Weasley, you stop insulting Sheyne or I'll turn you into a toad."
"Yes, ma'am."
* * *
Sheyne ran outside after Harry and found him by the lake, his back against an ancient oak tree. He didn't seem to notice her until she climbed over a large, uplifted root and slid down beside him. When he did, he looked at her with dull green eyes. They looked as though the odd light they generally possessed had been sucked out of them.
"Harry," she said softly, "you okay?"
"No," came the drab reply. The green eyes lifted to look into hers and Harry whispered, "I saw it. I saw it all."
Sheyne frowned in confusion.
"Saw what?"
"Them. All of them. All of them dying. All of them."
Sheyne opened her mouth then realized what he was talking about.
"The people in the paper. The village that was attacked. Oh God… Harry…"
"It's okay, Shey. I'm…used to it."
"Used to seeing people die? Harry, man, no one is used to seeing people die."
Harry looked at her and said, "I've been seeing stuff like this ever since the end of last year. Every Death Eater attack, every time Voldemort called a meeting…I've seen it. I don't know why."
"Maybe you've got the Sight."
"Maybe," said Harry. "But if I do, I'd gladly give it to Trelawney. Let her see people die almost every night. Let anyone who thinks my life is easy see that. I'd like to see their reaction to some of the things I've seen." Harry spat bitterly on the ground and laughed harshly. "Yes, indeed, I would."
"Harry," said Sheyne, laying a hand on her new friend's arm. "Isn't there some way to block these things? Dreamless Sleep Potion or a charm…"
"Dreamless Sleep Potion becomes addictive if used enough and I don't think any charm would be powerful enough to keep these things from coming." Harry sighed heavily then looked at Sheyne, smiling slightly.
"But you know what?" he said.
"What?" asked Sheyne.
"Those dreams seem less close to mind when your around. Maybe its because you're a Shifter or something…" Harry shrugged. "But – somehow – everything seems…I don't know…normal when your around me. Just you."
"Well," he added, "as normal as life here can get."
Sheyne laughed and said, "Well, then if it helps, I'm here to give any time I can."
"Thanks," said Harry.
"No thanks needed, my friend," said Sheyne, leaning up against his shoulder. "No thanks needed at all."