J.K. Rowling owns everything she invented. She is my God.
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Night Comforts
Hermione woke with a start to find herself completely engulfed in darkness. Clutching at her sheets, she pulled herself into a seated position to look around as her eyes adjusted to the darkness. The only light to be seen was a strange glow coming from the various perfumes and potions on Ginny's wardrobe. Ginny was not in her bed.
Sweat clung to Hermione's forehead as she pulled her mass of curls back into a ponytail. She tried to stabilize her breathing as visions from her nightmare came racing back to her. She could still hear that cold, high-pitched hiss as He revealed to the growing crowd that He had killed Harry Potter at last. Hermione could still see her best friend limp on the wet grass.
She had had the same dream, or rather, recollection, since that fateful night when the Dark Lord, Voldemort, had been defeated at last. Despite the celebrations, Hermione was still terrified that she had almost lost her best friend. Every night she dreamt that the worst was coming. She dreamt that Harry had failed, and Voldemort resorted to slaughtering the rest of the wizarding world.
That night's dream was no different, but she couldn't seem to get one particular image out of her head. Her temple pulsed as she attempted to throw it out of her view. Ronald Weasley lay, just as limp as Harry, against a statue. Blood trickled from his pink lips, the same lips Hermione had tasted just an hour before. His eyes were closed, but his face held a look of terror, of extreme agony. Hermione draped herself over him, sobbing, and streaking his face and clothes with tears. A cold hiss of a laugh sounded behind her. That's when she woke up. That's when she always woke up.
Hermione's throat was dry. Had she screamed in her sleep? Chewing anxiously on her bottom lip, she looked around Ginny's bedroom at the Burrow, wondering where Ginny could be. Hermione shoved the sheets off of her legs and slipped her feet into her slippers. She tiptoed across the room and to the door. Opening it, she entered the hallway.
The floorboards creaked under her feet. A cool, Summer breeze touched her cheek, telling her the window at the end of the hall was left open. She hugged herself tightly, trying to avoid the chill clinging to the back of her neck.
She made her way to the staircase, and, as quiet as possible, she climbed to the very tiptop bedroom on the shambled, old home. She hadn't realized she was shaking until she locked her fingers around the brass doorknob, jiggling it noisily. Taking a deep, cleansing breath, she pushed open the door.
She found herself, once again engulfed in darkness as she closed herself in the tiny bedroom. Moonlight seeped throuh the small, square window in the back, illuminating a few details. Hermione glanced at the small cot in the corner, noticing it was empty. Harry was gone. That explained Ginny's disappearance. They were probably in the garden for a midnight stroll. The two of them had done that often since the Battle of Hogwarts. Hermione found it sweet. Ron found it revolting.
Speaking of Ron... A handful of soft snores could be heard from the back corner of the dark room. Hermione smiled, relief flooding through her. He wasn't dead. The moonlight reflected off his rough jaw, slightly ajar. Hermione chuckled at the bit of drool on the corner of his mouth.
"Ron?" She hissed, placing her hand on his strong arm. "Ron?" She gave him a little shake, and he woke with a start.
"S'matter?" He asked, his voice rough with sleep. He ran a hand over his face to wipe any signs of sleep away. "'Mione? S'goin' on?"
"I had another nightmare." Hermione chewed anxiously on her bottom lip. She felt like a child.
"Oh." Ron frowned, looking around at his dark room.
"Can I stay with you tonight?" She asked softly, hopefully.
Ron looked up at her, a little bewildered. "Ye-" He cleared his throat. "Yeah." He scooted over to the very edge of the wall. His bed wasn't very big. Then, he threw back the covers to let Hermione in.
Smiling softly to herself, Hermione slid off her slippers and slid into bed next to Ron. She cuddled into his warm body. Then, she planted her lips softly against his jaw. "Thank you." She mumbled softly, closing her eyes.
A sudden heat surrounded Hermione's cheek, which was pressed against his neck, telling her he was blushing. He cleared his throat again. "Your welcome?" He offered weakly.
Hermione wrapped an arm around his waist. He rested his rough hand on her skin, and she smiled. He began to relax around her as his fingers caressed up and down her arm.
Lying in his arms, she knew no one could ever hurt her, and she would never allow anything to hurt him. Slowly, she drifted back to sleep. This time, her dreams were filled with happy memories of Ronald Weasley.
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Just a little idea I was toying with. Hope you like it. Working on more Oneshots and hopefully a full-out fanfiction. Review please!
