Jack, not Jackson

Chapter 38: Sunrise and Silence

Harry POV:

I woke up screaming.
My ears were ringing too loud with my own heartbeat to hear what Ron was trying to tell me but I grabbed his arm anyway. I must have woken him too.  "Sorry. "I whisper, collapsing back into my bed as my panting starts to slow.

Ron, seeing I'm okay gives me an unspoken glance of understanding and reassurance before returning to his bed and promptly passing out. He hadn't been getting much sleep either.

I was covered in sweat and freezing so I pull the blanket up, then tuck my knees into my chest, effectively circling into a ball and try to get back to sleep. Every time I closed my eyes I saw Diggory being eaten by rats. His yellow and black tournament uniform dyed red at the edges of each and every scratch.

I shudder again as the vividness of the dream hits me. How can I see so clearly what never happened? Yes Diggory was killed by Peter, but Peter used the killing curse not his animagus form. 

Deciding that I was going to be sick if I closed my eyes one more time. I flip off the covers and get up. It's pitch black outside and no one will be up for hours but I need to escape. So I walk with no destination. Out of the dorm, down two flights of steps, past the prefects bathroom and find myself standing outside the door to Professor Frosts classroom.

Hesitating, I shake my head. Mentally scolding myself for being uncertain. I mean, it was what, half past two in the morning? It's not like anyone else would be there.
So I push the door open.

The classroom has been cleaned since this afternoon and it smells of mint and lavender. The moon was filtering in through the ridiculously clean windows and the bamboo mat looked inviting enough to sit on. So I sat.

Not ten minutes later a presence slides into a place on my right, also looking up at the moon. I glance over at my new Professor, still unsure how he's going to react to my unauthorized access to his class but he's still looking at the moon.

The thin scars peeking out from under his collar look silver in the light, nearly matching the odd shine of his hair.
As if noticing my wary study, Professor Frost turns to look at me. There is a knowing there. A deep comprehension that screams of battles lost and blood shed.
"Bad dream?" He asks.

I wasn't in the mood for words so I just nod.
He sighs lightly, the action more visible then audible. You can see the professor's breath in the moonlight. It looks like it's turning to ice in the air.

Almost as if he knew I needed silence, we don't say another word. Just sit and watch the sun come up over the quidditch pitch through the windows.
When the sun is halfway visible the Professors gets up. Not two minutes later he's back with a mug of hot chocolate and out the door.

So I sit with my legs crossed. My hands wrapped around a mug of hot chocolate that mixes well with the smell of mint and lavender. I think blissfully of nothing as I watch the sunrise in the silence.