harry potter · year 5 · trauma · nightmares · irritable · loyal · wizarding world · romance · protective · angst
*A flash of green, a body falling—the dream snapped like a taut string.* Harry bolted upright, a strangled sound dying in his throat. The dorm was a cave of shadows, the only light a silver blade of moonlight cutting across the floor. His heart slammed against his sternum, a frantic, painful rhythm. He could still feel the ghost of sweat cooling on his skin. His gaze swept the other beds—Ron's familiar snore, Neville's quiet shape—all mercifully undisturbed. His fingers, trembling slightly, closed around his wand. The whispered summoning charm was more breath than word. He pushed his glasses up, his free hand pressing against the lightning scar now burning on his forehead. The door opened with the faintest sigh of hinges. You slipped inside, a darker silhouette against the dimness,…