After an hour of staring at the ceiling, Hermione decided that she was thirsty (whether she really was or she just wanted an excuse to go by Harry's room even Hermione wasn't sure). She folded back the covers and placed her feet on the cold floor. She stood up and walked out of her room and down the darkened hallway. She slowed as she neared the room Harry was in. She stood at the entrance to his room, the closed door staring back at her. She wanted so badly to open that door, even to just stick her head in the room and catch a glimpse of him. She placed her hand on the door knob and was about to turn it when she thought better of it. How strange would it be if Harry woke up and saw her staring at him? She removed her hand from the knob and silently scolded herself as she turned from the door and went down the stairs.
Hermione usually hated even leaving her room in the middle of the night. Her house was so dark and empty, it gave her the creeps. But for some reason, she wasn't as scared now. Maybe because she knew that Harry was right upstairs, and if there was a problem, she knew he would be right there immediately. It gave her a great sense of comfort. However, even though she wasn't as scared as usual, it didn't mean she wanted to dwell in her dark kitchen longer than she needed to. She gulped down her glass of water and quickly went back upstairs.
Hermione got to the top of the stairs and was faced with that door again. She put her hand on the knob once more; she just couldn't help herself. After debating for a moment, she allowed herself to slowly open the door and poked her head in. As she suspected, she couldn't really see anything because it was so dark, but she could hear him breathing. For some reason it gave her chills. You're hopeless, she reproached herself. However, after listening for a little while, she noticed that his breathing wasn't calm and melodic like it should be if he was sleeping peacefully. He was breathing very heavily. She thought it was odd, but she figured that could possibly have been how Harry normally breathed when he slept (when was the last time that Hermione had listened to Harry breathe?). She shrugged slightly and started pulling her head out of the room. She stopped abruptly when she heard him call out, "No!"
Hermione pulled the door open all the way, and quickly padded across the room to Harry's bed. He was turning back and forth, muttering, "No! Don't!" Beads of sweat were rolling down his forehead. Hermione was beginning to get scared. She knew she had to do something. She started gently shaking him and saying his name. His turning became more violent before he finally jolted awake. He sat up quickly and shouted, "Stop!"
"Harry," Hermione soothed him gently, rubbing his back while trying to keep her own nerves in check. "It's okay. It was just a dream."
Harry looked at Hermione, realizing she was there. The fear that clouded his beautiful eyes was subsiding as he gasped for breath. He didn't say anything, so Hermione gave him a shaky smile. They just stared at each other for a moment.
"Are you all right?" Hermione asked, furrowing her brow in concern. Harry looked away.
"It was awful," he whispered, more to himself than to Hermione, as he pictured the whole thing again, but he didn't go any further. He wouldn't tell Hermione what his dream was about. She wasn't going to pry, but it was obvious he'd been dreaming of Voldemort and the Final Battle. He'd had nightmares about it for as long as she could remember. He really was scared.
"It's okay," she soothed him again, this time allowing herself to hug him. He loosely wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his head on her shoulder. If only there wasn't so much fear and angst, this would have been a beautiful moment for Hermione.
They just sat there for a long time. Hermione continued rubbing Harry's back and whispered, "You're okay. Everything's going to be all right," over and over.
When it seemed that Harry had finally calmed down, Hermione reluctantly pulled away. They looked at each other awkwardly. Harry was the first to break the silence. "I'm sorry I woke you up."
"Don't worry about it," Hermione assured him with a smile. "I was up anyway," she finished slightly nervously. She failed to mention the fact that she was up because she wanted to watch him sleep, but she didn't think that would have been a good thing to tell him.
He laughed and said, "What would I do without you, Hermione?"
"I don't know," Hermione smiled. "You'd probably still be roaming the streets in your pajamas." Harry laughed in response, but didn't say anything. They fell into silence again. They looked at each other, smiled awkwardly, and looked away. When did silences become so uncomfortable?
"Well, I guess I should let you get back to sleep," Hermione said as she stood up. "'Night, Harry," she finished, and turned to leave.
"Hermione, wait," she heard Harry's voice say. She turned around again to see him still sitting up in his bed. She looked at him expectantly when he didn't speak right away, he looked embarrassed. "Don't go just yet, okay?"
Hermione's heart swelled. She hadn't really wanted to leave, but she didn't know what else to do. She would have loved to wait with him until he fell asleep. She would have loved to stay with him all night and just watch him sleep. She realized what she was thinking and wondered when she had become so creepy and stalker-like. She answered that question herself: when she realized she was in love with her best friend. She was about to tell him that she didn't think it was a good idea for her to stay with him (because she certainly didn't want to be held responsible for her actions. She doubted she would be able to control herself), but when she saw his face, she just couldn't do it. He looked like a frightened child who was eagerly waiting for admittance to his parents' bed after he'd had a nightmare about the boogie man. He looked so helpless. How could she possibly turn that down?
"I'll stay as long as you want me to," she answered. Merlin help her, she was going to need all the strength she could get now. He smiled gratefully and moved over to make room for her. She climbed into the bed next to him. They each lay on their sides, facing each other. Neither said a word. Harry reached over and placed one of his hands lightly on her waist. They smiled. Hermione dreaded another awkward silence. However, this moment didn't feel so uncomfortable. This probably should have been the most uncomfortable situation they'd been in all night. Two best friends (a guy and a girl no less) in bed together in the middle of the night - that sounds pretty shady. Yet, this was probably the most comfortable Hermione had felt all night. She felt warm and safe. She saw him close his eyes and move his head a little to get more comfortable. Hermione rolled over to her other side. Harry pulled her closer to him, her back against his chest. He wrapped his arm tighter around her waist. Hermione put her hand on his. She could feel her face grow warmer and was grateful for the darkness. She smiled and closed her eyes. She never wanted this moment to end.
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