Prongslet

Chapter Eight: Nightmare

Remus was about to tell Sirius once again, exactly how sorry he was, but anything he was about to say got stuck in his throat as a bloodcurling scream floated down the stairs. Both men's eyes widened in horror.

Sirius reacted first, leaping off the sofa in a manner very painfully reminiscent of Prongs, and bounding up the polished marble stairs like the Grim he was. Remus was barely half a step behind him; it was getting close to the full moon already, and Moony had mercifully acknowledged Harry as part of his pack. His cub, to be more precise. He wouldn't hurt him.

"Harry!" Sirius threw open the door and very nearly ripped away the curtains that fell around the bed.

Harry's eyes were closed tightly, his head was thrashing wildly against the pillow, small hands fisting fearfully in the sheets as he kicked and squirmed.

Sirius and Remus quickly pried the boy out of the sheets, and Sirius pulled the child close, hugging him. Harry woke up at the sudden, warm contact, gasping.

"Bad dream?" Harry looked up to find Sirius gazing down at him, worry evident in his stormy blue eyes.

Remembering how he had hurt Sirius before, he felt really bad. Sirius hadn't hurt him. But he had made Sirius sad with what he said. He didn't even mean it. He nodded slowly against the Animagus' chest.

"Will you tell us about it?" Harry jumped in surprise when Remus spoke, as he hadn't noticed the werewolf.

He turned to Sirius. If Sirius had asked... But why would Sirius care, after what he'd said? Sirius had been sent good to him, but he'd hurt him. So now even Sirius wouldn't like him anymore... And he didn't want to be with Remus! Something felt weird about Remus. There was a wild feeling to him, like he wasn't a human. That same feeling was there with Sirius too, but he already knew what Sirius was. Sirius was a dog, and he liked dogs, even if he had never had one. More than that, he didn't want to talk. Talking wasn't allowed. He could even be sent back to the Dursleys!

"Pup? Can you tell us about your dream?" This time, Sirius asked, kicking Remus in the shin, and then nodding violently at the chair over Harry's head. Remus just rolled his eyes, sitting to nurse his shin.

"I w-was ba-back a-a' Un-cle V-Vernon's h-house. C-cause I d-didn't w-wanna t-takea b-bath a-and y-you g-h-got m-mad a-and s-sent m-me b-ba-back."

"Oh, pup, I would never send you back!" Sirius was horrified that Harry could have dreamt of him like that. "Never, no matter what, will I send you back!"

Harry wasn't just scared, he was terrified. He had spoken more than he had ever done before, not to mention he had woken Sirius and Remus, or at least disturbed them, because of his nightmare. He wasn't supposed to speak, but he felt alright with Sirius, and after all, Sirius had asked him to talk, hadn't he? But he knew firsthand that no one liked being disturbed. And Vernon had made sure he stifled his cries. Harry was shaking in fear, and caught a glimpse of Remus.

The werewolf had noticed what Sirius hadn't. While Sirius was trying to calm down a certain raven haired boy, Remus noticed how cold it had become. It was probably colder in the room than out in the autumn's chilly night! Also, it seemed as though the pillows on Harry's bed had gotten stuck to the ceiling somehow. What shocked him most, however, was the fact that Harry's shorts had come some way down, unzipped. While the cold and pillows could easily be attributed to accidental magic, Harry's state of slight, yet rather disturbing, undress would probably have a gruesome explanation that Remus wasn't sure he could handle.

Harry caught he werewolf staring, his expression uneasy, and his brows furrowed in thought. Emerald eyes filled. He shrank closer to Sirius, almost expecting to be hit by the sandy-haired man. Sirius didn't notice the violent flinch, nor the slight shudder.