Potionary Confinement

Revelations and Nightmares

CHAPTER THREE

Harry was having a frightening dream.

It had nothing to do with Hogwarts or the Triwizard Tournament...

He was at Privet Drive, alone and isolated in his cupboard under the stairs that he hasn't been in since he was eleven years old. He hated the feeling of being locked inside a room, no matter how big or small, and that's when he woke up.

He was sitting up and clutching his thin chest, panicking over something he didn't know. He immediately felt like he was in the cupboard again, he wasn't at Hogwarts, locked inside a storage room with Snape.

Harry must've been whimpering and crying out loud enough for Snape to wake up during his claustrophobic episode. Because next thing he knew, he was kneeled by his side, his hand resting on the middle of his back.

"Potter?" Snape asked softly with a tinge of worry. "Potter? Harry? Harry, look at me."

Did he just call me Harry?

Snape gently turned his face to look at him with a finger under his chin, and wet green eyes met black.

"Do you know who I am?" Snape asked.

Harry's breathing never slowed but he mumbled, "P-Professor Snape..."

Snape nodded. "Do you know where you are?"

"Hogwarts," Harry whimpered, shaking like a leaf. "Locked in... your private stores... at Hogwarts."

"Correct," Snape said and pulled out a Calming Draught. "Drink this. It's a Calming Draught."

Harry drank it and he immediately calmed, Snape's hand never leaving his back. Snape took back the empty bottle when he was finished.

It was quiet for a moment. Harry felt as if his face would burn off from how red he was turning.

He was so embarrassed... out of everybody he could've had a panic attack in front of, it had to be Snape.

But Snape didn't seem fazed by it, nor did he ask questions... just yet.

Then Harry spoke for the first time in minutes, "You just keep calming droughts... inside your robes, sir?"

"I teach hysterical, accident-prone children for hours on end, Mr. Potter," said Snape. "You'd be surprised how many I give out a day."

"Mostly fifth-years, sir?" Harry smirked.

Snape nodded and snorted. "Indeed. But besides anxiety-stricken students about their O.W.L.s, being the Potions Master has taught me to carry several Calming Draughts at all times. Potions can be a very dangerous subject if not executed properly. That's why accidents happen quite frequently. Because children are hysterical and accident-prone creatures."

He ended with a slight smirk towards Harry's end.

Harry gave a small smile. "Or they're distracted... because their snarky Potions professor scares the living daylights out of them."

Snape knew he was joking, but he said anyway, "Your Potions professor sometimes has to be snarky to insure the safety of all his students."

Harry gave a small laugh, and laid back down into his sleeping bag.

It was quiet, Harry still awake, but incredibly tired.

Then suddenly Snape spoke.

"I know I can be... sometimes harsh upon students. But don't ever take it to heart."