You woke up with a start, breath coming in short gasps, heart pounding in your chest. The room felt stifling, your stomach churning, and you couldn't shake off the feeling of dread creeping up on you. Dark shapes seemed to dance at the edge of your vision, taunting you with their presence. The thought of trying to fall back asleep was out of the question.

Forcing yourself out of bed, you trudged down the hall, the chilly air prickling your skin and sending shivers down your spine. Your mind raced with possibilities, but none seemed as urgent as the need to find 'Alastor'. It was as if your body had a will of its own, guiding you towards his room with a sense of purpose.

Standing outside his door, you hesitated for a moment before pushing it open with a soft creak. Alastor lay there, oblivious to your presence, lost in a peaceful slumber. You gently shook him awake, his response sluggish at first, but he soon focused his bleary eyes on you. Despite his initial irritation, the concern in your expression gave him pause, and he sat up, ready to listen to whatever had brought you to him at this ungodly hour.

"What's wrong, my dear?"

His voice was rough with sleep, eyes barely open, but the flicker of concern in his gaze was unmistakable.