Summary : “It’s scary, Dad! The zombies chased me, the vampires wanted to bite me, the giant Basilisk asked me to hatch her eggs,” Harry stammered. He agreed to return the last vial of Dreamless Sleep Potions after he had bargained with Snape. The young father should accompany Harry while the boy was watching movies. When Harry got nightmares, Snape should be willing to be woken up and wouldn’t sleep until Harry was asleep. A response to Dreamless Sleep Addiction challenge by Jan_AQ in Potions and Snitches and for Snape Day 2014 in Infantrum.

Disclaimer : Harry Potter isn’t mine. It belongs to JK Rowling.

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Snape could never think of being away from potions, or brewing, even for a day. When he wasn’t brewing potions, the black haired man read potions journals. He knew people called him potions obsessed, but why should he care? When they needed medicine to cure their flu, to heal their cuts or wounds, who did they go to? Him! Well, it’s not like Snape complained. Even when he did, people still pestered him for potions. But in return, Snape got many things from them: fruit, chocolate, food, fabric.

That summer holiday, he decided to spend the first few weeks in Spinner’s End. Harry was okay with them not going anywhere. The fourteen year old boy told his adoptive father that he’d like to get to know his new laptop, so staying at home was also his best option.

That night Snape was arranging the vials in the cabinet when a shriek came from the sitting room. He hastily ran as fast as his long legs could, afraid that something happened to Harry. He stopped short when he saw his son was safe and sound, although at that time Harry was covering his face with his hands, his posture was stiff. He looked like he wanted to get away from something.

“What happened?” Snape asked.

Harry looked up. “Dad?”

Snape immediately checked for injury or curse on Harry.

“It’s scary,” Harry whispered.

“What’s scary?”

A finger pointed at a film playing on the laptop.

Snape was annoyed. “You shrieked because of a horror movie?”

“I didn’t shriek! Sheesh, Dad, only girls do.” After assuring his father that he was more than fine, Harry went back to watch the movie.

So every day Harry and Snape did their own routine. Snape brewed potions and Harry did his homework. The green eyed boy felt the pressure of being the son of one of Hogwarts teachers. People expected him to get good grades and smart. He wanted to live up to those expectations and make his father proud of him.

At night, both of them took a break: Snape read and Harry watched some movies. Sometimes the father admonished Harry because of his fascination in horror movies. The-not-manly-scream and Harry’s nightmares nearly gave Snape heart attack every day. The threat to incendio the laptop tamed the shriek and the nightmares stopped.

However, while counting the vials which would be delivered to Molly Weasley, Snape noticed that the ten vials of Dreamless Sleep potions were empty. They had been full before. The Potions Master frowned. It’s impossible if there were animals or trespassers barged into his house and only consumed that kind of potions.

The thirty six year old man rechecked his wards but found nothing. It’s still perfectly intact. He went out to check the gate, the garden, the lamps and everything he could think of. He began to get worried until he saw Harry calmly opened his laptop, with a small vial next to a cushion.

Snape gasped.

Harry turned his head when he heard the sharp intake of breath. “What’s wrong, Dad?”

And Snape’s head was flooded with realization.

…Harry’s new hobby of watching horror movies, the boy’s constant nightmares almost every night...

It had stopped since days ago.

Snape slowly approached Harry, who squirmed uneasily. He sensed confusion and anger coming from his father.

“Have you been consuming Dreamless Sleep for ten days in a row?” Snape queried.

“Yes,” Harry answered, suddenly scared.

Snape eyed him sharply. Snape’s eyes were famous for their look which could make youngsters want to pee their pants. “Why?” he demanded answers even though he already knew why.

Harry toyed with the sleeve of his T-shirt. “I kept having nightmares,” he answered truthfully.

“After watching movies?”

“Yes.”

“Harry!”

“It’s scary, Dad! The zombies chased me, the vampires wanted to bite me, the giant Basilisk asked me to hatch her eggs,” Harry stammered.

It was getting more ridiculous. Snape almost snorted. There were no giant Basilisks, they’re already gigantic.

He kept listening to Harry’s incredulous stories.

“But Dreamless Sleep isn’t a solution,” Snape sternly warned.

“I know,” Harry replied weakly.

“Stop watching the trash, then.”

Harry looked at him, scared at the idea than the possibilities of having nightmares again. “But- -but…”

That night Snape lectured him about the danger of being addicted to the potions. If Harry was asked to recite what his father had told him, he was sure he could write the ingredients of Dreamless Sleep Potions, where to get them, how to brew it, when to give it and when to stop having it. In a two-meter-long parchment, in handwriting as big as Hermione’s.

Harry agreed to return the last vial of the potions after he had bargained with Snape. The young father should accompany Harry while the boy was watching movies. When Harry got nightmares, Snape should be willing to be woken up and wouldn’t sleep until Harry was asleep.

Snape groaned when that night Harry shook him, waking him from his peaceful slumber. Again, in five nights in a row.

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