The Man Who Knew Almost Nothing

Chapter Ten

Screams in the night

The sound of screaming awakened Harry, and for an instant he was incredibly confused and his heart was beating like mad. He struggled to free himself from the blankets on his bed as he realized the frightened cries had come from beside him. Gilderoy, he remembered. Tossing aside the covers, he found his lover twisting and turning in a nightmare, his skin covered with a thin sheen of perspiration. He cried out again and did not awaken. Harry grabbed him by the shoulder, shaking him hard.

“Gilderoy! Gilderoy! Wake up!” he yelled.

Harry’s stomach tightened as Gilderoy convulsively fought him, unaware of anything but the internal world of his nightmares. A wayward fist connected with Harry’s stomach as he leaned over Gilderoy, knocking the breath out of him. Harry toppled to the floor and stayed there for a moment as he saw stars. The errant punch had been a strong one.

“Gilderoy?” he coughed, dragging himself up from the floor.

A whimpered cry escaped his lips as he thrashed about on the bed. One of the nearby windows cracked. Harry felt his own panic rising as he reached and caught both of Gilderoy’s arms. The last thing they needed was for things to begin exploding.

His eyes were open, but vacant and staring, completely unaware. His damp, golden hair clung to his face. Harry shook him again as he struggled against an unseen enemy.

“Gilderoy? Can you hear me? Gilderoy, it’s Harry! Please!” he said, pleading with him and shaking him by the arms.

The almost convulsive thrashing began to lessen. Harry released his arms and cautiously sat down on the edge of the bed. Gilderoy’s head lolled to the side. The nightmare was coming to an end. Then Gilderoy made a choking sound. Harry instinctively rolled him onto his side as he gagged.

“Harry?” he choked, becoming violently ill.

“I’m here. You’re okay. It’s over,” he reassured him, cautiously stroking Gilderoy’s hair until the illness ended.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ... throw up like that,” Gilderoy coughed, tears beginning to slide down his cheeks.

“Don’t even think of it. Just a flick of the wand will fix it. It’s you I’m worried about,” said Harry. He slipped an arm behind Gilderoy as he sat up in bed and swung his legs over the side. “Would a shower help? Some nice cool water on your face?” Gilderoy nodded without making a sound. “Let’s get you cleaned up then,” said Harry, helping him to his feet. He was more than a bit unsteady.

“I was having a nightmare,” sniffed Gilderoy as Harry pushed him into the shower and turned on the water.

“I know, and you don’t do anything by halves.”

Watching Gilderoy through the glass, it was easy to see that he wasn’t up to talking about it yet. He leaned against the wall beneath the shower head and let the water rush over him. His expression was one of fear, confusion, and shame. He stood there for a long time before the look in his eyes returned to normal.

“Harry, can I go back to bed now?” he questioned.

“Just a few more minutes ... while I straighten everything up,” said Harry, finally feeling okay about leaving him.

Harry’s hands were shaking as he cast a cleaning spell on the linens and rearranged the blankets and so forth, smoothing the sheets with his hands to steady himself. The incident had caught him entirely off-guard. He knew that Gilderoy was still hurting emotionally and would probably never fully recover, but he had not anticipated Gilderoy having what could almost be considered a violent, nightmare-induced flash-back. It had terrified Harry.

“Maybe if I hadn’t grabbed him ... or touched him,” Harry thought guiltily, trying in vain to understand what had just happened. “Maybe I should just have let him have his nightmare and wake up on his own. But how does anyone know what to do in these situations?”

“Harry?” called a timorous voice from the bathroom.

He turned to see Gilderoy standing there with a towel wrapped around his waist.

“Yes?”

“Are you angry?”

“No, of course not. You couldn’t help it, Gilderoy. You just scared me. That’s all,” said Harry with a smile. He held out his arms, but Gilderoy hesitated.

“I can’t. Not now,” he said, lowering his eyes to the floor. He was still shaking, though he appeared calm.

“I understand. Do you want to sleep in the other room?”

“No, I don’t want to be alone.”

“All right,” said Harry, climbing back into bed, but staying on the side where he usually slept. Gilderoy seemed to relax as he did the same.

Harry stayed in bed until he was certain that Gilderoy was asleep again and then carefully stole out of the bedroom and into the parlor where the magical fire was still crackling softly in the fireplace. He poured himself a glass of wine for his fraying nerves and sat down on the couch. Hedwig, a nocturnal creature, had been greatly disturbed by the earlier ruckus and quickly flew to perch near Harry, giving him quizzical and worried looks until he gently ruffled her feathers and shook his head. He was uncertain about what to do now. He needed some advice. He had thought at first that he could help Gilderoy deal with what had happened in the hospital. It had seemed so simple. Love and understanding, he had thought, would help the healing process along, and he had tried to provide those things as well as he knew how. He had never considered for a moment that these things might not be sufficient.

Harry found some parchment and a quill, knowing that he had only one person whom he could trust to give him advice in such matters, only one person who had a tread a road as hard as Gilderoy’s and who would never break his confidence or truly let him down.

“Dear Sirius, I know you will find it hard to believe, but you are still my first choice as an advisor and friend in a crisis. In matters of love and the unbearable agonies found therein, I can think of no other person so well acquainted with those particular experiences and with pain itself. I have recently taken another lover, which in and of itself you will no doubt find pleasing. I really do believe that I love him, though our time together has been very short. So why, I know you would ask, do I require advice from you?

“He has come to me wounded, I dare say, to his very soul, and I know not what may be done for him. I know that Remus and you were once lovers, long ago. Knowing something of his life, I can only imagine the pain that you dealt with when you loved him. If you learned anything that might help me, I beg of you to pass that knowledge on. For as much as I do treasure and even love Gilderoy, I cannot on my own see what may be done for him. Your godson, Harry.”

Harry paused and sighed softly before deciding to add a post script:

“Sirius, he has also made me think a great deal about family, a precious thing that none of the three of us possess in great quantity. He is utterly alone, save only for me, if I may already consider myself his family. And I have only the two of you to count as my family. It would please both of us if you would lay aside your guilt and visit us at the Little Burrow. I am in desperate need of guidance, as I have said before, and have no one else to look to in such matters. ”

Harry carefully folded the letter and slipped it into an envelope before sending Hedwig on her way. He sipped his wine and noticed that his hands seemed steadier. Outside the sky was beginning to brighten with the coming dawn. Harry drained his glass and crept back to bed, very careful not to disturb Gilderoy.

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