More Harry-centric this time. But I couldn't keep Albus all of the way out.
~Multi-Faceted~
III: Nightmares
Every night they came back with a vengeance.
Such horrible, twisted dreams that they sent Harry into screaming fits. At times he was being tortured; sometimes his friends were being tortured in front of him, and he screamed to no avail. Stop, stop, STOP! But it never did, and when they turned to kill him too he felt ill with dread...
Harry woke shrieking, but never alone.
Albus would immediately pull Harry into his arms and rock him consistently as the boy sobbed out his dream, and murmur nonsense until he went quiet. If Harry could not fall instantly back asleep, a mug of hot chocolate alongside a soothing, nightmare-free conversation and a midnight snack brought back the boy Albus so loved.
The headmaster's nightmares, on the other hand, were older, more refined, bloodier, and their influence not so easy to shake off. His moans and rampant, destructive magic woke Harry in a matter of moments on an average summer night. When the boy did manage to wake Albus, the man often took one look at him before Harry found himself being tightly hugged, and he had to reconsider going back to his room.
Whatever the solution, though, both always managed to help the other. And they knew: without the other, neither would ever get much sleep in any home.