Chapter 4

It was close to nine o'clock the next morning. Hermione and her parents were preparing to leave and visit her paternal extended family.

Her parents were upstairs at the moment, having waited until after breakfast to take fresh showers just before the three of them would leave. Hermione had already taken her normal one when she woke up. Thus, all she needed was her purse, which she had with her in the living room while waiting.

She was sitting in the middle of the sofa with Crookshanks in her lap, petting him as he purred away in comfort. Harry was sitting about half a foot to her left, holding the television remote as he flipped through the channels. He would stop at every channel for a minute or so before moving to the next one, like he was getting a taste of everything that was available since he actually had a chance to do so. Occasionally, his eyes would grow a bit wider and he would barely nod if he found something that seemed interesting to him, making her smile in her mind at how the simplest things could sometimes be the most enjoyable. The memory of reading with him yesterday flashing within her head only added more support for that thought.

All too soon, the tranquility of the moment was disturbed by a pair of footsteps in the hall, and then her mum and dad appeared in the doorway. Hermione picked up Crookshanks, who gave her an annoyed look as she put him down to her right before standing from the sofa. Harry, realizing that she and her parents would soon depart, turned off the TV and stood as well.

Miranda looked at Harry and said, "Well, Harry, the house is yours for the afternoon. I know you mentioned that you knew how to cook, so feel free to look through the kitchen for anything you want to eat for lunch. But Jack and I also left twenty pounds on the kitchen counter, if you might like to call the numbers for any one of the businesses listed on this," at which she handed him a notecard. "They'll deliver to the house if you give them the address, which I wrote on the other side of this card. In fact, just so you know, the Chinese restaurant is the first one listed, since you so enjoyed takeout that first night."

Harry blushed but flipped the card around and nodded upon verifying the information was there. Then, looking to both parents, he said, "Thank you for being so gracious, Mr. and Mrs. Granger. I know that not many parents would be willing to let even a friend of their child be alone in their house."

Jack clapped a hand on Harry's shoulder and said, "Think of it as our way of showing that we trust you."

Harry quietly replied, "I promise I won't let you down."

Miranda then suddenly interjected, "There is one thing you could do for us before we leave." When Harry looked questioningly at her, she continued, "Try out our first names. We appreciate how greatly polite you've been, but remember the first night how I said you needn't worry about being so formal?"

Harry seemed hesitant for a few seconds, but then it washed away as he said, "Alright then… Miranda, Jack. Thank you again for being so accommodating while I'm here."

He received a nod from both of them before Miranda responded, "You're welcome, Harry."

Hermione had just been hanging back, watching the entire scene. Her mum, after replying to Harry, then looked to her. "We'll give you two a minute alone. Jack and I will be waiting out front whenever you're ready, sweetheart." Hermione silently nodded, and then she heard her parents disappear out the front door.

Harry turned around to face her. The reluctant expression on his face was probably how she also appeared to him right now. Wanting to show her trust in him after last night, she stepped up to him and took his hands in hers. At the question growing in his eyes, she began to talk.

"My room is open to you. Feel free to look around and see if anything in there will interest you while we're gone. I know it's basically nothing but books, but the offer is there if you want it."

Harry's gaze went soft as he replied, "Thank you. It… it means a lot that you trust me." His eyes flicked down and to the left for a second before locking onto her eyes again. "I'll still go, if you want. I won't mind going for you."

She shook her head but gave him a smile. "No, it's OK. But thank you for offering." She then pulled him into a hug. Rather than being one of her crushing hugs, this one was more of a gentle embrace. He quickly reciprocated, and the two stood there in silence for a few seconds.

Hermione was the one to pull back. When they separated, she grabbed her purse. Looking at him one last time, she said, "Enjoy yourself, Harry."

His quiet response was, "You too, Hermione."

She then walked out into the hall, locking the front door before she shut it behind her as she left the house.

Her parents were waiting by the car and looked up when they heard the door open and close. She walked up to them and just said, "I'm ready." They nodded, and everyone quickly piled into the car, with Hermione getting in the back seat on the driver's side behind her father. And soon enough, the journey to see her grandparents had begun.

After a few minutes of silence, Hermione grew suspicious. Normally, they would all talk to one another in car rides. Even if she remained silent, her parents would have a conversation with each other. And in the times that they all wanted to be quiet, the radio would at least be playing. The fact that the only sound in the air was the engine of the car had her feeling as though her parents wanted to talk about something serious. Figuring she knew what the subject was going to be, she just decided to rip the bandage off and find out if she was right.

"Alright, you're both being silent and not playing the radio. I know you're trying to gear up to talk about something, which I assume relates to Harry since he isn't here."

Jack and Miranda took a quick glance at each other before she turned around as much as possible in her seat to face Hermione. "Not necessarily. It's more that we're worried about you. Are you alright? We both know that you trust Harry, just going by how you fought so hard for him after he left in the summer. That's why we were surprised at your sudden question last night, and saddened about how that night in Australia might still be affecting you."

At least they hadn't started by full-on blaming Harry, Hermione thought. She heaved a sigh and looked out the car window before replying. "It was his words. When he talked about being with family after having not seen them for a long time, his words felt so similar to what he said in Australia that I couldn't help flashing back there for a moment. And it terrified me so much that I blurted out that question."

She turned her gaze to the front, knowing that the downcast expression on her face would be quite obvious. "The worst part about it, Mum, is that there was no reason for me to ask that. Even if Harry was actually going to leave, he never would have just left while everyone else was away, nor would he abandon me in the middle of the night without a word. He would have told me outright what he would be doing, like he did in Australia. I feel like I could have jeopardized my friendship with him because of that question, let alone the hopes of anything more, if not for the fact that Harry is so bloody noble that he blamed himself first."

Hermione looked out the window again, the weight of what her words last night could have done finally sinking in. A minute later, she was confused when they started slowing down, and her father pulled the car into a parking lot. Her mother got out but immediately climbed into the back and buckled up in the middle seat. Then, the car was moving, and they were back on the road again.

Miranda put a comforting hand on Hermione's shoulder and said, "Shouldn't that put you more at ease, then? The fact that he took your question seriously and didn't blame you for asking it?"

"Not to mention that declaration he gave," Jack added from the front. "We know he greatly values your friendship by being willing to face us again just because you asked him to. At the train platform, we could see how terrified he was, but he still came for you. So, for him to make a vow on your friendship… even I can tell that the boy thinks the world of you."

Hermione gave her parents a wistful smile, though her dad couldn't see from driving. Then, after her mum pulled her hand away, Hermione replied, "Well, you know how my mind works, and I worry about things. But I know you're right, because when Harry and I arrived at the junction of our rooms last night, I couldn't help but say to him that I hoped I hadn't ruined his day. He didn't hesitate even for an instant when he told me that it didn't, before immediately going into how much fun he had with decorating the tree and our shenanigans with the tinsel. And…"

She trailed off, unable to help getting momentarily lost in the joy brought forth from the memory of simply sitting next to Harry on the sofa and reading a book with him. Her feelings must have shown through in her expression, because she was brought back to reality when she heard her mother's voice.

"Sorry, Jack. Looks like you're going to have to listen to girl talk, because I'm not passing up this chance."

A chuckle emanated from the driver's seat. "Not like I could stop you even if I wanted to, Miranda."

Miranda looked at Hermione with an almost eager expression and said, "Alright girl, whatever it was that gave you that lovey-dovey expression, spill it."

Hermione fired back, "You'll probably just be disappointed."

Miranda only raised an eyebrow, an indication that she was waiting for the information, so Hermione sighed and began the story. "Well, Harry and I went into the living room after breakfast yesterday. I was afraid that, since I usually read books in my spare time, he might think things are too boring around me."

Her mum gave her a sympathetic look at the last statement. Hermione pushed on before they could linger on that bit.

"I started rambling about things that he could do which wouldn't involve books. But then, he interrupted me and asked about the book I had been reading that morning. As I told him about it, and about my eagerness for learning even from a young age, Harry confided in me some things that he wished had been different about his childhood, which I refuse to get into without his explicit permission." She gave her mother a stern look, and Miranda just nodded and held her hands up in surrender for a second before gesturing for Hermione to continue.

"After that and some other things he said, I realized that I was keeping him talking about more depressing subjects instead of letting him have the peace that I wanted for him, so I told him that he didn't have to hang around me anymore. But then…"

When Hermione thought about the memory this time, she felt a few happy tears rising in her eyes, and she quickly kept speaking so that her mum wouldn't get the wrong idea. "Then, he actually asked, in a very awkward but adorable way, if we could sit and read the book together. When I asked if he really wanted to do that, he nodded and said that it was something which I enjoyed, and that he didn't want me to feel like I needed to change myself just because he was staying with us."

Miranda's eyes grew larger, and her mouth slowly opened in a wide smile. From the front, Jack couldn't help asking in amazement, "Did he really say that?"

Giggling a bit in her mind from the fact that her father was now getting actively involved in the conversation, Hermione joyfully replied, "He really did, Dad. And so, we sat there for those hours on the sofa, reading the book. It felt so much like an actual date, even though we weren't really doing anything. He even let me link our fingers together when I moved to hold his hand after a while. And the part that I trailed off on when I was telling you earlier about the end of last night… after he mentioned the decorating, though he grew very nervous, he confessed that he had fun reading the book with me. I can't begin to express how much it made my heart flutter. And when I said that maybe we could do that again, or something else together that he might enjoy, he smiled and replied that he would like that. Then, I gave him a kiss on the cheek, and I went to my room to end the night."

Finally coming to the end of her story, Hermione looked back to her mum, who appeared to be so elated that she looked like she was trying very hard to suppress squeals of joy.

Hermione couldn't see her dad's reaction, but she sure could hear the wonder in his voice when he spoke. "Even if I wanted to hate the young man, or even if I'd hated him as you started telling that story, I don't think I could muster any urge to dislike him after hearing such a thing. Any man who will say that you don't have to change for them to accept you… if he's willing to take your relationship beyond friendship, then you've got yourself a keeper in my book, Hermione."

Miranda then grabbed Hermione in as much of a hug as the seatbelts would allow. "Oh sweetheart, I'm so happy that you're finding happiness, especially after every ordeal you've suffered over the years."

When they separated, Hermione replied with a bit of skepticism. "Easy there, Mum. While I am happy how things are going, Harry and I aren't actually together right now. And it's more important to me that, after everything he's been through, especially this year, he can get some peace of mind, even if that's just for this holiday break. I don't want to weigh him down with something else so soon."

Her mum gave a piercing stare, as though she was looking into Hermione's very soul, before asking one question. "And what if knowing that you feel something more for him does give him that peace and happiness, Hermione?"

Hermione's mind went blank, and she had no clue how to respond. She looked down to the floor, not seeing the concerned glance her father shot to her in the rearview mirror, nor the worry on her mother's face.

She felt a hand on her shoulder again, causing her to look up. Her mum then gently said, "Tell me, how much thinking did you do about your idea to bring Harry home with you before you told him?"

While Hermione was confused, she replied, "None at all, really. Harry told me about not having a family to celebrate this Christmas with now that the war was over, and it made me think about your letter and how you and Dad asked about Harry. At that point, I didn't stop to think and just immediately uttered that he should come with me for the holidays, and I was obviously able to persuade him."

Her mum gave her a soft smile before responding. "That means you listened to your heart rather than thinking with your head. And even if it's only been a few days, look how far things have come since then, for both you and Harry. Maybe for this situation with your feelings, you should try listening to your heart a little more."

Hermione became thoughtful at the statement. Maybe her mother was right. Maybe she did need to take more heed of the words from her heart. Coming out of her thoughts, she leaned forward and gave her mum a hug. "I'll try. Thank you, Mum."

The response was a quiet, "Anytime, Little Worm."

A few minutes later, Jack pulled off into another parking lot to allow Miranda to sit back in the front seat. After doing so, Hermione had one request for her parents while the car was idle. "Mum, Dad… please don't say anything about this to the rest of the family just yet? I want things to have a chance to play out first."

Jack replied, "Won't say a word, I promise."

"And I promise, as well," Miranda added.

Hermione gave a nod and said, "Thank you both."

As the journey to her grandparents' house grew a bit lighter after that, with her parents talking to one another now that the previous conversation was over, she hoped that everything would turn out such that both she and Harry would find happiness.

-O-

In the Granger household, at about four o'clock in the afternoon, Harry was currently lying on the bed in the guest room, staring up at the ceiling with his hands behind his head. Since Hermione and her parents had left, he'd spent most of his time reading more of the encyclopedia book that he and Hermione had read together the previous day. He'd stopped for lunch about an hour ago when his stomach growled and brought him out of the prehistoric world he was perusing. He ate a simple ham sandwich with an orange, not wanting to cook something more extravagant without the family being there. He also hadn't felt comfortable enough to use the money Miranda and Jack had left for him, even though he had been sorely tempted to call and order some delivered Chinese food.

He gave a snort at his last thought. For all his trepidations, he apparently was already comfortable enough with calling Hermione's parents by their first names in his mind after Miranda had asked him to that morning. That's something he would never in a million years have thought would happen, even after he'd explicitly been given the permission two nights ago. Of course, he owed the courage that allowed him to do so all to Hermione, who'd been fretting so much about him since she'd found him in the Gryffindor common room. If there were any actions he could take to be on great terms with her parents, then he would take them.

Hermione…

He couldn't help heaving a sigh at coming back to the reason he was lying on the bed. His quick lunch had given him time to start thinking on things, and every one of his thoughts had led straight to Hermione. Of course, that had been happening in some manner for a longer period than he'd let on.

He'd told Hermione that the nights where he went straight to the common room were always the worst nightmares. What she didn't know, however, was that his worst nightmares were always about her. The Department of Mysteries, only Neville doesn't find any pulse at all. Malfoy Manor, only he listens to, or sometimes even has to watch, Bellatrix torture her to death. The clearing where he met Riddle in the Forbidden Forest, only Hermione had tried to follow him, got captured, and then gets murdered in front of him before Riddle does the same to Harry.

They didn't even have to involve her dying, but rather her not believing in him or staying at his side. A dream of fourth year, where even she refuses to think that he didn't enter himself into the Triwizard Tournament. One of the Horcrux hunt, where she goes with Ron and leaves Harry all alone for the rest of his short life. One after Riddle is dead, where she says that she's tired of being in dangerous situations now that the war is over and then says goodbye forever. And then there were many nightmares where she would be one of the voices, if not the loudest voice, telling him that his only purpose in life had been fulfilled.

Harry couldn't help shaking his head at his thoughts. He kept her at arm's length all year regarding his issues because he hadn't wanted to burden her with anything else after the war, and he'd only made her worry more and more by doing so. Is it any wonder why he'd thought Hermione should have deserted him long ago, even though it was the last thing he wanted?

But she never did, and he thanked the heavens profusely that she possessed enough tenacity to keep trying to get him to talk. If she hadn't just happened to come down to the common room three nights ago, and hadn't pleaded with him to open up to her and finally cracked the shell that he'd placed around himself, he wasn't sure how he would have lasted all alone up at Hogwarts. Somehow, the touch of her hand combined with her desperate begging had broken all of his restraint and made him finally confess about how lost he felt with the war over.

At that thought, Harry brought his hands out in front of his face and stared at them for a few seconds before placing them back behind his head. Hermione had been so much more affectionate ever since he opened up to her that night. Whenever their conversation would take a serious turn, she would gently hold one or even both of his hands. And he had to admit… her touch was almost like a salve for his entire soul, because the action was a reassurance to him that she was here, still at his side even through all of his problems. It wouldn't surprise him if she'd already picked up on that, considering that she was able to notice the disbelief that he'd tried to hide in his tone about sleeping well.

And that wasn't even going into the kisses…

He instinctually brought his left hand to the spot on his cheek where she kissed him before bed the last two nights, and he held it there for about ten seconds before returning the hand to its original position. He still felt a little shocked not only that she had done it at all, but also that it had happened two nights in a row. And as for the kisses themselves, they felt tender, caring… loving.

While it remained to be seen how long this reprieve from his nightmares would last, Harry was sure that her increased affection, along with her pledge on the train about never giving up on him, was why the perpetual nightmares had disappeared for the last two nights. Maybe his subconscious was beginning to believe that there might still be a single place where he belonged, even if he didn't truly know what he wanted to do with his life.

There was, however, one thought that now occupied his mind. While he possibly had a place beside Hermione in his future… was that place as just a friend, or something more? Was Hermione only trying to be comforting to him as a close friend, given the issues he'd revealed? Or was she really trying to tell him that she felt more for him than just friendship?

And if she did feel that way, would he be willing to take the risk with her for a deeper relationship?

Harry couldn't stop the scoff that left his mouth. There probably couldn't have been a more stupid question in the universe. Hermione was his best friend, the one person to never let him down, even if she now thought differently on the latter regarding both their sixth year at Hogwarts as well as the summer after fourth year. She had been completely willing to die at his side. And now, all she wanted was for him to be happy.

Even if he just used a friendship standpoint, he already knew that he cared for her, trusted her, and wanted her to be happy as well. And yesterday, he basically asked her out on a date when he brought up reading the book together. Her response at the end of the night that they could do something like that again gave him the warmest feeling of joy he probably ever experienced. So, if Hermione did actually have deeper feelings for him, there was nothing in the universe that would get him to reject her.

"If she does feel that way," Harry said out loud, somewhat dejectedly. Because that was the largest unknown in the equation. With everything that had happened in the war and since, and how he easily could or should be completely alone right now with how he'd pushed everyone away, he wasn't sure he was brave enough to risk asking Hermione directly about her feelings. Even just having her friendship, after all that happened, was a precious thing. He was in no position to ask more from her, especially when she was already trying to do whatever she could to pull him out of his anguish stemming from not knowing where to go in life after the war.

"Be happy with what you have right now," he murmured. "Be happy that she said she'll never give up on you, which means you'll at least always have her as a friend, since Hermione wouldn't lie to you. And if you can finally get rid of this funk that you're in, and she's still around… well, maybe then we'll see what happens."

Harry shifted to lie on his left side, facing the wall. He closed his eyes and took deep breaths, trying to convince himself of his own words.

When he opened his eyes after some time, he sat up in fright and looked all around, with his blood beginning to run cold.

He wasn't in the bedroom at Hermione's house. He was at the King's Cross Station platform.

Standing up and trying to keep his breathing calm, he said, "This can't be real. I'm at Hermione's house right now, waiting for her to come home. This has to be a dream."

"Does it matter if it is?"

He instantly turned around at the sound of the voice, and a pit started growing in his stomach. He hadn't imagined it.

Hermione was standing there, a flat expression on her face.

Harry had no idea how to respond, but he didn't have a chance to try since she continued speaking. "Some people say that dreams can be a way for our subconscious to send us messages that we wouldn't realize or are deliberately ignoring. So, if this is a dream, what do you think the message might be?"

He closed his eyes, shook his head, and muttered, "Wake up. Please wake up. You need to wake up." But when he opened his eyes, nothing had changed. He was still standing on the train platform, staring at Hermione.

She frowned slightly as she told him, "Or maybe it isn't a dream. Maybe we're both dead after you gave yourself up in the Forbidden Forest, and King's Cross is our way of moving on to the afterlife. And all that you thought took place after that event was just a series of flashing images in your mind as you were about to die. But that wouldn't really change the idea that your mind is trying to tell you something, would it?"

Hermione then hardened her expression and stepped up until she was just inches away. "And I think I know what that something is. The message is… what makes you think that you will always have a place at my side, let alone being there as more than a friend?"

He could feel himself starting to hyperventilate, as her harsh words sank in. He had to fight this, but his voice quivered when he responded. "You told me that I was important to you, and that you would never give up on me. And you would never lie to me."

Still looking at him almost as if he was an enemy, she replied, "Forever is a long time, Harry. And everything has a breaking point. How can you be certain that I will never reach that point, even when everyone else you know already has?"

Realistically, he knew there was no denial he could give. But he was desperately trying to hold onto the last vestiges of his willpower in order to keep from breaking down, though the tears rising in his eyes were an easy indication that he was very much losing that fight. "I… I have to believe it. Because if I lost even your friendship, I don't know what I would do."

She gave him what he could only call a cold smirk. "And that's really what it comes down to, isn't it? You're still that lost, little boy that doesn't know the reason why he's trying to continue forward in life. Especially so now that the one thing you were born and raised to do is finished. That's probably why you're clinging onto me so badly, isn't it? You're more dependent on me than I am on you, so how can you be sure that whatever you feel is genuine?"

Harry closed his eyes and lowered his head. Tears finally began to stream down his face as he thought about Hermione's statements. He couldn't refute the argument about his reliance on her. She could survive without him, but he would never survive without her.

He heard her say, "Harry," but he didn't move a muscle. He was too afraid to look at her when she spoke whatever else was on her mind.

"Harry!" This time, her call was an exclamation… and more concerned.

Then, there was a hand on his arm, which began to shake him. "Harry, please wake up!"

Suddenly, he felt himself falling backwards, but instead of hitting the hard ground when his body was nearly horizontal, he felt a soft surface beneath him. His eyes jerked open, and he instinctually sat up. When he turned his head, he found himself staring into a pair of frightened, chocolate eyes.

-O-

The three Grangers pulled into their driveway right after six o'clock that evening. The return trip ended up being an hour longer than the drive from earlier that morning thanks to some heavy holiday traffic. While Hermione was happy to have seen her paternal grandparents, aunts, and uncles, she couldn't help being glad about arriving home. She had never felt comfortable enough to tell the rest of the family about her magic, since there was no way of knowing how they would react or if they would even keep that knowledge secret. Thus, she was always somewhat on pins and needles whenever any of them asked her about her school life.

Not to mention… she really would rather spend this holiday break with Harry.

After her dad unlocked and opened the front door, she rushed in ahead of him and shouted, "Harry! We're home!"

Ignoring the chuckles from her parents behind her, she looked in the living room and only found Crookshanks lying on the sofa. In fact, Harry wasn't on the first floor at all. A spark of fear rose within her. It wasn't that she was afraid he had left. He had promised her that he wouldn't leave the house, and Hermione had faith in that promise. No, her anxiety was being driven by a single question.

What if something terrible had happened, and she wasn't here to help him?

When she reached the second floor, she called out again, "Harry! We're here!" She waited a few seconds, but there wasn't a single sound made in response that she could hear.

Hermione's terror began to grow. He had to be alright, he just had to be. She pulled out her wand and decided to check every room as she went down the hall. He was nowhere to be found in her parents' room, and she could tell he wasn't in the hall bathroom since the door was wide open. But when she got to the junction of his room and hers, she found that his door was just barely cracked open.

Not wanting to take any chances in case this was some kind of trap, she stepped as quietly as she could to his door. Putting her left hand at the doorknob, she took a deep breath and counted to three in her head. Then, she grabbed the doorknob and entered the room as quickly as possible, pointing her wand ahead as she crossed the threshold. To her great relief, a quick scan of the room revealed only Harry lying on the bed, seemingly asleep since he hadn't responded to her unsubtle entry, so she put her wand back in her jacket.

Fear quickly washed over her again, however, as she began walking towards him. His face appeared to be contorted in pain. And when she was standing next to the bed, her heart broke when she saw the streams of tears flowing down his cheeks.

He was trapped in a nightmare. She had to pull him out somehow.

"Harry," she said, trying to see if he would waken with just her voice, but he never moved or seemed like he heard.

"Harry!" She called out a little louder, but still to no avail. Well, regardless of whatever reaction she may face, he needed her right now. And if her touch had helped get him to open up to her about the issues that had been plaguing him, then maybe it could help to pull him out of whatever nightmare he was in.

Putting her hand on his right arm, she began to shake him. As she did so, she cried out with a tremble in her voice, "Harry, please wake up!"

His face twitched for a moment before his eyes flew wide open, and he instantly sat up afterwards, gasping for breath. When he finally looked over at her, she could feel her heart ripping further apart at the absolute terror in his expression, as though he was afraid of her reaction about something.

He shifted his position so that he could throw his legs over the side of the bed and rest his feet on the carpet, but he remained sitting, leaning forward a bit with his arms on his knees and his head hanging low. Hermione sat on his left side, desperately wanting to comfort him. She took hold of his left hand and laced their fingers together. He glanced at their linked hands but only for a second, turning his gaze back to the floor afterwards as he continued to take unsteady breaths.

While this was probably the most stupid question she could ever ask, she had to start the conversation out somehow, and this would only require a one-word answer. "Was it one of your nightmares?"

Though his gaze never moved from the floor, he gave her a short nod.

She squeezed his hand a bit tighter and then hesitantly asked, "Do you… want to talk about it?"

His eyes closed in agony, stoking every one of her fears and worries. After a few seconds of silence, he shook his head. With a quiver in every word, he choked out, "Please, Hermione. Please not now. It… it's too fresh. Please… can I just have time to myself to calm down?"

His nightmare involved her, she deduced. It had to, if he was so frightened about how she might react if she knew what happened. She felt another stab of pain in her heart that he might think that he can't confide in her about whatever happened to him in the dream.

Still, she wouldn't push him right now. All she could do is remind him that she was always here for him.

Remembering the conversation with her parents in the car, Hermione decided to try listening to her heart. Reaching over with her left hand, she placed it on his right cheek, causing his eyes to fly open and his posture to straighten. Then, she guided his head until his despair-filled emerald eyes were locked onto her.

After a second, she tenderly whispered, "I told you on the train that I would never ask more from you than what you were willing to give, and I still stand by those words. Just know that, if you ever do feel ready to talk about what happened, I'm always here." Then, she leaned up and placed a soft kiss to the scar on his forehead. Though the pain didn't leave his expression, she could see his eyes soften just a bit.

Hermione let go of his cheek and unlinked her right hand from him, as she moved to stand up. When she turned to the doorway, however, she stopped when she saw her parents watching from the entrance, their anxious expressions plainly obvious. She figured she might be in for a talk when they all left.

As she began walking to the doorway, she stopped when Harry called out, "Wait!"

She went back and sat next to him before quietly saying, "What is it, Harry?"

He took a deep breath, obviously preparing for something, and replied, "Tomorrow… I'll tell you tomorrow. I don't know exactly when, but I promise it will be tomorrow."

"Harry," she said with concern, "you don't need to push yourself to talk if you aren't ready."

"No, Hermione, I want to. I don't…"

He glanced away when he trailed off and took another deep breath. When he looked back at her, a flicker of hope took root within her at seeing a hint of determination in his expression as he continued. "I don't want to shut you out like I've done all year, especially after how you've gone out of your way to help me. I trust you, Hermione, and I want to show that. So, even though I don't think I can handle discussing everything tonight, that's why I'm giving you a promise that I'll tell you after a little time to compose myself."

Unable to fight the small smile that grew on her face, she leaned in and embraced him, feeling his arms hug her the same way an instant later. Then, she whispered into his ear, "Then whenever you feel ready tomorrow, I'll be waiting. And thank you for trusting me."

Harry didn't say anything, but he squeezed her just a little tighter for a couple of seconds before pulling back. There was still hurt in his eyes, but the tiny smile he gave her strengthened her hope that he'd begun dragging himself out of the depths where his nightmare had placed him.

She stood from the bed again, but before walking away, she asked in a voice loud enough that she knew her parents would hear from the doorway, "Have you had any dinner yet? Do you want me to bring up something for you?"

He shook his head and replied, "No, that's alright. I'm not very hungry right now, especially since I ate a late lunch just a few hours ago. But thank you for offering. I'm just going to stay up here. I've got my school books in my trunk if I get bored later."

Hermione tenderly said, "Well, alright then. But if you need anything at all, don't hesitate to come find me."

He simply responded, "Thank you, Hermione."

Sensing the conversation had reached its end, she turned and walked to her parents, and Harry didn't try to stop her this time. She gestured to her parents that they should leave, but they spoke to Harry first.

"Harry," Miranda gently called out, "if there's anything at all that Jack or I can do for you, please let us know."

Jack added, "While we know that you trust Hermione and would go to her first, we want you to know that the offer is still there."

Harry's shy reply was, "Thank you both. I, I appreciate that a lot."

With that, the three Grangers left the room, and Hermione smiled at him one last time before she closed the door behind her.

Not a word was said as the three of them walked downstairs and into the kitchen. Hermione and Jack sat down at the table, while Miranda walked over to the oven and turned it on to heat up. She then pulled out a pizza from the freezer and a pizza pan from the cabinet, setting them on the counter before then taking her own seat at the table. The silence continued to hold until the oven beeped, to which Miranda opened up the pizza and then placed it into the oven.

As she sat back down, she was the first to speak. "I can't imagine what could have frightened Harry into such a state that he was afraid to even tell you, Hermione."

Not moving her gaze from the table, Hermione flatly replied, "His nightmare was something to do with me, Mum. It had to be."

Jack asked, "What makes you so sure?"

She looked up and locked eyes with her father. "Because, Dad, when he said that he wasn't yet ready to talk, it was like he was afraid of how I would react if I learned about what happened. But when I reiterated to him that I would always be here for him, that seemed to give him the strength to want to open up, even if it's not tonight. Whether it was me dying or something else, I know that I had to have been involved in some manner."

Jack shook his head and sighed. "That damned war you two were forced into, and all the other tragedies throughout his life. The young man deserves better than the lot he's been given."

Miranda reached over and grabbed her husband's hand. "Well, we've let him know that we're all here for him. And I know that if anyone can help him out of his pain, it'll be our Little Worm," looking over to Hermione at the last bit.

Hermione didn't say anything, simply praying in her mind that her mother would be correct.

The rest of the evening was quiet. They saved two pieces of pizza for Harry to have later or tomorrow. And after dinner, Hermione went up to her room to read, or at least try to, until bedtime. She left her door open in case she stayed up here until her parents went to bed, or if Harry might need anything. His door had still been closed when she arrived, so she hoped that he was OK.

The thought of Harry made her start recalling the memory of reading with him on the sofa, and an idea popped into her head. She began checking her bookshelves for a certain set of books. Not finding them, she opened up her closet and went to the two boxes sitting in the back. She meticulously dug through, hoping that she hadn't lost those books. She didn't want to have to do a Summoning Charm without giving fair warning to her parents to be out of the way in case the books were in an odd location.

About halfway through the second box, she found exactly what she was looking for and quietly exclaimed, "Yes!" They were the remaining three books of her history set that she'd talked about with Harry. If he had enjoyed reading the Mesozoic Era book, maybe he would like starting from the very beginning, whether he did it together with her or on his own. She placed the books on her desk so that she would easily be able to find them later.

After that, believing that her mind wouldn't be able to truly focus on any book to read, she simply lied down on her bed. Gazing up at the ceiling, she lost herself in memories of Harry since their friendship began that Halloween night in 1991. Time must have passed more quickly than she realized, as the next thing she was aware of was her parents knocking on her door. They told her that they were heading to bed and said to let them know if she or Harry needed anything. She nodded and said good night, and her parents walked off towards their room.

Looking up at her clock, Hermione saw that it was about nine-thirty, so she decided to try and sleep as well. Before that, however, she had to check on Harry. After the earlier events of the evening, she couldn't go to bed without first knowing that he was alright.

Going up to Harry's door, she opened it as quietly as she could and found the room shrouded in darkness. Slipping in and pushing the door almost all the way closed so that no light would shine in, she let her eyes adjust to the darkness before looking towards the bed. Harry was asleep, lying on his right side. While his face was nowhere near as pained as it had been when she burst in earlier that evening, he did still appear to be tense. She couldn't help but wonder in sadness if he always slept with some degree of tension since even before the end of the war.

Recalling the previous two nights, and deciding that this was simply going to be a nightly tradition unless Harry told her otherwise, she slowly tiptoed to the side of his bed. Then, she leaned down and kissed his cheek before whispering as quietly as possible, "Sleep well, Harry."

Hermione felt a modicum of relief at seeing his face slowly relax until he appeared to actually be peacefully asleep. She crept out of his room and shut the door without a sound. Making her way back to her room, she closed her own door and heaved a sigh. She prayed that she could find a way to give him enough strength to finally pull himself out of the darkness in which he seemed to be forever trapped.


A/N: With one full scene from Harry's point of view this time, things got a little heavier again. The problems plaguing Harry's mind weren't going to immediately go away just because he agreed to come home with Hermione. Of course, anyone familiar with my previous works can probably guess what direction things will start to move in from here.

If you made it this far, thank you for reading, and I hope you stay tuned for more!