It started with a nightmare.
A cruel laugh. A blinding flash of green light.
Her falling to the ground.
Dead.
The light forever extinguished from her eyes.
"I'll go with you," she had said.
He declined her offer; vehemently declined it, in fact. There was no way in hell would he let her follow him into the forest. He was going there to die and that was not something he wanted her to witness.
So he'd told her no; told her and Ron to find the snake instead. He gave her a hug and cherished the last bit of warmth he felt before he left the two of them on the ruined steps of Hogwarts.
She wasn't supposed to follow him, damnit! She wasn't supposed to be there. She wasn't supposed to throw herself in front of the green light to protect him.
She wasn't supposed to die.
But she did.
He woke up drenched in sweat, his chest heaving from the terror he'd experienced in his sleep. His heart was pounding as tears poured from his tired eyes.
It took him a moment to realize he wasn't alone in his room at Grimmauld Place. There was someone else there sitting at the edge of his bed. The person was gently stroking his back while whispering sweet words into the darkness.
"It's okay, Harry, it's okay," she said. The familiar voice anchored him to reality. "I'm here," she continued.
She was.
She was there. With him.
Hermione wasn't dead.
Harry sobbed in relief and turned to gather her into his arms. Hermione moved in the darkness and embraced him as he buried his face into her neck. He clung to her like a liferaft, knowing that her presence was what kept him from becoming adrift in the boundless terrors of the night.
"Shh," Hermione whispered, as she stroked the back of his head. "It's okay, Harry. It's alright."
She'd woken up that night to the wretched screams of her name coming from the room next door. She flung the sheets off her body and rushed into Harry's room without a second thought. She found him thrashing on the bed, still asleep, as tears spilled from the corner of his shut eyes. He cried her name over, and over, and over again.
She immediately rushed to his bedside to wake him up. Every anguished cry of her name was like a searing dagger to her heart. She called to him and hugged him to take away all of the pain.
The war ended two days ago and they all bore battle scars. A lot of the scars were physical, but a lot more weren't visible to the naked eye.
"I'm here, Harry," she murmured. The hands around her body tightened. "I'm here, and I'm staying," she declared softly, but firmly. "You need to sleep. We need to sleep."
She didn't wait for him to agree with her proposition. She folded her body under the covers and laid down onto the bed. She pulled him down to lay next to her. They faced each other in the darkness.
He was silent, though she soon felt a tired hand land at the top of her waist. She wrapped her arms around him again and Harry drew her ever closer to his form. She buried her face into his chest.
In each other's arms, they drifted to slumber.
It was peaceful.
Ron didn't question when he knocked on Harry's door the following morning and the two of them emerged.
He understood for he was dealing with his own demons.
Neither Harry or Hermione spoke of what happened that night. They went about their day as normally as possible, or as normal as it could have gone whilst dealing with the aftermaths of a war.
There were bodies left to be found. The dead needed to be identified. Affairs needed to be settled.
And Teddy… he needed to go to Andromeda to tell his godson that his parents weren't coming home.
When he returned to 12 Grimmauld Place late that night, he didn't go to his own room. He was exhausted, mentally, physically, emotionally. All he wanted to do was fall into bed and sleep the night away. But he couldn't, since he knew what awaited him in his sleep if he slept alone.
Without thinking, he walked across the hall to stand in front of her room. Harry brought up his fist to knock but stopped before his knuckles touched the wood.
He didn't want to be so needy. She must be so tired too. She shouldn't have to worry about him, he wasn't her responsibility—
But the door opened, and Hermione stood in front of him. He briefly saw past her head and into her room. A candle was lit by her little sitting area and a book laid open on top of the small table.
She saw the exhaustion in his eyes, in his slumped shoulders, in the downturned corners of his lips. She was waiting for him to return home so she could ask about Teddy but those questions could wait for another day.
Hermione took his hand and led him across the threshold of her room.
"You look tired," she said. It felt like something was stuck in his throat so he could only nod.
He saw her smile softly in the candlelight.
"Let's go to sleep then."
He watched her place the bookmark between the pages of her book before closing it. She blew out the candle.
She walked to her bed and climbed underneath the covers.
He followed.
Days turned to weeks which then turned to months.
Every night, if the circumstances would allow, they slept together.
It didn't matter how late they got back from whatever it was that they were doing that day. Neither one would sleep without the other there.
At first, Harry thought it was only him who needed her presence. It wasn't until late into the night in mid-September that he realized she needed him too.
He spent the day with Teddy, and returned home to find Hermione reading on his bed. Rather, it looked like she was reading since the book was opened on her lap but her eyes were red-rimmed. She wasn't turning any pages either.
He sat next to her. She immediately turned to him and buried her face into his chest with a sniff.
Harry stroked the back of her head as she cried.
"Tell me what's wrong," he said softly.
"I visited them again," she murmured.
He knew who "they" were. Her parents. Hermione had restored their memories after the war.
"I told them I was sorry," she continued. "I told them again why I had to do it. They would've been killed! But… they said they couldn't forgive me. Ever."
Harry remained silent but hugged her tighter.
"I begged them to come back home. I told them it was my birthday tomorrow… asked them if maybe we could celebrate together," she said, her voice shaking. "But they said they no longer have a daughter. They lost their old lives when I wiped their memories. They said I only have myself to blame."
She cried and he held her.
"I'm so sorry Hermione," Harry said, his voice pained. He was familiar with the feeling of rejection. He'd felt rejection time and time again with the Dursleys. But to be rejected by people who used to love him… that was something he had never experienced before. He could only imagine what Hermione was feeling right now. He tried to put himself into her shoes; tried to imagine what it would be like if she rejected him and his heart ached uncontrollably.
"I don't regret doing what I did," she declared, her voice soft but firm. "I would do it again. I only regret how things turned out."
Hermione moved her head back to look at him. Harry gently brought his hand to her cheek to wipe her tears away.
"Thank you, Harry," she said. "I needed that."
They laid in bed, their bodies next to each other and their limbs entangled, but they didn't sleep yet. They talked about everything and anything. They reminisced about their days at Hogwarts, about funny memories with Ron, and Ginny, and the twins who could no longer be called that. They talked about their hopes for the future; for what they wanted to be once they didn't have to deal with the aftermath of the war anymore.
Hermione said she wanted to go back to school. Harry said he would go back with her.
When the clock struck twelve, he was the first one to wish her a happy birthday.
They fell asleep together, and that moment, despite everything else, felt exactly right.
It was New Year's Eve when things changed.
Well, things didn't really change. It was more like they shifted; they transformed.
They hosted friends and family to remember all that had happened the past year and welcome the new one. The Weasleys were there; so were Headmistress McGonagall, Neville, Hagrid, other members of Dumbledore's Army and the Order, Teddy, Andromeda…
It was a gathering meant for healing. A lot of tears were shed. A lot of smiles and hugs were exchanged. They remembered all who died during the War and pledged to do better and be better so that no atrocity like that would ever happen again.
They looked forward to what was to come while promising to never forget the past and treasure the present.
It was late into the night, or really early in the morning, after most people had gone home and the guests staying over had retreated to the guestrooms.
They were in bed again, under the covers. It was in Harry's room this time, though it's starting to feel like Hermione's room as well with all of the books piled on the table next to her side of the bed. The television was on, its volume low, as Harry watched the news. Hermione was next to him, reading one of the course textbooks in preparation for when they go back to Hogwarts later that year. Headmistress McGonagall delivered the news earlier that night that all three of them were welcomed back for an eighth year at Hogwarts. All three of them accepted, and Hermione cried happy tears.
She turned the page on the advanced charms textbook, half listening to the news anchor from the other side of the world deliver the first headlines of the new year. She glanced at the television momentarily when a dark panel of the screen flashed and caught a reflection of her and Harry in bed.
And the image struck her, for it showed her what had always been there and what it had transformed into. She saw two friends—two best friends—enjoying each other's company, so completely themselves with no pretenses and nothing to hide. They were comfortable, and safe, and secure in each other's presence, even in silence while doing the most mundane things.
But she also saw how her body leaned against his, how one of his arms draped over her shoulders as they sat together in bed. She felt the warmth emitting from his body and felt the steady beating of his heart. Her skin tingled when he absentmindedly stroked her arm up and down.
This was intimate.
Yet it was also familiar. Normal.
It was strange how un-strange it was.
It was like how it should have always been.
Hermione lowered the book to her lap and raised her head to look at Harry. He was looking straight ahead at the television, a content look on his face.
He was comfortable.
It was tranquil.
She smiled, for she understood what their relationship, what their friendship, had transformed into.
She gently raised her head and kissed his cheek.
He turned to look at her then, the light from the television dancing on his face. There was a small smile on his lips and some confusion in his eyes.
But there was no aversion.
"What was that for?" he asked softly.
Her smile grew and she shrugged. "I just wanted to do it," she answered.
"Oh," he replied. "Okay, then." His lips quirked and he bent down to place a soft kiss on her temple.
Then he was back to watching television again with her in his arms.
Hermione felt her heart thump as she picked up her book.
She was aware of this transformation now. She knew.
And while Harry wasn't quite on the same page as her just yet… well, she had so many nights to bring him up to speed.
Together, they forged on to tomorrow.
Fin.
Micca's notes: A Secret Santa gift for tweetysrcclt9 for the HMS Harmony Secret Santa gift exchange 2021. Stay safe and healthy in the new year! xo Micca