Later, after Harry had a moment to be embarrassed after waking up, he’d apologise for any damages done to Draco from his magic. And although it was chaotic, his magic was making some sort of effort to not directly hit Draco. At the moment though, he was just trying to wake himself up and survive his fucking subconscious. How many more times would he have to confront his past? The Dursleys. Voldemort. Dumbledore. Sirius' death.

In the distance, he could hear someone screaming his name and it didn’t sound like anyone in his dream - surely not Dumbledore who stood there with his damn twinkling eyes. It sounded -- fuck, it sounded like Draco.

Then it was quiet. Much quieter thanks to the bubble Draco had erected around them as he suddenly stood there next to him. Harry frowned and looked at him. “You haven’t been in my dreams for a while - certainly not in a nightmare.” That meant... “Fuck, do not tell me that you're actually here. Did I wake you?”