It was eleven o'clock at night and the Gryffindor Eighth year dormitory was eerily silent apart from the sound of Seamus Finnegan's loud snores. One maroon bed was noticeably silent but from time to time, the curtains would move peculiarly, like someone was kicking them.

One kick, two kicks, then it was still once more.

Not even five minutes later, there was movement from the same bed. This time, what looked to be a foot underneath the curtain, lashed out and knocked a cup off the neighbouring bedside table.

The cup made a loud clattering noise as it hit the ground and Harry jolted up in bed at the sound. Slowly sitting up, he scanned the room, looking for the cause of the disturbance. As his eyes moved across the room, they passed over Ron's bed but then quickly moved back, having seen a flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye.

Harry kept his eye's trained to Ron's bed, lingering there just in case the movement occurred again. It did. As soon as Harry saw the kicking, he leapt out of bed and tore open Ron's curtains. His heart almost stopped at the sight that awaited his eyes.

His friend was desperately thrashing beneath the sheets, his body soaked in sweat. His mouth opened in a silent scream as his face twisted in agony. Harry reached over and slowly shook Ron's shoulder, knowing that his war-honed instincts would cause his friend to wake even from the gentlest touch. Surely enough, as soon as Harry's hand ghosted over Ron's shoulder, his eyes shot open, darting around the room with a panicked glint.

"Ron. It's just me."

The red-head looked up and caught sight of calm, emerald green eyes and immediately relaxed. The two were well versed in each other's nightmares and so knew exactly how to calm the other down.

Harry's eyes slid over to the door in a silent question. Nodding his assent, Ron stood up shakily, not yet completely recovered from his horrific nightmare. They both quietly make their way down to the common room, trying not to wake their sleeping roommates. As soon they entered the room, Ron collapsed onto one of the comfy armchairs located in front of the flickering fire and Harry looked at him sympathetically.

Someone once said that a human's greatest attribute was to be able to feel emotions. Right now, Harry agreed wholeheartedly. He sat down in the armchair next to Ron, giving him space to recover from the nightmare.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Harry asked softly, his voice hoarse as he considered what could have caused the nightmare.

He was sure he already knew.

Ron slowly shook his head and held back a sob, his body shaking. Harry sighed deeply and buried his head in his hands.

"I can't help both of us Ron. I...I just can't. I'm barely keeping myself afloat. I'm really, really sorry." His voice broke. "i just can't help both of us."

Ron looked up from where he had been staring at his knees and looked at Harry.

His friend was supporting his head in one hand, his eyes closed. The brunette would have looked almost peaceful if not for the stress lines etched into his flesh and the shadow-like bags underneath his eyes. The bags were proof of the insomnia that had been plaguing him as he tried to avoid his own nightmares. It wasn't a healthy way to proceed especially since Ron suspected that the nightmares weren't going to go away any time soon. He just wasn't sure if he could suggest a better way.

Harry's head jolted upwards as Ron's hand settled on his thigh. He looked into his friend's, no his brother's eyes and was drawn into the whirlwind of emotions that surfaced. Grief, sorrow and determination were prominent in his dull blue eyes.

Harry could empathise. Every since they came back to school, his emotions had been all over the place. He kind of wished that there was something like a muggle school councillor at Hogwarts but he knew that would never happen. The wizarding world was too set in their old ways to acknowledge the existence of mental illness even though it was right at their doorstep.

"I-" Both of them spoke at the same time.

Harry nodded at Ron, indicating for him to go first.

"I think..." Ron hesitated, trying to gauge Harry's reaction to his suggestion. "I think... I think that we remind each other too much of... her."

Harry froze.

Ron felt a cold thread of fear creep down his spine and trained his eyes on Harry, watching him for anything that might give a glimpse into his thought process.

"We both haven't been coping very well, I'm sure you've noticed. I just think that it might get better if we go our seperate ways just for a while."

Harry nodded slowly and Ron relaxed minutely.

Harry spoke quietly but sounded assured of his decision. "I agree. I was going to suggest something similar before anyway."

"Still friends though?"

"Of course."

0o0o0o0o0o0o

Over the course of the next few days, most of the returning 8th years had noticed something different between Ronald Weasley and Harry Potter especially their close friends. They still acted friendly towards each other so it wasn't as though they had had a fight, they just weren't seen interacting with each other as much as before, even after the war.

Harry and Ron still talked and still seemed like they were good friends so the others put it out of their minds, reasoning that they were just taking some time off to recover from the war. And so life continued as normally as possible, with everybody working to pick up the pieces left from the war.

But amidst all the chaos, nobody noticed that slowly, two lives were shattering.