Drarry Oneshots

PTSD

Warning: language and themes around PTSD
Eighth Year, Harry's POV
I awoke with a gasp, sitting up straight. A thin layer of sweat covered my body. I slipped out of bed and left the dorm, careful not to wake Ron (although I doubted a meteor crashing next to Hogwarts would wake him). I staggered down the stairs to the eighth year common room, thinking about my nightmare.

I sat heavily in an armchair by the fire. The fire immediately flared as if someone put another log on it. I sighed. I tilted my head back, shut my eyes, and pinched the bridge of my nose.

"Potter?" a voice came from the armchair next to me. I lurched, opening my eyes and looking next to me. Messy, platinum blond hair peeked out from behind the armrest of the chair, grey eyes soon following.

"Jesus, Malfoy!" I exclaimed. "Could've given me a warning."

"That was a warning," he replied flatly. I sighed irritably. Since the war, Malfoy and I were civil with each other, mostly because everyone else had considered bygones to be bygones and made peace. Even Ron and Hermione got along with the Slytherins, namely Malfoy. Only Malfoy and I still had issues with each other. He had approached me early in the year to thank me for speaking at the trial for him and his mother, but neither of us could quite let go of everything else that had happened during our years at Hogwarts.

"Why are you up?" Malfoy asked me. I looked at him, squinting.

"None of your business."

"Merlin, Potter, I'm just trying to have a decent conversation."

"Fine. I'm up because I had a nightmare. Happy?" I replied.

"Oh. I'm sorry. I have nightmares, too," he said softly.

"Yours probably aren't about your friend screaming as a crazy bitch tortures her," I replied shortly, knowing Malfoy would remember. I knew that was unfair. He'd probably experienced horrible things too. I knew I was being an asshole, but I couldn't care less at the moment. Sure enough, his eyes widened.

"Oh."

"I'm going for a walk," I said, grabbing my wand and making to leave. Malfoy caught my arm.

"You know you're not supposed to be out at night."

"Don't care," I replied, yanking my arm from his grip and turning to leave. I pretended I didn't see the hurt in his expression as he turned back to the fire.

~~~

I snuck out again the next night. I didn't bother sleeping tonight. I had no intention of inviting nightmares to plague me. This time I wore my invisibility cloak so I wouldn't be caught by Malfoy. I didn't need him telling me the rules. Whenever I had nightmares like this (which was pretty much every night), I just went for a walk. I usually liked to go to the Astronomy Tower and look at the stars. I could imagine all those people, my family, who were up there now.

I used to tell Hermione and Ron about my nightmares. Then Hermione started insisting I had PTSD, a Muggle disorder that happened to many people when they returned from war. I knew what it was, but I didn't want to believe I had it. So I told Hermione that the nightmares had stopped. I told her I had visited Madam Pomfrey and she had given me a medication that helped. Since then, she didn't bother me about it anymore.

Thankfully, Malfoy wasn't in the common room. I remained under the invisibility cloak as I walked, although I knew that even if I was caught by Filch and took me to Professor McGonagall, she would not punish me. I walked to the Astronomy Tower, only pulling off my cloak once I was there. It was empty as usual. I sat down at the edge, not close enough to fall, and stared up at the stars.