A\N: I do not own anything you recognize.
Warning. This chapter does contain material that some people might have issues with. I warned this would be dark.
The screaming woke Ginny. She glanced at the clock next to the bed. 3 AM. It was at least after midnight this time. She sat up slowly, glancing at the sleeping Harry.
Carefully she touched his shoulder. Sometimes just a simple touch would wake him enough just enough for the nightmare to stop. Tonight was not one of those nights.
He flailed his arms, as if fending off something, one hand smacked against Ginny's cheek. She yelped slightly, the sound seeming to echo throughout their bed room. She reached over, grabbed Harry and shook him.
"Harry!" she yelled. His movements slowed and his eyes opened. Some nights the nightmares were worse, and she couldn't wake him as easily.
"Ginny?" He looked at her as if he didn't recognize her.
"Yes. You had a nightmare. It's alright. We're both safe, the war is over," she whispered touching his hand. She said these words every time he woke like this, there was always some confusion. Sometimes she wondered if the nightmares were even nightmares, but flashbacks he managed to suppress during his waking hours.
"Oh." Harry looked around the room in confusion for a second before laying his head back on his pillow. He was asleep again within a few minutes. Ginny was thankful he was able to fall back asleep. She slid from the bed. She knew he had left a mark on her face, it hadn't been his fault. She just needed to see how back it was.
She slipped into the bathroom. It took all her courage to look in the mirror. A red hand print covered her face from just below her left ear to across her nose. Sighing, she opened the medicine cabinet and pulled out the bruise ointment.
The small tube was almost empty. It never entirely kept her pale skin from bruising, but it did take some of pain away. She made a mental note to buy some more tomorrow.
