Notes: Sorry about the long update time. I ran out of pre-written chapters and then Real Life hit me over the head with a hot frying pan. I hope to update again before the end of the week.
Justsmile :)
Chapter seven
The rest of the week passed fairly quickly and relatively quietly. Harry used only one of the vials of dreamless sleep Blaise had given him, and spent the rest of his nights awake, or dozing until pulled violently awake from a nightmare. As a result, his essay on respect was finished by Thursday, but it was becoming clear to all that he was not getting the sleep he should.
When Friday night arrived and the common room was once more filled with students partaking in contraband drinks and food, Blaise made his way over to Harry with a glass of fire whiskey in each hand.
"Here," he stated, as he practically shoved one of the glasses in Harry's face until he was forced to take the drink or risk wearing it.
"What's this for?" He asked, but took a sip anyway, coughing a little as the liquid burned a trail down his throat.
"Two reasons," Blaise explained. "It's my last night here with you obnoxious Lions," he smiled when Harry frowned at him, "and once again you look like shit," he finished.
"You know, I'm going to develop a complex, you keep saying that to me," Harry pointed out and Blaise laughed before sipping from his own glass.
"Not likely, you know you're still attractive."
Harry blushed, but chose to ignore the comment. "I've only used the one vial," he confessed and Blaise frowned at him.
"You know I gave those to you 'cause you needed a good nights rest, but I assumed you'd use them, see how well they worked, and head to Pomfrey to get some more."
"I don't want to go to Madame Pomfrey, she'll ask why I'm not sleeping, and it will lead to more and more questions I'm not ready to answer. I'll be fine, the nights I've fallen asleep, the dreams haven't been too bad. I haven't woken you up by racing to the bathroom to vomit again, have I?" Harry asked, conveniently forgetting the new cuts that adorned his arms and thighs.
"Whatever you say, Harry." Blaise was clearly unconvinced, but left it alone.
Both boys quietly sat and sipped their drinks until the glasses were empty, and when Ron came over to challenge Blaise to a game of chess, he took the offer. It was late when they finally called it a night, drained their glasses once more and headed up the stairs, calling out goodnight to the few of their friends that remained in the common room.
Harry had drunk enough whiskey that he was pleasantly buzzed, so he simply laid down on his bed and waved his wand lazily to draw the curtains around the bed. He fell asleep with his wand in his hand and the sound of the other boys readying themselves for bed.
When he came awake a few hours later, it was with a shout and a burst of flame from the end of his wand. Stunned, and more than a little out of it from the mix of alcohol and nightmare, he was able to cast a quick aguamenti at the fire licking at his curtains before he flopped down on his pillows with a huff of air.
"Harry?" He heard and he groaned but forced himself to sit back up. Blaise stood by his bed with a startled expression, examining the charred remains of his bed curtains. He didn't say anything about them though, merely sat down on the end of the bed and waited for Harry's breathing to even out.
"I'm fine, Blaise, just a nightmare." Harry conveniently ignored his still smouldering curtains and rubbed his face with his hands. Blaise conjured a glass of water and handed it to Harry, who took it gratefully and drank it all down.
"Thanks," he said, then laid back down on his bed, playing his wand through his fingers in agitation.
"I really think you should speak to someone about these nightmares, Harry, but I won't push now. Just..." Blaise paused to run his hand over his hair, "Just promise me if it gets any worse you will. I don't think the elves will want to keep replacing bed curtains," he finished lightly hoping to get a response.
Harry huffed out a small bark of laughter before throwing his arm over his face.
"Okay, Blaise, if they get any worse than they are now, I'll tell someone," he prevaricated, not pointing out that he didn't think they could get any worse than they currently were.
Blaise nodded and headed back to his bed without another word. Harry lay quietly until he was sure Blaise was asleep again, then got up and headed to the bathroom. He was still conveniently wearing his robes, having fallen asleep in them, so there was no need to search out his blade.
Several new cuts on his upper right arm later, and he was back in bed but this time sitting up amongst his pillows with a book in his lap and his wand beside him on the bed. When the sun began to rise and peak in at the windows, Harry got up and cast a cleansing charm on his clothes and robe before heading to the great hall for a strong cup of tea.
He forced himself to eat a slice of dry toast to help combat the mild nausea he felt, then headed back to the common room to sit in front of the fire and read. Ron found Harry and Hermione sitting quietly with their books awhile later and threw himself down beside his friends.
"Bloody hell, Harry, what happened to your curtains this time?!" He exclaimed and Hermione frowned at Ron before asking.
"What's wrong with his curtains?"
Harry blushed and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "I fell asleep holding my wand," he explained and Ron laughed loudly.
"What happened?" Hermione asked again and Ron looked over at her still laughing. "His curtains are all burnt," he managed to snort out before laughing again.
"Har, har, har," Harry deadpanned, ignoring Ron laughing maniacally, and Hermione covering her mouth with a hand to hide her own smile. Ron had finally settled down when Seamus and Dean made their way down to the common room.
"Blimey Harry, what happened to your curtains," Seamus blurted out once he caught sight of the trio on the couch and Ron burst into loud laughter once more and he refused to talk to anyone else about it.
Ron was still snickering every now and then as Harry followed him and Hermione to get their own breakfast, thought it was actually lunch time. He helped himself to another cup of tea and was still sipping on it when Blaise took the empty spot next to him.
"I think I might miss your common room just a little bit Harry," he confessed and Harry turned to look at him. "Don't get me wrong, I won't miss the noise, or the amount of people that seemed to cram themselves into that garishly coloured common room of yours. I will miss that couch by the fire, and the conversations held while a million other conversations go on around, and even the games of chess with Ron." Blaise smiled and Harry returned.
"Well, you're an honorary Gryffindor now, aren't you? You're welcome to visit occasionally."
"Thanks, Harry," Blaise replied, then turned his head when someone shouted his name from the Slytherin table. Daphne Greengrass waved him over and he nodded before holding his hand up to signify for her to wait. He turned back to Harry and clapped a hand on his shoulder, "Guess I'll see you around, Harry," he said and when Harry just nodded he headed over to his friends and sat down at his own house table for the first time in a week.
Harry saw several people lean over and start talking to Blaise, who laughed and raised his hands in supplication before answering their questions animatedly. Harry smiled at the thought of the things the Slytherin was probably describing.
That night as he sat amongst his friends in the chaos that was their common room, Harry felt strangely lonely. Hermione sat next to him reading a large book, whilst occasionally looking up to make tutting noises at the people around them. Ron was in a chair just across from him attempting to teach a frustrated Neville the finer points of chess.
Yet he felt like their was something missing in all the interactions. A personable feeling of closeness that if he was honest had been missing for awhile in the group, but hadn't been able to acknowledge until Blaise had arrived and shown him what was missing.
"I'm going to bed," he stood up quickly, startling Hermione and causing her to drop her book into her lap. She frowned but didn't comment at his abruptness, and with the chorus of several 'goodnights' ringing in his ears, Harry headed up to bed.
He knew it wasn't wise to drink his last dreamless sleep potion now, not when he was yet to reach the bone weary exhaustion he normally reached before he slept, but he just wanted to close his eyes and have time pass him by. He found the vial in his trunk and made sure to change into his pyjamas before he climbed into bed and swallowed the potion down.
Sunday was spent quietly completing any homework due that week and sneaking down to the kitchens with Ron to pig out on chocolate cake and visit with an over-excited, over-eager Dobby.
Monday arrived and soon enough he was on his way down to potions, stomach still a little sore from the violent vomiting he'd done when he woke from a nightmare in the early hours of the morning. The cut he'd made on his lower leg was also still tender and there was a nagging refusal to acknowledge that maybe this one was a little too deep.
It didn't feel right to cut over a healing cut, and as a result he'd needed a new surface area to destroy for a little while. He'd forgotten how easy it was to cut deeply in the fatty, muscled flesh of a calf however, and even with the sharpener blade, he'd cut down to the yellow fatty layer.
As a result, his calf was bandaged as tightly as he possibly could and he was forced to focus as he walked so he wouldn't limp. Blaise narrowed his eyes at Harry when he paused in the doorway of the classroom and looked back and forth between his old bench and Blaise's at the front of the room.
"Don't even think about it Harry, come up here," Blaise demanded and Harry heard someone snicker, but when he looked around everyone seemed busy in their own conversation. Harry moved from the doorway and towards Blaise and placed his bag on the bench in front of him before sitting on the stool.
"How was the rest of your weekend?" Blaise asked and Harry grimaced.
"Loud," he finally replied and Blaise chuckled, "Yours?"
"Quiet," Blaise confessed, this time causing Harry to cough out a small chuckle.
"I bet," he smiled at Blaise and pulled his cauldron and potions kit from his bag just as Professor Snape strode into the room.
They worked together seamlessly throughout the lesson and the end result was yet another passable potion.
"I wish I'd had someone like you from the beginning, maybe my potions scores would have been better," Harry confessed as they were packing up their bags at the end of the class.
"I think just having no one throwing extra ingredients in your potions is helping you immensely."
"You knew what that git was doing?" Harry asked loudly and Blaise grimaced.
"Of course we did, Harry, but you know who he was and who his father was. With the war and all the Voldemort supporters in Slytherin, we had to be seen as supportive. I'm pretty sure even Snape knew what was going in his classroom, but his hands were just as tied as ours."
Harry looked like he was going to continue ranting, but deflated seconds later.
"Yeah, alright, I suppose you're right. Doesn't make it easier to accept, but I think Snape would have been just as much of an asshole to me even if I'd been some sort of Potions prodigy."
Blaise laughed and threw his school bag over his shoulder.
"You're welcome to sit at Slytherin table with me at dinner time, if you'd like. Might as well keep up this inter house unity we've got going on here." Blaise spoke lightly, but held himself tense as he waited for Harry to answer.
"Sure, that sounds fine, and if I sit with Ron and Hermione at lunch, hopefully they wont complain too much where I'm sitting at dinner. Besides I'm sure all your Slytherin friends want to know just how much exaggerating you did when you told them all about your week." Harry smiled cheekily and Blaise checked him with his hip as they left the classroom, causing Harry to blush at the contact.
"Guess I'll see you at dinner," he smiled and left Harry standing in the passage outside potions with a silly smile on his face.
He was right, dinner was spent answering questions about the details Blaise had given the night before, but being careful not to give too much away in case someone listening felt like going to the professors and getting their weekend fun stopped.
That night when Harry went to bed it was with a light heart and a smile on his face. He'd even spent time in the common room getting trounced at chess with Ron and debating the merits of charm versus hex with Hermione.
However, hours later he was once again bent over a toilet bowl heaving harshly in a silenced bathroom while tears streamed unchecked down his face. The nightmares were getting worse, he wasn't just re-living events he'd been in, but was creating things that never occurred, new horrors that seemed real enough while he was dreaming them that they clung to his memory hours after waking.
He needed more dreamless sleep, and he needed a way to get it that didn't involve asking someone who would then ask questions.
The next night found Harry sneaking out of the tower at close to three in the morning, covered in his invisibility cloak and with a spell placed on his shoes to silence them. He made his way unseen and unheard to the hospital wing and paused at the doors to listen before he pushed them open.
There was only one patient asleep on one of the beds, their curtains half-closed to give a semblance of privacy. Madame Pomfrey's office light was off, and he couldn't see her anywhere, but he paused just in the doors for several moments in case she had an alarm spell on the doors to alert her if they were opened.
When he had been standing silently for almost ten minutes and no one appeared, Harry moved further into the room and over to the cabinets he had witnessed Madame Pomfrey take potions from. A simple whispered Alohamora had the cupboard unlocked and he pulled the doors open. There were minimal potions here, but he could see one dreamless sleep potion nestled in the back next to a bone mending one, and he grabbed it before closing the door.
He ran into no one on his way back to Gryffindor, and once he was back in his room he safely stored the vial in his trunk. It was too late to take it now, he'd never be able to wake in time for class, so he settled down on his bed until he could get up and take a shower.
The next night he was practically vibrating with the thought of having another night of unaware bliss and he went to bed early. He spent some time in the shower, trying to wash his latest cut. It was swollen and red and hot to the touch and he knew It was becoming infected.
Having cleaned his leg the best he could he dressed whilst still in the shower stall, made sure to re-cast his usual glamour and padded out to his bed. He slept peacefully that night, and woke with a smile on his face. He needed more tonight.
His friends seemed to see that something was going on with Harry, but since he interacted with them, was talking and eating and doing all his schoolwork, it seemed like they had decided to leave him alone. A part of Harry resented them for finally doing what he had wanted them to do from day one, but most of him just enjoyed the fact they were finally doing it now.
He spent the afternoon in the library discreetly looking up unlocking charms, and detection and dis-arm alarms so he could access Madame Pomfrey's bigger supply cupboard. Hopefully there would be more vials in there.
Three o'clock in the morning once again found Harry sneaking his way into the hospital wing, cloak and spells set to keep him hidden. He was right in his knowledge that the bigger supply cupboard had more charms and locks, but with his new found information and determination it was only fifteen minutes later that he was sneaking back out of the hospital wing with several Dreamless sleep potions clenched in his hand.
Blaise commented on his appearance again the next day and Harry smiled and explained that he'd finally gone to the hospital wing and gotten some dreamless sleep off Madame Pomfrey. Blaise had looked at him then, trying to divine if Harry was being honest, but since he had actually gotten the dreamless sleep from the hospital wing, Blaise seemed satisfied with what he saw on Harry's face and left it alone, merely reminding him to not take it nightly.
He tried. He really did try to skip a night, but when he fell asleep in the early hours of the morning and woke shouting to find Ron watching him with a worried expression on his face, he knew he couldn't skip a night.
So to all his friends, he appeared to be sleeping better, and thus eating and participating better in school and house activities, and a bit of the old Harry personality appeared. Blaise was the only one who seemed curious at the sudden change in Harry, but kept his opinions to himself too afraid to lose the friendship.
A week passed quickly and before harry knew it he had used the last of the potions he had stolen. The cut on his leg had also started to ooze green pus and he knew he needed to get something for it, so as he sat and played chess with Ron in the common room, he planned his next trip to the hospital wing.
Once again, in the early hours of the morning Harry rose from his bed and pulled his cloak around his shoulders after casting a muffling charm on his feet. The fat lady murmured at the door opening yet seeing no one there, but quickly fell back to sleep.
He almost ran into Mrs Norris, who seemed to be taking guard at the end of the hall, but after vigorously sniffing the air where Harry stood and not seeing anyone, she soon gave up and wandered off. Harry breathed out the breath he'd been holding and continued on his way.
The hospital wing was empty of students once more, but Madame Pomfrey's office light was on when Harry silently pushed open the doors. He inhaled loudly before throwing his hand over his mouth and freezing still as the door closed quietly on its hinges behind him.
When no one appeared at the small amount of noise he had made, he hesitantly stepped forward until he could peer into the office. It was empty and he breathed out a sigh of relief before looking around. There was nothing in the room that seemed like someone could be hiding behind it, and so he figured she must have accidently left the candle burning and moved over to the cupboard.
He cast the spells he needed to unlock and pulled the doors open. He knew where the dreamless sleep was kept, but took a minute to examine the contents for a healing paste that might help his leg. When he found something that seemed like it would work, he reached out a hand and grabbed it along with another handful of dreamless.
He closed the cupboard and re-locked it then turning toward the exit almost dropped the vials in his hand.
Professor Snape stood in front of the doors with his arms across his chest and a large scowl on his face.
"Come out Potter," he said and Harry flinched beneath his cloak, but did not remove it.
"Don't be stupid, boy," he growled, "I know it is you beneath that infernal cloak of your fathers, who else would be conceited and stupid enough to think the stores of the hospital wings cupboards were not being monitored. I will not remove myself from my position, and so you are stuck within this room until I am satisfied with your explanation, or I am dragging you to headmasters office to have you expelled." Snape practically spat out his words and Harry felt tears come to his eyes when he realised he truly was caught.
He pulled off his cloak and forced a defiant expression on his face, belied by the tears still threatening to fall.
"Come here," Snape snapped out and Harry moved slowly toward the man, vials clutched protectively to his chest.
"Don't be daft, boy, you will not be allowed to keep what you have stolen."
Harry shook his head and stopped several feet in front of the imposing man, who then moved forward to snatch the vials from Harry roughly.
"Not a week ago, several vials of dreamless sleep disappeared from this wing, and now tonight, you attempt to steal more. What on earth are you doing with it all?" Snape asked and Harry replied too quietly.
"Speak up!" Snape practically roared and this time Harry did flinch.
"It's for me," he explained, "I've been taking it."
"Every night?" Snape seemed bewildered and Harry shrugged before nodding.
"You idiot boy!" He snarled, "Did you not know the warnings that say you need at least a day, preferably two or three, before taking another dose?" When Harry nodded again Snape seemed to go red with rage.
"You could have killed yourself if you continued," he yelled and Harry looked at him questioningly.
"I was told it would just stop working," he tried to justify and Snape seemed to turn even redder.
"Whoever told you that is an imbecile!" He snapped. "While it is true that prolonged use of Dreamless sleep will lower it's efficaciousness, it is the effect it can have on your psyche that is the issue. If you are taking it because of intense, realistic nightmares, which I assume is your reasoning," he paused to look at Harry who nodded once more.
"Then it will only suppress the dreams whilst it is in your system. Eventually, you would have found yourself hallucinating the contents of your dreams during the daylight hours as the last of the nights potions moved out of your system."
"This would have worsened until your brain eventually shut down and began to kill you from the inside out!" When he finally finished shouting Harry was white with shock and trembling and Snape seemed to take a small pity on him.
"Your dreams are your minds way of working through an issue, and where sometimes they seem to be too real, or too frightening, you must not push them away." He explained, finally lowering his tone so he wasn't yelling anymore.
"Stay there, Potter, I will return these to their rightful place and then I will walk you to your common room. We will discuss your discipline in the morning." Professor Snape gathered the vials together and moved smoothly across the room to cast his own unlocking charms on the cupboard.
Briefly Harry thought about making a run for it while the doors were unguarded, but there was really nowhere for him to run to that Snape wouldn't simply find him.
"What is this Potter?" He heard Snape ask and he turned his head to see Snape holding out the antibiotic potion he'd taken.
"Uh, must have grabbed that on accident, " he shrugged his shoulders and Snape narrowed his eyes at him.
"They are on different sides of the cupboard and Madame Pomfrey keeps a perfect system. After all, she wouldn't want to grab the wrong potion in an emergency. Now I will ask again, what was this for?"
Harry was deeply regretting not running while he had the chance.
"I have a cut on my leg that looks infected," he explained and Snape continued to stare at Harry with narrowed eyes.
"Take a seat potter and roll up your trouser leg," he said, moving away from the cupboard still clutching the potion. Harry shook his head vigorously and backed up towards the doors. Professor Snape was too quick for him, and cast a locking charm on the door before summoning Harry's wand to himself.
"I said, sit Potter, do not make me force you," his voice was deadly and Harry moved over to the closest bed and sat.
Snape was forced to roll Harry's pants leg up himself as Harry sat on the bed and trembled.
"This is several days old," Snape said after examining the cut. "Why did you not come to hospital wing when it first occurred? Why steal a potion that Poppy would gladly give to you herself?" Harry refused to answer and Snape looked up from his examination of the cut and stared at Harry for several long, mortifying seconds before understanding lit his face.
"This cut is self-inflicted," he proclaimed and Harry flinched back but did not deny it.
"I will have to call Madame Pomfrey and have you examined," he told Harry, and for a moment he couldn't breathe through his panic. He shook his head viciously, despite the dizziness that caused but Professor Snape merely summoned his Doe patronus.
"Poppy, you are needed in the infirmary."