Sleepless

I do not own anything in the Harry Potter universe. No copyright infringement is intended.

2:37

Stop looking at the clock.

2:39

2:42

Just close your eyes and go to sleep.

2:53

3:00

4 more hours before you have to get up.

3:06

Maybe if I read for a little while. "Lumos!"

She perused the titles on the bedside table. Indentured: A History of House Elves, Centaurs Who Changed the World, In Want of a Wand. Hogwarts, A History.

Wait, why is that there? I haven't picked up that book in months.

She opened the tattered volume, and there, stuck between the cover and the title page, she found a folded sheet of parchment with her name written on the front in familiar, beloved, lopsided handwriting. She opened it and began to read.

My love,

Since I can't be there with you, I thought you might like having this old favorite nearby. You are sleeping as I write this, and it is one of the most beautiful sights I have ever seen. I can't bear the thought of waking you, even to say goodbye. I don't know how I am going to manage to be away from you for five whole days…and four whole nights, even worse. Every night when I go to bed I will see you just like you are now, your hair scattered all around you, your beautiful eyelashes resting on your perfect cheeks, or maybe I will remember you like you looked last night when you were beneath me, with those cheeks flushed, calling out my name. Either way, I will be thinking of you nonstop. It will be the longest five days of my life. I can't wait until Friday.

I love you,

Your husband

Her eyes blurred. They had not spent even one night apart since their wedding, and now they would be separated for the whole week. She knew he had to go, it was a vital part of his training, and she was so proud of him for finally being able to fulfill his dream of becoming an auror after putting that dream aside to help George get back on his feet, but this part of his training made her wish he was still working at the shop in Diagon Alley so he could come home to her every night.

She tucked the letter under her pillow and opened Hogwarts, A History to the first page.

When her alarm went off at seven she had read all the way to chapter thirteen.

Mum Weasley, perhaps suspecting how difficult this week would be, invited her over for dinner Tuesday evening and insisted that she stay the night. She found herself in the small bed in his old room just under the attic, and she was overwhelmed with the memories of a thousand other nights; the first time she, Ron, and Harry had returned to the Burrow after defeating Voldemort, when she and Harry had crept up here, she from Ginny's room and he from Percy's old room, and they had all slept together in Ron's single bed, so used to being able to hear one another breathe at night that they had not been able to bear the separation; helping Ron pack for his move to George's flat, deciding what to take and what to leave, sorting through odd socks and comics, fighting and laughing and finally deciding to take the lot and store what wouldn't fit at George's at Hermione's place; the night of her engagement, when, after she lay awake for hours staring entranced and amazed at the beautiful ring Ron had given her, Ginny had kicked her out of her room and she had sneaked up to lay in Ron's arms while they whispered wonderful plans for the future; all the afternoons she and Ron had snuck away from wedding planning to snog on his bed until they were discovered by Molly and dragged back downstairs. Best of all were the memories of the Sunday afternoons after Weasley family brunch when they would steal away up to this room and make love with the sun shining across the bed, or nap snuggled together on the bed where Ron had once dreamed that someday she would return his love.

There was no clock in the room, so she was surprised when the sunrise brightened the room and interrupted her memories. She was quite thankful for the coffee Mrs. Weasley handed her at the table along with her breakfast.

On Wednesday Ginny stopped by her office late in the afternoon to ask if she wanted to get dinner. Harry was off on the same training exercise, and although she hid it rather well, Ginny didn't appear to be quite herself. They got Chinese take-away and sat on Ginny's sofa, watching movies on Harry's TV. When Ginny asked her if she wanted to stay the night, Hermione considered for a moment; the idea of another night alone in her flat was not appealing, but she wasn't sure spending the night alone in a strange bed was any better. When she saw the look on Ginny's face, she suddenly understood — Ginny didn't want to be alone either. She she agreed, and after the movie was over they retired to their rooms.

When she returned downstairs two hours later to get a drink of water and noticed the flickering light coming from the living room, she wasn't terribly surprised to find Ginny wrapped in a blanket on the sofa, watching another movie. When Ginny saw her she lifted the edge of the blanket in silent invitation. Just as silently, Hermione joined her best friend. It was a good thing Harry liked to collect DVDs.

Thursday evening she sat contemplating the small vial on the table in front of her. The apothecary had assured her that it was mild, yet effective. Taking a deep breath, she unstoppered the bottle and downed its contents in one swallow.

The next morning she contemplated the same bottle, still sitting on the table in the now immaculate kitchen, which matched the immaculate living room, 2 bedrooms, and study.

Effective my arse.

Fridays were normally staff meeting days in her department, but this week her boss was in France meeting with his counterpart in the French ministry, and she had never been so thankful for a clear schedule. She told her assistant she would be doing research all day and was not to be disturbed, and then spent most of the day staring at a page in a book she had selected at random off her shelf. She knew she would pay for it next week, her workload would be ridiculous if she got nothing done today, but she was equally sure that anything she tried to do today would be rubbish and would have to be re-done anyway. So she sat and pretended to study a timeline of magical creature legislation and tried, unsuccessfully, not to look at the clock. As soon as she reasonably could, she went home and took up a post on a chair in front of the fireplace.

The moment he stepped out of the floo he found himself knocked to the ground by a flying mass of limbs and hair. The next moment his face was being covered in warm kisses, and it took him another moment to regain his bearings and kiss her back. She pulled away and they looked at one another for a moment, and then her lips found his again. He was happy to be home.

He picked her up, ignoring for the moment his growling stomach and sore muscles in favor of meeting a more urgent need, and carried her up to their room. He laid her on their bed with another gentle kiss, and turned away briefly to place his bag, still over his shoulder, in the chair in the corner. He turned back to the bed and the endearment on his lips died as he saw her lying there, fast asleep.

He chuckled and lay down next to her, pulling up the blanket and wrapping his arms around her. They had all weekend to catch up, and he was tired too; he hadn't slept all week.