Disclaimer: I am not the fabulous Ms. Rowling. If I was, why would I be writing here?

Author's note: This is a kind of sequel to my first fanfic, O Holy Night, but it isn't necessary to read it to understand this one. I hope to continue this story – I have a plot all worked out. Enjoy!

Another night, another bout of insomnia.

Hermione sat in her bed, propped up against the headboard. Her hair was clipped back and her brow furrowed as she read through Joseph Gillams' report once again, still not digesting a word of information. This was her fifth night awake in a row. She had so far survived the days by taking liberal amounts of sleeplessness potion. She was fitful – she had little to no concentration but all the same longed to hit something repeatedly until she could fall, exhausted, to sleep.

But even in her sleep she wasn't safe. Dreams haunted her. Again and again she relived her parents' death, or imagined the death of those closest to her. Continually she was plagued by her utmost fear; the death of her two best friends. In her dreams they died like they had lived and fought. Side by side.

Not only her dreams frightened her. She couldn't bear to take a draught of dreamless sleep and hadn't since the death of her parents. Shell-shocked, she had sworn never to cast off any of the memories she had of her parents. As much as they hurt her, these visions kept her going, kept her angry enough for her not to be able to give up.

Abandoning her work, Hermione threw down the flimsy cardboard folder she held. She looked around at the almost bare room. Aside from the colourful hand-made throw she had received from Mrs. Weasley one Christmas, the only decorations Hermione owned were her photographs, hanging on the wall. She rose from her bed and pulled on robes over her pyjamas. She moved towards the pictures, studying them carefully, though each one was well known to her.

One was of the famous Trio in the early days; Hermione thought it must have been about second year, or possibly third. Third, she decided, noting the gold chain of a time-turner around the neck of her younger counterpoint. And how young she looked! How fresh, and optimistic, and happy! Ron was in the middle; his arm around both Harry and Hermione's shoulders, and all three wore identical smiles. Hermione remembered that day was the day Harry performed a Patronus to an astonished Quidditch crowd, and how unbelievably proud he had been of himself.

The next was of herself, Ron, Harry and Ginny on the Trio's last day of school. Both Ginny and Hermione were smiling through unmistakeable tears. Ron's arm was comfortably snuggled around Hermione's middle and Hermione remembered that that was the day that she and Ron had made their relationship 'official'. Ron could barely stop smiling that day, though Hermione remembered her own feeling of moroseness at the prospect of leaving school forever. Come to think of it, Ron's happy mood may not have been simply the fact that he and Hermione were now a couple – more than likely he was just relieved he was finally leaving school, with its classes and tests, behind. A small little grin playing around her mouth, Hermione focused on the next photograph.

This was just taken a few days after the previous one, Hermione remembered, and showed her and Ron, enveloped in each other's arms, grinning at the camera. Their love for one another was undeniable even then, but Hermione was saddened by the sudden feeling of loss she felt. She barely saw Ron any more – it had been over a month since she last clapped eyes on her favourite redhead.

The last was the most difficult for Hermione to look at. It was a muggle photo, slightly bent and a bit dog-eared. Hermione stood in the centre of the picture, Head Girl badge pinned to her front and her jubilant smile matching the ones on both her parents' faces. Hermione gently touched the photograph, as if wishing she could be swallowed into it, back to the last day she saw her parents alive.

She took a deep breath and turned her back on the photographs. Such happy moments, caught in time. Hermione knew that never again could she be as truly happy as she was in those pictures. But maybe – just maybe – if they won this war, there would be happy moments like those for everybody that came after.

She was awoken from her silent reverie by a tap on her window. She instinctively moved towards it, but then remembered herself and searched for her wand beneath the sea of paper on her desk. She finally got hold of it, and stepped towards the window again. Slowly she opened the latch and pushed it open. A minute owl landed on her hand, and gave her an affectionate nip. For a second Hermione's heart soared. Was it, perhaps, a letter from Ron? She hadn't heard from him in weeks, but hadn't expected to – he and Harry were doing a job for the Order. She petted the owl absent-mindedly, wondering what Ron would be writing to her for, and then detached the envelope from its leg. It was quite large, and strangely stiff. She opened the envelope, hoping to find some of Ron's familiar writing. Instead, a file and a note, written in quite a different style to Ron's, fell onto her bed. She picked up the not, her sudden feeling of elation burst.

Hermione,

I hope you are well and sleeping better. Molly has been quite worried about you, and asked me to invite you for Sunday dinner at midday. We just got hold of these runic symbols from the object and seeing as this is one of your areas of expertise, I thought I should hand them over to you. Owl me if you have any questions,

Sincerely,

Arthur.

Hermione picked up the file and flicked through it. She dropped in top of all her other papers with a sigh. Just one more thing to think about, she thought miserably. She returned to her bed, and pulled the sheets up to her neck. She thought briefly of Ron and Harry, somewhere boldly endangering their lives to destroy Voldemort. And me here, doing paperwork, she thought bitterly. She picked up Joseph Gillams' report once again, and by dawn she lay asleep, her face tear-stained.

Author's note: Please review! Constructive criticism only though!