Chapter Text
“I’m sorry, Harry. I can’t give you any more Dreamless Sleep.”
Harry swallows. He knew Madam Pomfrey would say that, eventually. She told him early on that the potion could only be a temporary solution. If you suppress dreams for too long, you get sick.
Harry sighs. “Okay.”
He knows it’d be pointless to protest. Madam Pomfrey won’t listen to his pleas, no matter what he says. And it’s not like Harry will gain much by one more peaceful night, anyway.
“I’m sorry,” Madam Pomfrey repeats.
Harry hears the concern in her voice and smiles reassuringly. At least, that is what he tries to do. By the way the lines on Madam Pomfrey’s face deepen, it doesn’t look very convincing.
“Don’t be. It’s not your fault.”
Madam Pomfrey sighs. She looks sad and conflicted, but ultimately, there is nothing she can do for him, and she knows it. She hesitates for a moment. Then she wishes him a good night and leaves.
The second she is out of sight, Harry grimaces. He is so tired of it all. Tired of fighting, tired of hurting, tired of…
No, not tired of living. Not yet, anyway.
Harry pulls the blanket over his head, trying to block out the world around him. There is only one reason why he doesn’t try to remain awake for as long as possible.
He can’t stay awake for the rest of his life.
***
Harry glances around, his eyes widening. This is the first time he’s seen these shapeless, foggy surroundings, yet he instantly knows where he is.
I’m dreaming. This is my first soulmate dream.
The corners of Harry’s mouth twitch upwards into a smile, and a wave of giddy excitement goes through him. No more nightmares, with or without Dreamless Sleep, at least until my soulmate and I complete our bond. This is the best news I’ve got in a really long time.
Harry spins around, needing to see his soulmate to tell her how much it means to him to be here with her. The smile on his face freezes when his gaze falls on a tall man whose red eyes are staring at him, icy and hard.
Harry forces himself to keep breathing. His legs are screaming at him to back away, to turn around and run, but his mind refuses to comply. He feels like a deer in headlights, thinking — against his better judgment — that he’ll somehow get out of this if he stays perfectly still.
Voldemort’s eyes wander over Harry’s body, his expression perfectly cold and even. Then he bares his teeth.
“You’re not my soulmate. What did you do? Is this one of Dumbledore’s tricks?”
Voldemort takes a step towards him, and that’s all it takes for Harry’s body to listen to him again. He backs away, his movements so hastily and rigidly that he stumbles over his own feet.
There goes my chance to escape, Harry thinks as he falls. Voldemort will tear me apart, and there’s nothing I can do to prevent that.
***
Harry sits up straight, breathing heavily, looking around for what woke him up. But there’s nothing to see. He’s the only one in the hospital wing. Harry leans back, frowning. That can only mean one thing, right? I had my first soulmate dream, and I got so excited that I jolted awake.
Harry closes his eyes, smiling. Yes, that has to be it. He should definitely have had a nightmare without Dreamless Sleep, and since he can’t remember having one — that he can’t remember dreaming at all — says it all.
You can’t remember what happened in your soulmate dreams when you’re awake. You can’t even be sure you already have your soulmate dreams since you only regain your memories of what happened in your dreams when you’re sleeping.
Harry rolls onto his side and buries his face in his pillow. He can’t wait to get back to sleep. Whoever his soulmate is, she has to be great if she jolted him awake the way she did.
***
Harry opens his eyes, and a jolt of horror goes through him when he regains his memories all at once. Hastily, Harry jumps to his feet, surprised that Voldemort isn’t already on him, using Harry’s moment of weakness to his advantage. Harry keeps his eyes fixed on Voldemort as he takes a few steps back, slower and more controlled this time.
Voldemort stares at him, disgust in every line of his face.
“You’re not my soulmate,” he repeats. “I’m not falling for this trick. You are still my enemy, and I will still kill you if you give me half a chance.”
Yeah, obviously. Why does he feel the need to say that? They stare at each other for a while, Harry ready to turn around and run at a moment’s notice. Voldemort’s legs are much longer than his, so his chances of outrunning him are minuscule, but he’d be damned if he didn’t try regardless.
“Why aren’t you saying anything?”
“I don’t have anything to say.”
Voldemort narrows his eyes. “What’s the point of bringing me here, then? Why did Dumbledore trap us here?”
Harry tries to make sense of Voldemort’s words while making sure to keep most of his attention on Voldemort. He might only be trying to distract him so that he can overwhelm Harry more easily.
He really thinks we aren’t soulmates, doesn’t he? Or he at least wants me to think he does. A new wave of horror washes over Harry. What will he do once he realizes that this isn’t some kind of crazy plot? That we’re stuck, that we will dream of each other every night until one of us dies? Because that’s the only way out of this. That or us completing our bond. The thought is so absurd that Harry snorts involuntarily.
“What’s so funny?” Voldemort snarls.
“Nothing,” Harry murmurs hastily.
“Liar.”
Harry’s heart rate increases rapidly when he sees the loathing in Voldemort’s eyes, and he swallows heavily. I can’t afford to make him any angrier than I absolutely have to.
“Sorry. Just... The thought of us being soulmates and completing our bond is funny to me in an absurd way.”
“You are not my soulmate. My soulmate is powerful and confident and not a pathetic little boy like you.”
A spark of hope ignites in Harry’s chest. “So you usually dream of someone else, someone who’s unlike me in every way?”
That might mean he’ll make it out of this alive somehow. Maybe this is just some weird glitch, a one-time thing, maybe it’s just a side-effect of Voldemort using Harry’s blood to resurrect himself. Who knows? Harry’s willing to accept a lot of excuses as long as they lead to him not being stuck with Voldemort.
Harry’s hope slowly melts away when Voldemort neither confirms nor denies anything and instead stares at him expressionlessly.
A shiver runs down his back, and Harry takes half a step back.
Don’t kid yourself, Harry. Luck isn’t on your side here. You can’t fake soulmate dreams. No one knows enough about how they work for that to be possible. And once Voldemort accepts that...
“You will pay for this,” Voldemort hisses. “I don’t care that you apparently didn’t know of Dumbledore’s plan. You will suffer for giving me hope only to take it away from me right away. There will be nothing left of you once I’m done with you.”
Harry feels sick to his stomach as Voldemort bares his teeth before turning into thin air.
There’s no doubt in his mind that Voldemort meant every word he said.
***
Harry wakes up gradually this time, and he grins, hugging his pillow. His life might be shitty right now, but at least he’ll have something to look forward to every night.