Nightmares and Truths

The ink black sky was clear and full of stars, the moon hung low in the sky casting silver light on the sloping hills below. Flashes of light and the sounds of battle echoed through the empty countryside. A group of masked figures clad in black advanced on various others shouting words that would make no sense to passersby. Only a witch or wizard would recognize the incantations of spells.

In the midst of the fighting, three teenagers stood just behind those opposing the Death Eaters waiting in silence. In the middle, stood a tall raven-haired man in glasses, bright emerald fire behind the round lenses. A lightning bolt-shaped scar donned his forehead, just visible beneath his hair. To his right, stood a petite young woman with strong toffee brown eyes, her curls of deep chocolate catching in the breeze. To the young man’s left stood a lanky ginger-haired wizard, his cautious blue eyes scanning the battlefield. All three stood, wands drawn in quiet anticipation.

The line of witches and wizards battling the masked criminals gained the upper hand forcing the opposing army to separate in two. The Order of the Phoenix pushed forward to open a path in the middle, forging the trio a path to the hill beyond. An older man, having just overtaken a masked foe turned to the trio, “Follow me, now!” he yelled, transforming into a large black dog and bolting through the opening.

The black-haired man turned to his companions, “Ready?” he questioned, the muscles of his jaw taut as a bow. The woman nodded, eyes fixed on the path; the other young man nodded his acquiescence as well. Together, the teenage wizards raced through the overgrown grass, following the dog up the sloping hill to a large manor, the sound of the battle becoming a faint echo behind them.

The trio reached the lawn and slowed to a stop where the dog sat, eyes fixed on the abandoned house ahead. “Sirius,” the young wizard said, his jade eyes scanning the windows of the old house. The dog once again became a man, his shaggy black hair falling around his shoulders, his dark eyes serious. “He’s here, inside most likely,” Sirius informed them quietly, his voice a gruff bark. “So in we go,” the young woman said sneaking a glance at her be-speckled companion. “Bloody hell, we’re going in,” agreed the redhead. Sirius Black turned to them, the manor at his back, “Harry, Ron, Hermione,” he paused, his dark eyes glowing in the moonlight. “Watch each other’s backs, be careful. We’ll follow as soon as we take care of the bastards down there,” he continued, his eyes coming to rest on his godson.

Harry dropped his gaze from the house to the older man in front of him, “Sirius,” he said quietly, his deep voice shaking. Hermione put a small hand on his forearm, “We’ll be fine, Sirius. The coward has nowhere to hide,” she voiced defiantly. A smile lit up Sirius’ face, “That’s what I wanna hear. I’ll see you all after,’ he said putting a hand on Harry’s shoulder. Now angry green eyes me his, “For your parents,” Sirius said his eyes searching his godson’s face, Harry nodded as the shaggy black dog bounded back down the steep hill to the battlefield.

Not another word passed between the three friends as they moved across the vast lawn towards the house. Harry led the way flanked by Ron and Hermione, the rotted steps of the front porch squeaked loudly as the trio neared the door. Suddenly, all three dived to the side as the door blasted off the hinges. A harsh laugh met their ears as they scrambled to their feet, the now shattered door lay at the foot of the steps. The young wizards retreated a ways from the house as a snake-faced man in billowing black robes emerged from the dark doorway, his red eyes gleaming with malice. Lord Voldemort stood before them on the steps of his deceased muggle father’s home smiling his lipless smile followed only by Peter Pettigrew.

Harry stood wand at the ready, anger flooding his veins as he prepared for battle. On either side of him, his best friends mirrored him, eyes locked on the dark wizard. “So, you’ve come, pity. You’ve rushed to your death, Potter,” Voldemort said, his drawling voice laced with amusement. “No more words, Tom. Let’s end this once and for all,” Harry spoke evenly, “For the lives you’ve taken and the family’s you have destroyed,” his voice strong and unafraid. Voldemort’s inhuman red eyes flashed with anger as he took a step forward, Harry followed Voldemort’s lead taking a step forward. “Ron, Hermione, don’t interfere. Protect yourselves,” Harry called over his shoulder. Hermione moved to stand beside Ron, her wand lowered to her side, “Harry,” she began, but words failed her. Ron picked up for her, “End this, but come back to us, mate,” he said to his friend. “Wormtail, it is time,” Voldemort ordered, his smile returning as he came to a stop yards before The-Boy-Who-Lived. Wormtail turn toward the house, and called in a hoarse voice, “Your master summons you, kill his enemies!”

Masks and robes discarded, five Death Eaters emerged from the backside of the house, wands drawn and twisted smiles adorned their faces. Ron felt Hermione tense at his side when Antonin Dolohov winked and blew a kiss her way. Among the approaching dark wizards was Bellatrix Lestrange, her maniacal laughter ringing in the night as she came to a stop beside Dolohov. Rodolphus Lestrange followed his wife; an evil sneer escaped him as he locked eyes with Ron. Lucius Malfoy fell in step next; his pale blonde hair turned vibrant silver in the darkness. Walden Macnair stalked into view, his bright black eyes gleaming maliciously as he came to a stop beside Malfoy.

Harry stopped, eyes blazing “What is this? You kept your favorites close by to kill me for you?” he demanded, his wand sparking. The Death Eaters came to a stop to the left of the old manor house forcing Hermione and Ron to move to Harry’s right. The half-crescent of enemies stilled, waiting for the battle to begin. Voldemort sneered, “They, Potter, are to take care of your firneds while I kill you. No one but I will have that honor,” he chuckled. Harry chanced a look at his friends, “Don’t worry about us, Harry. Just destroy him,” Hermione whispered, sending a silent stunner, knocking Bellatrix to the ground.

Hermione and Ron took off, running to the rear of the house, jets of green light just missing them as the disappeared from view. The Death Eaters followed, led by Bellatrix, also disappearing behind the house with Wormtail in tow. Harry’s heart began to thunder against his ribs, this is it, time to end this. Ron, Hermione, please be careful, he thought as he dodged Voldemort’s first Cruciatus Curse. Harry crouched, muscles tensed, baiting Voldemort to cast another spell to initiate priori icantatem. “Avada Kedavra!” rang through the darkness as two beams of green illuminated the dark, broken windows of the old house. Voldemort’s killing curse met Harry’s, the connected wands shook with the power of the two wizards.

“You cannot win, Potter. You will fall this night,” Voldemort screamed, laughing as he brought Harry to his knees, the spell almost touching the tip of Harry’s wand. Harry closed his eyes; images began to flash against his eyelids as his heart pounded in his chest. His life flew by in a whirlwind of images, giving him the strength he desperately needed. Harry’s wand began to shake violently as his loved ones’ faces entered his thoughts. Mum, Dad, Hermione, Ron, Sirius, Lupin, the Weasleys, Hagrid, he thought quickly, gripping his wand in both hands.

Harry opened his eyes and stood, his power flowing into his wand sending the spell back at Voldemort. “No, it is you who will die tonight,” Harry voiced angrily taking powerful steps towards Voldemort. Harry continued to push against the power, Voldemort’s eyes flashed with fear as the spell reached the tip of his wand, causing the tip to catch fire. Harry stopped his advance leaving two feet between himself and the Dark Lord. “It’s over, Tom. Love has won,” Harry spoke, his magic shaking him to his very core. Harry broke the connection and called “Avada Kedavra!” and Voldemort fell to the grass, finally defeated.

Harry fell to his knees, exhaustion taking over as a loud scream ripped through the night. The Order of the Phoenix raced up the hill and toward the scream, having finally won the battle in the valley below. “Hermione!” Harry cried, scrambling to his feet and running towards the house. Harry came to a stop, taken aback at the scene before him. The Death Eaters lay almost covered by the overgrown grass of the once expansive lawn stunned and bound. Ron knelt by the back porch, Hermione lay beneath him Dolohov lay dead mere feet away. Ron had his wand trained on the crying form of Bellatrix Lestrange, who stood screaming, arms outstretched in the air. Kingsley and Lupin took her away as others in the Order levitated the downed Death Eaters out of sight. Now only Harry, Ron and the limp form of Hermione remained in the backyard of the Riddle House.

Harry lowered himself to his knees on Hermione’s other side taking her warm hand in his own. Ron raised his worried eyes to Harry, “Dolohov, he hit her with a spell just as she overtook Lestrange. I killed him, but I wasn’t fast enough,” he explained lowering his head. Harry felt his heart drop to his stomach, “Ron, you did wonderfully,” came the low murmur of Hermione’s voice. Both young men met the eyes of their injured friend, “Hermione, he’s gone. It’s over,” Harry said to her, despair circulating throughout his body. Hermione squeezed his hand, smiled lazily and whispered, “You’re free, Harry.”

Tears threatened to fall from the eyes of the young men, but both held them back. Hermione’s voice quivered as she spoke to her redheaded friend, “Ron, you’re my brother and I love you. Be sure to treat Luna right.” Ron bit back a sob and replied, “I love you, Herms,” laying a watery kiss on her forehead as the tears began to fall from his eyes. Hermione slowly turned her head to Harry, his bright green eyes meeting her opaque brown eyes. “Harry, I love you. I wish I had said it sooner, but I do, more than anything,” she said quietly, silent tears leaking from the corners of her eyes. Harry felt his heart swell and break, “I love you, Mione,” he whispered to her laying a kiss on her lips. As he pulled away her grip on their hands went limp.

“HERMIONE!” Harry screamed, jerking away and sitting up in bed, his body covered in a light sheen of sweat. His wary green eyes swept over his room, he wasn’t in Little Hangleton but his flat in London. He heard the loud sound of running feet before his door was thrown open and there in his doorway stood Hermione Jean Granger, now twenty years old and very much alive. Her toffee brown locks fell in soft curls around her worried face as she ran to him. “Harry, what’s wrong?” she questioned alarmed as she climbed into his waiting arms clad in red pajama pants with snitches decorating the legs and a black tank top.

Harry shook his head and buried his face in the crook of her neck, breathing in her vanilla scent. “You’re okay, you’re here,” he repeated over and over, his breath coming in short pants. Hermione ran her hands through his hair and attempted to calm him with soothing words. The pair remained like this for awhile, only when Harry’s breathing slowed did Hermione move her hands to his back, making slow circles. Hermione waited, for the vulnerability to was away in the memory of the nightmare. Harry breathed deeply holding Hermione so close, he could feel her heartbeat. What am I to say? Hermione, I dreamed that you died because keeping my feelings for you to myself is driving me insane, Merlin; Harry thought finally shaking off the images of the dream.

With a loud sigh, he pulled away a fraction, not meeting the caring eyes he knew were searching for his. Hermione’s ministrations never ceased as she waited for him to speak. She took in the delicate scars on his shoulders, arms and upper chest. The war had been kind to him, injury wise, for those scars are all Harry’s body bore physically from the war with Voldemort three years prior. Since then, he’s become more open and outgoing, only times like these remind me that he’s still dealing with everything, Hermione thought to herself. Still tall and lean, with the same jet-black hair that he always wore a little long to cover his scar Harry had become a professional Quidditch player. In their current position, Hermione could feel his muscles stretched with tension. C’mon Harry, talk to me, she thought finally finding his jade eyes had risen to meet hers.

“Mione,” Harry said, shifting his body to lean against the headboard, Hermione moved to sit between his outstretched legs her back against his chest. She waited for him to continue, his strong arms encircled her waist and his scruffy chin came to rest atop her hair and he sighed. “It’s the dream I’ve been having ever since the final battle. It starts off fine, but ends so badly, I fail everyone, Hermione,” he fibbed quietly. It’s about time he told me the truth about this dream, Hermione thought mildly. She turned her head to meet his eyes “Harry, I know that isn’t what’s happening in your dream. If so, it wouldn’t affect you so. Is it something you don’t think you can tell me? Because you can, you should know that,” she stated, her voice soft but serious. Conflict filled Harry’s mind, the careful façade of a smile fell from his face and he grew quiet. Can I do this? Should I? I can tell Hermione anything, time for that Gryffindor courage, Potter, Harry thought.

Hermione took one of Harry’s large hands in both of her own and opened his palm to her as she waited. She trailed her petite fingers over his skin, hoping to relax him, his breath tickling her neck. Hermione had grown patient of Harry’s moods and simply waited for him to come to her or speak first instead of attempting to force it out of him. “I…,” came his gruff voice at her ear, “I dreamed, I’ve been dreaming that you died, Hermione. You and Ron went up against Voldemort’s best followers; together you subdued four of them. You had just overtaken Bellatrix but Dolohov came at you from behind before Ron could do anything. You died, on the lawn,” Harry trailed off, lowering his head to her shoulder. Hermione felt his arms tighten around her as she spoke soothingly, his hand still in hers. “Harry, I’m right here. I’ll never leave you,” she spoke quietly, her voice catching as she heard his strangled sigh. A few seconds passed and Hermione heard a low murmur from behind her that sounded a lot like “there’s more.” Hermione leaned against him even further and said, “Go ahead, Harry.” Harry took a breath, “Ron and I were with you until…, anyway, you told Ron he was your brother and you love him, for him to treat Luna right. Then you spoke to me,” he whispered softly.

He’s nervous, Hermione thought before voicing aloud, “What did I say? Harry ran his free hand through his raven locks and buried his head in her hair as he spoke. His words were lost to Hermione’s ears, sensing his discomfort she turned and sat on his pajama clad legs facing him. “Harry, you can tell me,” she said her hands resting on his tense bare shoulders. Harry met her eyes and replied, “You told me you were in love with me.” Hermione taken aback, put a hand to her mouth, Harry hung his head his mind reeling. Hermione put a finger under his chin and lifted his head until his nervous eyes met hers.

Hermione leaned in and laid a small chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth and asked, “What did you say back?” Harry swallowed, “I said I loved you too,” there, I finally said it, he thought to himself, his stomach knotting as he lowered his eyes from her gaze. Then he heard something he didn’t expect, Hermione began to laugh softly. Harry raised his face and took a look at the laughing woman before him. Her bright chocolate eyes gleamed with mirth, the moonlight turning her mahogany curls to a soft black. Her mouth covered by a delicate hand, her slim frame shaking from laughter. She’s beautiful, from head to toe, Harry thought in awe. “Why the laughter, Hermione?” he asked her giggling causing a broad grin to stretch across his face. “It’s just not how I planned it,” she replied calming her laughter. Harry’s confused expression urged her to take his hands in hers.

The mirth now absent from her gaze, replace by a calm, complete seriousness. “Harry James, I do love you. So very much, I’ve never said because there wasn’t any way for me to be sure that what’s between us is love or friendship. Yes, I, the brain of this outfit, didn’t know for sure. We’ve always been this way, easy as breathing. Though, I’ve always been sure of what I feel for you,” she explained, her twinkling eyes never leaving the joy-filled green orbs behind Harry’s glasses.

Harry’s breath hitched as she took his face in her hands, fingertips brushing the hair at the nape of his neck. “Mione,” Harry murmured, wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling her closer until only a hairsbreadth remained between them. Hermione felt his fingertips create circles on her lower back; her heart began to race as she waited for him to speak. A moment later, Harry smiled softly and said “I’ve loved you, probably longer than I’ve realized. Not until this dream that tore me up inside every single time did I realize that you’re my world. The only person in my life who’s never doubted me, you’ve always been there. Although, that isn’t why I’m in love with you,” he continued quietly, his mouth now only centimeters from her ear.

Hermione waited for him to continue, but Harry was now laying small butterfly kisses along her neck. She responded only by tilting her head to give him better access, then the kiss ceased. Hermione opened her eyes, her abdomen aflame as she met his eyes shining with love but darkened to a deep green. His mouth formed a small smirk, Oh, Potter, you play a dangerous game, she thought matching his smirk with a mischievous grin of her own.

Harry’s eyes widened as the small hands on his face pulled him in, the unique scent that was Hermione overpowering him as her lips crashed against his. Tongues and teeth clashed as both Harry and Hermione lost themselves in a dance as old as time. Together, for the first time, they reached the peak the likes of which neither had ever experienced. Later on, the sun began to shine through the window of Harry’s room as the lovers lay in a tangle of limbs basking in the afterglow as dawn arrived.

Hermione lay on Harry’s chest, legs entangled with his dozing softly, her head tucked under Harry’s chin. Harry’s powerful arm gently encircled Hermione bare back, his face relaxed contentment. Hermione laid a soft kiss over Harry’s heart and tilted her head to catch his eye. His soft smile provoking one of her one, “I love you, Mione,” Harry whispered kissing her forehead. “I love you,” she replied, stretching to kiss his cheek.

The sun now high in the sky poured through the windows bathing the room in warm sunlight. Hermione awoke slowly, rolling over and sitting up in the large bed, drawing the navy blue sheets around her bare body. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as her mind flashed to the night before. As thoughts of Harry entered her mind, she noticed the absence of his warm body beside her.

Hermione pulled herself out of bed and slipped on one of Harry’s white long-sleeve button downs. The shirt fell mid-thigh on her as she padded to the door of Harry’s room. The smell of cooking bacon filled her nostrils, causing Hermione’s stomach to illicit a loud growl. “Always taking care of me,” she murmured as she made her way passed her room and to the kitchen. Harry stood at the stove, barefoot, his black sweatpants riding low on his hips. His black hair in disarray as he flipped bacon with ease on to a plate loaded with eggs and toast.

With a wave of his right hand the dishes began to wash themselves and he went to the fridge, poured a glass of orange juice and set the plate and glass on the table. Hermione looked on with a fond smile from the doorway. Harry turned to her and smiled, “Breakfast?” he asked pulling the chair out for her. Hermione ate while Harry fixed a plate for himself.

Harry looked up from his empty plate to find beautiful toffee eyes focused on him. “What, babe?” he asked, Hermione smiled and replied, “You never told me why you love me.” Harry got to his feet and held out a hand, Hermione took it, once on her feet Harry pulled her close and began to dance the pair of them around the room. “Well, I love you because you’re courageous, loyal, and the most loving woman I’ve ever known. Most importantly, you’ve always seen me and loved me for me,” he said quietly swaying to the rhythm of their beating hearts. Hermione felt her pulse begin to race, his words warming her to the tips of her toes. “Harry,” she spoke softly, her arms still around his neck. Harry put a finger to her lips to silence her next word and said, “I look forward to hearing you say my name like that for the rest of my life.” Harry leaned down and kissed her lips, sealing the promise of forever between them.