A/N:I don't own Harry Potter or any related characters

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Assignment #1 Religious Studies - Task #3: Zakat - In accordance with Islamic law, Muslims donate a fixed portion of their income to community members in need.

Prompt: Write about helping someone in need (not necessarily financially).

Word Count: 816

Percy blinked hearing the knock on his door. It was late, he didn't know exactly what time it was, but it was still dark. He grabbed his glasses and walked over to the door of his bedroom. He used to share with Bill and Charlie, but since they had moved out, he had the room to himself. He opened the wooden door and stared at the witch standing in front of him. At first, he thought he was still dreaming. He'd had a fair amount of dreams that started off just this way, well almost like this.

"Hermione? What?" he asked. She was wearing a frost white nightgown, her feet were bare and her eyes were darting around wildly. He could tell she was terrified, that something had scared her. He stepped aside and let her into his room. She looked around quickly. Percy followed her, watching her.

"I can't... I can't sleep," she mumbled, rocking back and forth slowly. Percy gently guided her to his desk chair, managing to get her to sit down. She calmed slightly, her breathing still rapid.

"You had a nightmare?" he asked. She nodded, shaking slightly. Percy grabbed the nearest blanket, a black fleecey one he'd gotten as a gift somewhere along the line and wrapped it around her.

"Can you talk about it?" he asked, knowing even if she didn't remember it, she might want to talk anway.

"We won," Hermione whispered. "We won, and then, then there was flash of light and everyone was on the ground. Everyone was dead. I was standing there and the air turned cold, really cold and I could see my breath, like smoke. I started screaming and screaming and then, then I woke up and... and, and, and I didn't know where I was," Hermione sobbed, shaking so badly the chair shook beneath her. Percy nodded, gently putting his hands on hers. Her hands were cold, her skin was cold. He had a feeling he knew exactly why.

"It's alright. You're safe now. The war is over, we did win, but none of that happened. There was no flash of killing light. We're all alive, all sleeping right now. And it was probably cold because Ginny left the window open again when she sneaked out. Your skin is cold too," he added.

Hermione let out a little hiccup sound laugh.

"She's not very stealthy is she," she muttered. "You're right, the window is probably open, and the curtains blowing probably contributed to some of the nightmare. I'm sorry for waking you up, I... I wasn't sure what to do. I know Ron would just dismiss it, if he even woke up and the twins, I don't think I could talk to them like this. You're always here for me it seems," she smiled slightly. "I probably should head back to bed. It's late, of course, Ginny might be sneaking back in and wake me the moment I fall back asleep."

"You could stay here. I'll sleep on the floor. You wouldn't have to worry about Ginny's coming and goings?" Percy offered, holding his breath that she would stay. He knew he never wanted to be alone after a nightmare. Just being in the same room as someone was a comfort.

"Or we could share the bed. Don't give me that look, Percy. We're both adults and I meant just for sleeping, actual sleeping. I think I might feel better in your arms," she whispered. Percy nodded as Hermione rose from the chair and climbed into the bed. Percy slid in next to her. She laid her head on his chest, her breathing slowly matching the rise and fall. Within moments she was asleep, using Percy as a pillow. He smiled, wrapping an arm around her.

He had never meant to fall in love with Hermione Granger, never meant to completely steal her from his youngest brother, but it had happened slowly. He smiled thinking about the first time she's smiled at him, how she'd laughed at a joke he'd made about an obscure wizard he'd read about. No one else had gotten the joke.

They always sat together watching everyone else play Quidditch. He'd quoted statistics about the moves and plays he thought everyone would make. She'd understood the numbers, adding her own. They'd survived the war together. He still hadn't found the courage to tell her how he felt, but obvious she felt something for him, she obviously trusted him enough to find her way to his room for comfort. That was something.

Tomorrow, he'd figure out how to ask her out properly, how to take their friendship in a new direction. He smiled looking at her sleeping. There was a smile on her face and he wondered if she was dreaming about him. Carefully he leaned forward just slightly and kissed her forehead.

"Good night, Hermione," he whispered. "Sweet dreams."