Disclaimer: I don't own shit, and most definitely not Harry Potter or any HP characters. So, sorry, I can't take all that money I know you want to give me. Dammit.

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Chapter One

XXX Hermione stood atop a dark hill. She wasn't alone, she knew that, but who she was with she was not sure. There was Harry, and Ron lay in a puddle of…blood? And then there was a figure, a figure that filled Hermione with dread, pure terror and bile building in her mouth as adrenaline pumped through her veins, making her body shake. She clutched her stomach and screamed–XXX

Hermione jerked upright in bed, shaking hands clenched over her mouth, body drenched in a cold sweat. Harsh screams that she refused to voice tore at her throat as tears ran down her cheeks. The urge to set the screams loose was almost unbearable to resist, but Hermione refused to let her basic instincts get the best of her. It was her body, dammit, and she would control it!

After a few moments Hermione felt able to control herself. She relaxed her stiff back and removed her hands from her lips, noticing absently as she rubbed her cheeks with delicate fingertips that she had dug tiny crescent-moons into her own flesh with her nails. Still shaking slightly, Hermione carefully got out of bed and walked towards the half-closed door across the room.

The tiny bathroom held only a cramped shower, a toilet, and a dingy (though immaculately clean) sink. Hermione bathed her face in cold water, washing away the tears and, to some extent, the lingering dream. It wouldn't be so bad, Hermione thought to herself, If it weren't happening so frequently lately. If it were only every now and then I'm sure I'd be able to cope better. Unfortunately, it was happening frequently; the nightmare which had haunted Hermione ever since the night of her seventeenth birthday over three years ago was occurring three times a week now, more frequently than ever before.

What was worse, the dreams were stronger now too. The first time she had ever experienced the dream, Hermione had been shocked and frightened, but hadn't felt the same stomach-wrenching terror she now experienced on a nearly daily basis. Furthermore, once she had awoken from the dream it was hopeless to try to go back to sleep that same night. Sleep was too elusive.

Glancing at her muggle alarm clock, Hermione saw that it was now a little past 3:00, October 30th, 2000. Great, she thought wryly to herself, I'm awake three hours earlier than I need to be for work. Now what? Sighing, she returned to her small bedroom and scanned her bookshelves for something to read. "I need to buy more books," she murmured quietly, looking over the nearly 200 books she owned which she had already read, some of them several times. Crookshanks, who regarded her from her bed, yowled his agreement. Choosing a textbook on potions she liked, Hermione settled into her reading chair and dove into the book, intent on distracting herself for the next three hours before readying for work.

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"Hermione!"

Hermione jumped, eyes flying open as she came out of her light doze. "Sorry, what?" She mumbled confusedly, trying to organize the papers on her desk and remember what she had been doing.

"I just wanted to ask if you were alright. You've been awfully tired lately." Harry leaned against the doorframe, gazing into her office with a puzzled look in his eyes. "Have you been getting enough sleep? It's dangerous to be too tired these days."

'These days' meaning wartime. With Voldemort still roaming the country at large all aurors had to constantly be ready to spring into action. While Voldemort rarely showed himself in public lately, one never knew when a Death Eater attack might pop up. Almost four years after the death of Dumbledore, few places were truly safe, even Hogwarts.

"I'm okay, I've just been having some bad dreams," Hermione's brow furrowed in irritation. Now the blasted nightmares were interfering with work too! "I'll be alright if I can get some rest." Seeing Harry still lurking self-consciously in the doorway, Hermione gestured him forward. "Come in, I could do with some company."

Harry strolled in, taking the seat across from Hermione's cluttered desk. He had grown tall and rangy over the years, his natural slenderness combining with his acquired muscles to give him a lean, well-toned look. His jaw was set more sternly than it had been in childhood, and worry was creating a crease between his brows at the tender age of twenty. He smiled wryly at the papers piled haphazardly over the desk, kept company by a tiny grinning pumpkin, Hermione's only attempt at Halloween decoration.

"Even the Great Book Worm can't keep organized these days, hmm?"

Hermione returned his wry smile with one of her own. "Too much paperwork to file from all the attacks. I'm sure I'd be afraid to look at your desk."

"My desk, I'm afraid to go into my office! There's parchment everywhere!" Harry almost laughed, but not quite. Nor did his smile quite reach his bottle-green eyes, which held only a look of tense strain. Hermione knew that the same look must be in her own eyes. Lately everyone she knew had lost the ability to completely enjoy anything, even friendly conversation.

"Well, if you spent more time at your bloody desk, instead of mine, maybe you would have some of it filed by now," Hermione sniffed primly, smiling to make it clear that she was joking. "So, what brings you here today? Any raids?"

Harry shook his head no. "Actually, Ron has invited us to go out for drinks tonight with him and Lavender. I think they've gotten engaged or something, he's been hinting about proposing for a while now. Wanna come?"

"Why not," Hermione shrugged. "Nothing better to do. But you do realize we'll be drinking, most likely getting drunk, on a Monday, right?"

"Not just any Monday," Harry shook his finger at her in admonishment. "Do you realize what tonight is? Besides the day before Halloween of course," At Hermione's blank look he shook his head and clucked his tongue in disappointment. "And you call yourself a bookworm. It's the day before Samhain! At midnight tonight it'll be a holy magical day, not to mention the magical new year!"

"First of all," Hermione began snobbily. "You call me a bookworm, I have never used that term to label myself. Second of all, Samhain is a pagan holiday, and the mainstream wizarding population hasn't practiced any of the pagan holidays since Christianity was introduced to and became prevalent among most Europeans. Not to mention the only way that Samhain would be even remotely important to me would be if I intended to try to communicate with the dead tonight, which I have absolutely no intention of doing."

"There's the bookworm we know and love," Harry tugged a frizzy lock of hair teasingly. "Either way, Ron's probably gotten engaged and it's an excuse to get smashed."

Hermione shrugged again. "Whatever, like I said, I've got nothing better to do. I do not, however, intend to get smashed."

Hermione vaguely remembered those words several hours and many pints later. Blinking blearily at her friends, she opened her mouth to say something, then realizing she had no idea what she meant to say, closed it. Remembering, she opened it again.

"May you have the best of happiness!" She slurred, lifting her glass of ale in Ron and Lavender's general direction. "And may you have many red-haired children!" She giggled and burped quietly. "I can't remember the last time I drank this much," she murmured to Harry.

"I can't remember the last time I saw you drink at all," he sipped his own drink, slurring even more than Hermione.

"We have to keep our wits about us these days," Hermione gazed into her drink gloomily. Mind functioning for only a moment, she glanced up. "What time is it?"

Harry checked his wristwatch as Ron and Lavender exchanged a tender kiss. "About 11:30. Why?"

"I should get home, we have work tomorrow," Hermione moved to rise, but tripped over her own feet and stumbled into Ron. Giggling, Hermione apologized half-heartedly. "I guess I'm too drunk to apparate," she announced, almost proudly.

"I'll walk you home," Harry rose only slightly more gracefully than she had. "Drunk girls shouldn't walk around alone at night."

"Hey, I'm a trained auror!" Hermione declared fiercely. "I can fight just fine on my own!"

"Hermione," Harry slurred matter-of-factly. "You can't even walk straight. I don't think you'd have much luck locating your wand right now."

Since there was no way to refute this logic, Hermione found herself bidding the happy couple farewell and stumbling away from the Leaky Cauldron with Harry's arm around her waist. They supported each other almost equally, nearly falling several times when one of them swerved too far in any direction. Luckily enough, Hermione kept a small flat not too far from Diagon Alley, so they didn't have far to walk.

Thanks to low auror's wages the apartment was small and fairly cramped. Although Hermione kept it exceedingly clean and neat, years of grime made everything slightly grey. It was still a fairly comfortable home, however, which Hermione appreciated. Once they had stumbled up the single flight of stairs to her home, Hermione struggled to unlock the door before all but falling into the small living area and collapsing onto her squishy red couch. Harry lurked in the still open doorway for a moment, uncertain of what to do.

"You're too drunk to walk home alone," Hermione announced. "You live too far away. Come stay on my couch."

"Okay," Harry shrugged before closing the door and following her onto the couch.

"Unh, I don't feel like moving," Hermione groaned, shifting to give Harry some space on the couch.

"That's fine, we both fit," Harry pulled off his shoes and robes, laying them carefully on the floor nearby. His glasses went on the coffee table and he began to unbutton his shirt.

"Are you stripping?" Hermione mumbled lazily, giggling tipsily.

"Is it okay for me to sleep in my boxers?" Harry paused in his undressing. "It's what I usually do."

"Whatever makes you comfortable," Hermione leaned back, closing her eyes sleepily. A few moments later Harry was nudging her with his feet as he lay down, pulling the small blanket she kept on the couch over himself. "Can I lie down next to you? My room seems so far away," Hermione complained. Harry nodded sleepily. Hermione pulled off her robes and kicked off her shoes before lying down beside him, cuddling up to his warm form. "You're warm," she murmured.

"Body heat," Harry agreed.

"That's kind of nice," Hermione shifted so that she was facing him. She had never been this close to Harry in any situation resembling this one before, and was startled to find that she felt very comfortable. Hermione was rarely comfortable being close to anyone, even men she had dated in the past. But at that moment, Hermione felt closer to Harry than she had ever felt to anyone before. "Do you mind..." she trailed off as she held a finger close to Harry's scar. He shook his head.

Gently tracing the upraised mark, Hermione found herself engrossed in the feeling of his skin. Her hand trailed away from the scar to caress his forehead and she briefly ran her fingers through his dark, messy locks. Then her hand traveled down his face, running over his straight nose and firm cheeks, which were only slightly scratchy with stubble. One finger ran across his lips, finding them oddly soft after the scratchiness of his cheeks and chin.

"You have nice lips," Hermione murmured, before leaning in and brushing her own lips against them. Liking the feeling, she kissed him again, then again, deeper this time. She didn't notice the clock on her wall hitting midnight and Samhain.

That was the last thing that Hermione remembered when she woke up the next morning completely naked on her own couch, spooning with an equally naked Harry Potter.

"Oh fuck." Was all she could say.

TBC...

Preview:

"Harry Potter, don't you even think about telling Ginny about this! I will not allow you to destroy things with that girl just because of one idiotic mistake. Last night will be between the two of us and Ginny never needs to find out. Harry, I know how honorable you are, but last night was not important enough to jeopardize your and Ginny's future happiness. You have to let it go."