“Can you please brew some more Dreamless Sleep potions?” Pomfrey asked.

Snape frowned. “I thought I already gave you enough to last a month,” he replied.

The old matron sighed. “It should be, Severus, but I run out of it now.” She sat on one of the desks in the Potions Lab.

“Nonsense, Poppy.” Snape stared at the grey haired woman as if she was joking.

Pomfrey stared back. She firmly stated that she was serious.

“Midterm exams are still two months from now. Even the most air headed students won’t feel that nervous,” Snape snorted. He turned off the flame on a cauldron and let it cool.

“No, it’s not the students,” the old witch said.

“Then who?”

“It’s Harry. He nearly comes everyday to the infirmary, asking for the potions,” Pomfrey kindly explained. “I became worried about him,” she added softly.

Snape couldn’t understand it. It’d been years since The Final Battle. The Dark Lord was gone and Wizarding World was peaceful. He thought that the young Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher should have nothing to worry about, no need to seek comfort in Dreamless Sleep. “Dreamless Sleep shouldn’t be consumed every day,” he said. “Excessive consumption of it could damage his body. And his minds too. I don’t think society would accept it if their Savior goes mental,” he grunted.

“I think Harry has his own problems,” Pomfrey wisely commented. “He should talk to someone about it.”

“True. Dreamless isn’t a way out. It’s not a solution.”

Snape reluctantly contemplated how he had been right after The Final Battle. The Potions Master had needed Calming Draught and Dreamless Sleep almost every other day. It had been very bad that he resorted to consume those potions, to fight off the nightmares about things he had done when he was a foolish and stupid man.

Snape brewed the potions Pomfrey had asked, but she wouldn’t give it again to Harry. Not until she saw it fit.

The Head House of Slytherin noticed that Harry was pale and gaunt. The emerald eyes --so much like Lily’s- - were in deep reverie nearly every time Snape saw him. Snape instantly knew that the 23 year old professor was profoundly troubled.

Harry didn’t ask for Dreamless again to Pomfrey. He realized that the matron wouldn’t give it to him. But Snape knew that Harry still consumed it, judging from his worse state.

One evening after the school hours ended, Snape confronted him in the Defense classroom. The Hero was startled.

“Can I help you?” Harry asked tiredly.

Snape shook his head. “I think it’s you who need help,” he retorted.

Harry rubbed his temple. “I don’t need any,” he rejected.

Snape crossed the room and stood tall before the sitting young man. “The man who consumes Dreamless Potions in unhealthy dose indeed needs help,” he calmly spoke.

Harry stiffened. “I stop having it.”

Snape glared. He was a little bit satisfied when Harry flinched. Even though they were not student and teacher again, Snape still had terrifying effects on his former student. “What do you take me for, Mr. Potter?” he snapped, irritated. “I know all of the effects of every potion. You stop pestering Poppy but still have access to get it from outside Hogwarts.”

Harry looked up, his face went white.

“The man in the Apothecary in Hogsmeade told me that you order the potions. You owl him every three days. We all know you wouldn’t brew it yourself, with your horrible skill in brewing potions.”

“That’s not your business,” the young man hissed murderously.

“No, it’s not,” Snape agreed, angering Harry even more. “But I don’t want to be accused of murdering The Boy Hero by using the seemingly harmless potions. Knowing how the people worship the ground you walk on, I wouldn’t be surprised if I’d be targeted and accused, even though I’m not the one who sends you to grave.”

“They won’t.”

“I’m the Potions Master. Who else is the Potions Maker if it’s not me?”

Both of them were silent, with Harry looked defeated.

“I’m afraid to break my engagement to Ginny,” Harry told him. He looked way older.

“Afraid of breaking her heart or receiving her family’s wrath?” Snape offered.

Harry flinched. “I’m afraid of losing a family.”

Snape understood. The only real family Harry had so far had was the Weasleys. “I don’t see why you would want to do it. You two are the Golden Couple after all.”

“I’ve realized something,” Harry said. “I love her, as a sister. Not romantically. I don’t know how to break it gently. I don’t want to lose the family ties I’ve had with the Weasleys.”

Snape sighed. “I can’t help you. I hate to admit it, but maybe Lupin can give better advice than me.”

“I didn’t consider it before,” Harry whispered, eyes wide. The werewolf was one of the wisest and most collected people he knew. Perhaps Lupin could give his best opinion about this.

“And please stop consuming Dreamless Sleep,” Snape advised. “You really wouldn’t want to know what would happen if you’re addicted to it.”

Harry shot a small smile. “Thanks, Professor, for your concern”

“I’m not concerned about you, Potter!” the older man denied.