Harry woke in a cold sweat, disoriented and terrified. He clamped a hand over his mouth, knowing that it would be bad to wake his relatives, and hoping he hadn't cried out in his sleep. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia didn't like when he disturbed their sleep with nightmares, or anything else for that matter.

The light knock on the door startled him, and Harry nearly jumped a foot when the door opened a few inches and a shadowy figure entered the room. It reminded him of the figure in his dream, except it was far less serpentine, and there was nothing sinister about the shadow.

Harry didn’t even register the lack of locks on his bedroom door, how quickly the figure, shrouded in the darkness of his room, had entered. He didn’t notice the lack of coils from a worn mattress poking him in the back, or the smooth feel of the sheets between his fingers as he worried at them.

Harry held his breath, and dug his fingers into the surprisingly soft blankets as the figure approached. It didn't look like Aunt Petunia, or Uncle Vernon, or the wraith-like shape that had haunted his dream about a place called Hawaii and gentle breezes that smelled like some kind of flower Harry had never encountered before, twisting it into a nightmare.

"S-s-sorry," Harry stuttered, hating how weak and scared he sounded. "D-d-didn't mean to wake you."

"Ouch, damn it," the figure hissed and hopped around on one foot. "Shit, fu-uudge."

The now hobbling figure clamped a hand over its mouth, and moved toward Harry’s bed. Harry held his breath, and then frowned in confusion, and squinted in the darkness. He sighed in immense relief when his mind finally caught up with what it was that he was witnessing.

Danny. It was Danny, his cousin Steve's husband, and not Uncle Vernon or Aunt Petunia. He was in Hawaii, not in his claustrophobic bedroom at Privet Drive. None of the part before the nightmare had been a dream.

Danny crash landed on the bed beside Harry with a loud, "Oomph," scowling as he rubbed at his bare foot.

"What's wrong?" Steve stood in the doorway, his shadow blocking out the light that spilled into the room from the now lit hallway. He had something in his hand that Harry, without his glasses, and in the dimness of the room, couldn't quite see.

"Put your gun away, Steven," Danny whispered, and he waved a hand at Steve. "You don't need to carry a gun to a nightmare."

"Depends on the nightmare," Steve said, shrugging; Harry quite agreed. His cousin tucked the gun away in a pocket of his pajama bottoms as he entered the room, letting light spill in and giving Harry a better view of his new guardians.

Both men looked exhausted, and Harry felt foolish for having woken them with a silly nightmare. He just hoped that Snape hadn't somehow been alerted. That's all that Harry needed right now, for Snape to walk in on all of them, dressed in some kind of nightgown or dressing robe.

Thanks, but no thanks, Harry thought, and he shuddered at the thought, even as hysterical laughter threatened to bubble forth. He'd already had one nightmare, no need to invite another.

"You alright, Harry?" Danny asked, misinterpreting the shudder and placing a hand on Harry's shoulder.

Steve sat beside Danny, and looked as out of place as Harry felt. He'd never had this happen before. Nightmares at the Dursleys were not joint affairs for his aunt and uncle. They took turns scolding Harry after he'd had a nightmare, and threatening him with bodily harm if he woke them again. Sometimes the bodily harm was more action than threat.

Harry swallowed the sudden lump that had formed in his throat and nodded. He did not need another outburst of tears like he'd had when Steve and Danny had picked him up from the airport two days ago. He didn't want his cousin, or the man’s husband, thinking that he was a baby.

"I'm fine," Harry said, wishing that his voice had been a little stronger. "Just a nightmare."

"Want to tell us what it was about?" Danny asked, squeezing Harry's shoulder.

Harry shrugged. He wasn't sure how to put his nightmare into words. It had been terrifying, but, now that he was more alert, and with Steve and Danny in the room with him, and light spilling in from the hallway, the details of the nightmare were fading, and it all seemed so silly.

"I...m not sure," he said. "I'll try not to wake you again." Harry tried to lie back down, but Danny pulled him into a quick hug that made Harry’s heart skip a beat.

Danny sighed and shook his head. He looked at the ceiling, lips moving silently, and then looked at Harry. "Harry, you don't have to worry about waking us when you have a nightmare. It's okay. It's not like you can control these kinds of things."

"Well, actually..." Steve started to speak, but Danny sliced a hand through the air and gave Steve a look that could have frozen fire, and did freeze Steve's words. Steve blinked at Danny and his mouth snapped shut.

Harry stifled a mad giggle, masking it as a cough. Danny frowned in concern, and Steve narrowed his eyes at his cousin.

"We are not going to teach your cousin some super SEAL strategy for suppressing nightmares or feelings, or whatever it is that you and your Army buddies do, Steven," Danny said, words coming at a rapid clip. He illustrated his words with his hands, and Harry found that rather fascinating. Harry yawned and blinked as he watched the man talk.

"Nightmares are a normal part of childhood. NORMAL. N-O-R-M-A-L. You got that?" Danny emphasized the last three words with finger jabs to Steve's chest.

Steve nodded, but added, with what Harry thought looked like, but he  couldn't be sure, was a pout, "Navy, not Army, Danno."

Danny rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to Harry, his eyes softening a little. "Harry, it's okay to wake us up if you have a nightmare, or for ANY reason. That's what we're here for, okay?"

Harry nodded, but couldn't think of any reason that he'd need to wake the two up, on purpose, in the middle of the night. Living with Steve and Danny was like night and day from living with the Dursleys; it was a lot for Harry to get used to, and he’d only been with them for two days.

Danny elbowed Steve, who glared at him and rubbed at his stomach. Danny raised his eyebrows and looked pointedly at Steve, who frowned and then seemed to catch on to whatever it was that Danny was trying to silently communicate to him.

"Yeah," Steve said, clearing his throat, and rubbing a hand over his disheveled hair. "You don't have to be afraid of waking us up in the middle of the night, or anytime. Or, that is, you..."

"What your big lug of a cousin is trying to tell you is that you can come talk to us at any time," Danny said. "Day or night."

"As long as we're not in the middle of a --"

"Day or night," Danny cut in, glaring at Steve and elbowing him again.

Steve narrowed his eyes at Danny, and rubbed his stomach, but nodded. "Day or night," he echoed, eyes growing soft when he looked at Harry, which was unusual. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia's eyes always seemed to harden when looking at him.

"We'll get you your own cell phone, program our numbers in," Danny added.

It was all a little much for Harry, who'd never even been allowed to use the phone at the Dursleys, let alone have his own cell phone. He nodded, dumbly and absentmindedly rubbed at his eyes.

“You need a glass of water?” Steve asked, abruptly changing the topic. Harry was grateful.

Danny gave Steve a look and Harry shook his head.

“No, thanks. I’ll be fine,” he said, hoping that he wasn’t lying, that the nightmare wouldn’t return.

“Babe, would you make some chamomile tea? Add a dash of warm milk and honey,” Danny said. He was smiling, but Harry sensed that there was something, other than trying to help Harry through his nightmare, and get him back to sleeping soundly, behind Danny’s request.

His stomach tied itself up in knots when Steve nodded, and after, patting Harry on the head, left. Harry played with a loose thread. He refused to meet Danny’s eyes until the man cleared his throat.

Instead of anger, Harry saw understanding and kindness on Danny’s face, and in his eyes. Harry let out the breath he’d been holding.

“I know that you’re not thirsty, but it’ll give Steve something to do, and that will make him feel useful. He hates when there’s nothing he can do to fix something. Besides, it’s an old Williams’ recipe, guaranteed to rid someone of the peskiest of nightmares,” Danny said, smiling. He patted Harry on the knee, and eyed him seriously.

“I’ll be here when you want to talk about your nightmare. Or, if you’d rather talk to Steve about it, or your...teacher...”

Harry snorted, and blushed at Danny’s raised eyebrow. He looked down at the comforter -- it was light blue, and the softest bedding he’d ever had -- and his breath hitched.

“It...” Harry struggled to find the words. “That is...it started out good, I was dreaming about Hawaii and about meeting you and Cousin Steve, but then it got all dark and twisty, and...” Harry shuddered. “And I felt like the life was being squeezed out of me, and I couldn’t move or breathe, but it wasn’t me, it was someone else, and I could hear screaming and crying, and then, and then I woke up.”

Harry didn’t mention the snake that he’d seen in the dream, how he could understand what it was saying, Strike, squeeze, kill. How it felt like, at one point during the dream, he’d actually been the snake.

No need for Danny and Steve to think he was crazy, at least not at the beginning of his stay. Harry did not want to be shipped back to the Dursleys, and there was no doubt in his mind that, if they caught wind of the fact that he might, maybe, be crazy, as the Dursleys had constantly claimed that he was, Steve and Danny would send him back to their care posthaste. At least, that’s what the Dursleys would have done in their stead. What any sane person would do.

Danny nodded and pulled Harry in for another hug, which Harry tried not to get used to. He tried to keep still, not to wrap his arms around Danny, but it was like something inside of his brain had switched off, and he no longer had control over his limbs. That part of him, whatever part it was, hugged Danny back, hard, and didn’t let go until he felt the bed dip, announcing the arrival of his cousin.

“Here, I don’t know if it’s as good as Danny would make it, but it’s what he makes for me when I...when,” Steve cleared his throat, “that is when...”

Danny shook his head. “What your cousin is so eloquently trying to say, is that he has nightmares, too.”

Steve’s eyes widened and the look of shock, horror, and denial on his face made Harry laugh, in spite of himself.

“I’m sorry,” Harry said around a hiccup, sobering considerably as he thought about the possible consequences of laughing at his cousin. A man that he barely knew.

“What Steve needs to remember,” Danny said, placing special emphasis on the man’s name, and leaning close to Harry, looking him in the eye, “is that we’re all human, and that nightmares aren’t anything to be ashamed of, we all have them. All of us.”

“Even you?” Harry asked in a whisper, the words coming from his mouth without him really meaning for them to, that secret part of his brain acting independently of the rest of him once again.

Danny nodded. “Yes, even me, even Super SEAL, here.” Danny thumped Steve on the chest, and Steve rubbed at the spot.

“This will help,” Steve said, handing the mug of doctored tea to Harry. “It’s...helped me,” Steve added, as though the words cost him.

Danny smiled and winked at Harry who took a tentative sip of the tea. It was warm and soothing and didn’t taste too bad. He knew that Neville would probably be able to tell him all about the plant used in the making of it, and if he asked Snape about it, not that he would, the wizard would, after making it clear that this is something Harry should already know, tell him all of the benefits of chamomile.

Harry smiled. “Thanks, this is really good.”

“You should have Danny make it for you sometime,” Steve said, blushing slightly and looking uncomfortable with Harry’s praise. “He’s the master of it.”

“It’s hard to mess up tea, Steven,” Danny said, rolling his eyes. There was no heat in his words, and Harry relaxed back against his pillows as he sipped at his tea.

“You feeling a little better, Harry?” Danny asked.

Sleepy, the terror of his dream gone, Harry nodded. The tea, or maybe it was just having Steve and Danny sitting there, on his bed, not threatening him, or demanding that he stop having nightmares, had helped him immensely, and Harry felt his eyelids drooping.

Steve patted him on the knee, his other hand reaching for Danny’s, and they sat there with Harry until the tea was gone, and he was settled underneath the covers, which Danny had tucked up around him, making him feel safe and snug. Harry didn’t recall being tucked into bed, though he’d heard it talked about, and had read about it in books. It was a rather nice, cozy feeling that Harry was a little afraid to get used to, but one that he wanted never to forget

Danny bent over and kissed Harry on the forehead, and a memory, a good one, popped into his mind, and he smiled. His mother and father had done this when he’d been little, too little to properly remember it, but it was there as a vague, fleeting memory that warmed his heart, and made him ache for more.

Steve, perhaps a little reluctantly, and awkwardly, repeated his husband’s gesture, his lips warm on Harry’s forehead, and then he straightened, and, as though his hands, too, were moving in and of themselves, as Harry’s had earlier, he ruffled Harry’s hair. Harry smiled and closed his eyes, relishing this moment, because he knew that it might not last, that this summer would go by all too quickly, and he’d be back at Hogwarts, no doubt facing new dangers as he had every single year he’d attended the school of witchcraft and wizardry.

He loved Hogwarts, and up until just now, had considered it his true home. Maybe this, what he had with Steve and Danny, could be his real home, and Hogwarts could be his home away from home. It was a novel thought, and Harry fell asleep, dreaming of broomsticks and tea, and two fathers who tucked him in after a nightmare.