A/N: Hello there! I've just started writing FF and decided that it might be easier to work my way in on a real length story by writing a few drabbles or one-shots before I get there. I'm using a random word generator for prompts but if you want me to write about something in particular PM me or put it in a review! Also be sure to specify what pairing you want in it.

Depression

"Shhhh, it's ok Harry. Calm down, I'm right here." Ginny whispered in a soothing voice. She had been woken up by her husband's abrupt movements and screaming.

He had been like this since the war, and she couldn't blame him. He had seen things that no 17 year old boy should have to.

Harry's face was wet. He wasn't sure if it was sweat or tears and decided that it didn't matter. He couldn't take this anymore. It was driving him mad! The nightmares were never ending and what scared him is that he could do nothing about them. Under Ginny's comforting touch he fell asleep again.

The next morning, as he made breakfast, Ginny came up behind him and put her arms around his waist. She said nothing, just held him. It was enough for the moment.

As they ate breakfast, the only sounds were the utensils hitting the plates and the crunch of toast being bitten into. Finally, Ginny sighed, and broke the tension further by speaking.

"Harry, dear. Do you want to tell me about your nightmares?" Harry huffed and chewed slowly. Ginny raised her eyebrows. Harry sighed internally. So much like her mother, he thought wistfully. He swallowed and looked at his empty plate.

"Ginny," she cut off whatever excuse he was planning with a glare. "Fine. It's the same old dream where Voldemort storms into the castle and starts killing students left and right." Harry said in a nonchalant voice, as if commenting on the weather. Ginny seemingly approved of this and talked to Harry for a few minutes and promised to talk to him some more when she came home from work.

As Harry kissed her goodbye, he felt guilt in the pit of his stomach. He had lied to her, but it was for the best.

How do you tell the person you love most in the world that you have nightmares of them being brutally murdered every night? That you couldn't do anything to save them?

Thinking these questions over, Harry closed the door, ready to spend another day wallowing in his own depression.