“Harry!”

Harry was dozing on the sofa when he heard the scream. He jolted upright, his adrenaline skyrocketing, his wand in his hand. Sweat broke out on his skin as he glanced around frantically. He knew without a doubt that they had found him. They had come for him, just as they said they would.

“Harry! No!”

Harry’s attention snapped to Snape, who had slid down in his chair. His fists were clenched, his face contorted in agony. It took Harry a moment to realize that Snape was caught in a nightmare. Still Harry looked around, assuring himself that their safe house hadn’t been breached.

Trying to fight back the panic that coursed through his veins, Harry made his way to Snape.

“Oh, Merlin. Harry!”

“Professor,” Harry called softly.

“Please, no, Harry. Please!”

 “Professor!” Harry said more loudly, shaking the man’s shoulder.

Snape jerked awake, his eyes wide and wild. He looked as panicked as Harry felt.

“Sir?” Harry asked.

Snape’s Adam’s apple bobbed repeatedly as he looked Harry up and down, his face pale and pinched.

Instinctively, Harry reached out to touch the tears that coated Snape’s face. He’d never seen the man cry, wouldn’t have thought it possible.

Snape grabbed Harry’s hand and yanked it against his chest, grasping it with both of his. “Harry,” he breathed. “Oh, Harry.” Then Snape closed his eyes and turned his head away, breathing hard.

Stunned, and standing half-bent over, what with his hand held against Snape’s chest, Harry sat on the arm of Snape’s chair.

“Sir? Are you all right?”

Harry watched as Snape’s chest rose and fell several times before the man let go of Harry’s hand.

“My apologies,” Snape said. “Please excuse me.”

Harry watched as Snape got to his feet and left the room. He heard the door to the WC close and water running from the tap.

Feeling disconcerted, Harry sat back on the sofa. Then he thought better of it and went to the kitchen.

When Snape returned to the sitting room, his face was free of tears and he looked much more like himself.

“I made some tea,” Harry offered.

Snape nodded and accepted a cup.

Harry let the silence hang between them until he couldn’t stand it any longer.

“Sir, I understand if you don’t want to talk about it, but… you were calling my name and saying no and you sounded quite upset...”

Snape took a deep breath and Harry could tell that Snape really didn’t want to talk about it. Harry had decided to let it go, when Snape’s deep voice broke the silence.

“I dreamed about that night,” Snape said. Then he swallowed, hard, cleared his throat, clenched his eyes shut. “I couldn’t save you.” A deep, ragged breath. “You… died.”

Oh. Harry felt his own breath catch. If Snape hadn’t been there that night, he likely would have died. He quickly pushed that thought away and tried to think of an appropriate response. “Well, you did save me. And I am very grateful for that, Professor,” Harry said, hoping it would be enough.

Snape nodded, looking vaguely uncomfortable. His fingers played around the edge of the teacup. “I apologize if I frightened you.”

“It’s fine,” Harry said. “Nightmares are one thing I understand. Are you sure you’re all right, sir?”

“Yes,” Snape said. “Perhaps we should see about lunch.”

Snape felt rattled. He was not unfamiliar with nightmares, but he couldn’t remember the last time he’d awoken with tears on his face. He had felt slightly mortified but comforted himself with the knowledge that his uncharacteristic display would likely help Harry feel better about his own out-of-control emotions.

“I think you are ready for something more substantial. How about scrambled eggs?”

“Sure,” Harry said.

Snape prepared them with ease and efficiency. Even so, he found himself stealing covert glances at the teen, just to reassure himself that the boy still breathed. The sight of those dead, staring eyes, and the feelings of impotence and failure, would haunt him for many nights to come, he knew. If he hadn’t felt protective about Harry before, he certainly did now.

Sighing, he plated the eggs and sat down to a late lunch with the teen, wondering how on earth they were going to get through this mess that had become their lives.

“One vial of Dreamless Sleep,” Snape said, handing it to Harry while still holding one for himself.

“Sir?” Harry asked. The boy was sitting on his camp bed and looking rather miserable.

“What is it?” Snape inquired.

“If we both take Dreamless Sleep, what if…” Harry swallowed hard and looked away.

“What if what?” Snape prompted.

“Well, it’s just that, if we are both drugged, we may not awaken if they… if they find me… find us,” Harry said, his lip between his teeth and worry lines creasing his brow as he wrung his hands.

“Harry,” Snape began.

“I know you don’t believe me, sir,” Harry said. “But they will come for us.” Bowing his head, he said, “I know they will.”

Snape opened his mouth to speak, and then closed it again. There was nothing he could say, no assurance he could give the boy, that would convince Harry that they were safe. If he wanted to get some sleep tonight, and in the future, he’d need to come up with something more than empty words.

He’d been contemplating an idea for the last couple of days, one that had potential as well as risk. More than the risk, he worried about it failing altogether. He couldn’t be sure it would work and, if it didn’t, he didn’t want to upset Harry more. But as sleep was dogging his every step, he let his reservations slip away in favor of giving it a try.  

“I have an idea,” Snape said. “I am not sure if it will work, but it might be worth a try.”

“What is it?” Harry asked, a shadow of hope flitting across his gaze.

“I want you to try calling that house-elf that is so fond of you.”

“Dobby?” Harry asked. At Snape’s nod, Harry said in a commanding, if a bit shaky, voice, “Dobby.”

A moment later, a loud pop heralded the arrival of the oddly dressed house-elf.

“Harry Potter, sir! Dobby is happy you is calling me, sir! We house-elves has been so worried about you, sir.”

The elf’s many hats bobbled precariously on his head as Dobby babbled happily.

And Harry was smiling. One of the very few real smiles Snape had seen cross the boy’s face since that night. It was worth it having called the elf for that reason alone.

Dobby spun to see Snape. “Professor Snape, sir! Dobby is happy to see you too, sir! Dobby is knowing that Professor Snape is taking care of Harry Potter, sir. Professor Snape is a good and kind wizard.”

“Do you know where you are, Dobby?” Snape inquired.

“Dobby is in Professor Dumbledore’s safe house, sir. Dobby is here because Harry Potter called him, sir.”

“Yes, that is correct,” Snape replied. “You are aware, then, that you can tell no one of our location or of your visit here? This is essential for Mr. Potter’s safety.”

“Yes, Professor Snape, sir. Dobby will not speak of it to anyone. Dobby will not put Harry Potter or Professor Snape in danger, sir. Dobby is a good and loyal house-elf. Dobby can be trusted. Dobby wishes only to be of service to Harry Potter and Professor Snape, sir.”

“Very well. I asked Mr. Potter to call you here because we require some assistance. We are both in need of a good night’s sleep and it would put Mr. Potter’s mind at ease to have someone here while we sleep.”

Harry, who had been observing the proceedings, spoke up then.

“I am worried that the Death Eaters who captured me will find me,” Harry said. “I can’t sleep for worrying,” he admitted.

Dobby turned his orb-like eyes to the teen. Gravely, he said, “Dobby would be most honored to guard Harry Potter and Professor Snape while they sleep.”

“Thanks, Dobby, I really appreciate it,” Harry said, yawning widely and stretching. He glanced to Snape and nodded. Holding up his vial of Dreamless Sleep, Harry said, “Cheers, Professor.” Then he popped the top and drank.

Snape got into his own bed and listened as Dobby spoke softly to Harry.

“Harry Potter is safe here, sir. Harry Potter is in Professor Dumbledore’s safe house. No one will be able to find Harry Potter here. Harry Potter is in the safest house in the world. Harry Potter can sleep. Dobby will watch over him. Dobby and Professor Snape will keep Harry Potter safe.”

Snape let out a relieved sigh, content in his decision to call the elf. He watched the boy and elf until Harry had fallen asleep. Then Dobby made his way to Snape’s bed.

“You is needing sleep as well, Professor.”

Snape nodded and swallowed his own vial of Dreamless Sleep, settling back into the pillows. Before he nodded off, he met the elf’s gaze. “Thank you, Dobby.”

Dobby’s beaming face was the last thing Snape saw before he slipped into sleep.