A/N: It's been a VERY long time since I've uploaded anything here A, and I'm a little rusty having not written anything in so long (and to all my Fallout followers, I'm so sorry at the break in the sequel - I haven't forgotten, but I just haven't had the time or inclination what with teaching and all!). This is something that's been floating about on my PC for about 8 years now. Having renewed my love of all things HP since visiting the HP Studios, I decided to give this another shot. It was an idea I had after finishing the seventh book all those years go, wondering how things would pan out in the immediate aftermath of the battle, especially concerning Hermione and her parents, her new relationship with Ron etc. So here it is! We'll see how it goes...
Chapter 1
The house was still, silent but for the occasional snores issuing from its louder inhabitants. It had been five days since the Wizarding World had finally triumphed over its greatest enemy, and for the first time in a long while everyone slept soundly in their beds, free from any fear.
Well … almost everyone …
Ginny Weasley lay in the darkness, her eyes fixed on the silhouette of the bed on the other side of the room. For the second night in a row she found herself listening to something that made her heart ache with sorrow.
'No – please – we don't – please don't hurt me!' the voice mumbled, the awful sound accompanied by the rustling of sheets as the occupant of the bed tossed and turned.
Though she was longing to help, to do something for her friend, Ginny instead resigned herself to observing the pitiful scene, wondering what in the name of Merlin could have happened to give Hermione Granger such terrible nightmares.
'I don't know – please – I don't – ' Hermione groaned, thrashing about in what Ginny could only presume was a terrified panic.
She sat up, determined to wake her friend and release her from her torment, when something happened that made her blood run cold: a piercing scream punctuated the stuffy air. Ginny's heart beat wildly as she scrambled out of her bed and snatched up her wand from the bedside table.
'Lumos!' she muttered, shining the light over the pale figure in the other bed.
To her horror, she found tears streaming down Hermione's face, her fists clenched as she struggled beneath the bedclothes.
'Hermione … ?' Ginny whispered. 'What – '
But her sentence was cut short by the sound of hurried footsteps overhead, apparently making their way down the stairs. Staring at the door, she suddenly found herself face to face with her own parents as it was flung open.
'What's going on?' Mrs Weasley demanded, a little breathlessly. 'Are you both all right?'
Ginny turned to look at the still-unconscious Hermione by way of answer.
'What in the name of Merlin – '
Mrs Weasley stopped at the sound of yet more pounding footsteps from above; within seconds, Ginny could see a mop of black hair over her father's shoulder, shortly followed by her youngest brother's taller, lankier frame.
'What's going – ' Ron began, but he, too, broke off his own sentence at the sight that met his sleepy eyes.
Without any further words, he pushed his way past the other three huddled together in the doorway and hurried to Hermione's bedside; kneeling down, he grasped hold of her hand in his and laid his other on her forehead, his thumb caressing the smooth skin there. Everyone watched, dumbfounded, as the thrashing figure in the bed calmed momentarily at his touch, though the muttering continued unabated.
'Please – we don't have it – no! Ron! Where are you? Please – '
Fresh tears streaked Hermione's face as she gripped hold of both the duvet and Ron's hand with her own. Her breathing became heavier as she struggled once more, this time against Ron.
'Shhh, I'm here. I'm here,' Ron whispered, bending his face down so that it was inches away from Hermione's and stroking her damp hair. 'It's all right, I'm here. She can't hurt you.'
He seemed oblivious to the huddle of people looking on mere metres away, their expressions mirroring the grief they felt at the sorrowful scene before them. Mrs Weasley made to walk towards the pair as Hermione was overcome with yet more convulsions, but was stopped by the hand that was laid on her arm.
'Let them be, Molly,' Arthur Weasley said softly, shaking his head. 'I think … Ron can handle this on his own.'
'But – '
'It's not your job anymore,' her husband interjected, his grip on her arm tightening ever so slightly. 'Let's leave them alone and see how things turn out.'
As though to finalise this command, he beckoned Ginny out of the room and closed the door gently behind her. The pitiful scene beyond was shut from view, the anguished sobs from Hermione the only sound that could be heard outside. Yet Mrs Weasley continued to stare at the door, as though it might provide her with the answers she so desperately sought.
'I don't understand,' she whispered, eyeing the wood before her. 'What's … what's wrong with Hermione? What's happened to make her act like this? Who's "she"?'
She rounded on the three people gathered around her, but received only solemn shakes of the head from her two family members; evidently they were as clueless as she. Harry, however, shuffled on the spot and averted his eyes from her penetrating gaze.
'Harry?' Mrs Weasley prompted. 'Do you know?'
Harry glanced up at her, and then continued to stare at the floorboards as though there was something immensely interesting down there.
'Yes, I think so,' he replied, his voice barely audible. 'But … I don't think I'm the right person to tell you, Mrs Weasley. I'm sorry.'
He looked up by way of an apology, first at Mrs Weasley, and then her husband.
'It's all right Harry. We understand,' Arthur said, before his wife could answer herself. 'Don't worry about it. You just trot off back to bed and get some sleep. Merlin knows you need it after what you've all been through.'
Harry nodded gratefully and turned to hurry back to his bedroom before anyone else could question him about Hermione's present state. Mrs Weasley watched him go, then gave a rather wistful look at the door beside her, her brow knitted with worry.
'Come on,' Mr Weasley said, taking her by the arm and steering her towards the stairs. 'There's nothing we can do now.'
He started to lead her back to bed, taking the opportunity whilst she was silent to bring her round to his own way of thinking.
'Are you all right staying on the couch tonight, Ginny?' her father called over his shoulder as he glanced back at her.
She nodded, knowing there was hardly any choice in the matter anyway. Confused and upset at her friend's unusual condition, she trudged down the stairs to the living room and huddled up on the sofa, feeling that sleep had never seemed so far off as it did right then.
Ron spared half a glance at the closing door, relief registering only briefly in his mind, before turning back to the bed. Hermione was not relenting in her struggling. Each plea that she made was like a knife in his heart. Try as he might, he could not help reliving that awful night with her: the pitch black of the cellar crowded his mind once more; the foul breath of the bloodthirsty werewolf stung his nostrils; Bellatrix Lestrange's high-pitched cackles clawed at his ears; and worst of all, the heart-rending screams of pain forced from Hermione as her captor tortured her turned his blood cold in his veins. It echoed in Ron's ears, as though he were experiencing the ordeal all over again. He bit back the string of curses that danced on the tip of his tongue, knowing it would do no good; instead, he focused all his attention on his anguished girlfriend. He would have given anything to have swapped places with her that night, anything at all. But that bitch had already made her mind up: the "Mudblood" was to be done first before anyone else, even the goblin …
Ron shook his head in an attempt to shut out that terrible scene and quell the murderous anger that was welling up inside him. He squeezed Hermione's hand instead, perhaps even a little too tightly this time. It was no use dwelling on the past; he had to concentrate on the present for now. Hermione needed him, and that was all that mattered.
'Hermione?' he murmured, his face close to hers once more. He shook her gently by the shoulder. 'Hermione?'
He watched as her eyelids fluttered for a few moments, then flew open, the eyes beneath them wide and red. Hermione stared at him, clearly trying to work out whether she was still in the nightmare. She struggled into a sitting position to look at him more clearly.
'R-Ron?' she whispered, her voice hoarse.
Ron cracked a small smile. It was an effort even to do that, he found.
'It's all right. You were just having a bad dream.'
He gave her hand another squeeze to reassure her. She looked at him a little uncertainly, hesitated, and then broke out into a fresh wave of tears. Ron put his arms around her and drew her close to his chest.
'Oh, R-Ron … it was t-terrible. I – I – ' Hermione stuttered, her voice muffled as she spoke into his torso.
'Shhh, don't worry. It's over now. I'm here. She can't hurt you.'
He felt himself begin to tremble as Bellatrix's face swam into his mind again, but ignored it. He could deal with that later.
'It's s-silly really … just a n-nightmare … ' Hermione mumbled, though Ron noted that her grip tightened somewhat as she spoke.
'It's not silly,' Ron reproached her, though not unkindly. 'What you went through –' He gritted his teeth. 'What you went through was awful. No-one should have to experience that. It's no surprise you're scared. Heck, I would be if it had been me. You've got nothing to be ashamed of, you hear?' He held Hermione a little away from him and looked her in the eyes, making sure she was listening. 'Ok?' he asked, wiping the stray tears that were still lingering on her cheeks away with his thumbs.
Hermione nodded, and made an attempt at a weak smile; she failed miserably, but it pleased Ron all the same. At least she was trying.
'Good. You know I hate to see you upset,' he added, his voice suddenly quiet.
'I know. I'm sorry,' Hermione whispered, leaning back into Ron's embrace.
'Anyway, you better get some proper sleep. You … '
He stopped, leaving his sentence hanging. Hermione sat back on the bed and looked up into his face. He was frowning.
'What … what's wrong?' she asked. Ron hesitated. 'What is it?' Hermione repeated.
'Well … I just wanted to ask … ' He paused, peering at her. 'How long … have you been having these dreams?'
'Oh … well, not long. I think … I think last night was the first time. Why'd you ask?'
'Ah, no reason.'
'What's wrong?' Hermione persisted.
'It's nothing, really … ' Ron fixed his gaze on his hands, studying the river of veins that ran the length of them. 'Just … I didn't want to think that you'd been having them for ages and I didn't realise.'
This time Hermione actually managed a genuine smile. She put her hand on Ron's and squeezed it.
'Now who's being silly?'
'Huh?'
'Ron, even if I had been having them for longer, it wouldn't matter that you didn't know. I don't expect you to pick up on every little thing.'
'But … but I should! Something like this, that's affecting you so badly … I should realise! It's … it's my duty!'
'Your duty? Ron, honestly, it's okay.'
'No, it's not. I've known you for nearly seven years. I should be able to tell when something's wrong. Especially now – '
He broke off. Hermione was about to press him for the rest of his sentence, when she noticed the tell-tale pink tinge appearing around his ears. So, instead, she settled for giving his hand another squeeze, hoping that would convey what she was feeling.
'Um, anyway,' Ron continued, clearing his throat, 'you really should get some sleep.'
To his surprise, Hermione's face fell. She tried to cover it up, but it was no use: he had seen it clear as day.
'Hermione?'
'Mm?'
'Er … what's with the long face? You got something on your mind?'
'N-no, nothing. I think that dream's just spooked me a little, that's all.'
She clambered back under the bed covers and just sat there, staring at her own hands.
'Are you sure you're all right? I … I can stay if you want. I don't think Ginny's coming back now anyway.'
'Oh, Ginny! I forgot about her! How terrible … I've basically forced her out of her own bedroom … '
'Don't be stupid. She understands. She's probably just gone down to the living room or something.'
The thought of his own bed, in the room he shared with Harry, flashed through his mind, but he banished it almost immediately. There was no way she would go there …
'But still … I should go get her.'
'You're not going anywhere,' Ron said firmly. 'She's all right. You just get some rest.' He could tell that she was still not convinced, so he took his chance. 'Right, that's it. I'm staying here tonight. I'll make sure that you get some sleep.'
Before Hermione could say anything, Ron stood up, walked over to the other bed, and climbed into it. She watched as he pulled out something very similar to a cigarette lighter from his trouser pocket.
'Do you carry that with you everywhere?' she asked, the tone of her voice laced with amusement.
Ron shrugged. 'Force of habit, I guess.'
'Wouldn't using your wand be just as effective?'
'Yeah, I suppose.'
Hermione gave a small chuckle as she lay down in her bed and waited for the light to magically disappear. When it finally happened, instead of closing her eyes and drifting off into a peaceful sleep, she found herself simply staring up at the ceiling. It was as though the darkness itself was pressing itself upon her. She turned over to face the wall, hoping that somehow she would be able to forget about that day and get some sleep. But the longer she lay there, the more she realised that it was not going to happen.
Rolling onto her back again, Hermione let out a long sigh, her eyes darting around the room, trying to probe the darkness for … well, she didn't know exactly.
'Hermione?' Ron's voice spoke through the gloom. 'You okay?'
Even in complete darkness, Ron could apparently sense her discomfort. Despite all they had been through, she still could not quite believe how much things had changed between them. How much they had changed…
'Of course. Why wouldn't I be?' she answered after a pause, trying her best to sound nonchalant.
Within seconds the light had flickered back on, causing Hermione to squint against the sudden brightness. When she finally opened her eyes fully again, it was to see Ron levitating Ginny's bed across the room towards her.
'What are you doing?' she whispered, sitting up and watching him.
'Well … since it would probably be inappropriate to stay in that single bed with you, I've decided to do the next best thing.'
He stopped the bed a few feet from Hermione's, then walked around the other side to levitate it to within inches from the other bed. Once he was satisfied that it was close enough, he climbed back into the bed and took out the Deluminator once more.
''Night,' he said, as he flicked the switch and the light went out in the room for the second time.
Hermione mumbled a feeble 'goodnight' back, still taken aback at Ron's thoughtfulness. She lay down again, this time rolling onto her stomach. Perhaps this way she would be able to get some sleep …
As her eyelids became gradually heavier and she began to doze off into a welcome sleep, she felt something that made her jump. Something had taken hold of her left hand as it rested near the edge of the bed. It took her a few seconds to realise that it was Ron. Though he said nothing, she appreciated the sentiment just the same. Smiling to herself in the darkness, she closed her eyes once more and welcomed the sleep that was awaiting her, her mind absorbed with distant memories of levitating feathers and swishing wands…
A/N: One final note: I don't usually include so much dialogue in one go (as I said, this is old so will require a fair bit of editing!), but to establish the situation, I felt it was necessary. All right, I'll stop rambling and making excuses now... ;)
