Author's note: This story is dedicated to Margie, because she went off the high diving board and is completely awesome in every way. Love you! :)
Never Again
When Ron awakes in the early morning, when no right person should be awake, he is not surprised to find the left side of his bed cold and empty.
He lays there for a little while, half asleep, staring at the ceiling of their bedroom. She did this, and it wasn't good for her. He had told her a million times that she could wake him up, that he could help her. She didn't listen. He could understand. They all had nightmares. They all handled it differently.
After a few moments, he slides out from under the covers, the cold air hitting him hard. His body temperature lowered from sleeping, plus the November in London chill, had him moving quickly to get warm. Out of the darkened bedroom, lit only slightly by the gray light from outside. Into the rest of their small apartment, the living room with the pictures on the mantle, the small kitchen and the even smaller front room. That's where she'd be. Near the window seat looking down on the street in the front room, which only had a love seat and a coat rack and space for the door. Not enough space, though, the door still ran into the window seat when you opened it.
He finds her standing by the window, staring outside, her face an emotionless mask. Her hair is disheveled, and even in the dim light he can see the circles under her eyes. He comes up behind her silently, placing a hand on the small of her back. She doesn't react.
"Hermione, if we're gonna get through this, you need to not run away. You can wake me up. You have to tell me, Hermione. I tell you, don't I?" She didn't look at him.
"I just can't talk about them, Ron. It's too painful. I don't know if I'm strong enough to voice what I see in my dreams out loud."
"I talk to you about Fred."
"Well, all my dreams are about her." She turned and looked him straight in the eye.
His jaw tightens in anger. He feels a burning urge to hit something hard. His memories of Bellatrix Lestrange are burned into his skull. The anger will never subside at what she did, that night at Malfoy Manor, that night in the Department of Mysteries, every night of her life.
After controlling himself enough to form words, he takes both of her hands in his, stares at her face as he speaks, his concentration unwavering.
"Never again, Hermione. No one will ever hurt you, while I still have breath in my body."
She looks at him, seeing the truth of his words in his eyes, then falls into his chest, feeling better than she has in months.