Nine
2nd September 1991
‘Still having bad dreams Severus?’
Severus huffs.
‘You make me sound like a child.’
Morpheus laughs.
‘No, Severus. You are not a child any more. Far from it.’
Something shifts in the space between them, though Severus cannot tell quite what has changed. He feels uncomfortable in a way he has never felt around Morpheus. It is not an altogether negative discomfort though.
‘So. Are you going to tell me why I’m here?’ Lord Morpheus asks.
‘You tell me. You’re the one who keeps popping into my dreams at random intervals.’ Severus drawls.
Morpheus tilts his head.
‘I’m here because you called me. Why you called me is what I am wondering.’
Severus just scowls at him.
‘Didn’t you know? You’ve been doing it for quite some time now. I presume when you have a particularly difficult nightmare.’ Morpheus comments.
Severus has still never had a good dream entirely of his own volition. It seemed his brain was incapable of generating them for some reason. It figured really, that someone as ugly and nasty as himself could never come up with any positive thoughts.
‘I don’t believe that’s true.’ Morpheus says.
Severus glares at him suddenly, though there is no real malice in it.
‘I didn’t read your mind.’ Dream almost smiles. ‘That is not one of my skills. But I have been watching your dreams for a long time. Perhaps it is more that you believe yourself to be… bad. Usually that is not how it works…’ Morpheus trails off and looks at him.
‘Come with me.’ He says after a long pause, holding out his hand.
The King of Dreams had often held Severus’ hand as a child. Severus had stopped accepting that hand sometime around his mid to late teens, thinking he was too old for that sort of comfort. But now he slowly reaches out and places his work roughened fingers into Dream’s palm.
It feels different to how it used to, unsurprisingly. Their hands are now around the same size for a start. Dream of the Endless has not changed – will never change physically – but Severus doesn’t remember having noticed how his hands felt before. They are soft but stable, heavy yet somehow intangible, cool but fiery. His own hands are like that of a much older person; worn and creased from years of brewing, marked with tiny scars, and small callouses.
They land on a beach, a wide and desolate expanse of colourless sand.
‘Come.’
Morpheus leads him through a huge gate; fantastical in scale and design even from a wizard’s perspective.
Beyond it lies a vast land of green plains, rolling hills, forests, rivers, and in the distance a tall castle. Severus feels a little like he had upon approaching Hogwarts that first time – though then he had been still relatively full of hope, and Dream’s castle is even more impressive.
‘When the dreamers sleep, their minds are connected to the land of dreams.’ Morpheus explains. ‘And the inhabitants of this land – the dreams and the nightmares – enact out those subconscious thoughts, hopes, desires, fears, worries. But you are different. For some reason your mind only connects to the nightmares. Unfortunately I have been unable to discover why that is. What I do know Severus, is that it is not because you do not have anything good inside you.’
Severus only realises that they are still holding hands, when Morpheus releases his grasp to lay his hand instead on Severus’ shoulder.
Morpheus feels his companion tense, his pulse quicken, and notes the slight parting of his lips. It takes a moment before he forces himself to step away. He has not met someone so remarkable in quite a long time. Hundreds if not thousands of years. But he is well aware that any connection Severus feels to him is down to the nature of their relationship. He had only ever intended to address the anomaly, help a young child to escape his nightmares, then somewhere over the past decade or so that had changed. Getting too involved with humans never ended well though.
‘So, tell me, why did you call me?’ Morpheus asks, and Severus quickly pulls himself together. He had been down the road of unrequited… feelings before, and it hadn’t ended well. The very notion of entertaining anything other than friendship with an immortal being, whom Severus was still not always sure actually existed would not be a good idea. Even calling them friends was a stretch to say the least.
They are wandering along a narrow valley beside a babbling brook which feels familiar somehow, the King of Dreams simply waiting patiently for Severus’ response.
‘Potter’s son.’ Severus responds eventually, squinting at the sunlight glinting off the water. ‘Has come to Hogwarts.’
‘What is he like?’ Morpheus asks.
Severus is quiet again for a long time.
‘He’s like his father.’ He states coldly.
‘You might be good at hiding your thoughts Severus, but I always know when you are doing it.’
‘He has her eyes.’ Severus concedes, though Morpheus can tell there is much more that he isn’t saying.
Morpheus no longer sends Severus pleasant little dreams. Since Lily’s death, and his subsequent break down, the idea had seemed rather patronising. Nowadays they simply stroll together through the dream kingdom, sometimes in conversation, other times in companionable silence.
Severus talks about his work, and the progress he’s made with several new potions inventions; Morpheus tells him about how he’d had to chase down a rogue nightmare who had found a way to enter the human realm. They discuss the intersection of magic and the ethereal world, and Morpheus smiles slightly as he watches Severus become animated when explaining his understanding of magical theory. Severus laughs and huffs when Morpheus talks about his siblings and which gods and goddesses are actually real.
‘It is morning.’ The King of Dreams suddenly stops under a sprawling great oak tree.
Severus doesn’t want to wake up. He doesn’t want to leave this place and have to deal with the uncomfortable reality of his life; the idiotic and delinquent children, the scheming and manipulative Headmaster. And bloody Potter. Potter who he wants – needs – to believe is just like his father, but who he has a niggling, disturbing feeling is not quite what he had expected.
He hopes that this is real, that the deal he had made with the Sandman all those years ago was binding, and that one day he will come here and live forever in the land of dreams.
~~*~*~~