I Can't Sleep

Misery Loves Company

James POV:

He's here again.

Of course he's here again.

So are you.

He sits there, basking in the low moonlight, lit up so pale and transparent - as if he's a ghost.

His black hair and the bags under his eyes contrasting so greatly with his complexion.

"Did Black show you his charms essay?" He speaks as I find my seat.

"He mentioned that you two did it together and I looked over it and made a few suggestions to improve it."

I blink slowly, my mind sluggish.

It's been a long couple days.

Running on little to no sleep while trying to get to my classes on time and going on that date.

I think my body is finally catching up to my mind, and I think...I think I need sleep.

"Potter?" Snape asks, looking at me for the first time tonight.

His obsidian eyes seem to shine in the moonlight.

His eyebrows are furrowed in confusion I think, and his mouth is tilted down at the corners slightly.

Odd.

Suddenly, when his frown deepens, I realize I still haven't answered him.

Say something so he doesn't think you're inept!

Shaking myself I quickly blink and stumble over my words.

"Er - Yah, he um, he showed me your notes...earlier and...yah," I finish lamely.

Brilliantly put.

Snape - Severus - raises a thin eyebrow at me. I nod my head absently and look out toward the grounds.

Shadows dance across the empty land, like restless demons come to life. The wind aids their dance by blowing through the trees roughly, whistling as it brings on an onslaught of dark clouds and causing the little moonlight we had to slowly but surely fade.

"Looks like it might rain," Severus comments, following my line of sight uo to the clouds.

I nod once again, my gaze still cast out into the dark night.

Ive never been a huge fan of the dark, but I've never especially been afraid of it. It's always just been so fixed, so...all-encompassing, like a blanket is draped over the world.

A blanket which admittingly could easily be yanked away. A simple Lumos would do away with the dark, and yet there's something that I've found always holds me back.

Something that is not paralyzing fear - the kind that makes you unable to move or do anything about it - but instead some sense of fragile peace.

As if I find comfort in the uncomfortable.

It's all-encompassing sure, but it's also sure, and consistent.

Only foreboding when you make it.

Only there as long as you allow it.

☆

Severus POV:

Potter is acting strange.

His movements are slow, and uncoordinated. His speech is the same and somewhat slurred.

He looks as if it's an effort to keep his head up, and his eyes open.

Yet he's so deep in thought I don't think there's any chance of him falling asleep and careening over the edge. A small comfort I suppose, to know that he's not going to doze off the side of the castle in my presence.

I noticed in class earlier that he looked very little different. He looked as if at any moment he could face plant into the desk, or slide out of his chair and pass out onto the floor.

I still don't know why exactly he's here almost every night. And I still don't know whether or not I really care.

Before my indifference to his suprising presence was more of a lack of empathy to why he can't sleep, lack of empathy to his problems, now however I find myself not caring for seemingly a completely other reason.

Because I crave his company.

Well, not necessarily his company - I may have forgiven but I have in no way forgotten - but company in general.

I suppose I don't care now because no matter the reason he's here, he's here. The only other soul around in this dark and lonely night.

The only other soul who I know is just as restless and possibly tortured as me, after all, 'misery loves company'...

Not that I see any reason in which Potter of all people should be restless and tortured.

He's Potter.

And he's nothing if not unfazed by the world.

☆

Neither of us talked for the rest of the night, and it wasn't until the sun began to rise and we both stood to go out separate ways that I felt the unwanted feeling of concern for the bespectacled boy. 

Just like when he arrived he seemed to sway on his feet, a light gasp escaping his lips as his hand went out to lightly grasp the wall.

"Potter?" I say hesitantly, but he doesn't appear to hear me.

He just blinks a few times before swallowing hard. I can see a bead of sweat track down the side of his face and drip onto his shirt.

"Potter?" I say, more firmly this time.

Still he doesn't seem to hear me.

"Potter are you al - " before I can even get the sentence out Potters eyes roll back and his eyes flutter shut as he slowly collapses to his right - into the wall.

He slides down the wall as I rush forward, unconscious.

"Potter!" I exclaim, taking him by the shoulder and giving him a shake.

"Potter can you hear me! Potter!"

A rogue stab of fear shoots through me as he remains unresponsive.

I give his face a few quickly taps, his skin is clammy and feverish under my touch. His chest rises and falls lightly, it barely even noticeable that he's still breathing.

A thousand different thoughts race across my mind about what could have happened, ranging from exhaustion to spell damage to poison.

My stomach churns at the last one.

"Please wake up! James! J - "

Suddenly his eyes blink open slightly, squinting in the rising morning light. I give an audible sigh of relief and my whole body sags as I sit back on my toes, still kneeling in front of his crumpled body.

He feebly tries to stir and strains himself to sit up - stopping only when I hold him firmly down.

"Hospital wing. Now." I say, and his eyes flicker shut as his head falls back onto the floor.