Snape hushed him and subconsciously, his hand curled around the fabric of the potion's master robes and he held it tight, drawing a breath.
"It's not real," he murmured, as if trying to convince himself.
"No. What is real is that you are here with me, safe," Snape assured him.
Several moments of silence followed, until Harry eventually straightened up, searching for his glasses.
Picking them up from the bedside table, Snape slid them onto the boy's nose, and Harry glanced around the bedroom, as if searching for any evidence of what had gone before.
"It has been some time since you have suffered such ephialtes," his guardian said, evenly.
Harry simply nodded, still clinging tight to the man's robes.
"It appeared particularly harrowing. Do you wish to tell me what it was about?" Snape enquired.
He hesitated only briefly before responding.
"I… I was right here in this room… but the door wouldn't open and Hermione was shouting me but I couldn't… I couldn't get out. And then when I did she wasn't there…"
Snape said nothing, and simply listened.
"And you… you were there. But you sent me away, you told me to leave," Harry mumbled.
"I would do no such thing," he reassured him. "It was not real."