Chapter 1
Harry shifted in his seat on the bench in the Great Hall. He hadn’t been very hungry, feeling the familiar sensation of someone’s eyes on him.
“I feel like Professor Moody keeps staring at me.”
Harry shuddered. The man’s eyes seemed to remain on him anytime the two were in the same vicinity. Tracking his every move. Even in classes when they were doing busywork and the Professor wasn’t teaching, both eyes— magic and non magic— stared him down. He noticed it at mealtimes too. Frankly it was deeply disturbing.
“Are you sure mate?”
Ron frowned with concern for his friend. He knew with the Tri-Wizard Tournament on the horizon, setting aside his own jealousy to recognize Harry’s distress, Harry hadn’t been resting. He hardly slept at all before. It seemed the deep circles under his eyes were becoming permanent. “Maybe you’re just paranoid?”
“Maybe so. There’s a sleeping potion I’m gonna take tonight. Maybe a good rest will do me good.”
Hermione put her hand on his shoulder. “A nice rest will always do you good,” she shoved his untouched plate towards him. “And so will eating. Take a few bites.”
He rolled his eyes at her worried insistence. “Alright, ‘Mione.”
Dinner was tense. He’d been announced as the Hogwarts champion months prior, and had already finished two tasks. He hated this stupid tournament. It wasn’t fair. Not just to him, to everyone. The other champions and the other schools and the other Hogwarts students.
And Cedric.
He’d been so cordial about it, despite what his house members say and do.
All Harry wanted was a quiet year. Just one year without having to fear a direct threat. He noticed Hermione was still staring him down, so he took a few bites of food. He couldn’t tell you what he was eating. It didn’t taste like anything to him and his anxiety.
~
As the third task rapidly creeped up, Moody’s glaring became more frequent. The constant feeling of that magic eye trained on him was driving him bloody insane.
“Mr. Potter!” A book cover made contact with his skull. Snape hadn’t hit him hard just enough to snap him out of the anxious daze. “I beg you! Pay attention in my class for once.” Snape sighed frustratedly.
“It’s not his fault he can’t focus, professor,” Ron defended him. He’s been more protective since the first task. Harry guesses he feels guilty for thinking he entered his name on purpose. “He-”
“He’s been taking dreamless sleep every night.” Harry blinked in shock at the soft but firm voice nearby. Since when could Neville sound like that? Since when did Neville talk to professor Snape?!
Harry watched as Snape’s head whipped around to Neville, expecting him to remove every point Gryffindor had earned in the year and then some. Instead the two stared each other down, Harry might’ve been delirious with the way he swears Snape’s sneer seemed softer, a grimace of something other than disgust.
“Five points from Gryfindor. Mr Potter, stay after class.”
And Snape stomped off to torture a different group of students. Harry’s head swam with confusion. He waited until the end of class, watching as his peers spilled out of the classroom and his friends shot a concerned glance before pouring out with the rest of the class. He approached Snape’s desk nervously.
“You wanted to see me Professor.”
Snape lifted himself to stand, so he towered over Harry.
“Was what Mr. Longbottom said true?” A scowl.
“Yes professor.” Of course he’s been taking them. It was too hard to sleep lately.
Snape leaned back against his desk and folded his arms over his chest, one leg crossed over the other. If Harry didn’t know better he’d say Snape was acting like a disappointed parent. “And who, pray tell, has been giving you these potions? Madame Pomfrey?”
“No sir. I was telling Professor McGonagall about my issues and Professor…” Harry trailed off. Anxiety bubbled in his chest.
“And? Speak, Potter.”
“Professor Moody overheard and gave them to me.” Dread curdled his insides. The professor he’d been feeling unnerved by. The professor that has been staring him down every chance he got.
Snape’s scowl deepened but for the first time, Harry felt like it wasn’t directed at him. The man turned around and moved behind his desk. He set down a bottle of some tan murky potion. “Take this in its place. Bring me the rest of those dreamless sleep. That is an order, Potter. Am I understood?”
Harry took the potion, feeling rather confused. “Yes professor.”