a nightmare he can't shake
The night after Harry’s fever finally broke, the nightmares came.
It started with the sound of his mother screaming, Aunt Petunia’s shrill voice, Voldemort mocking him, the cold, unforgiving edge of Uncle Vernon’s fist slamming into the doorframe. They were all chasing him, yelling at him. Then, the suffocating darkness of the cupboard, the sharp smell of mildew and old wood.
Harry woke up with a gasp, his heart hammering, the feeling of that cramped space crawling all over his skin. He was tangled in blankets, sweaty and trembling, and for a moment, he didn’t know where he was. But the cold sweat that coated his body, the tightening in his chest, all pointed back to one thing: he was still trapped, still under their control.
The room was dark, save for the faint moonlight filtering through the window. His breath came in shaky gasps, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that if he didn’t get out of the room, if he didn’t do something, it would happen all over again.
But then, a voice broke through the haze.
“Harry?”
Ron’s head poked around the doorframe, eyes still adjusting to the dim light. He stood there for a moment, his hand resting on the door handle, not quite sure if he should enter. Harry wiped his eyes quickly, feeling stupid.
“I’m fine,” Harry muttered, his voice thick with panic, but Ron didn’t leave. Instead, he stepped inside, closing the door quietly behind him.
“You’re not,” Ron said gently, sitting at the edge of Harry’s bed. “Can I—can I stay with you?”
Harry didn’t know what to say. He didn’t want to burden Ron, didn’t want to be that weak, but his body was already reacting to the closeness—his heart still racing, the cold sweat still prickling his skin. He nodded, feeling an odd sense of relief at the quiet presence of his best mate.
Ron didn’t say anything more. He just pulled the covers back and settled next to Harry, careful not to crowd him too much, but close enough that Harry could feel the warmth of him. Harry didn’t know how to react, so he stayed silent, staring at the wall. Ron just sat there, letting Harry breathe.
Eventually, Ron spoke again. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Harry shook his head, swallowing hard. “No. I—I don’t want to tell you what happened.”
Ron let out a soft sigh, then nudged him gently with his shoulder. “You don’t have to, Harry. But if you ever want to, I’ll listen. No judgment, I swear.”
Harry nodded again, feeling the weight in his chest loosen just a little. Ron’s presence was enough to make him feel grounded, like he wasn’t alone in the darkness anymore. It didn’t fix anything, but it was something. And for now, it was all Harry needed.