Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. No money is being made off this story.

Dreaming of You

Chapter 5: Waking Nightmare

Minutes, hours, days trickled by like sand in an overturned hourglass. Harry received an owl from Snape much sooner than he was hoping (which was never, if he was going to be completely honest). It was Wednesday evening just after dinner. Harry was standing in the entrance hall with Ron and Hermione, who was telling the other two about her recent meeting with Dumbledore. She relayed the details in a whisper.

"Dumbledore said I am welcome to my own room, if I so choose. He said he should have thought of Head Boys and Girls having their own space to sleep and study long ago. It would mean less distractions and stress, allowing us to focus more on our responsibilities…"

Harry nodded, a small smile tugging at his mouth. It seemed like the headmaster didn't have to say too much to sway Hermione to accept the invitation.

Just as his mind began wandering away from the one-sided conversation, Harry heard a low hoo behind him. A school owl was resting on the stone staircase, holding its leg out to him. He untied the letter and watched as the bird flew off. He then unrolled the small piece of parchment.

Hospital wing, 8 o'clock this evening

Do not be late.

It wasn't signed, but after having Snape scrawl all over his homework and essays over the last six years, it wasn't all that difficult to recognize the handwriting. He heaved a sigh.

"Another meeting with Dumbledore?"

Harry jumped, nearly forgetting about Ron and Hermione. After regaining his composure, he nodded. His friends gave twin nods of understanding and went back to chatting. Harry's shoulders slumped in relief; lying became a little easier when Ron and Hermione started assuming he was going to see Dumbledore every time he got a letter and had to disappear. The less answers he had to make up, the less chance there was to screw up everything and put them at additional risk.

Harry glanced at his watch. It was twenty of. He heaved another quiet sigh. So much for fair warning. He exchanged a quick farewell with his friends and set off up the staircase, the parchment clenched tight in his fist.

Harry dragged his feet, trepidation rolling off him in thick waves. Once he reached the quite familiar double doors, his mouth was dry and his heart was pounding in his throat. He mentally kicked himself. Where is that so-called Gryffindor courage? He resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he straightened his shoulders and took a few deep breaths.

Cautiously and quietly, Harry opened the door. He relaxed minimally when he saw the main room was empty. The last couple of times he visited there was a patient behind a pulled curtain. No one saw him, but it would be rather hard to explain his many visits to the hospital wing over such a short period of time. Ron and Hermione would start questioning his actions if he took his invisibility cloak with him. Instead, he'd taken to watching over his shoulder, making sure he wasn't being followed by a curious peer. Yup, I'm losing it.

As always, the door to the intensive care ward was pulled shut. The small hairs on his arms and neck stood on end when he reached for the handle. When his fingers connected with the metal, he experienced what felt like a strong electrical shock. Jumping back, a string of colorful profanities on the tip of his tongue, Harry examined his hand. No blood, but his fingertips were stinging and smarting like mad. He barely registered the door swinging open to admit him.

"We don't have all evening, Potter," Snape drawled from within the room. Rubbing his fingers to ease the pain, Harry stomped inside. He narrowed his eyes at the smirking professor. Leave it to Snape to use a ward that practically electrocuted people. The door swung shut behind him.

Harry took his place in the chair in the corner before letting his eyes rest on Malfoy. His rival was sitting cross-legged over his bed covers, his head bowed over the clenched hands in his lap, not acknowledging Harry's presence; he had been ignoring him since the sleepwalking incident. His hair was unkempt, hanging to obscure the top half of his face. The color he regained over the last week had all but disappeared; his cheeks were sunken and had a tinge of gray. If Harry didn't know any better, he would say Malfoy was scared. Honestly, after glimpsing part of what he went through, he could hardly blame him.

Harry listened intently as Snape went over the basics of Occlumency and Legilimency (solely for his benefit, he was sure); he did not want to give the man the excuse to suddenly invade his mind to see if he was preparing his defenses. When he finished, the professor turned toward him, his wand at the ready.

"This time you know it's coming, Potter. Obviously, that won't always be the case." Harry heard the threat in his words. He supposed he should start practicing more, just in case Snape decided to attack him in the middle of a corridor. He quickly made an attempt to discard all thoughts and emotions. Taking a deep breath, he relaxed his muscles and met his professor's gaze.

"Legilimens."

Harry felt as if a vice clamped his head, pressure building behind his temples. His vision darkened around the edges, making him feel like he was going through a tunnel. Miraculously, Snape stayed in focus. However, the small surge of surprise he felt caused him to falter, and before he knew it he was having his childhood memories rifled through. He fought hard to close the door on the connection between their minds before his professor found anything too embarrassing. However, Snape withdrew before he was able to succeed.

When the hospital room came back into view, he hesitantly met Snape's eyes again, expecting a reprimand for his failure. However, the man looked somewhat surprised.

"Well, I am almost impressed, Potter," he said. "Here I thought you would end up on the floor in a matter of seconds. You obviously still need to work on bottling up your emotions, but I dare say that was not a horrible attempt."

Harry rubbed at his scar, feeling only a hint of pain. The clamminess and nausea he experienced in prior lessons were absent. He sat back in his seat, a sigh of relief escaping his lips. Maybe he could do this after all.

"Alright, Draco," Snape muttered, causing said boy to sit up straight, his eyes dodging to the side. His hands were shaking worse. "I know you are still unwell, but you have to understand that I will not go too easy on you. You have to be able to fortify your mind and hide your thoughts and intentions. This is of utmost importance. The smallest slip could mean death." Harry's eyes darted to his professor, shocked at his blunt words. They seemed to be the right ones to say, however, because Malfoy looked up and met Snape's gaze. Harry watched as his pinched, scared face immediately cleared and became a mask, his eyes sharp and steady. He clamped his shaking hands more tightly together. Seeing plenty of Malfoy's cowardice over the years, Harry couldn't help but to be impressed at the utter change. After a small nod, Snape attacked.

It was disconcerting to Harry watching another person go through what he just experienced. The sheer determination and battle of wills were evident on both faces. A fine sheen of sweat broke out on Malfoy's forehead after a couple moments. Harry knew the moment the other boy had failed when his mask faltered, his eyes widening in horror. His jaw clamped shut, but a strangled scream made it out of his throat. The sound caused the hair on the back of Harry's neck to stand on end, gooseflesh breaking out over his arms. Snape immediately broke the contact, and Malfoy slumped over on his bed, his chest heaving.

"Drink this." The professor pulled a vial of potion out of the pocket of his robes. Harry was fairly certain it was a Calming Draught. Malfoy fumbled with the cork for a moment. Once he succeeded, he downed the liquid in one swig. Distaste flashed across his face before he leaned back against his pillows, his eyes closed.

"I will give you a few minutes to recover, Draco, but please understand you have to try again. This time you will attempt to break through Potter's defenses, and he yours."

Malfoy stopped mid nod at the man's words, his eyes flying open and darting toward Harry, who gulped and hesitantly met the steely gaze. Snape was trouble enough, but Malfoy could destroy him and make his life utter hell with what he may potentially see. However, a small voice in the back corner of his mind reminded him that there will probably be a lot of things in Malfoy's head that he shouldn't see. Harry held his stare, not backing down from a challenge, all the while building what he hoped to be an impregnable fortress in his mind.

"All right, Draco," Snape said after another moment. "You first." He sat back in his chair, his brow furrowed.

Malfoy picked up his wand. He opened and closed his mouth a few times before finally whispering "Legilimens."

The pressure returned. Harry clenched his jaw; if he was able to assign an emotion to the force assaulting him, it would be anger, with many others underlying it. Snape's attempt was impersonal. Malfoy's carried his essence, what he must unconsciously be feeling. Harry didn't

think it was normal to experience this, but his knowledge of this branch of magic is severely lacking. He thought he was holding up well, until Malfoy honed his attack to a knife-sharp point, aiming at a weakness in his defense. His wall shattered and his vision blackened. Seconds later his past was rearing its ugly head. Dudley was chasing him around the yard, smacking at his legs with a large stick, raising welts and bruises that would last for days… Classmates in primary school laughing behind his back about his baggy, hand-me-down clothes… So many more long-buried memories shuffled to the forefront of his mind, overwhelming him. His gathered as much mental energy as he could to push Malfoy back. He was met with marginal success.

The other boy withdrew. When Harry's vision cleared, he saw Malfoy slumped on his bed again, breathing as if he had been running. It appeared as if he taxed his energy and magic supply quite heavily. Snape handed him a small vial of Invigoration Draught. Harry wondered just how many potions Snape had in reserve in his pockets. Malfoy gulped the liquid, shuddering at the taste. Harry met his eyes and raised his wand. A silent question passed between them. Malfoy nodded, though his pupils were dilated with fear. Harry, wondering what he was in store for if he succeeded, uttered the incantation.

"Legilimens."

He felt his conscious rush forward, only to become caught in what felt like steel spider webs. The feeling of still being able to see Malfoy but having his self-awareness elsewhere was disconcerting. He centered his focus so he didn't break the connection. Harry pushed and twisted, looking for weak strands that would allow him entry.

He found one.

With a strong mental shove, the web gave way, causing Harry to ungracefully tumble into Malfoy's mind. He would definitely have to work on his finesse. The onslaught of memories made Harry feel like he was going to be crushed or drown, or both.

His father training him in the Unforgivables at the age of twelve… Being physically punished for his grades falling below those of a Mudblood… Hatred, terror, and defiance intermingle as he stares wide-eyed at his father and the Dark Lord… Pain rips away all rational thought as he falls to the ground, losing control of his body, laughter echoing above him… Flashes of black dark as night, vivid green, light reflecting off glass…

The memories became more disjointed and incomprehensible as Malfoy gained his mental footing and threw Harry out of his head. He fell back, boneless, air ripping in and out of his lungs, sweat running in small rivulets down his ashen face. A wave of fatigue crashed over Harry out of nowhere, causing his eyelids to flutter in surprise, his heart pounding in his chest.

"That's enough for tonight," Snape muttered. He gave Malfoy a critical onceover, his mouth pulling down into a frown. "As much as it pains me to say it, Potter, that could have been a lot worse. Keep practicing, and you may have a firm command of Occlumency in the near future." The mild almost-praise stunned Harry. He surreptitiously pinched his arm to make sure this wasn't a surreal dream. "Now get out." He bit back a smart retort and slipped out of the room without a backward glance.

The corridors were dark, and eerily silent, what with it now being past curfew. Harry mentally kicked himself for not asking Snape for a note in case he got caught. He knew Dumbledore was aware of these lessons, but Filch wouldn't believe him on his word alone. He stuck to the shadows along the walls and managed to make it back to the common room without running into the miserable caretaker and his furry, four-legged accomplice.

The rest of the school week flew past like the previous. Harry slogged through his homework and essays at Hermione's behest, and he wasn't in the mood to argue. Besides, it wouldn't do to fall behind during his seventh year when he had N.E.W.T.s to look forward to in June. If I manage to make it through the rest of the year. He roughly pushed the dark thought aside.

Saturday morning dawned dreary. Harry woke to an owl tapping at the dormitory window closest to his bed. Ignoring the mumbled curses from Seamus' bed, he climbed out from underneath the covers, hissing when his feet touch the cold stones. He padded over to the window and let in the irritable, rain-flecked owl. The bird took off as soon as the scroll was untied, obviously hoping its services were no longer needed.

Harry,

Meet me in the corridor behind the painting of Emeric Switch on the sixth floor at your earliest convenience. The password is "clypeum." Please come alone.

The note wasn't signed, but like Snape's handwriting, Harry has come to easily recognize Dumbledore's. He assumed he knew what this was about. Sighing quietly, with a brief longing glance at his bed, Harry got dressed, grabbed the Marauder's Map, and managed to leave the dormitory without further incident.

When Harry reached the sixth floor portrait, it took him only a few tries to get the pronunciation of the password correct. The portrait opened outward, bringing a corridor into view. The walls were high and straight, unmarked save for bracketed torches well above his head. At the very end, in front of a gothic cathedral-styled window, stood the headmaster. Harry counted three doors as he proceeded, one on the left, two on the right. He assumed they all led to sleeping quarters.

"Good morning, Harry," Dumbledore said as soon as Harry stopped beside him. They both stood looking out of the window, which overlooked the lake. "I thank you for coming on such short notice, and I would like to apologize for drawing you out of bed so early on a Saturday." Harry merely nodded in understanding, although he still wasn't happy about the whole ordeal.

They stood in silence for a couple moments. Harry was just about to ask what they were waiting for when he heard the portrait behind them creak open. He spun around, relaxing only minutely when he saw Snape and Malfoy making their way down the corridor. Malfoy still looked a bit peaky, but his jaw was clenched in determination and his chin was proudly held high. Harry could barely stop his eyes from rolling at the reemergence of his rival.

"Headmaster, Potter," Snape said in lieu of a greeting. Malfoy merely nodded before letting his gaze drift to the side.

"Severus, Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore responded. "Good morning. Shall we?"

The headmaster turned toward the door they were standing closest to, the one at the end of the corridor. "Now, these rooms haven't been used in quite some time, so their state leaves a little to be desired. However, several house elves have been doing all they can to breathe some life back into the two you boys will be staying in so they are fit for occupation. To move the process along, we will be lending our assistance." Harry glared at Malfoy when he snorted quietly in derision. Dumbledore ignored the exchange. "If all goes well, you will be settled by tomorrow evening, and Draco, you will be able to attend classes on Monday." A little more color seemed to leave Malfoy's face at those last words. All the same, he stood straighter.

"Yes, headmaster," he muttered, his voice raspy. Dumbledore placed his hand on door handle and pushed the door open; the hinges emitted a high-pitched creak, causing everyone to cringe in discomfort. The headmaster tapped each hinge to silence it before they went inside.

They walked into what appeared to be a sitting room. The floor was stone with a large rug in the center. A couch sat atop it, facing a fireplace. A large enchanted window took up a good portion of the opposite wall. There was a single doorway to the right. A thick layer of dust had settled over most of the available surfaces in the room, but Harry could see where the elves have made repairs and scrubbed the old stone.

"Draco, this is your suite. Through that door is the bedroom, and another door from there leads to a bathroom. Harry, yours is the next one down on this side of the corridor." He pushed up his sleeves and held up his wand. "Shall we begin?"

It took Harry what felt like hours to scrub and rinse all the grime from his skin later that evening. Concerned questions about his appearance arose when Harry met back up with his friends, so he finally told them he was going to be staying in a room of his own as well. He gritted his teeth and reluctantly accepted Hermione's words of comfort regarding his nightmares and visions. She was optimistic about him overcoming this obstacle. He hugged her tightly, trying to hide the tears in the corners of his eyes, while Ron patted his shoulder. What did he do to deserve such friends? His relief was palpable, but guilt still loomed in the back of his mind and settled heavily in his chest. His sleep was troubled that night.

Sunday was almost a repeat of the day before. Harry was jarred awake just before dawn by another owl. He dragged himself to his new quarters, where Dumbledore was waiting for him. He was informed that Malfoy would be resting until after dinner, when they would begin the process of settling in. Harry barely refrained from scoffing at the headmaster's words; he ended up biting his tongue hard enough to taste copper.

They managed to put the finishing touches on both rooms about an hour before students would begin gathering in the Great Hall. Dumbledore informed him that his trunk and other possessions would be transferred to his new room before dinner was over. The same went for Malfoy's.

"There are a few more things I wanted to tell you before we part, Harry," the headmaster continued, his tone becoming quite serious. "A few other professors and I will be constructing wards to be placed along this corridor, as well as on both of your doors. They will be attuned to your and Mr. Malfoy's magical signatures, so it shouldn't feel like much more than walking through layers of gauzy fabric when you pass through them. However, they will quickly act against anyone who manages to come past the portrait with Dark or malicious intent."

Harry nodded, trying to swallow past the lump in his throat. He was really beginning to see just how serious this situation is. He had thought of asking why Malfoy couldn't be moved out of the castle to a safe house of some kind, but maybe he really could be better protected here with Dumbledore around, not to mention the ingrained protections of Hogwarts itself.

"A doorway will link your rooms, in case of any problems or emergencies. If any arise, please contact me immediately. I have arranged Mr. Malfoy's class schedule to coincide with yours. I'm sorry if you feel like we are shouldering you with bodyguard duty, Harry, but his enemies are highly dangerous and great in number. However, unlike you, he seems to be lacking in allies. I believe you can be instrumental in swaying his loyalty, as well as others' opinions of him. There is good in him – it just has to be vitalized. I highly recommend working past your animosity as the first step. Miracles do happen." A small smile tugged at his beard, but his eyes were somewhat sad.

"Dinner will be starting soon, so I won't keep you much longer," Dumbledore continued. He rested a gentle hand on Harry's shoulder. "If you have any questions, issues, or just feel the need to get something off your chest, please come to me. Do not feel as if you have to burden yourself with every little thing until you break under pressure. The other professors and I will provide you with every bit of support you require." He gave a single nod in farewell and departed.

Harry stood in the quiet corridor for a moment longer, contemplating the headmaster's words. He couldn't deny that he was initially angry when he found out he had to move out of the tower to watch over Malfoy. However, he could see the sense in what Dumbledore had told him. Harry excelled in Defense, so he would be an obvious choice to protect someone, loathe as he was to admit it. He supposed it all boiled down to his "saving people thing," as Hermione so lovingly put it. Not to mention, Malfoy has insider knowledge of Voldemort's forces. Although he wondered if they trusted him with much of anything. He supposed it couldn't hurt to find out. The problem would be getting Malfoy to part with that knowledge. He sighed heavily.

After casting a hurried "Tergeo" to siphon the layer of dust and dirt on his skin, Harry made his way down to the Great Hall.

The next school week started off sluggish. The most excitement Harry had was waking up in a panic on Monday morning, momentarily forgetting where he was. Once he got his heart back under control, he started getting ready for the day.

Harry squinted at Malfoy when he walked into the first class, noticing there appeared to be a lack of bags under his eyes and more color to his complexion. He knew it had to be a glamour charm, but it was disconcerting to see such a change. Harry noticed he still didn't have a lot of energy – it was apparent in the slight hunch of his shoulders and his slower pace.

Most of the student population seemed to accept Malfoy's cover story about an ill family member. The only doubt seemed to come from Slytherin, which honestly didn't come as a surprise. He could see it when Malfoy walked into class. The mutinous expressions that showed briefly on Malfoy's housemates' faces caused a shiver to travel down Harry's spine. He saw two of the boys lean close to one another. They spoke in very hushed voices, so Harry couldn't hear what they were discussing. However, the lip curls and narrowed eyes aimed at Malfoy were a tell-all.

From his vantage point in the back of the room, it looked to Harry as if Malfoy didn't notice the stares. However, when he took his seat on the opposite side of the room from the Slytherins and began going through his bag, Harry could see his hands shaking.

By the time Friday arrived, there hadn't been any worrisome additions made to the rumor mill, as far as Harry was aware anyway. He hated rumors with a passion, but he figured that'd be where trouble had a major chance of starting. The worst he'd heard were questions regarding the other Slytherins' rejection of Malfoy. When his own best friends began wondering about it as well, he said, "There are probably some unknown Slytherin politics at work here. Maybe Malfoy looked at someone the wrong way and now his position as prince of Slytherin has been overthrown." He added an eye roll and a shrug for good measure. This earned laughter from the duo, and from that point on the questions stopped cropping up. The Slytherins who were in the know remained silent on the matter.

It became apparent that Malfoy would no longer be coming to the Great Hall for meals. Not once had Harry seen him seated at the Slytherin table, so he assumed Malfoy was taking his meals in his room. He couldn't help but think that that was a very smart idea. Harry did his best to tail him from a distance in the corridors, but he saw no evidence of harassment. However, rather than being relieved, he felt rather disconcerted.

After dinner on Friday, Hermione pulled Harry aside. "Harry, would it be possible to borrow your map?" she asked in a whisper. "I need to talk to Malfoy about assigning the prefects their duties, among other things. I'm not sure where his room is located." Harry nodded and pulled out the map he had taken to carrying with him everywhere. He'd rather give up his map than explain how Malfoy's room was right next to his and why that was the case. He knew they'd find out eventually, but it wasn't necessary just yet. He'd managed to keep Ron and Hermione from his room so far by hanging out with them in Hermione's or Gryffindor Tower with their other friends.

"Thank you, Harry," Hermione said with a grin. "I'll give it back as soon as I catch up with you guys in the library. Then we can start on our Transfiguration and Defense essays." Ron bit back a groan. "See you soon!" She activated the map, perused it quickly, and then set off up the Grand Staircase at a brisk pace.

"She shouldn't be gone too long. I guess we should start making our way to the library," Harry said. Ron snorted in response. They followed Hermione's path, but at a much more leisurely pace, in no hurry to get to the stuffy library.

On the way along the first floor corridor, Harry and Ron paused at a window from which the Quidditch pitch could be seen. "I wonder who will end up on the team this year," Ron said. He shook his head briefly. "I still can't believe I was made captain. I thought for sure it'd be you, mate."

"Nah, you're a much better strategist. I'm not interested in heading the team anyway," Harry responded, glad to be able to tell a truth for once. It would just be additional responsibilities that he didn't need right now. He also didn't like standing in front of people and talking.

"I suppose I should talk to McGonagall about booking the pitch," Ron went on. "I know the Slytherins are looking to start their tryouts soon. I still can't believe they booted the ferret off the team." They had seen a flyer someone left lying around just that morning; it listed the positions they were looking to fill, Seeker being one of them. "I know they're having internal issues, but damn. I hate to admit it, but Malfoy is a decent flyer. Hopefully whoever they find to replace him isn't even half as good, then they won't stand a chance." They started on their way again.

As they turned a corner, a deep, cutting pain flared across Harry's back. He cried out, stumbling sideways against the wall.

"Harry! What's wrong?" Ron grabbed his elbow to keep him upright. "Is it a vision? C'mon mate, stay with me." Harry shook his head as his vision swam and darkened. The pain throbbed across his spine in time with his rapid heartbeat. He reached a shaking hand back and touched the spot. He hissed in pain and fell to his knees. Ron knelt down next to him. His freckles were standing out in stark contrast against his pale skin, his eyes wide with fright and concern.

"What is it, Harry?" He examined Harry's back, but nothing appeared to be wrong. There was no blood or any other evidence of injury. Still, he wasn't any less concerned. "C'mon, let's get you to the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey will be able to figure it out." He helped Harry to his feet and tried to lead him down the corridor.

They didn't make it far before they heard a surprised shriek and several gasps from students who were milling around the entrance to the library around they just passed. Running footsteps came up behind them.

"Ron! Harry!"

Ron craned his neck to look behind him. He nearly dropped Harry in shock. "Hermione!" Harry turned as carefully as he could, gritting his teeth against the pain.

Hermione ran up to them, ignoring the students who had followed her and were standing at the other end of the corridor, staring and calling questions. Harry could see why when he finally managed to face the other way. His jaw fell open when he saw his other friend. There was blood spattered across the front of her robes, and her shaking hands were covered with it. However, her paper-white face showed only fright, not pain. Was she not injured? Then what –?

"Harry! Malfoy's been cursed!"

TBC