Nightmare

Favo de Mel

Rating: PG
Genres: Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 4
Published: 16/01/2004
Last Updated: 16/01/2004
Status: completed

Hermione comforts Harry after he runs to her in the middle of the night, and leaves a frustrated Lavender and Parvati to wonder.

Chapters

1. Nightmare

1. Nightmare

Disclaimer (I remembered to put one!!!): I don’t own Harry Potter, the wonderful

J.K. Rowling does.

A/N: I’ll be posting most of my fanfiction here today if I can, although not in the order I’ve written them, otherwise Nine Months would be the last. This is one of my favorites, so I thought it’d be the first one… Enjoy.

Nightmare

No.

He was sitting up in his bed, the last razored slivers of the nightmare spinning off into the void, unable to breach the waking world.

His shoulders trembled as he panted, fists clenched, body drenched in cold sweat that soaked through his bedclothes, head feeling as though someone had split it open with a hammer.

No. He would not scream.

It was a promise he had made himself long ago. Whenever the dreams returned, and they always did return no matter how long their absence, he would bear them.

He would suffer them silently. It gave him some feeling of control, and even though it might be illusory, he scarcely cared. After all, he could not stop the dreams, so he needed some way to deal with them.

And he would not scream.

Shots of the nightmare flashed in his mind, and it all came rushing back to him...

And then the tears came.

* *

*

Hermione woke to a loud pounding on the door; sitting bolt upright in the dark, she clutched the covers of her four-poster to her chest with one hand, and pulled the curtains open with the other.

She glanced sideways at the magical alarm clock on her night table; it read ‘Too bloody early to be up, go back to SLEEP!!!’

“What in the world?”

Still the pounding persisted, and Hermione watched worriedly as her dorm mates began to react; Parvati started muttering curses behind her curtains, and Lavender got up and crossed the room to the door.

Who could it possibly be at such an hour?

She couldn’t see who it was from her position on the bed, but she needn’t wait too long as Lavender opened the door, spluttered an indignant “Harry! What are you-” and then the figure ran into the room, hurtling itself at a surprised Hermione and throwing his arms around her in a tight embrace.

Hermione blinked, shocked.

Harry, she now knew, was shaking violently as he clutched her desperately to him, burying his face in her neck.

“Harry, what...,” she whispered finally, placing her hands in his head and running her fingers soothingly through his hair.

‘He probably just had a nightmare...,’ she mused; he certainly seemed to have them very often.

‘But then again,’ her heart reminded her, ‘he’s never ran to you like this before...

That was true. Hermione knew he was usually tormented by nightmares, though never because he told her; he never mentioned them, but she knew he had them all the same-the enormous black bags under his eyes in the morning were proof enough of Harry’s lack of sleep (okay, fine, Ron had also told her about it).

Harry was like that; always putting up an air of confidence and strength, hiding his own pain and fears to try and keep his dear ones from worrying too much.

Always playing the role of the hero for their sake and Merlin, did she love him for it...

It wasn’t like Harry to run to his girlfriend at a moment like this, so it really worried her.

Her worry increased, however, when she felt something wet on her shoulder; she had enough sense to grab her wand from the night stand without letting go of Harry, pull the drapes closed and mutter a shielding charm around her bed to keep her curious dorm mates from snooping. Catching on an annoyed groan from Parvati, Hermione also cast a sound-proof charm. Finally encased in their cocoon, she turned her attention back to Harry; he was holding her so tight it almost hurt.

“Harry...,” she whispered, but he wouldn’t budge.

Placing her wand next to her on the bed, Hermione used both hands to pull him back a little, so she would be able to look at him. And she gasped.

Tears. His face was wet with them, and every muscle in his body seemed to scream with tension.

Hermione had never, in the entire six years of their friendship, the last of which they’d been a couple, seen Harry cry. Ever.

He’d always been very guarded except where herself and Ron were concerned, and even with them he tended to mask his feelings; she blamed the Dursley’s for giving him such a rotten childhood, and was still awed at the beautiful person Harry had become in spite of it.

Hermione had always wished for him to completely open up with her but she knew it couldn’t be rushed, so she had been patient; still, this desperate tugging, the anguish he was suddenly displaying and the tears running down his face were something she hoped she would never see again. Not because she thought it was a burden, but because she hated it when he was in pain; she never wanted him to hurt, and she wished there was some way she could relieve him from it all.

Harry looked like he was about to break down with sobs again; he was looking at her with relieved yet pained eyes, and his lower lip was trembling as the tears slowly made their way down his face.

“You’re fine...,” he finally whispered, bringing his hands up to touch her face.

Hermione furrowed her eyebrows, confused.

‘He was dreaming about me?’ she thought, and then said softly aloud, “Of course I’m fine, love...,” she placed her hands on his cheeks, wiping them gently with her thumbs, “It was only a bad dream...”

Letting out a strangled sob, he gathered her gently on his lap, wrapping his arms around her and burying his face on her hair. Hermione, in turn, circled his shoulders with her own arms, and tucked her chin in between his shoulder and neck.

“It was horrible, ‘Mione...” he said, in a little voice, “he had you and I couldn’t help you... I watched him kill you and I couldn’t do anything...”

Hermione closed her eyes for a second, tightening her hold on him, and then raised her face a little to whisper in his ear.

“It was a horrible dream, love, but it was only a dream... I’m fine...” she leaned back, taking his arm from around her and placing his hand on her chest, “See? Feel my heartbeat, Harry, I’m here, with you, and I’m not going anywhere...”

He sighed and then hugged her again, touching his clammy forehead to hers and closing his eyes; they stayed in that position for a few minutes, Hermione’s hand curling lightly around the hair on the back of his head.

“Hermione?” he breathed, startling her out of her thoughts, but she didn’t open her eyes.

“Yeah?”

“I’m...” he trailed off, looking down. “I think I’m scared...”

Hermione’s eyes flew open and she gaped at him openly.

“What?”

Harry bit his lip, blushing.

“I’m scared that something’s going to happen to you and I’m not going to be strong enough to stop it.... I’m scared that by loving you I’m putting you in danger, and I’m scared that you’ll hate me for it... I’m scared of being alone... I’m so in love with you, Hermione... I know I haven’t been the ideal friend or boyfriend, I have kept so much of myself from you, but I don’t want to face this by myself anymore... I need you with me, love, although I’ve been too blind to see you’ve always been...”

He trailed off, looking at her; she was sitting there with a dazed look on her face. Suddenly embarrassed, Harry dropped his gaze to the bed, feeling the blood rise to his cheeks.

They didn’t say anything for a while.

“Harry?”

Harry raised his eyes back to her. “Hmm?”

“I think I’m going to kiss you now.”

He barely had time to blink before Hermione covered his lips with her own, pressing herself to his chest and twining her hands in his hair. Harry responded immediately by snaking his arms around her waist and kissing her back.

After a few breathless minutes she pulled back and began raining kisses all over his face, starting with his mouth, his cheeks, his eyelids and finally the jagged scar on his forehead, where she lingered for a while. She could feel her own tears, barely leashed until now, escaping in greater numbers, stinging her eyes, dripping off her chin.

“I love you too, you git, and you have been the ideal boyfriend and friend...” she croaked, “I’m very proud of you, Harry, and I love that you can face your fears and share yourself with me like this. I have waited for a long time, yes, but I would have waited for as long as it took and more, you’re worth that much... and don’t be scared of ever being alone, love, because that is never going to happen as long as I am here... and I will always be.”

Hermione ended by kissing him again, although much more slowly and sweetly this time.

When at last Hermione pulled away from Harry to look him in the eyes, she knew there was no need to tell him how much she loved him. It was there in the light and the glow and brilliant color of her eyes, and reflected with equal radiance in his. She whispered it to him anyway and felt an equal thrill as he told her the same.

*The End*

A/N: The first part I borrowed from a chapter of Mark McKinnon’s story, ‘The Shadow Chronicles’ (Mark, I’m your biggest fan!!!), and the very last one (When at last Hermione.... etc) from J. Austin Wilde’s ‘Chasing the Wind’. Wonderful stories, they are; both about Ranma ½, so if you like the series, I highly recommend them. Ask me the webpages if you want.