The first night at Hogwarts, Connor woke up screaming. It used to be that it only happened every once in a while, when he'd encountered something that reminded Connor Reilly of his life as The Destroyer. It was happening more and more often now, dreams of the Quor'Toth, of Cordelia and Jasmine, Holtz and Angel, the Battle of L.A, of things that hadn't happened and maybe could be and things that never would. Sometimes, the dreams and the reality mixed together, and, god, though he hated to admit it to even himself, he was scared.
He apologized profusely to his new colleagues, most of whom he'd woken up, and promised them- promised himself- that it would never happen again.
He managed to keep his promise for a month, before the nightmares came back. This time, though, after he'd apologized to the teachers he'd roused, he caught Minerva McGonagall on her way back to bed.
"Could you-" he began, hating that he was revealing what he perceived as weakness. "I mean…"
The woman raised an eyebrow at his hesitation, somehow managing to look stern and imposing, even in a tartan dressing gown. "Mister Reilly, with all due respect, spit it out." She said crisply.
That reminded Connor of why he'd gone to her. She didn't take nonsense, and she wasn't afraid to speak her mind. She reminded him of an older, more refined Faith, and the dark Slayer had managed to make quite the impression on him.
So, he composed himself, and asked his question. "I was reading about silencing spells in the library, and I wondered if maybe you could cast one around my rooms."
She didn't bat an eyelash at his request, something he was grateful for. And she questioned him only after she was done casting the spell.
"You do know this is certainly not a permanent fix?" she told him. "There are other remedies- potions, artifacts, I'm sure they'd help considerably."
He'd read about the Dreamless Sleep potion, and the Pensieve, as well. But, the Potion Master, Snape, made the Dreamless Sleep, and Connor would rather not expose a weak point to someone as untrustworthy as Severus Snape. And he'd had no idea where to get a Pensieve, and he'd rather disliked leaving his dreams and memories out in the open, unprotected.
So, instead of replying, he smiled at the other professor, and said "Thank you, Professor. I promise I won't wake you a third time."
McGonagall frowned as she watched the young man walk away.