Faith Chapter 25: Little Warnings, a harry potter fanfic

A/N: I know, I'm sorry. Here's the next installment! And I'm sorry if I missed your name in the thank yous…AOHell sucks. But for all of you, that I managed to write down and those that I didn't, THANK YOU VERY MUCH for your encouraging words.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own them, blah blah blah.

Chapter 25: Little Warnings

Harry blew on the wet ink of his essay carefully, flicking away a strand of hair from his eyes as he did so. He eyed his Transfiguration homework critically – it was four inches past the requisite length, and he felt as though he'd answered all of the main points of his argument…but he still wasn't entirely happy with it. Ah well, he mentally shrugged and tested the ink, making sure it was completely dry before rolling it up tightly. If I do well, then great. If I fail, there's always extra credit.

He sighed and tilted his head back, stretching the tight muscles in his neck, hearing the pops of the vertebras as they snapped back into place. He rotated his shoulder, grinning a bit at the deep pops and cracks the movement created – there was no other way he could gross out Ginny more than to snap his joints at her…it always made the redhead blanch and turn faintly green, and then smack him for all she was worth. The first time he'd done it in front of the other Slytherins they'd all gotten a good laugh out of it, well – the boys did at least. Pansy had called the act ghastly, and Millicent had merely glared at him for traumatizing Ginny. The memory still brought a smile to his face.

A faint knock made him look up towards the door – where Draco could be seen easing it open carefully. The blond gave him a small smile, which turned into a smirk when he saw the completed essay. He propped himself up in the doorway, leaning his shoulder into the seal.

"You have turned into such a nerd," he teased, folding his arms over his chest and looking down his nose at the other boy. Harry rolled his eyes at him and carefully put away the essay with short, graceful movements.

"Whatever. Says the compulsive studier himself."

"Well, I'm a Malfoy, and Malfoy's are always supposed to be good in school." He wrinkled up his nose delicately. "Even when we're not." Harry laughed and leaned back in his seat, the laughter slowly draining from his face.

"Is there a meeting being called?" The dark haired boy tilted his head and quirked his eyebrow up faintly. Draco shook his head, unfolded himself from his stance and glanced back over his shoulder. He then proceeded to slip all the way into the room, closing the door behind him quietly.

"No. I just wanted to talk to you." Harry raised the eyebrow fully at the blond, shifting uneasily in his seat, unconsciously hunching his shoulders as he did so. Draco stared at him for a long moment, before seeming to break out of his train of thought with an abrupt shake of his head. "You really need to talk to Severus," Draco's expression was solemn, his eyes guarded and worried. Harry sighed and looked away, letting his eyes focus on his desk instead, absently tracing the fine grain of wood.

"I'm fine."

Draco snorted. "You're fine? You're fine with screaming yourself hoarse every night? You're fine with being plagued by nightmares that leave you with insomnia? You're fine with your jumpiness and the growing fear of the dark?" Draco re-folded his arms across his chest and glared at Harry. "Well, forgive me if I'm wrong, but that sure as hell doesn't sound like being fine." Harry bowed his head, letting his hair fall in front of his face, hiding him from Draco's view, staring down now at his tightly clenched hands.

The blond was right, and even if he hated to admit it, Harry knew it. For the last several weeks, ever since the first Gryffindor vs. Slytherin match, Harry had been having increasingly severe nightmares – nightmares that haunted him even when he was awake. The presence of the little girl had also increased in his dreams, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't seem to hear or remember what she tried to tell him. He'd been able to keep the nightmares a secret from everyone for a while, at least until Sirius and Remus left on a mission for Dumbledore, but after that…he'd been found out.

Severus had been the one to first notice his late night study sessions in the Common Room. Harry had been careful to clean up his area before the first early risers came shuffling out of their dorms…but one day he'd been too shaky and too tired to notice that he'd left a sheaf of papers on one of the tables near the fireplace. The Potions Master had taken him aside the next day to ask him if he needed extra lessons in anything…to which Harry denied quietly and slipped away as fast as he could. He had felt the Potions Master's gaze resting on him throughout the day though, so he had done his best to act happy and healthy, in hopes that it would ease the dark man's worry. It hadn't.

Draco was the next to start seeing the signs of exhaustion and pain in the dark haired boy. Though the blond wouldn't say anything to him, Draco's supporting arm had sometimes been the only thing to get him through a class or three. Harry refused to examine the warm rush he got every time Draco got near him and would immediately focus on something else, which would work for a while.

But the nightmares were only getting worse…and Harry no longer knew if what he saw at night was real or fantasy anymore. The visions his subconscious drew up for him about the tortures that Voldemort's victims went through plagued him…as did the guilt that he felt for not being able to stop the things he saw in his dreams.

"Draco…"

"No, Harry. You need to talk about it. To someone, anyone. Me, Severus, hell, even the Headmaster. But you need to talk about what you see…you need to let it out, and not just have it sit and fester until you go mad." Draco sighed sharply and abruptly raked a hand through his hair, causing it to stand up in a variety of directions. He'd been nagging at Harry for a week now, trying to get him to talk to any of them about what was going through his head. Harry had refused continuously, always changing the subject, or simply ignoring the blond – much to his irritation.

Harry opened his mouth to fire back a reply, then stopped and let the pent up breath out in a rush. The memory of the nightmare from the night before flashed through his mind and he shuddered, closing his eyes swiftly. Not thinking about it…not thinking about it…Satisfied he opened his eyes and looked up to see Draco staring at him oddly.

"I – it's – Professor Snape would laugh at me," Harry attempted, squirming in his seat. Draco frowned at him, his mouth settling into a firm line.

"No he wouldn't. You're a Slytherin now. That's all that's important."

"But don't you see –," Harry broke off, flinging his arm out wildly, frustrated – Draco just wouldn't see. "It's just … nightmares. That's all they are. I feel silly by having people worry and fuss over these, these things. I mean, there's more important, more urgent things that need to be dealt with, like the issue of the mole in Gryffindor, or where the hell old Moldy Voldy is, and what the hell he's up to. My nightmares," Harry spat the word out, his lip curling into a sneer, "are hardly important in the grand scheme of things."

Draco's face was impassive, and his eyes were calm and clear as he regarded the other boy. "But they are important…they're important to the people who – who, who care about you. Who worry if you're losing it, who worry if all the pressure that's been put on your shoulders is going to crush you completely. We want to help you Harry, in any way we can. You just…have to deal with that, unload some of that bloody guilt and let us help you feel better." Draco snorted and put his hands on his hips, staring intently at the other boy. Shocked, Harry looked up at the blond, catching his eye briefly. Draco was slightly flushed, and there was a fire in his eyes, one Harry had only rarely seen before. He let himself stare for a long moment, before feeling a blush creep over his face. Harry quickly looked away, missing the answering blush on Draco's face.

"Alright," Harry finally muttered after a long moment of silence. "I'll talk to –,"

"Severus," Draco broke in with a smirk, the last traces of his blush fading from his cheeks. Harry looked up at him in horror.

"No, I'll talk to the Headmaster."

"No, you'll talk to Severus. You need to start trusting him, Harry. He's the Head of Slytherin, and you're a Slytherin now." Harry looked at the blond as though he'd grown a second head.

"Are you mad? Yes, I'll give you the fact that the man probably feels bad about brewing the Vision Potion not knowing it was going to be taken by a student. And yes, I trust him thank you very much. But talk to him? The man who terrorized my first four years here? Who hated and still hates my father with a passion? Him? That one? The one who'll sneer at me the second I come to him with a 'I had this dream last night and it scared the be-jesus out of me, I need a hug' ? Him? HAH!"

Draco had a hand over the bottom portion of his face, no doubt hiding his grin. "Yes, that exact one." Harry made a sound of disgust and looked away, huffing grandiosely. "And he won't sneer, Harry. You've got yourself worked up over nothing, really."

Harry snorted. "Right," he muttered, tucking his hands into his sleeves and hunching his shoulders defensively. "I'm sure he's really a big teddy bear underneath that cold, sarcastic, snarky exterior. A psychotic teddy bear…like those blasted doll movies that Dudley liked to watch, Chunky or whatever the hell his name was. A perfectly nice, soft, lovable, sociopathic teddy bear, indeed." Draco's laughter could be heard clear out into the Common Room.

*_*_*_*_*

"Sasha, this is getting us no where." Seamus sighed and ran a hand through his hair, grimacing at its feel. The Slytherin ignored him, and continued to pour over the lists in front of her. "Sasha…"

The girl huffed and threw the papers down in front of her with a scowl. "I know, alright Seamus? I bloody well know that this is pointless and is going nowhere. But I have to do something, anything…otherwise I'll go completely mad." She flicked a strand of hair out of her eyes and crossed her arms in front of her, turning her head away and staring out the window. Seamus sighed and reached for her shoulder, only to stop inches away from making contact and letting his hand drop.

"Why don't you go get some sleep? I'll root around in Gryffindor and see if I can find anything. We'll meet up tomorrow at the usual time and I'll fill you in." He smiled at her, knowing she was watching him out of the corner of her eye. Sasha snorted and muttered darkly to herself. "What was that?" Seamus asked teasingly, knowing full well what she probably had said.

"I said that the idea of Gryffindor spying unobtrusively is ridiculous," she sneered at him, turning to face him slightly, her eyes narrowing as she gave him a once over. "Honestly," she snorted and looked away again. Seamus smiled and shook his head, shrugging off her temper easily – Sasha was by far one of the more difficult people to work with one on one, that was for sure. Add to the fact that she was a Slytherin and he was a Gryffindor…Seamus was truly surprised they hadn't set something on fire yet from their arguments.

"Look, just go to sleep alright? You haven't threatened me with a spectacularly bloody death in over an hour, so you must be tired. Go on, it'll be fine, really." Seamus gathered the papers in front of him, shuffling them into one pile and stuffing them into his pack, ignoring the wince and glare coming from the girl.

"Bloody Gryffindors," Sasha sighed and half-heartedly began to stack the papers in front of her – taking much more care with them, and organizing them as she did so. Seamus snorted softly at her, but let the moment pass without comment – Sasha really did have a temper, and he didn't feel like testing its limits at that particular moment.

"Just remember…don't look like you're digging for information, alright? Don't pry, don't skulk around, just…act normal. Pretend to study, read, hell flip through a Quidditch magazine, but don't loom or linger about. It makes people nervous, and the last thing we need is to set off alarms in anyone's mind about people poking their noses about." Sasha stuffed her textbooks into her bag carefully, absentmindedly putting them into alphabetical order as she did so.

"You said 'skulking'," Seamus blinked at her. She looked up and scowled at him.

"Shut up you prat."

"Does anyone actually use that word anymore? Skulking."

"Piss off you bloody wanker."
"Oh, temper temper."

"That's it," Sasha reached for her wand and Seamus began laughing, barely managing to duck the curse the girl sent his way. Sasha took aim for another before she began to snicker as well. At the sight of Seamus sitting on the floor, holding is stomach with tears in his eyes, she let her arm drop and rolled her eyes, sneering at him.

"You bloody Gryffindor."

"You're beginning to sound like a broken record you know," Seamus grinned at her, his laughter beginning again as she scowled at him.

"Well, if you stopped acting like a bloody broken record then I wouldn't sound like one, now would I?" She crossed her arms, and stared down at him darkly. "And I meant what I said, no lingering, no looming…,"

"Yes, yes. I heard you loud and clear, the first time you said it. The hundredth repetition wont do me any good now." Seamus hauled himself up off of the floor and dusted his robes off. Sasha made a face at him and tucked her wand away into her sleeve, smoothing the front of her robe carefully.

"So I'll see you tomorrow then?" She blinked once, and opened and closed her mouth for a moment, looking at him oddly. "…Not that it's important to me or anything. But to the cause of gathering information. For the House." She closed her mouth with a snap and busied herself with her book bag. Seamus looked at her oddly for a second before shrugging it off as a girl thing.

"Yep, sure thing. I'll meet you here tomorrow." He was only more confused at the light blush that swept across her face before she got a hold of herself. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine!" She looked up at him and quickly threw her bag across her shoulder and pushed her chair in with a loud scraping sound. "I'll see you tomorrow, bye."

Seamus stared at her rapidly retreating form, scratching at his head. Sasha's an odd duck at times, he shrugged and grabbed his own bag, not bothering to push his chair in before heading out of the Library. Sometimes I think I'll never understand girls. The cold air of the dark hallway made him shiver and pick up the pace towards Gryffindor tower. Winter was coming with a vengeance, that was for sure.

*_*_*_*_*_*

The room was dark, and there was someone moaning softly. The sound was coming from the walls, and Harry couldn't force himself to look up…couldn't force himself to see what horror Voldemort had created once again. He shook uncontrollably, tears choking him as he balled up his fists and listened to the desolation around him. He couldn't deal with this anymore, he just couldn't. It was too much…the hurt, the pain, the failures…

"Harry," the soft voice jerked his eyes open and his head whipped around to stare at the speaker standing next to him. The little girl stood there, perfect now, her eyes sad. "You should leave now Harry. He's coming."

Harry shook his head vaguely, torn. "But I can't. I have to stay…I have to see. If I don't then I'll miss something, something important, maybe something vital – even if I hate it, even if it haunts me. If I leave, then everyone who suffers tonight wont be – remembered – it'll all be for nothing if I don't try." He forced his hands to unclench and brought them up in front of him. "The potion, the visions…I can handle it, I can." He nodded to himself once, sharply, pushing away the growing panic in his mind. "These people," he risked a look up towards the walls and flinched, "they don't have a chance in hell. It's the least I can do." He drew in a shaky breath and let it out slowly, ignoring the wetness on his face and the screaming voices in his mind.

A soft touch on his elbow made him jump. The little girl looked at him sadly, the expression in her eyes far too old for her age. "Harry, there's nothing you can do here. Leave now, while you still can."

"But –,"

The little girl tensed, her eyes going wide and her head snapping around to stare at the door. A low moan came from her and she paled. "Harry go now. He's coming."

"But I can't –,"

"Go Harry. Go now!" She pushed at him and he grabbed her tiny hands in his own, forcing her to stop.

"But I –," his words were cut off by the lights in the room springing to full strength, illuminating the horrors on the walls. As many times as Harry had seen them, the sight of the victims hung up like racks of meat made his stomach clench and his throat burn.

"Too late. Too late," the little girl whispered, and she faded from his grip, leaving Harry clutching air. He looked around wildly for her, before his attention was abruptly drug back to the room, and the monster that had entered it.

Voldemort was pacing around the room, surveying the prisoners displayed there. No Death Eaters accompanied him into the room, save Ezekiel, who was setting out his instruments with loving care.

Voldemort stopped in front of a once lovely woman, reaching out to tilt her head to the light. She was blond and fair skinned; her eyes were red rimmed from crying, and every now and then a tremor would run through her body, making her manacles clink softly in the silence of the room.

"Such a pretty thing you are. Too bad you're a Mudblood, otherwise I'm sure we could find a willing husband for you. Yes, those eyes…such pretty blue eyes. I think they're your best feature my dear; so blue and clear, like looking into the sky. A shame, pity really. Those eyes shouldn't go to waste on filth like you. Ezekiel!" The torturer turned immediately at the Dark Lord's call, hurrying over when Voldemort beckoned him. "Look, my pet. Her eyes…have you ever seen such eyes?" Ezekiel shook his head slowly, shuffling closer to get a better look.

The woman flinched away from their proximity, closing her eyes to them, and turning her head. Voldemort's face flushed with anger, and he reached down and viciously twisted one of her nipples. She cried out, her back arching in pain, her eyes flying open at the attack.

"Don't look away from me you filth," Voldemort slapped her savagely, a sick smile coming to his face as she cried out again, tears once more beginning to stream down her face. "I have an idea my pet. Do you know what it is?"

"No, my Lord."

"Filth like this should never look away from me…they should revere me, worship me as a God, their God. I'm to be their Lord and Master – I am to be their Light in the darkness." He caressed the woman's face absently as he spoke, his long nails leaving faint red marks on her skin. "I want her eyes as a reminder for all that come before me. I am their Path, their Salvation. Her pretty, pretty eyes should do the trick." The woman locked her eyes on the Dark Lord, her face going pale and she began to shake her head back and forth.

"Yes, my Lord." Ezekiel moved over to his instruments and picked up a long, slender blade from the many laid out. He gently caressed the edge of it, his eyes reverent as he traced the contours of it. He moved back over to the Dark Lord's side, diligently and eagerly waiting for his cue to begin.

"Start with her left eye. But do be careful, Ezekiel," Voldemort let go of the woman's face and stepped back, letting the torturer get in closer to the now struggling woman. "I want the eyes whole. I'd hate to have to wait for another pair of such lovely eyes to come into my hands again. Most of these Mudbloods have common brown eyes – mud eyes, like their blood. No, get them whole, my pet. They're special." The torturer nodded eagerly and raised the blade, carefully setting it to the edge of the woman's eyelid. A spell took care of her struggling, and with fierce concentration, Ezekiel began to cut.

Harry woke screaming, his hands struggling to reach for his face, for his eyes, but something was holding him down. "No! No no no no! Let me go! LET ME GOOOO!" He thrashed on the bed, his back arching as he tried to throw his assailant off. Dimly he could hear people talking in the background, but their words made no sense to him. All he knew was that he needed to check his eyes…his eyes…his eyes…

He collapsed onto the bed, giving up the struggle to free his limbs as the tears came. He tried to stop them, he scolded himself fiercely for crying like a baby, but he couldn't seem to make himself stop. It was too much, too much, too much…

"…enough Harry. Shh, let go. Just let go." The soft words were his undoing and he crumpled fully, the harsh sobs wracking his body. His limbs were released and before he could curl into a ball, arms came around him and held him tight. He clung to the person sitting on his bed, letting all of the pain, the horror and the despair out. He cried himself hoarse, never opening his eyes until the storm dissipated, until all that was left was sniffles and the occasional shudder. Only then did he open his eyes.

Draco shifted on his bed until he could sit up properly, but never let go of him entirely. The blonde's hold was secure even as Harry lay back, wiping futilely at his eyes as he did so. He glanced up at the other boy, waiting to see annoyance, or disgust on his face. He was surprised to see caring there…caring and something else that vanished as soon as he saw it. Harry lingered on Draco's face for a moment before looking at the other occupant of the room.

Severus Snape also sat on his bed, incongruous in his night robe and sleep mussed hair. He looked years younger – nothing like his normal, snarky self. Harry flinched faintly when he saw him there, and burrowed back into Draco's warm embrace. He opened his mouth to say something, when Severus's upraised hand stilled him.

"No, Mr. Potter. You're not fine, I assure you, no matter what you would have everyone else believe. I am not here to judge you, nor am I here to ridicule you. I am your Head of House; I am supposed to be here when you have problems, when you have issues that you cannot work through on your own. Nightmares, Mr. Potter, that leave you clawing at your eyes are not under the category of things students must deal with themselves." There was a hint of the Potion Master's regular glare, but as soon as it was there it vanished and a serious expression replaced it. "Mr. Potter – Harry," the name was stiff on Severus's lips, but he said it anyhow. "Talk. Now. Let it out, for holding it in will do nothing but consume you." The look Severus sent Harry's way stilled the retorts on the boy's lips and Harry let out a long, shaky breath. He met the Potion Master's eye briefly before letting his gaze drop to the coverlet.

"I – I – I don't know where to begin." His words barely carried to the edge of the bed and he sniffed, one hand rising to wipe his face with his sleeve. A handkerchief was stuffed into his fist before he could finish the gesture, though, and he had to smile at Draco's fussiness, present now even in the face of everything. "Thanks."

He mopped up his eyes and blew his nose briefly. He twisted the cloth in his hands when he was done, wringing it as he glanced up briefly at Severus. "I –," he sighed and rubbed at his temple, fixing his gaze on the fireplace. "It always begins with me in Voldemort's torture chamber, and there's always new victims on the wall. And then he comes in and he…"

Harry didn't know how long he talked. His voice often faded in and out as he spoke; his vocal chords were still bruised from screaming. Severus handed him a bottle of – something – half way through his monologue, and the potion worked wonders on his scratchy, painful throat.

The silence in the room when Harry finally stopped talking was immense. "You should have come to me sooner…Harry." Severus shifted on the bed, lacing his long fingers together and steadily looking at the boy. Harry flinched briefly, and nodded.

"I know sir. I'm sorry sir. I just didn't want to –,"

"Harry, stop. I am not angry with you. I am disappointed with myself for not making this offer sooner – or for making sure you could come to me at any time, for any reason, and not just this." Severus leaned forward and caught Harry's eye. "You are a Slytherin, Mr. Potter. You are part of our family now." Harry made himself close his mouth before he made too much of a fool of himself. He nodded quickly and looked away, shifting in Draco's arms. Which, he finally realized, were still around him, comforting him in plain view of the Potions Master. He colored spectacularly.

"Er, thank you Draco. I think I'm good now." The arms slowly disengaged from around him and the blond moved to sit in the chair next to the bed, his eyes never leaving Harry's face. Severus spared both of them a long look and a faint smirk. His expression grew solemn again, and he reached out to touch Harry, gaining his attention. The boy started a bit, but still wouldn't look up at him. Severus suppressed a sigh, reading the guilt and the loathing in the boy's face.

"Now, Mr. Potter – Harry, listen to me carefully. What Voldemort does is not your fault." Harry looked up in shock at Severus, who was watching him carefully.

"I know that," he protested. Severus looked at him evenly.

"No, Harry. I don't think you do – or at least, you don't believe it."

Harry looked back down, unable to argue. Logically he knew he wasn't at fault…but his heart and his gut said that he was…that he should have been able to do something, to have been able to kill the bastard at any one of the previous battles with him before. Because if he had been able to…

"Stop blaming yourself Harry. It wont bring those people back." Harry sniffed and it sounded loud in the quiet of the room.

"I know that. Well, my mind knows that, but my heart doesn't. I know, I know that I can't do anything for these people, but – but – but there's this part of me that can't just let them face all of it alone, you know?" He shrugged painfully, not looking them in the eye. "I know I need to find someway to stop the dreams, but – I just, I just don't know how." He shuddered, his breath coming out in a long stuttering sigh.

"Harry, only time can heal you from the things you've seen. But for now, you need to tell someone of your dreams, no matter how strange or odd they may seem. Don't let the horrors consume you, Mr. Potter – for they will if you do not let them out." Harry nodded silently and kept his eyes down. He could hear the Potions Master sigh softly and felt him ease off of his bed after a moment.

"Mr. Malfoy, you and Harry are excused from classes tomorrow. I would advise you to get some sleep, and rest for the day, is that clear?" Harry and Draco nodded eagerly. Severus didn't smile, but the dark shine in his eyes gave away his faint amusement. "Mr. Potter, there is some Dreamless Sleep potion on your nightstand –," he held up his hand before Harry could protest. "I have taken the liberty of experimenting with the recipe and it should now work correctly for you. Mr. Malfoy, I would prefer if you stayed with Mr. Potter – but alert me immediately should he become distressed, is that understood?" Draco nodded quickly. Severus nodded once and with a flick of his wand – which Harry couldn't figure out where he'd manage to stash it – he conjured up another bed for the room. "Good night boys," and with that, Severus quit the room.

Harry looked over at Draco and felt a blush start to creep up his face. He let himself flop back onto the bed and scrunched down into the covers, letting them creep up over his face to hide it from view.

"You're not getting out of taking that potion so easily you know." Draco's voice was amused.

Damn.

"It's really not that bad, Harry. Just think, nice, peaceful sleep, all for you. Now get up and drink the bloody potion so we can get to sleep." Draco's voice was tired, and Harry risked a peek over the edge of the covers at the other boy. Draco looked slightly ragged, and there were faint smudges of blue under his eyes – Harry wondered vaguely how long they were with him before he had woken up.

He thrust a hand out of his warm cocoon before he could chicken out and held out his impatient fist for the vial. "Well, give it to me then." Harry snapped his mouth closed close on the heels of his words and ducked his head, avoiding the blonde's eye. He couldn't believe that had just slipped out of his mouth. He heard Draco chuckle lightly before handing over the small vial that contained the potion. Harry quickly downed it and shivered at the taste – there has to be a rule somewhere that says all potions done by one Professor Snape must taste like absolute shite, he made a face and smacked his mouth loudly, crinkling up his nose.

"Shut up Harry. It's not that bad."

Harry glared at the blond from over the edge of the covers. "Says the prat who doesn't have to drink the bloody stuff."

"What have we said about your language?"
"Piss off."

"Really, Mr. Potter, such foul language does not become –," Draco laughed as Harry blearily flipped him off and slipped into unconsciousness. Draco eased himself onto the other bed and stared for a while at the pale face. He drew his knees up to his chest and shivered, the memory of what Harry had described to him flitting through his mind. He'd known that the other boy had been having nightmares and visions…but he'd never thought they were so bad, or so violent.

Draco had been woken up out of a sound sleep by something he couldn't name exactly. It was just a feeling, a deep, bone chilling worry that had him up and out of bed before he'd really had the chance to become entirely awake. That was how he'd found himself in Harry's room just as the dark haired boy began to scream. The sound of pure despair had rooted Draco for one long moment – but before Harry could bring his hands up to claw at his eyes, Draco was there to hold him down, hold him safe.

Draco reached out hesitantly and eased the long strands of inky black hair from the other boy's eyes. Lines of pain and exhaustion were fading, and Draco noted with happiness that no sign of any nightmares were on him. The blond let his fingers linger on the warm skin, tracing over its smoothness, letting himself get lost in his thoughts.

He came back to himself with a blink, and hastily snatched his hand away from where it had been resting on Harry's cheek. The blond colored hotly, and scooted back to his own bed, dousing the lights with a flick of his wand. You prat, you prat, you prat, he thumped his head down onto his pillow, burrowing under the covers. Get to sleep. He turned on his side, facing Harry, and let his eyes trace over the other boy's dark form. It took him a long while to get to sleep.

End Chapter 25

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Gemory: I'm workin' on it =) I'm glad you're enjoying the fic! Thanks for the lovely review!

Mr. Happy Java Man: LOL, I'm workin' on it, I'm workin' on it =) I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter!!

Marchwarden: They're from Celtic myth…for more info, you can check out www.pantheon.org and type in Hell Hounds in the search category. Lots of info there =) I'm glad you're enjoying the fic and thanks for the lovely review!
Beren: Well, the only way to explain that is to say I mucked up and got carried away (hangs head sheepishly). Now, I have played an entire game of fastpitch softball with a concussion – so to me being able to get out on a broom / sport of your choice after a major set back, even though you aren't one hundred percent, is a given to all serious athletes; we're a hardheaded bunch that often take things too far and end up with torn ligaments and busted knees. /shrug. So, that's all I can really say to explain that, I will be looking out for that in the future, so thanks for pointing that out. I'm glad you're enjoying the fic, and thank you for the wonderful review!

Zeynel: Good thinking =) We'll see ; p I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter! Thank you for the awesome review!

Athenakitty: The world will learn about Lavender, but not for a while. I'm glad you're still enjoying the fic!!!

Xenelle: no and yes. I'm glad you're enjoying the fic! Thanks for reviewing =)