A/N: Okay, so I probably shouldn't have split this chapter up, in retrospect. Oh well. I wanted to get something to my waiting masses asap, due to my insane hiatus of almost a year. Which I still want to say that I'm extremely sorry for.

Thanks for all the reviews, I never get this many reviews for anything. :) I'm glad everyone is enjoying this story.

Here we go...read, enjoy, and review. :)

4. Strange dreams

"Wake up, Potter."

Smarting pain shot through Harry's hand and he hissed, his eyes snapping open. The world was dark and blurry, and he could barely see his hand. The pain spread through his back and head, and he closed his eyes once again.

"I said, wake up." A deep voice was growling at him. His smarting hand started to hurt even more, and he let out a cry. The fuzzy outline of Snape was above him.

"Professor?" Harry asked groggily. He sat up and brought his injured hand closer to his face to inspect it. Snape grabbed it midway, eliciting another cry from Harry.

"You're fine, Potter, quit acting like I'm murdering you," Snape said tersely. The Potions Master submerged Harry's hand in a bowl of liquid, instantly cooling the wound.

Harry took a few deep breaths. There was a quiet buzzing in his mind, and not much else. He felt there was some dark situation going on, but he was unwilling to remember what it was.

"You have managed to distinguish yourself in yet another childish way," Snape said. Harry blinked at the blurred shape of the greasy man. "You are the only student who has ever fallen asleep in my classroom."

Harry tried speaking, but only a raspy gurgle escaped him. He cleared his throat and tried again. "I'm sorry, Professor."

Snape sniffed and stood up, setting Harry's hand and bowl on some nearby surface. Something light was pressed into his good hand; his glasses. He slid them on with some difficulty and blinked a few more times to clear the haze from his eyes.

He was in Snape's office, and the Potions Master was standing above him, glaring his way with a curious gaze. Harry gulped as the silence stretched on.

"What do you have to say for yourself, Potter?" Snape growled.

Harry took a few deep breaths, trying to ignore the harsh stare and the grotesque jars lining the office walls. He sat up from his reclined position, closing his eyes and wincing as dizziness stole over him.

"You will refrain from fainting, as you have been asleep for three hours already."

"Sorry," Harry murmured, still trying to remember what was going on. A rush of adrenalin took most of his sleepiness away as he suddenly remembered everything.

"Professor, you have to believe me, you have to help me!" Harry said.

Snape raised an eyebrow. "And what is it, exactly, with which I should help you?"

"I keep going back in time and reliving the same twelve hours over and over again," Harry said in a rush. He looked up hopefully to the quizzical black eyes.

Snape turned and walked to the other end of his office. Harry watched him, heart pounding in his ears. Snape didn't believe him, he was going to have to track down Hermione again, or maybe he would go to Dumbledore this time, but he had to do something—

"I believe that you think you are telling the truth," Snape said suddenly, turning on the spot to stare at him once again. Harry hated Legilimency. "Whether this is actually what has happened remains to be seen."

Harry paused, then, "Please, sir, it keeps happening in your office. So I thought—"

"You think I am to blame. I see."

"No, that's not it," Harry protested. "Well, maybe, but—"

"Silence, Potter!" Snape hissed. Harry closed his mouth. After a few tense moments of staring, Snape said, "Time travel is powerful magic, and there are few ways to accomplish it."

"So what's going on?" Harry burst out before he could stop himself.

"I would suggest that you do not anger the person who can help you, Potter," Snape said lowly.

"Sorry, sir," Harry said quietly.

"And I'm beginning to find your ceaseless, meaningless apologies most tiring."

Harry merely nodded, and Snape finally went on.

"How many times have you gone back in time?" Snape asked, pacing back in his direction.

"Three times, now, sir. I think."

"And does it always happen after the same amount of time?"

"About twelve hours, a little less." Harry's hand began to hurt again, and he pushed it further into the bowl, which contained Essence of Murtlap, on inspection. Snape was almost being nice to him right now, which was almost as concerning as his current situation.

"I see," Snape said. "Now tell me, why are you in this deplorable state after all of this? You bled all over the floor of my classroom."

Harry winced, although it was good to know that Snape wasn't actually being nice to him. "I've had detention with you and Umbridge after a full day of classes two times in a row."

"As much as I would like to make you bleed during my detentions, I do want to keep my position as a teacher, and I wouldn't force physical harm onto you that others would be able to detect."

Harry hesitated, but then decided not to say anything.

"You've lost all this blood thanks to Umbridge and her quill, then?" Snape said.

Harry nodded.

"And you haven't slept in at least twenty-four hours, apart from your nap in my classroom?

Harry confirmed this with another nod.

"Very well," Snape said. "You will remain here for the next five hours to recuperate. I will confer with Professor Dumbledore, and a house elf will be sent to bring you supper. I will return, and we will have our usual Occlumency lesson." Snape's face was twisted in disgust, as if he regretted every word he was saying.

"Why are you going to Dumbledore?" Harry asked.

"I am aware of your stubborn avoidance of the one man who can help you with anything," Snape said, stabbing Harry's pride with the outside observation of how transparent he was. "But my knowledge in this area is lacking. I fear this may be an effort of the Dark Lord."

Harry swallowed. "Okay."

Snape spoke quickly as he left. "Sleep for now, Potter." And he was gone.

Harry stared at the jar containing a baby bird, thinking. He was finally in an okay position this time around, having gotten his point across to both Hermione and Snape. He didn't really want to waste time sleeping, even though he definitely needed it. He was supposed to be in DADA right now. He was thankful that he wasn't, but he wondered what Umbridge would make of the matter. Would she make trouble for him and attempt to track him down? Harry snorted at the thought of getting even more detentions.

Worse still, he wondered what Snape was going to tell Dumbledore. He knew it was kind of silly of him to avoid the old man like he had been doing, but he just had a bad feeling about him. Probably because Dumbledore wouldn't look at him anymore, like the Headmaster had a bad feeling about him.

Harry stood up slowly, picking up the bowl of Murtlap to carry with him. The liquid was thick and red now, but it was still doing its job. He wanted to pull Hermione out of class and have her help him with this, but he knew that was unlikely to happen. He also wanted to go to the library and research everything to do with Time Travel, but if anyone saw him he would be in trouble.

Harry bit his lower lip, thinking. He was too tired and conspicuous right now to do anything. Maybe Snape would actually sort things for him. Maybe.

He turned and went back to the cot Snape had put him in earlier. Maybe sleep was the best option right now, after all. Setting his hand and the bowl in a comfortable position, he closed his eyes.

"Harry! Harry, are you okay?"

Harry felt himself being poked and lightly smacked. He sat up with a start. Ron was there, and so were all of his classmates, and so was Neville's bag…

"Oh, no." Harry settled back onto the ground, ignoring the ruckus around him. Here he was again.