Title: Dreaming Our Lives Away

Author: Unspoken Tragedy

Rating: PG-13, and will most likely stay this way.

Spoilers: All five books

Disclaimer: I own nothing.  I doubt I even own the plot.  I wish I owned Severus and Harry… But I'm just not that lucky.

Summery: Harry and Severus start meeting each other in strange, life-like dreams, and soon come to realize that these dreams are more real than they could ever have imagined.  They must now learn to work together, or they might never wake up.

Series: none yet

A/N: This story takes place in the summer after Harry's fifth year.  The Characters may be a bit OOC, but I'm striving to keep them as canon as possible.  This story is Harry & Severus centric.  This is NOT now and NEVER will be slash, so don't bother asking.  Dream sequences are in italics.  The disclaimer/info for this story will not be posted after this first chapter.  If you want to see it then you can return to chapter one.  Please R&R, the more reviews I get the more motivation there will be to post quickly.  -wink-wink- ;)    

Dreaming Our Lives Away

Prologue: And I Thought This Was Just a Dream

"Morning comes, soon you will wake

And see this was more than just a dream.

In your mind, hidden away,

This twisted reality."  

                     -Unspoken Tragedy

  Harry silently took in his surroundings.  This place seemed so strange, even though he could not make out the reason why.  He was in a dark forest, one much tamer than the nefarious Forbidden  Forest on Hogwarts' grounds.  Huge assorted trees encircled the small clearing he stood in, along with numerous bushes, weeds and wildflowers.  Logs and the occasional boulder lay scattered among the weeds, as if put there to break up the horrible monotony of it all.  Birds rested in the trees above, and their soft songs and trills were among the many sounds that flooded his hearing.  Rustling of bushes and weeds attested to the existence of small creatures in this forest, creatures which the ForbiddenForest was curiously void of.

  Ah, that's it.  If this wasn't the forbidden forest then where was he?  He had never been in any other forest, as the Dursleys were not ones to hike, and if they had been it wasn't as if they'd actually invite him along with them.

  'Maybe I'm dreaming,' he thought, but dreams never had seemed as vivid as this before.  Unless this was a vision.  Although it was highly unlikely Voldemort would be in a place like this, much less send Harry dreams about it.

  'Maybe he wants you to go there,' a voice whispered in his mind.

  'Yeah, right,' he thought, 'As if I would fall for that one again.'

  Without any other options, Harry decided to stay where he was and think of  a way out of this place.  As nice as it seemed, he was well aware of the fact that some of the nicest seeming things were actually the most wretched.  Take Tom Riddle and Gildroy Lockhart for example, seemingly great guys who were in reality a murderous dark lord and a blithering idiot, respectively.        

  Harry sat down against the thick trunk of a tree and considered his situation.  'OK.  I'm in a forest, a nonmagical forest I'd wager, without food, a weapon of any sort, or my wand.  I have no clue whether I am awake, and if so how I could possibly have gotten here.  I am apparently alone, and this forest may be anywhere from a mile to hundreds of miles long.

  'Great, I'm doomed.'  As soon as the thought had crossed his mind, a new sound assaulted his ears.  It was much more sinister than the rustlings and calls which the animals had made, in fact Harry would bet his broomstick (which technically he couldn't as Umbridge had locked it away the previous school year) that this sound was not made by an animal at all.

  He stared into the trees, hoping to make out the outline of a deer or...  Well just anything other than what he'd suspected he had heard.  But as his luck seemed to hold out just as well as it had for the past five years, his fears were confirmed.  It was a man coming through the trees towards him, his entire figure shrouded with a great, black cloak.

  Now this would not be as frightening to Harry had it not been for the fact that there was a dark lord out for his hide, along with said lord's minions.  He was defenseless; nothing he could possibly do would be able to stop the Lord Voldemort from killing him on the spot.  Well, that is nothing except the fact that Voldemort was a sadist and would most likely want to torture him into a slow and painful death.

  The figure was not much more than twenty feet from him now, but it appeared as though he had not noticed Harry yet, until he turned directly towards him, his face hidden by the cloak's hood.  To Harry's utter amazement the man staggered, as if surprised by his mere presence.

  "Potter?" asked a strangely familiar voice loathingly, as the hood was lowered to reveal one of the last people Harry would have expected- or wanted to see.

  "Professor Snape?  Where are we?"

  The dark haired professor sighed, running a hand through his lank, shoulder length tresses.  "I don't know, Potter," he ground out.

  "How can you not know?"

  "Maybe the same way in which you do not," Snape growled glaring at the younger wizard.

  'Great,' thought Harry, 'Now I am not only stuck in the middle of a forest without food, water, shelter and a weapon of any kind, I am also stuck with the man (as if Snape could be considered one) who killed my godfather.'

   Snape himself looked as though he could use a few more meals.  His face was thin and pale, the skin marred slightly by a small, bleeding cut across his cheek, probably obtained by being struck by a branch.  His eyes held dark purple bags under them, and his robes were dirty and scruffy as Harry expected his own were.

  "Well, sir, what do you propose we do?" Harry sneered slightly, wanting nothing more than a wand so he could curse Snape into the afterlife.      

  "We will be doing nothing.  You will be silent while I think of a way out of this mess," Snape snapped, although Harry had the sneaking suspicion that the wizard had already had plenty of time to think things over and was just trying to save himself from the embarrassment of admitting that he was just as clueless as Harry.

  After a long moment's pause, in which Harry simply watched a droplet of blood trickle down Snape's cheek, half wishing it was more and half wondering at the sight of Snape bleeding, Snape broke the silence.  "Do you remember anything at all before you got here?"

  Harry's face screwed up in thought as he considered that.  "I was in bed," he said thoughtfully, "Thinking… (He ignored the snort this comment triggered.) I closed my eyes… And that's it."

  "Then we've got to be dreaming," the Potions master realized, "Neither of us can remember anything after lying down to sleep…  But it just doesn't make sense…"  His voice drifted off into silence.

  "Erm, sir, what doesn't make sense?" Harry prodded, shocked that his teacher would actually divulge the fact that something had stumped him.

  Snape started as if he'd forgotten Harry's presence.  "I don't know if you haven't noticed, Potter, but we're having the same dream.  That's not exactly a normal occurrence, don't you agree?

  "We need to wake up Potter."

-.-

  "We need to wake up Potter."  Severus' own words echoed in his head as he woke up from his fitful rest. 

  Strangely enough, he had slept through the night without having any nightmares, or rather memories.  He groaned softly as he glanced as his clock: 8:35, he was late for breakfast.  Severus flung aside the covers, which just so happened to be green and silver, much like the rest of his quarters, and rolled of the bed.  He pulled on his silk, black bathrobe, stepped into a pair of slippers and groggily made his way to the bathroom.  His sleep may have been void of nightmares, but it certainly had not been restful.

  He washed his face, got dressed, and left his rooms for the Great Hall.  It would not do for him to miss breakfast altogether, as he hardly got enough food as it was.  And he remembered the last time he had passed out due to lack of nutrition… Poppy forced him to stay in the hospital wing for a week, even though all he needed was a few good meals.  No, it wouldn't do at all.

  Snape stalked down the empty hallways, reveling in the peacefulness that only the holidays could bring.  Summer holidays had begun barely a week prior and Severus had not been all too sad to see the children go, well that is all with the exception of the Slytherins, his own house.  In his heart he had always seen the Slytherins as his own children, even if he'd never admit it out loud.  It was his job, as their Head of House, to protect them and he took this responsibility very serious.  Many of the other teachers were angered at Snape's seemingly biased relationship towards his children, but if he was biased in their favour it was only because of their prejudices against the Slytherins. 

  In fact, contrary to what the other teachers and students believed, he did punish his house for misconduct, just not in front of the other houses or teachers.  He was their only ally in a school of enemies, and he was not about to lose that relationship he had so painstakingly constructed with them. 

  Absorbed in his thoughts as he was, he had nearly passed the Great Hall.  Stopping abruptly, Severus pushed the large oak doors open and strode into the Great Hall, gaining odd looks from the teachers who were staying during the summer, which included Sprout, McGonagall, Trelawney, Vector and Flitwick.  He sneered at them and snagged an empty seat on Minerva McGonagall's left, the furthest seat from Trelawney.  This morning the enchanted ceiling was a bright sunny sky, reflecting the weather outside.

  Severus piled eggs and bacon on his plate and grabbed a slice of toast, even though he sincerely doubted he would be able to stomach it all.  As he nibbled on the toast he felt the Headmaster's sharp gaze fall on him. 

  "Ah, good morning, Severus," the old man said brightly from Minerva's right.

  "Good morning, Albus."

  "What happened to your face?"  Albus asked.

  Snape set the toast onto his plate and raised a hand to his face feeling a thin slash across his cheek.  He was rushing through the forest.  He had no idea how he had gotten there, where he was, or where he was going, but walking felt so much better than doing nothing at all.  A branch smacked his cheek, the skin stinging slightly.  He had not noticed it there in his haste to move.  He pulled his hood up over his face in the event that he might not be alone.  Severus Snape was a man with many enemies, all of which who would gladly take the chance to kill him if they found him here, weaponless as he was.

  He soon found himself stepping into a clearing, a round treeless area which was less dark than the forest around it.  And suddenly he knew he was not alone.  He glanced around the clearing and then noticed a skinny, unruly black haired boy sitting against a tree.  He staggered as his eyes caught sight of the glasses and lightning-bolt scar.   "Potter?" 

  "I cut myself shaving."  Severus lied quickly.

  "Is that why you have a five-o'clock shadow?"  McGonagall pointed out.  Severus did not reply, glaring at her and returning to his toast.

  "You look tired," Dumbledore put in.

  "I didn't sleep well," Severus snapped.  'As if that wasn't obvious,' he thought exasperatedly.

  "Bad dream?" the older wizard inquired.

  "Something like that."

-.-

TBC…

A/N: Well here's the first chapter, hope you guys all like it!  Please review as it makes poor starving writers like me immensely happy….