Disclaimer: not mine.

Chapter 8. In which we skip over 7 all together so my numbers match.

Harry was curled up on "his" bed in the blue room, reading. His hair was still damp from the shower he'd taken after dinner, but he barely noticed as he was absorbed in his book. He knew he should be going to bed, but he didn't want to sleep.

"We had a deal wizardling." Prince appeared as if reading his mind. "You agreed to listen to my orders if I didn't take you to the hospital."

"I am listening!" Harry panicked; he didn't trust hospitals to be safe. "What haven't I listened?"

"Your body needs sleep. We do this every night. You've been here a week and a half now, almost three full weeks. You need to go to sleep."

Harry slid down in the bed. He knew the Prince was angry and upset that he wasn't listening, and Harry was trying to be good. "I'm trying. I don't like to sleep." Harry practically whispered his protest.

The Prince stalked towards him until he stood over the bed. Harry sunk lower. Callused hands gripped his chin and forced him to meet blue eyes. Harry couldn't feel the anger anymore and hoped that was a good sign.

"Why don't you like to sleep little wizardling?" he questioned in a soft purr that Harry found reassuring.

"I- I just don't" he stuttered.

"Not good enough." The Prince reprimanded in that same gentle tone. One hand began to stroke his calico hair and Harry leaned slightly into the touch.

"I just don't like seeing the things in my dreams." Harry blushed and closed his eyes so he didn't have to meet Prince's gaze.

"None of that. There is nothing to be ashamed of. You have nightmares?" when harry managed a nod he went on, "tell me. Your uncle?

"Sometimes, mostly not."

"Tell me." The hand released his chin, but the other stayed tangled in his hair. Harry leaned against the other's side chewing on his lip as he debated internally.

"Mostly it's Voldemort. I can get in his head. I see things. He kills and, and tortures people. Kids and parents and anyone, he doesn't care, he likes it. I…he can give me dreams. They look real but sometimes they're not. I can't tell. I used to tell Dumbledore when I dreamed, because he could go fight, or send help or something, but he told me to stop. The trick dreams were t-traps mostly. It's awful. I can't block it out and it's too much!" Harry sobbed, curling against the older boy. "Sometimes it's just nightmares about other nightmares.

"I-I can't sleep. All I see is blood and death and people screaming and begging and green light and blood and kids crying and them laughing! I can't help anyone, and I can't do anything, and I can't make it all stop!"

The Prince held the younger boy rocking him gently and baking soothing sounds.

XXXxxx

"Hush Little One. It's alright" he tried again when Harry seemed calmer. He felt stiff and knew they'd been sitting in the same position for too long. "Better?"

"Not really." Harry responded in a quiet voice.

Nodding at this he shifted fully onto the bed and lifted the smaller boy to his lap. "You're more coherent at least. Want to talk about it?"

"N-not r-really. I don't like to…" Harry buried his face into his shirt.

"That's fine, that's fine. No need to fret. We don't need to talk about the dreams. Do you know how these dreams work though? Maybe I can make them stop."

"No," Harry was shaking his head already "you can't stop them Dumbledore already tried. Sleeping potions make it worse. He said I needed to learn occlumency, but I am really no good at it."

"My magic is a bit different, remember? Maybe I can do something." He frowned at Harry's account. "Did he really try to teach you occlumency? That doesn't make sense. If that was it surly he could have set shields…"

"What?" Harry looked startled.

"Perhaps I am wrong. Tell me, do you know how these dreams work?"

"A bit. We're connected through this." He tapped his scar "So I can see in his head as if I were him. I don't know…"

"It's like a movie then? You can see and hear what is going on?"

"Sort of. I can feel things too. His feelings, it's like I'm feeling them, not like echoes, more like they're my own."

"'Not like echoes' why would you feel echoes of his feelings, why phrase it like that?" He caught the unusual interjection curiously. Did someone tell him it should be like that or is he…Damn.

Harry fidgeted with his blanket a moment. "I'm not supposed to tell."

"Please tell me Ree. I promise not to get mad." His heart sank as he watched the wizardling fidget a moment longer.

"That's- that's how I feel other people. It – I can–" Harry made a small whimpering noise and pulled the blanket over his head so that he was bundled tightly against The Prince's chest.

"Do you feel other people's emotions?" he asked quietly.

The blanket bundle bobbed a nod.

"Mine?"

Another bob from the blanket.

"What am I feeling now Wizardling?"

The blankets rustled and a muffled voice answered, "You feel… Like Hermione before a test, only a little different…Excited maybe, Hermione likes tests." Harry sounded puzzled, and his heart dropped further. "Only you also feel like Ron when he lets Hermione check his homework and he doesn't get excited about that… You feel more like Ron though, now."

"That's good Harry. I admit I am feeling anxious, and a bit worried, do you think that's maybe what you feel?"

Harry's head popped up and he sat back thinking. Slowly he nodded. "That could be. I never thought that could be it. Anxious and worried." Harry beamed at him as if he'd solved a difficult puzzle for the wizardling.

Perhaps I have. "Do you have trouble figuring out emotions, wizardling?" he knew very little about empaths but he thought they were good at identifying emotions.

"Sometimes. People pretend different than what they feel. Some are easy, others I don't have names for."

"Like what?"

"Anger is easy. I can tell if it's really angry, mad, furious, livid, or just irate. Sad is harder to tell the names for. I can tell that it's sad but I don't know the names for the different kinds of sad, you know?" Harry looked at him shyly and he nodded with an encouraging smile. "I know hurt, feelin' hurt is all the same feeling just stronger or not."

"The same feeling, I don't understand how that's different from anger. Wouldn't that all be the same feeling?"

"No. Not the same. It's like…like, um, colors. You can have red and crimson and scarlet and cherry and burgundy and more, it's the same but definitely different. It feels different. You can be a lot mad without being angry or livid. Pain is different, you hurt or you don't the levels are different but it's the same feeling all the time…"

"Hmm… Go on what's one you don't understand."

"I…that's harder. Um… I can't really tell the differences between Happy. When people are happy they all say they are happy, or having a good day. I don't really know the words…There are almost as many Happys as Angrys… Why are you sad now?"

"Distressed." He clarified the emotion. "I am distressed that you have known so much anger, and have such little understanding of happiness."

Harry flushed, and looked ready to deny that but kept quiet. "It's also a lot because people aren't so good at naming their feelings right. It makes things confusing."

"I understand wizardling. Who else knows about this?"

"No one! … Sorry. Uncle Vernon said not to… that it was bad, and I didn't mean to, I just wanted to be good. I wasn't sure…" Harry bit his lip, but didn't look away or curl up again.

"It's not bad wizardling. Empaths are rare but special in the wizarding world. I need to do more research, but this could be very good." He smiled as Harry beamed at him again. "It also explains why you can't do well at occlumency. As an empath you naturally open your mind more than the average person, an empath's shields are different than most other mental blocks.

"I am going to give you a dream-catcher I have. It is made of unicorn hair and holly, weaved under a full moon. It may be enough to stop your dreams. It will definitely stop your regular nightmares, if it doesn't help your magical ones. Would you like me to stay the night?"

Harry looked distressed that he hadn't been sidetracked completely. "If you don't mind, I'd like that."

"Let me get my things and change. I'll be back in just a moment. Don't you dare start that book again." He kept his emotions light and smiled to show he wasn't threatening, and then slipped out of the room.

Tomorrow he would need to begin research on empaths, laws and dream magic, until then he would keep an eye on the wizardling. He could think about the darker implications of abuse on an empath tomorrow as well.

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A/N Just a shorty so I stay on this. Hope you like it. Review and tell me why/why not. I love your input!