Harry gripped his shirt, bunching it up in a tight fist. Normally waking up in a cold sweat wouldn’t cause him to become a trembling mess, however, the nightmares Harry had seemed to get worse and worse after Cedric Diggory’s death.

The boy couldn’t stay in bed, the air around him was suffocating him, leaving him sweating, gasping for breath. Harry was pretty sure his heart was about to break out of his chest and run away from how hard it seemed to be pounding inside him. The teen squeezes his eyes shut, running his hands through his hair which seemed to stick to his cold hands, making it harder to comb through.

I need to get out of here, I need to get out of here, I need to get out of here, I’m not safe in this room, it’s too dark, too stuffy, I need out. Harry repeats the same thoughts with little variation as he rocks back and forth lightly to soothe himself. As much as Harry hated asking for help, he really couldn’t stand this panicky feeling anymore, because he felt this intense fear before, he felt this same fear when I witnessed death firsthand, unable to do anything about it, hearing Cedric, he sounded so-

Harry covered his ears and inhaled sharply, the mental image of the scene was like a fresh wound being sliced over again in the same position. Harry put his glasses on shakily, and dragged himself out of bed, nearly losing balance and falling over. Harry pretty much ran out of the room and down the stairs after that, as long as he was away from Gryffindor tower where he wouldn’t wake his mates. Of course, this didn’t help his heart rate whatsoever. He pretty much ran to the infirmary without being able to see where he was going with his vision blurring and spinning. For once, Harry was thankful for being subject to numerous quidditch injuries, otherwise, he wouldn’t have been able to get to the infirmary halfway blinded.

Once he arrived, he searched around frantically for Madame Pomfrey, who he soon saw walking towards him.

“My goodness dear! Take a seat on a bed, it’ll be alright.” The mediwitch gasps at the sight of the shaking boy. Harry felt as if his heart was going to explode, and he squeezed his eyes shut.

“I- Can you just give me some- something to calm this?” Harry gasps out between breaths. His words are quick and rushed.

“Unfortunately not. You already had a calming draught within the last 24 hours, giving you another may cause harm.” Madam Pomfrey gives the boy a look of sympathy as he wrings his hands out, shuddering.

It was getting worse, not better with the constant thoughts and mental images of Cedric, which made his heart clench. The mediwitch lightly puts an arm on Harry’s back, rubbing it softly. However, she quickly removes her hand at the sight of someone else at the doorway.

“Take a seat, it’s okay. I’ll get you both some water. You two should work on your breathing, in slowly, hold, out slowly.” the mediwitch says softly as she gets up to grab the two cups.

Harry bites his lip and sits so his knees are hugging his chest. When Madam Pomfrey walks towards the two again, she hands the other person in the room a cup, and then sits next to Harry, helping him drink. If the boy held the cup by himself, well, Poppy had no doubt that the water would end up flying in one direction or the other. Harry gulps down the water gratefully, gasping for air once he finishes.

“Poor kid…” Madame Pomfrey mumbles. She knew that getting his breathing under control would be hard for the boy since he was obviously somewhat new to panic attacks on such a level.

“I know I’m still a little shaken up, but may I sit next to Mister Potter?” the other man in the room asks. Madam Pomfrey nods and gets up to sit in a chair next to the bed instead of on it. “Harry, you need to breathe.” the man who Harry noticed was in all black says.

“No shit.” Harry trembles out. The older man sighs, he knew that taking points or telling him to mind his language might not end the best in this situation.

“Well, I ask that you try and exhale really fast as if the wind was being knocked out of you.” Snape suggests the boy in the calmest voice he can muster. The boy wheezes out an exhale, then follows it with a sharp inhale. “Good job, now try and drag the exhale out then force an inhale.” the man instructs.

Harry does this a few times before his breathing returns to a somewhat normal state. There are still a few shudders in his breathing, but for the most part, Harry seems okay. He looks at the person sitting next to him.

Snape shifts awkwardly. “You aren’t the only one with issues Potter.” the man says softly.

“Thank you for staying here. I know that you and I don’t exactly have a good history. It’s nice to know that you care at least a little.” Harry says, offering a small smile.

“You took a while to get everything under control. I take it you haven’t had many panic attacks?” The man states and Harry gives a small nod.

“I’ve always had some heightened anxiety, however, it rarely ever got to an uncontrollable point. Normally I’d be able to control the issue or distract myself, but when they happen at night, where it’s harder to distract yourself without waking others up. Plus, the dark pretty much gives an invitation for a reminder that there are deaths to my name.” Harry says barely above a whisper. Severus understands this all too well.

“I can’t say I have much hopeful news for you. You never truly grow out of the anxiety. It may get easier to manage, but it will be a while before you manage to get it under control, or at least to a point where you aren’t 2 breaths away from passing out.” Snape averts his eyes as he says this, hoping it wouldn’t crush the teen's spirits.

“Oh, yeah. I figured. They seem to be getting worse. I fail to understand the reasoning as to why I am telling you this, you already have enough on your plate.” the boy suddenly feels a little guilty for Severus trying to help him.

“It’s alright. I am able to calm myself efficiently as I am more familiar with these attacks. Normally they do get worse, but then they get easier, especially when you get one with a lower intensity than the previous one.” Snape reassures the boy, feeling the guilt radiating off of him.

“I’m so glad that you two are getting along, however, I still need to know why Harry has been suddenly getting such attacks. Is it due to recent events?” Madame Pomfrey interrupts the conversation between the two.

“Er, yeah. It’s been hard ever since the Triwizard…” Harry couldn’t bring himself to finish his sentence. Talking about the tournament was still very hard for the boy, considering it wasn’t all that long ago. Madame Pomfrey gives the boy a sad smile, she knew how hard death was on other students, Harry wasn’t the first one to end up in this position.

“Well, Potter, I think you should probably talk to someone about everything. It might do you good with healing after the event.” Severus suggests.

“That sounds like a good idea.” The boy shakes his head as if he’s considering it.”But… Who would I talk to? My options are kind of limited. Of course, Ron and Hermoine know a little about it, but they don’t know the full extent of what happened, and I’d prefer to keep it that way. I wouldn’t want to unload all the details on teenagers who don’t need that in their lives on top of their schooling.” he mumbles quickly.

“Well, seeing as I know more than you think about your struggles, I could offer my help.” Snape offers the boy, and his eyes light up.

“Really? You would do that for me? But don’t we hate each other?” Harry questions, clearly confused by the offer.

“I wouldn’t call it hatred, we never really got along, and I apologize for that, but as your professor, I will not stand around and watch you deteriorate before my eyes just like all the other adults seem keen on doing. It will not benefit anyone, not yourself, not me, not your friends, nobody. I know how you feel, I can’t say I haven’t been in your position before.” Snape’s voice gives a verbal shrug.

“O- Okay sir. I’ll try and talk to you about it, but maybe not for a while. It’s still hard to think about.” Harry fidgets with his hands while speaking.

“That’s quite alright. It may take some time to acknowledge fully what happened. It’s too much for you currently.” The Potions Professor states.

“Thank you, professor. If I may ask, who did you lose?” Harry questions. Snape bites the inside of his cheek, he should have expected this question!

“It’s none of your business. Maybe I’ll tell you another time.” Snape says lamely, and Harry shrugs. Then again, how was Severus supposed to tell this kid that the person he lost was none other than the boy’s mother? Harry might not react well to that. “Well, Harry, I think it would be in your best interest to go back to sleep. You have classes tomorrow, and I’m sure your teachers wouldn’t be too appreciative to you fall asleep midway through a lesson.” the man suggests.

Harry smiles. Snape had never called him by his first name before this night! The boy was shocked but happy. “Alright, sir. I’ll see you in class tomorrow?” the boy gets up from the bed and looks back to Severus, who gives a short nod. Harry continues on his way back to Gryffindor Tower.

“You know Severus, maybe if you acted like this towards the boy all the time he might feel comfortable around you.” The mediwitch points out. Severus groans.

“Not now Poppy, this is all too much realization in one night. My brain would rather not think that a 14-year-old was traumatized by a student's death and that my unkind words have possibly been weighing against him.” the man sighs, putting his head in his hands briefly before straightening his posture and getting up.

“You should go back to bed now Severus. If not you may just take your crankiness on some poor student, and then I’ll have even more calming draughts to brew. Can you imagine how many times Longbottom came in here pale-faced and stuttering because his cauldron blew over? And how many times you had frustratedly yelled at him because of it? He deserves a little lecture, but my, you went overboard a few times.” Poppy critiques the man lightly, in a half playful way. Severus nods, mouths a small thank you to the Mediwitch, and leaves. The witch wasn’t bothered by the fact that Severus didn’t thank her with a true verbal thanks, she knew Severus had issues with saying thanks and expressing gratitude.

Poppy sighed a breath of relief. It was an eventful night. At least Harry had come to the Hospital Wing, the Mediwitch had to threaten him to come there if he was feeling anything unordinary or a rise in emotions and such with the idea that if he didn’t, she would sit him down for a three-hour lecture on personal wellbeing and the importance of taking care of oneself.

As for Severus, he had been plagued with C-PTSD since his teenage years, a life filled with abuse, the death of his best friend (and crush), and living the life of a death eater prooves to be mentally taxing, even if Severus manages to hide the evidence well he still manages to break whenever he is left alone for too long.

However, tonight proved that the two could help each other, despite their past differences. Even if they weren’t ready to do so now, they could in the future, and that brought Poppy loads of hope for both of them. Maybe everything would turn out okay for the two, despite the current ongoing issues.They could both learn how to live again, this time, perhaps together? Poppy smiled at the thought.