Stay

have heart my dear
we're bound to be afraid
even if it's just for a few days
making up for all this mess

run, snow patrol

Harry pressed his forehead against the cool window, his breath creating little clouds of fog. The cool glass felt refreshing against his scar, which had now taken to burning and twinging in pain on a constant basis. He brought his hand up to scribble meaningless pictures on the window from the fog he left with each breath. He remembered doing this a lot whenever the Dursley's had left him at Mrs. Figg's during the winter while they went off to elegant ski resorts... he remembered drawing one of her many cats...

Movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention and on impulse, he gripped his wand, which he had been holding already, tighter. His grip loosened, however, when he realised that it was only Hermione moving in her sleep. His eyes roved over to the other bed where Ron was peacefully snoring, his blanket tangled amongst his limbs. Harry turned back to the window, the orange glare of the lamppost outside shining through and casting the small room the three of them had checked into at some dingy inn, in a hue similar to that of the Gryffindor common room when the fire was just beginning to die out.

If Harry just closed his eyes, it could almost feel like they were back. Like he was back. The only home he ever knew...

He opened his eyes again, catching sight of some stray cat stalking past the window. He sighed, scolding himself at thinking of being safe at Hogwarts. He didn't even know if Hogwarts was safe anymore with Dumbledore... gone.

He had a task to do. He could not - would not - let his guard down. He wasn't in Hogwarts for a reason, and he had Ron and Hermione to look out for.

They all had to look out for each other. One always stood guard while the other two dared to hover over the edges of sleep.

A rustling noise met Harry's ears and he knew at once that Hermione was having another uneasy sleep. It seemed that Hermione suffered almost as much as Harry did in her sleep.

Almost.

Harry had half a mind to wake up Ron. He had seen the way Ron dealt with her when he was on watch and Hermione was having nightmares. He crouched down at her bedside, brushing hair off her face and whispering sweet reassurances - lies, Harry couldn't help thinking - of being able to return home soon. Harry was supposed to be asleep at these times, but he couldn't help but watch the exchange between the two.

Something always swelled up inside of him... no one ever did that to him when he had nightmares. And how did Ron soothe Hermione's troubles so easily? He doubted that he, Harry, would offer her that much comfort.

Harry was just about to settle on prodding Ron awake when Hermione suddenly whimpered in her sleep.

“Harry...!” she cried out softly.

The hairs on the back of Harry's neck stood on end as he heard his name and goosebumps appeared up and down his arms at the way she had said it.

Desperation. Fear.

“No...” she mumbled, her hands coming up in sleep to cover her ears. “Stop the screaming...”

Harry's heart pounded. What was she dreaming about? Her breathing had now become erratic. He tentatively stretched out a hand towards her.

“Hermione...” he softly called out, taking hold of her shoulder and giving it a gentle shake.

“No!” she said again, not waking and jerking out of Harry's touch. Tears streamed down her cheeks. Harry looked on in a panic. What was troubling her so much?

“Don't let him be dead, don't let him be dead, it's my fault if he's dead...”

Hearing this pleading, desperate mantra caused something inside of Harry to snap. A sense of cold familiarity descended upon him.

“Hermione!” he called out a little more sharply. “Wake up!” He flung himself next to her bed, grabbing hold of her hand. Her face was contorted in a face of great sadness or extreme pain. He shook her a little more. He hesitated but finally reached out and began stroking her hair away from her face.

“Wake up...” he whispered, desperation of his own laced in those two words.

She had to be safe. That was part of his job. She and Ron had to be safe...

Her eyes flew open, at first wide with fear, but upon seeing Harry, they squeezed shut in relief.

“Thank God...” she cried, grabbing hold of his neck and pulling him in for a suffocating hug. She sobbed against him and it was all Harry could do not to hold her close, stroke her hair, rub circles on her back and whisper to her.

“It'll be alright,” he shushed. “We—“ We'll be going home soon. He swallowed. He couldn't lie to her.

“We're together.”

He wondered how he had ever thought that only Ron was capable of doing this. This was like second nature. He would do anything to keep her safe.

“Ron and you... you were both gone...” she whispered, letting Harry lean back and look at her clearly but not letting go of his hand. She stared at their joined hands but suddenly let go. “I-I'm sorry. I'm being silly. It was only a dream... just...”

Harry took hold of her hand again. “No,” he said sternly. “I don't think you're silly. I... understand.” He, too, stared at their joined hands. At any other time this simple gesture might have been awkward between the two, but at this moment, it felt like the right thing to do. “I'm here. Ron's here. We're still together.” Harry cast a look at the other bed where Ron lay on his side, his back to them.

“Go back to sleep, okay?”

“Please stay,” she murmured.

A surge of protectiveness swept through Harry.

“Of course,” he answered.

As Hermione went back to sleep, he wondered if she had noticed the lack of snores coming from Ron's bed. He did, and he was glad that there hadn't been an interruption.

He needed that moment with Hermione.

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