Waking Up

Disclaimer: As much as I wish.. No, I do not own these wonderful characters. They belong to the witch of the writing world: J.K Rowlings. I am simply playing with them.

A/N: This is my first HP fict. I recently fell in love with the Potterverse and have since spent more time than I should reading fanficts of that nature. I'm a big fan of the delicious Snape, Harry and Draco too. Actually, the only character I really can't stand is Umbridge, although, Dumbledore still ticks me off to no end. I also like parts of DH, but feel that Snape's end was unjust. (Another fict dealing with that is in the works.) Hence, I tend to ignore it, or strive to rework it in someway, and I know I'm not alone in that. I hope to bring something new to the table with my take on things. Anyway, enough of my ramblings. Enjoy. Please, no flames. I try to keep them in character as much as I can, however, there is a depth to Snape that I think we weren't really allowed to explore. Also, this will be slash eventually. HP/SS of course. Comments welcome. Thanks!

-1- Visions

"Kill him."

The hiss was understandable to only three occupants in the dumpy room of the broken down shack. Unfortunately, the intended victim was not one of them. Green eyes hidden beneath a shimmering cloak of invisibly widened in horror as the young man realized just whom the large snake was about to kill. Unable to move from his hiding spot, for fear of exposing himself unduly, his fist raised to his open lips trying to stifle the sobbing scream that fought to get free. Uncharacteristic tears streamed from his eyes as he watched the great Potions Master sink to the dirty floor, dust and blood mingling in a hideous varnish, his throat now sporting two gaping holes. As the man screamed, the observer watched as red eyes gleamed with insanity, a skeletal like face stretched in a gruesome grin. Black robes swirled, and the creature and her master were gone. Throwing off his cloak, the young man rushed to the fallen's side, his screaming sobs matching that of his counter part.

"Don't go, please. Look at me," the fallen man gasped out, his words gurgled with the overflow of his seeping blood. Sinking to his knees, the younger man grasped pale long fingers in his.

"I won't. I'm here. I'll stay right here."

Harry awoke with a start, his limbs shaking uncontrollably. Gasping in large gulps of air, he pushed a trembling hand through his mass of unruly curls, and shot to his feet. A sense of urgency threatened to overwhelm him. Reaching for his Invisibility cloak, he hastily shoved his bare feet into his worn shoes and stumbled across the floor. His friends slept soundly, undisturbed by his movements, and for once he was glad that Ron and company were such deep sleepers. He didn't want to answer questions as to his destination just now.

Carefully creeping down the stairs, he quickly walked across the Common Room floor, only to be stopped by a whispered "Harry?" Pausing, he cast a quick look over his shoulder and let out a sigh as his gaze lit on Hermione sitting in a high-back chair, reading. Concern flashed in her eyes and she frowned.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

Harry shook his head. "Just need some air," he replied.

She nodded in understanding, knowing the stress of their seventh year, and the continuous weight of trying to find the Horcruxes was taking its toll on him. If the dark shadows under his expressive eyes and the paleness to his skin were any indication, she would guess he hadn't been sleeping much, and what little he got was restless. She watched him silently, worry still cast upon her features. She hoped and prayed to whatever gods were listening that soon all this would be over.

Harry's feet made little noise as he navigated the hall corridors on his way to the one place he was sure to find his quarry. At 2:30 in the morning, when most of Hogwarts was asleep, its Headmaster would patrol the halls, looking for any unsuspecting child out of bed. It seemed to delight the harsh man, terrorizing his students with detentions and the like. Harry had been subject to his scowling face and stinging words more than once. Anymore, though, they hardly saw each other, a strange thing to be sure. So with determination, Harry hoped tonight would be different. Looking over his map, he saw the ribbon containing the Headmaster's name floating closer to his position. With a sigh of relief, he stripped his cloak off; waiting.

He was not disappointed. Soon enough, the footstep thumped to a stop and with a billow of robes, Severus Snape halted right in front of him.

"Mr. Potter," Snape sneered, his thin lips curling back in a severe fashion.

Harry raised his eyes and blinked. "Yes?" he asked quietly.

"Might I ask as to why you have taken to roaming the halls at this hour? Isn't your insufferable presence enough during the day? Or perhaps you are sleep walking once again?" Snape asked, his voice lined with thinly veiled disgust.

Harry didn't even flinch. "Actually, Headmaster, I was looking for you." he replied respectfully, not wanting to distress the man further. An eyebrow flew up at his answer, and Snape's face lost some of its anger.

"And why exactly would you be looking for me, Mr. Potter?"

Harry bit his lower lip, trying to decide how to explain what had driven him from his bed this night. "Could we go to your office, sir? I'd rather discuss this in private, if that's okay."

Snape nodded, turning on his heel and marching back the way he had came. Harry, after a sigh, followed under the cloak once again, quickly and quietly. It wouldn't do for one of his fellow students to spot them. He paused a little ways away from the Headmasters office, waiting for Snape to open the quarters. The gargoyle snorted and moved, allowing the two of them to past. Once inside, Harry removed his cloak once more, sinking into the proffered chair. Heaving a deep sigh, he removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes tiredly. Snape sat opposite him, not quite glaring at him across the massive desk. Stapling his long fingers, he waited. Moments of silent stretched between them as Harry strove to find the right words to begin.

"I..er…" he trailed off, grimacing when he saw the irritation bloom on Snape's face.

"Eloquent as always, I see, Mr. Potter. Perhaps you would like to regale me further with this dribble?" Harry shook his head. "No? Then you are here to waste my time. Please show yourself out, and see me for detention tomorrow." With a wave of his hand, he dismissed the young man. His words had the desired effect. Harry's head shot up, and he jumped to his feet.

"Wait, sir, I need to tell you something."

Snape smirked. "Really? I thought that was why you had requested this little tête-à-tête. Now, if you have recovered your sense of speech…" He gestured with his hand and Harry sat back down.

"I had another vision tonight. Or… something like a vision." He scratched his head and bit his lower lip.

Snape leaned forward, his attention suddenly caught. "Like a vision?"

Harry nodded. "It wasn't like the other ones I've had, you know, being there as something is happening. Well, I was, but…"he paused, trying to collect his thoughts.

"What was the difference between this one and your others?" Snape asked quietly, surprising the young wizard.

Harry shrugged tiredly. "It seemed like a dream, or at least…" he trailed off. He frowned, worry lines etching his brow. "No, it was a dream, obviously." He looked up at his old nemesis. "Because you're still alive."

It was Snape's turn to frown, which he did quite darkly. "Because I'm alive? Potter, you're not making any sense. What does my demise have to do with your vision?"

"Your death was my vision. It was like I was seeing what will happen to you, not what is happening." Harry got to his feet and began pacing, waving his hands around in sporadic motions. "I mean, I was there, like I always am in these things, but it was different. I saw you die. And it felt so real, and yet… you're here, and just fine." His gaze trailed over the Potions Master frantically, as if he would see some indication that the vision had been of the present and not the future. Shaking his head, he walked up to the desk, slamming his fists down on the top. His eyes wild, he cried out "Why does he keep doing this to me? These damn teases that I can't do anything about. I was too late to stop the attack against Arthur Weasely, or that old keeper at Riddle's Manor. He tricked me with the vision of Sirius. And now this. What's his game?" Fisting his hair, he tugged painfully, resuming his pacing. "Do you know when the last time was I slept? I mean really slept?" He waited for a response. Snape shook his head. "Years, Snape. The summer of my fourth year, if I'm correct. I'm so bloody tired."

Snape said nothing, watching the young man before him come apart. Before tonight, he might have reveled in this turn of events, the fall of the Golden Boy. And yet, seeing Harry's fear and panic brought him no pleasure. And the foreshadowing of his death only served to increase his pain. He winced with each tug and twist of Harry's self abuse of his dark locks. Finally, after several minutes of Harry trudging a path through his carpet, he stood. Walking up to the younger man, he placed his hands on his shoulders, halting Harry's progress.

"Stop."

Shocked, Harry did as he was told. Snape directed him back to his chair, and pushed gently on his shoulders.

"Sit."

Harry sank down, his head cradled in his trembling hands. Snape took the seat next to him.

"Tell me everything you saw," he requested, his voice soft and cautious. And so, Harry did, with a shaking voice. Not once did he raise his head to look at the Potions Master, and not once did he see the fear and then sadness cross the man's pale harsh face. When he was finished, he waited silently, his hands clasped in his lap to still their shaking.

Snape fell back in his seat, his eyes closed and his breath hitching in an uncharacteristic show of emotion. "So…" he swallowed. "So that's how it ends, is it?" He chuckled darkly. "Fitting in some ways, I suppose. After all, I am Slytherlin. To be killed by a snake…" he shook his head. Slowly, he composed himself, his mask again secure.

"There's something else you should know, another difference in this one as opposed to the others. In this one, instead of me staying out of the events, I was an active participant."

"What do you mean?" The mask slipped again, and curiosity could be seen flashing briefly in his eyes. Harry continued to look at his hands.

"In the others, I was the snake, or Voldemore. I saw through their eyes. In this one, I was me. And I was by your side after they left. Why do you think that was?" He finally raised his emerald eyes up to Snape's obsidian ones.

Snape shook his head, overwhelmed with the depth of emotions swimming in Harry's gaze. "I wish I knew."

Harry dropped his head again. "Me too. But if it was the future I saw, doesn't that mean we can stop it? Maybe you can make a potion to counteract the poison, Or just stay out of the Shrieking Shack altogether." A hopeful look crossed his face as he looked at Snape again. "Right?"

Snape shoved his hand through his hair, the stringy mess falling back into place immediately. "I don't know, Harry. I'm not sure how your visions work. Especially this one. It really is quite different. Even if I did all of that, the Dark Lord would find a way to kill me off. He's determined when he sets his mind to something, not unlike someone else I know." His smirk was rueful, almost friendly.

Harry nodded, his jaw set and stood quickly. "If that's the case, the I will have to be more determined to not let you die, than he is to kill you. Goodnight, Headmaster." He nodded once more, catching Snape off guard. Snape sat there dumbfounded as the younger man walked across the floor. When Harry's hand touched the handle of the door, he found his voice.

"Harry…"

Harry paused, realizing Snape had called him by his first name. Looking back over his shoulder, he said "Yeah?"

Snape seemed to war with himself for a moment. "Get some sleep will you?"

A small smile lit the beautiful features and Harry nodded. "You too. Nite." A second later, the door swung close, leaving a puzzled Headmaster to contemplate just what had happened, and what Harry would do now. He had wanted to tell the boy off, to rail at him for even thinking of saving the Potions Master. And yet, in the light of the dying fire, Severus Snape had to admit he didn't want to die. And if the Boy Wonder had his heart set on saving him, who was he to say no? Sighing deeply, he had to question just what he had gotten himself into now.

"I'm getting too old for this," he lamented, and then chuckled. "But by no means wiser. Oh, Harry… where will this lead us?"

Only the crackle of the flame and the ticking of the clock answered.