Blood Stones (Snarry)

Dreams to Nightmares

They were in that same locker room area that they had seen the redhead from the memorial alive. Harry was at what one must presume to have been his locker, taking off a shirt when the redhead approached.

"How's' it going little lizard?" he chuckled good-naturedly.

"Fine, but when will you stop calling me that?" he laughed, an eyebrow raised as he started pulling his undershirt off.

"When the trio is corrected." he said, hold up three fingers with a grin.

He had a strong American accent that, from the looks around the others in the room, some found annoying. Not Harry. in fact, he seemed drawn to the rumbling timber and informal joviality.

"And those are?"

"One, stop looking like a snake in its den when I wake ya." he said with a serious expression that only had potter smirking.

"Two, wear color contacts." he said, this time struggling to hold the serious expression, while Harry's lips pursed, and eyes rolled.

"And three-" he barely held in his cackles-

"Grow a couple of inches!" With seemingly practiced ease he blocked the smack to his head by a grinning if flustered potter, everyone else joining in on the laugh as the two began to play tussle until potter had him pinned.

It was true, the man had towered over Harry in both height and build, but that didn't stop the tussling ending with Andrew's on his back with sparkling mirth filled blue eyes staring up into challenging green ones.

"Oh, and one more thing," he said with a flirtatious tone that had all the rest of the men groaning in their hands or grinning at Harry's expense.

"About the name, call me Stephen, it's been two fuckin' years, just call me Stephen." Harry had huffed but had gotten up as though hiding his blush, his pulse going quickly, and a telling heat could be felt in his chest and cheeks. Then as the scene fell away, Stephen rose and whispered lowly in his ear.

"Now, about those drinks Mr. Potter,"

The scene continued to fall away with that echoing out until they emerged in an old shipyard. There was blood. Harry's foot seemed caught in a trap and his wand had skittered away as he seemed to be struggling against a broad figure covering his mouth. The scene panned to shadows, a second figure, this one feminine seemed to be raising something large over their head and beginning to swing it down towards Harry's captured leg and now arm.

The scene began to fuzz like static on tv, the blood rushing through their ears. Mocking chants of beating the bloody chosen one. Andr- Stephen's voice yelling out a hex followed by others. The world was red and blurred, all he could feel was a pain so intense it had numbed the rest if his senses. He was blacking out, laying in a sticky pool of thick liquid... What is this? Harry coming to, only to start screaming in pain, opening his mouth to call for his partner.

Only to meet milky blue eyes through his blurred-glasses less- vision. In Stephen's hand was a broken cherry wood wand, its intricate carvings warped by the snap. His other hand was reached out to Harry. The dream continued to blur. Harry seemed to go into shock as he dragged himself corpse to corpse trying to find any of his units alive.

Mallick was still breathing. His tan face and dark eyes reaching up and trying to say something. No words came out due to his wounds on his throat. He didn't say anything after that... He later found out the group took his glasses for a damn trophy...

The dream seemed to shift. They were at St. Mungo's, it was chaos, nurses, and doctors running to Auror after Auror. Harry was given a potion, slightly too pale than he remembered but his mind felt muddled. He drank it down. He'd screamed for hours as the faulty medicine grew back his bones incorrectly.