Sleepless
Monday - August, 2nd - Colin's Quarters at Hogwarts - 3AM
"COLIN!"
The scream echoed and Colin turned around to see the green light dissipating, his ears registering the sound of the body falling, having only enough time to recognize Dennis' clothes before someone grabbed his arm and dragged him away.
And then he was running and running, blind in the darkness and the rain, and there were footsteps behind him, getting closer, and he had to keep running, and running, and he couldn't stop, but he had to because suddenly there was a mask in front of him and the green light-
And he woke up with a start, sitting up in bed, gasping and breathing heavily, clothes drenched in cold sweat, heart beating fast and painfully in his chest. He looked around wildly and it took him a while to recognize his surroundings. He was in his room, in his bed. Hogwarts. He was safe. No Death Eaters. No Killing Curse.
He buried his face in his shaky hands, focusing on bringing his breathing back to normal, on stopping his body from shaking, on stopping the frantic thoughts racing in his mind.
He ran his hands through his hair and looked around again, this time seeing the open letter from Sirius sitting on his bedside table, his journal beside it. He stared at it, hands itching to get it and write to Neville and Sirius, to make sure they were well and safe, mind desperate for any kind of comforting.
Then he caught sight of the time. 3:14AM. They were surely asleep. And there was no point, and no need, in worrying them because of a stupid nightmare.
He took a deep breath and got up from the bed, taking his journal, the letter and his wand and walking unsteadily to the Floo. He stepped in and gave the address, stumbling a little when he stepped out into their room in the Home.
He walked to the bed, placing his things on the bedside table, slipping under the covers, placing his head on a pillow and hugging another, hoping that being there was enough to drive away the irksome feeling those nightmares all left behind, like sticky grime all over his skin.
Slowly he felt himself relax, the shivers stopping, their familiar scent surrounding him, and, if he closed his eyes tightly, he could almost pretend that they were there.
"COLIN!"
The scream echoed and Colin turned around to see the green light dissipating, his ears registering the sound of the body falling, having only enough time to recognize Dennis' clothes before someone grabbed his arm and dragged him away.
And then he was running and running, blind in the darkness and the rain, and there were footsteps behind him, getting closer, and he had to keep running, and running, and he couldn't stop, but he had to because suddenly there was a mask in front of him and the green light-
And he woke up with a start, sitting up in bed, gasping and breathing heavily, clothes drenched in cold sweat, heart beating fast and painfully in his chest. He looked around wildly and it took him a while to recognize his surroundings. He was in his room, in his bed. Hogwarts. He was safe. No Death Eaters. No Killing Curse.
He buried his face in his shaky hands, focusing on bringing his breathing back to normal, on stopping his body from shaking, on stopping the frantic thoughts racing in his mind.
He ran his hands through his hair and looked around again, this time seeing the open letter from Sirius sitting on his bedside table, his journal beside it. He stared at it, hands itching to get it and write to Neville and Sirius, to make sure they were well and safe, mind desperate for any kind of comforting.
Then he caught sight of the time. 3:14AM. They were surely asleep. And there was no point, and no need, in worrying them because of a stupid nightmare.
He took a deep breath and got up from the bed, taking his journal, the letter and his wand and walking unsteadily to the Floo. He stepped in and gave the address, stumbling a little when he stepped out into their room in the Home.
He walked to the bed, placing his things on the bedside table, slipping under the covers, placing his head on a pillow and hugging another, hoping that being there was enough to drive away the irksome feeling those nightmares all left behind, like sticky grime all over his skin.
Slowly he felt himself relax, the shivers stopping, their familiar scent surrounding him, and, if he closed his eyes tightly, he could almost pretend that they were there.