AN: So I know I'm supposed to be working on Photo, but this story insisted on being written instead. Hope you like. Oh, for those that care, this is AU.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, JK Rowling and NBC own everything. All hail their power.
Hermione was woken up by the sudden movement of her husband jolting himself half out of bed. Severus had nightmares often but he almost never screamed or shouted because of them. Sometimes Hermione didn't even wake up and wouldn't know he had one until the following morning when he would be irritable enough to make the word irritable itself feel a deep sense of inadequacy.
She'd made the mistake the first couple of times she'd woken up with him of asking what was wrong and if he wanted to "talk about it". Experiences since then had taught her the best thing to do was wait a few minutes before gently rubbing his back or scratching lightly at the hairline on his neck while he calmed down. Occasionally he'd describe something to her, but most frequently they both went back to bed without saying a word.
"This one was all your fault," he rasped once his breathing had slowed down. Hermione turned to look at him, a silly thing to do since it was too dark to see his expression and he was only a shadowy outline. Severus had had nightmares about her being attacked by Death Eaters, going back to Ron and even ones he never explained much but had something to do with the giant squid. Hermione knew she was in a good deal more of his nightmares than he talked about. Depending on the events of the dream he always acted a bit differently towards her for a day or two afterward. Once, after a particularly nasty one with her and Ron, he'd actually asked her to take Veritaserum and then tell him that she hadn't been secretly shagging Ron in the back alleys of Hogsmeade.
His nightmares about her were usually troublesome for their relationship. This one wasn't looking any better.
"Is this because I asked you to try the calamari?" she tried before his impatient and dismissive hand waved her off. It was a good thing for Severus that it was dark. His blushes were never very becoming.
He could feel the sharp cold of the air while he knelt alone on the hard ground with so many pairs of eyes encircling him. The eyes were watching him, seeing what he would try to do and just waiting for any excuse to cut him down. Make one wrong move, they said, and you're history.
He could hear the screams of so many people, including Hermione's, but he couldn't see where she was. He'd pushed himself up, struggling on the slippery ground and trying to move quickly to where he'd hoped he needed to go. Then suddenly he felt himself flung into the air and the world had started to spin and he could see it.
It had surrounded him, both clinging to his frame and spreading mercilessly into the air around him to catch the light in odd twisting ways. He felt himself fall to the ground hard and was unable to get back up. He'd failed her.
Sitting on the bed, he relaxed and absorbed the fact that it was all a dream. He knew Hermione was worried but Severus really didn't feel like explaining this one. However, he also didn't think she'd want to drop it now that they'd started talking.
"You forced me against my will to watch those … Oil-limpics," Severus noted with frustration the slight whine in his voice, " so it is obviously your fault I dreamed I was one of those ridiculous ice dancers!"
"A figure skater? You dreamed you were a figure skater!" Hermione's face cracked open into a wide, delirious smile and she couldn't help herself.
"Did you wear little pink tassels? Sequins? Oh please tell me there were was glitter. "
Severus shivered. He had glittered.
It was too dark for his glare to have any effect. However, he knew other, more persuasive, ways to stop that mouth of hers.
AN: I should mention that this was inspired largely by the short program outfit of figure skater Evan Lysacek. Thanks for reading!