Miss Moony would like to dedicate this chapter to HPfreakout for being the first reviewer.
Miss Moony would also like to thank Ack, Hana, riss and Freewriter77 for reviewing.
To riss: I still don't have a clue what you're on about. What's a mescreet? Umm, yes, they do eventually figure out what Harry's little speeches mean; that's either going to be in some far-off chapter or in chapter 6.
And, as for the language in the second Briar-section in this chapter, Miss Moony wrote it just after she finished reading "The Fellowship of the Ring", so it's a little fancy. Sorry if I've used any words you don't know, but, from what I can tell, all my reviewers are intelligent people, so there shouldn't be too much of a problem.
------- I solemnly swear that I'm up to no good -------
Chapter 5
Warm… so warm… Padfoot… Moony… I'm sorry… I love you… Didn't mean to hurt you… I swear…
Harry shifted uncomfortably as the source of warmth left him. 'It was an accident…'
Briar jumped when Tris' voice interrupted his thoughts. He twisted his head round and glared at her. Her response was a raised eyebrow.
'You so fancy him,' she stated.
Briar's eyes widened comically. 'Do not,' he snapped.
By now, Tris had a "yeah, right" expression on her face. 'Then what do you call that?'
She gestured in Harry's direction, and he looked to see that he had unintentionally been running his hands through Harry's hair.
He removed his hands quickly and scooted away from the boy, making him shift uncomfortably.
'Fatherly instincts,' he said briskly, narrowing his eyes and silently daring her to disagree.
She was still wearing that same expression on her face when she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm, 'Whatever you say, thief-boy.'
Briar was just about to retort when his attention was caught by Harry's voice. 'It was an accident…'
Both Briar and Tris snapped to attention. 'What was an accident?' Briar asked.
Harry began muttering and they had to strain their ears to hear him. 'Dead…' he said, '… All dead… I'm sorry…'
Briar's face was pale, but it was Tris who voiced his thoughts. I wonder what happened to him.
Ron… Hermione… Luna… Neville… Ginny… Moony… Padfoot… Hagrid… Mum… Dad… Don't leave me… Please… Gone…
'…Dead… All dead…' he gasped out. '… I'm sorry…'
The next morning, Briar watched as Tris and Daja whispered together at the kitchen table.
He could guess what they were talking about from their expressions; Tris' gleeful, Daja's amused.
They were talking about him. About him and Harry and his supposed "crush".
Briar scowled and scooped up an extra bowl of porridge before retreating to his room to give Harry his breakfast. If Harry was anything like Briar, then he would be hungry. Very hungry.
When he entered the room, Harry was asleep. Having been awake through the whole of the night before, lost in his nightmares, he had finally succumbed to sleep only an hour before, and Briar was loathed to wake him so soon.
As it happened, he didn't need to. After only a few moments of standing by the doorway, Harry started tossing and turning in his sleep and screaming, and within the span of a few seconds, he was awake. Though the screaming didn't stop.
He sat bolt upright, his eyes still screwed closed, and Briar hardly registered the sound of the porridge bowl smashing as he dropped it in his haste to get to the smaller boy's side.
It was not long before the others came running, and when they did, Harry could be seen, and heard, screaming into Briar's shirt as calming words were whispered into his ear, to no effect.
'Ssh,' Briar hissed soothingly. 'It was only a dream… just a dream…'
He looked to where the others were crowded in the doorway and shot them a glare, clearly telling them to scarper if they valued their lives, while he repeated the words over and over in Harry's ear.
The others fled, and, at length, Harry began to calm down, but he didn't release his hold on Briar's shirt until he said, 'You'll have to let go, Harry. I need to fetch another bowl of porridge.'
Briar stood up quietly and lay Harry down amidst the sheets of Briar's "nest" (as there hadn't yet been time to put up another bed in the room, they had been sharing) before leaving the room.
When he returned with his prize, a full bowl of porridge, Briar made his way over to Harry's side and helped the boy sit up, spooning the food into his mouth in small portions.
And, eventually, Harry's eyelids loosened, and began to open, allowing Briar to see the boy's eyes for the first time. They were emerald green and bore all the intensity of one who had suffered long, and, as Briar stared into them, he found himself falling… and seeing…
Screaming… Shouting… The crimson glint of a bloody sword as a decapitated head smashed against the wall… The creaking of a rope as a corpse hung from its wrists from the roof… The hissing of burning flesh in a small, dusty room as a silver hand was shoved into a man's face… Screaming… Screaming… Echoes… Never stopping… Never ceasing…
And they tore at his throat as he felt their pain.
