Dead and Alive (Drarry)

Chapter Fourteen

"So this time I followed you, although that was before I realized you were sleepwalking. You lead me here, and then you just stood there, staring off into nothing. I was just about to wake you before you startled screaming."

Harry rubbed a hand over his eyes, peeking through his fingers to look up at his friend. 

Ron looked stressed, with small bags under his eyes, and a small frown plastered on his face. A bruise was just beginning to sprout just below his right eye, already an ugly yellow color.

"I'm sorry," he apologised.

Ron let out a large sigh, "It's alright, let's just head back to our dorm."

He lent Harry his hand, which he graciously took and got to his feet. Then together, the two of them headed back to the common room in complete silence.

The next day, Harry decided to finally tell someone about his strange night terrors. He found Hermione sitting alone in the library after lunch, and sat down beside her.

"Hey," she said, giving him a friendly smile.

"Hi," he replied, placing his hands in his lap and staring at his very interesting shoes.

"Harry, what's wrong?"

There was a long moment of silence, before he finally spoke again, "I've been having nightmares recently."

He looked up from his feet to she her staring at him expectantly.

"Well I wouldn't call them normal nightmares. I dream about a certain place, and then when I wake up, I'm suddenly in the place where I was in the dream."

"Like some sort of sleepwalking?" she finished for him.

Harry nodded his head in agreement.

A look of confusion passed over her face as she pondered over that information.

He didn't have any dark nightmares within his mind when she had first saw into his mind, she thought. In fact, she assumed they only started once he arrived at the school, which meant that Hogwarts was what triggered them. But why?

Then it clicked. 

"Harry, what were the nightmares about?" she asked him.

He thought about it for a moment, "Well first is was a mirror that showed my parents, then a forest, the lake, the fire, and now in the girls bathroom."

"Harry," Hermione started, a look of worry upon her face, "those weren't just scary night terrors, they were your memories."

Harry blinked in confusion. Memories?

If what Hermione said was true, then that meant all his dreams were also true, which terrified him greatly.

Did I hurt Draco, he wondered, and overwhelming feeling of guilt crashed over him. Even if he didn't he still wanted to make sure, and apologize to him. It was the least he could do.

After dinner that night, Harry confronted Draco outside of the great hall, once everyone had left.

"Uh, did you need something?" the other boy asked, shifting awkwardly from one foot to the other.

Harry didn't know what to say, couldn't quite form it into words, but he tried to anyways.

"I hurt you," he mumbled, while staring at his own shoes.

"What do you mean?"

Harry slowly lifted his right hand, placing it over Draco's clothed chest, while staring intensely at him with those piercing green eyes, "Here."

Draco stared down at his own chest where Potter's hand lay over his scar.

All of a sudden, the memory of that night flashed past his eyes. The unbearable pain crashed over his chest, causing him to let out a quiet yelp.

"Draco? Are you okay?"

He might have forgotten for a while, but one thing was sure. He hated Harry Potter.

"Shut up!" he yelled, shoving the other boy away from him. 

"Dra-"

"I said shut up! Leave me alone, I hate you!"

Potter seemed to stumble back, almost as if he was hurt by what Draco had said. 

"And stop looking at me like that! You're not even human, you don't have feelings!"

Tears ran down Potters face, but he made no move to wipe them away.

"W-why are you doing this to me?" he whispered softly.

Draco glared down at him.

"I liked it better when you couldn't speak."

With that, he turned away, walking in the opposite direction. Only when he had disappeared from view, did Harry finally let himself cry, letting out a sad and mournful sob.