Drarry One Shots

Before I go to Sleep

A/N This story was a request by @Phantomofgryffindor and although it's not quite the story they requested, it's close. I don't want to give away the plot, however, I totally admit to the storyline being inspired by the book/film of the same title though it's some time since I've read or seen either. This is my adaptation, I just really thought the idea would work here once Harry Potter-fied. I absolutely recommend the book by S. J. Watson.

***

He woke suddenly. He didn't stir, he lay still, trying to calm his beating heart.

It was the same dream that had awoken him. A long bright corridor with stark strip lighting. Dull non-descript grey fire doors, although he knows in his heart that they are unimportant. Only the door at the end of the corridor – that is where he needs to get to... Number 22... it's vitally important he gets to the door... In the dream, he is reaching forward to push open the door that is firmly closed... it is resistant to his touch and the urgency to get beyond the barrier increases... something vitally important is behind that door... waiting for him... there is an urgency in his mind, like he needs to escape or needs to get into the room, he's not quite sure... he thinks someone is waiting for him...

'Harry...'

And that was where he woke every time. He knew this in a frightening clarity. The dream frustrated him – he wanted to know more. He wanted to understand.

He was immediately aware of someone in the bed next to him but he couldn't place who it might be. The breathing was unfamiliar and that worried him. He tried to think what had happened the previous night but couldn't remember. It all felt so unfamiliar and there was a heavy blankness that weighed worryingly on his mind. The more he tried to search for something, some memory, anything... the more he felt his heartbeat increase to a rapid throbbing in his chest that might explode through it at any moment. All he can remember is the dream... but that was all he knew...

He flung the duvet back and sat up hurriedly, panic driving his actions now. He instinctually reached for the glasses on the bedside table and pushed them on. As he glanced around him, he couldn't recognise anything about him. It all seemed so strangely familiar but like he didn't belong. The garish red duvet set with an awful gold crest blazoned across it... the dated, cream fitted-wardrobes and bedside tables... the cream carpets... the red curtains and lamp shades... the rug that matched the duvet... the man next to him...

Fuck! He scrubbed a hand through his unruly hair.

'Harry,' the man said, his watery-blue eyes wide with worry as he sat up and placed a calming hand at the base of Harry's back. He had boyish fair curly hair and a round face. He made Harry want to flinch away. 'Harry, it's okay. You must remember to breath. It will be okay, we just have to start the day afresh, like every morning...'

'Who are you?' Harry croaked.

'Dennis... remember. Your fiancé. We live together, in your house, in Surrey. There was an accident, do you remember? You were an Auror, there was a job that went wrong, two years ago... amnesia from a curse...'

'Fuck!' Harry said.

The man... Dennis... frowned. 'Try not to swear, darling, it's not you. Why don't you freshen up in your bathroom and I'll fix us some breakfast before I go to work?'

Dennis gave him a quick peck on the cheek and shifted out of the bed. Harry realised with horror that Dennis was naked. Fearful of the implication, though he was aware he was wearing pyjama bottoms, he watched Dennis pull on some joggers and a sweat shirt. He was confused by the man, not convinced he'd end up with someone who looked like Dennis but he knew that was a superficial view. If they were engaged, there must be something. After Dennis left the room, he looked at the platinum and diamond engagement ring on his finger, bewildered.