Hermione yawned and blinked her eyes open. Tears flowed from her eyes. She had just had another nightmare. She sat up and wiped her eyes clean, recalling the dream, the memory.
It had been another one of the Battle of Hogwarts, this time one of her worse ones: Fred's death. It was one of the most personal and frequent ones, and she always felt haunted afterwards. Mainly because she felt to blame. She hadn't told anyone, but it was her fault, in her opinion, that Fred had died. She went over the memory again.
"I don't think I've heard you joke since-" Fred began, laughing. He was interupted by loud crash as the wall exploded. In a split second, Fred looked over to Hermione, seeing a rather large piece of rubble flying her way. She saw, as if in slow motion, him jumping over and taking the hit for her. She flew back from the impact of the explosion, a scream leaving her lips.
Once the dust cleared she sat up and shook herself off. She began looking frantically for the others. Harry and Ron sat up, then they heard a cry from Percy. All of the sound seemed to die away, the world around them seemed to fade. Hermione couldn't believe that the world still even existed. How could it, when Fred Weasley was lying dead on the ground? The only thing that her brain processed as Ron and Percy cried over their dead brother was that it should have been her. There hadn't been enough time for his smile to fade, and yet, somehow he had been quick enough to jump in front of her.
Hermione buried her head in her knees and let tears pour out. After a few moments she wiped them away again and stood up. Perhaps a nice glass of water would help. She could summon some by magic, but she decided that a walk downstairs wouldn't hurt.
She stepped out of her room and onto the landing. When she had told the Weasleys that she would stay with them until finding a place of her own, along with Harry, Mrs. Weasley hadn't hesitated in making them comfortable. With magic, she had added two temporary rooms on the top floor for them to stay in without having to share.
Hermione entered the dark kitchen and checked the clock. One-thirty. She sighed and took a drink of her water. Suddenly, she heard a muttered swear from the stairs.
Curious, she set down her cup and walked over. She saw a dark figure leaning against the wall, grasping its foot. Lighting her wand, she revealed it to be Harry, rubbing his toe, which he seemed to have stubbed on the stairs.
He looked like a deer in the headlights, eyes wide and scared. He seemed less scared as he saw that it was Hermione, but not by much.
"What are you doing, Harry?" she asked, lowering her wand and leaning against the banister.
His eyes flickered to the door next to them, then back to her. "Er, nothing."
Hermione smiled, seeing that they were just outside Ginny's room. "How long have you been visiting her at night?"
His face flushed red. "Not long. I came down one night to get a midnight snack, and I heard her crying. She'd been having nightmares."
"I know the feeling," Hermione said, wincing. He nodded.
"Anyway, I went in and comforted her. I've come every night since. Er," he suddenly looked frantic, "nothing happened, of course."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Whatever you say, Harry. It isn't like I can see right through you or anything."
He paled. "You won't, like..." he trailed off.
"Tell?" she asked. He nodded. "Of course not. But, Harry?"
"Yeah?" he asked, seeming relieved that she wouldn't give him away.
She smiled. "Work on your cover story. You're a terrible liar in these situations."
He smiled back and stepped into Ginny's room. Hermione sighed and proceeded back up the stairs. She knew she wouldn't get back to sleep after her nightmare, so she figured she'd read. She flicked on her bedside lamp in her room and pulled out Hogwarts, A History, her all-time favorite.
Hermione was not the only one lacking sleep that night. Many miles away, Draco Malfoy was in his room, pacing back and forth. He hadn't had a decent rest since the Battle of Hogwarts. His father was in Askaban,and his mother still faced charges. She was under house arrest, with Ministry officials holding a constant watch over the manor. Draco was free, but was still haunted by the war.
He regreted every thing he'd done, every death he'd caused. As much as he hated to admit it, he hadn't wanted any part of it. When he had originally signed up to join the Dark Lord, he was a naive child. He soon found out that being a Death Eater wasn't all it was cracked up to be.
He grabbed a fistful of hair and fell backwards onto his bed. Dark circles ringed under his eyes, and he was quite pale. Or, at least paler than usual. He groaned and headed down to the kitchens, hoping that an elf could make him some sort of potion to help him sleep. When he began to pass through the dining room he was greeted by the worst sight he'd ever seen.
Narcissa Malfoy had her head in her hands, a glass of water set in front of her, about half empty. She rubbed her eyes, and when she pulled her hands away, the look in her eyes broke Draco's heart. She looked utterly defeated. The circles under her eyes matched his, showing him she'd gotten as much sleep as he had.
She looked up and saw her son, then tried to muster up a smile. Draco walked over and hugged her. "You should be asleep," he told her, softly.
She let out a small laugh. "So should you, mister." She pulled away and sighed. "I just can't. Not with the threat of being taken away hanging over us. The last thing I need is for you be left alone. We need to stick together, and I cannot do that from Askaban." Her eyes watered as se leaned on her son.
Draco put his arms around his mother. "You won't be taken away. I promise you, we will stick together, and no one will take us apart." As hard as he seemed to everyone else, he had a soft spot for his mother. She was the most important person in his life, and he needed her, just as he knew she needed him.
She gave him a tired smile. "I hope you're right, sweetheart. I really do."