Written for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry 2018 Assignment 14.
Prompt:

Task 2: Serotonin. Though best known for its role in mood disorders, serotonin is also critically important for regulation of circadian rhythms and the daily sleep/wake cycle. Write about someone with insomnia. Alt. Write about someone with depression or anxiety.

Enjoy!

Forgiveness

I can have peace of mind only when I forgive rather than judge.
- Gerald Jampolsky

Draco hadn't slept in four days.

The dark bags beneath his eyes had grown and darkened to bruise like smudges reaching nearly to his cheekbones.

He felt exhaustion all the way into his bones. His joints ached. Moving was a chore, but still, he drug himself through the corridors of Hogwarts, heading towards his Head of House's personal chambers.

The dungeons seemed even more damp than usual. The chill in the winter air had crept along both the outdoor and indoor walkways of the school, and he was surprised there wasn't a layer of ice along the walls.

Draco couldn't remember a time when he had felt quite this tired. Not in sixth year, when the stress of being ordered to kill the Headmaster threatened to overtake him. Not when the Dark Lord was living in his house. Not when he saw his schoolmates captured and imprisoned in the cells beneath his home. Certainly, he wasn't even this weary when he watched the girl of his affections tortured heinously by his Aunt Bellatrix.

No, this was something new. Something that he didn't understand and couldn't explain.

He didn't know if Professor Snape would be able to help him. He'd already tried Dreamless Sleep, calming potions, and Blaise had given him a muggle medication called Nyquil and that didn't help either, not that he'd expected it to.

He rapped sharply on the thick wood that separated his Godfather's living quarters from the rest of the school. Without delay, the door was wrenched open and the stoic man in black looked taken aback. Instead of his usual sneer, his face was plastered with concern.

"Draco." he said, "You look sick. Get in here before you collapse where you stand."

As he entered the room, he noticed the fire blazing brightly in the hearth, a book cracked open and left upon the coffee table, a cup of tea half drank.

"I'm sorry to interrupt your night, sir. I'm just a bit desperate." Draco spoke as he lowered himself to one end of the deep blue sofa. "I'm not quite sure what else to do."

"What's going on, why are you here?" Snape asked.

"It's just that I can't sleep," Draco responded. "I've tried everything. I've taken potions and draughts. Dreamless Sleep didn't even put me to sleep! I've meditated. I've exercised. I even tried muggle medicine! Nothing has allowed me even a moment of rest. I close my eyes and I can only picture everything that happened. I see all the people in our dungeons. I see the battle, friends dying. I hear..."

He hesitated. He hadn't told his Godfather of the night that truly plagued him, though he assumed he knew some of the stories, at least.

"I hear her screams."

Snape furrowed his eyebrows, thinking quickly about who Draco might be speaking of.

"Her?" he inquired.

Draco glared at the man, frustrated to have to admit his shameful pain. "Granger. It's fucking Granger screaming every time I close my eyes, every time I see her face I just hear her screams. It's like nothing I can even describe. It's not just screaming, it's... it's this pain and fear and yet bravery mixed together almost a challenge, but it's so much pain and every time I hear it I remember that I did nothing at all."

Snape sat quietly as the boy - no, the man - he corrected himself, the man across from him ranted and then began to weep. He understood the feeling of helplessness, the worry, the regret, and guilt would eat Draco alive if Snape didn't intervene. He hoped he could help Draco in a way that he couldn't do for himself.

"Have you spoken to her?" Snape asked, in a quiet voice, trying to soothe the tension in the room.

"Are you crazy? And say what? I'm sorry my crazy Aunt cut your arm open and tortured you and nearly broke your mind. Glad you're okay though?" Draco ranted.

"Exactly that. You say exactly that." Snape retorted. "Listen, I sat beside as people I cared about were hurt, or killed. I don't speak of this often Draco, but because of my actions a woman I loved was killed."

Draco looked up sharply, confusing marring his features.

"Oh don't look at me like I'm incapable of loving someone." Snape sneered. "My childhood friend was killed because I fed the Dark Lord information that I didn't know related to her. I never had the chance to fix it, not really. I spied for Dumbledore for 20 years trying to repay my debt to her, and I still am saddled with much guilt because there is no way now for me to repent or apologize to her.

My advice, young man, is that you don't make the mistake that I made. Do not let shame over actions or non-actions during a time of war eat you alive. This will bury you six feet under if you don't address it head-on."

Draco was silent. He wanted nothing more than to extend the proverbial olive branch and try to make up for the multitude of sins he carried.

"But how? How would I even..." he trailed off.

"Perhaps you should start the easy way." Snape began. For the next hour, Snape helped Draco devise a plan to ask for forgiveness they young man was certain he didn't deserve.

Hermione sat quietly at breakfast the next morning, spooning blueberries into her porridge as she flipped through the pages of her potions textbook.

A large tawny owl swept in with the daily mail and landed elegantly in front of her.

She was confused, at first, as she hadn't received any mail since arriving back at Hogwarts, and this certainly wasn't Harry or Ron's owl.

She stroked the bird gently as she untwined the missive from its leg, feeding it a bit of bacon as a treat.

As the bird stretched its wings and gracefully glided from the Great Hall, Hermione unfurled the scroll.

Granger,

I'm glad to see you back for your eighth year.
There are many things I wish to say to you, but perhaps the easiest way is to ask for your hand in friendship.
I've made so many mistakes.

Can we meet, talk?

Perhaps after Potions?

Draco Lucius Malfoy

The night found Draco wrapped in a crimson colored blanket, nursing hot chocolate in the Room of Requirement. A small smile played on his lips as he recalled the hours of conversation in this comfortable room that he'd had with the genius portion of the golden trio.

His eyes fluttered closed, and he tensed slightly, but it was silence. Blissful silence.

A hand plucked the book from his lap, tucking the blankets tighter around him.

"Sleep well, Draco", a soft female voice whispered as he drifted off to sleep. "Sleep well."