Hi everyone!

Another update! Some angsty nightmares ahead - but don't worry, there's a lot of smut to make up for it ;)

I'm still not a native speaker (as you will know by now - I do make mistakes!), so I appreciate it if you have any tips for me to improve on my English.

I wanted to take this opportunity to greet everyone who is new to my readership (Hi there! Thank you so much for giving this story a chance, you are awesome!), and thank everyone who has been staying with this story from earlier on. I appreciate each and everyone of you! Life has been quite busy lately, which is good. I hope to be able to keep you posted regularly. I'll try my hardest!

Stay safe and take care!

Love,

Flora

Chapter 28: How Harry couldn't sleep and how Hermione got a concussion.

She had been fast asleep when it began.

Harry wasn't a quiet sleeper - he would switch sides and change positions in his sleep regularly. He dreamt a lot, and spoke in his sleep about once a week, but most of the time it would be murmuring about owls or Quidditch or work or, once with a flushed face, about her. So, when it began, Hermione slept through it at first. The winching, the clenching of his jaws, the stiffening of his limbs around his blanket - that was normal. And the talking was too, eventhough he rarely said "no" in a hushed tone like that.

But his dream got more vivid, and so did his thrashing.

A sharp kick to her calves woke her up. She awoke cursing and startled. What happened?

Oh, of course. Sleeping in one bed with Harry James Potter happened.

Hermione was mildly annoyed at first, because she had slept so deeply and thought Harry was just his "happy sleeping puppy"-self, but when she got up to take a better look at Harry, every negative emotion she felt towards him, subsided immediately.

Harry's face was distorted: that's the only way she could describe it. It was a grimace, like he was being tortured, and his breaths were thick and laboured. She saw pearls or sweat beading on his forehead, drenching his sideburns, the wrinkles on his face burrowed in a deep, snaring frown. He was hurt, she saw that. And the quivering "no's" from his lips, almost pleading, sent chills down her spine.

'Harry?'

She fought the sleep out of her eyes as she traced the deep creases of his face, trying to smooth the skin under the palm of her hand.

'Harry, you're dreaming. Wake up.'

Harry shook his head, his breaths now locked in his throat.

'No, no please, don't be dead, don't be dead,' he rasped, arms locked in a firm embrace of his sheets.

'You're asleep,' Hermione tried, massaging his cheeks with her hands. 'Wake up, Harry. It's not real.'

'Please - if you're dead, it's all my fault...'

His words tore through her and she winced. Poor Harry. She knew he was burdened by all the losses of the war: Fred, Tonks, Remus. Sirius was the worst of all, probably. He still couldn't talk about what happened to his late godfather without averting his gaze. She knew he felt responsible for what happened to them: it didn't matter how many times she told him that it wasn't his wrongdoing. It was Voldemort. Always Voldemort.

'It's not your fault,' she whispered. 'Wake up. Do you hear me, Harry? It's me. I'm here.'

Usually, her voice helped. Harry had suffered from nightmares twice with her now. Both time he had woken up almost immediately. This time, it was different.

'I'll do anything - just come back to me. Please don't be dead. I'll make it right, I promise, I promise... Please, no. No! No!'

His voice got caught in his throat and he started heaving, as his body contracted into a little ball. He kept repeating "no", over and over, and Hermione didn't know what to do. She had never seen him like this: he was panicking, and she stood idly by, shocked and petrified, with a bleeding heart.

'Wake up, Harry!' she shouted. 'It's a dream - it's just a stupid dream!'

'N-n-no, please-, Her-..., Herm-...'

His voice was barely audible between hard gasps for air, but instinctively, she knew Harry wasn't just dreaming about anyone.

She began to shake him, hard, to do anything to wake him up, but it just resulted in an angry scream and Harry pushed her off of him in his sleep, holding onto the blanket like it was his lifeline.

'Get off, you filthy bastard!'

Harry was strong - he felt threatened, and his body acted on it. Hermione yelled as she was thrown to the floor, hitting her head on one of the bedposts. She saw stars for a few seconds, as Harry's pleading intensified. "No", "no", "no": over and over again, until she did hear him use her name.

'Hermione, no, please, please, Hermione, Hermione-...'

The sound of Harry's voice pleading for her, got her to her senses. She bit through the headache that was currently booming through her skull, searched for her wand, and turned on the lights.

Harry looked so incredibly small and hurt, curled up in the foetal position, rocking back and forth in self-soothing, the blanket placed against his face. The light didn't wake him up: the nightmare was too strong.

So, she regretted doing it, but she knew that she couldn't bear to see him suffer for a moment longer.

'Aguamenti!'

A thick stream of icy water shot out of the end of her wand and hit Harry right in the chest. He spluttered and screamed, but he opened his eyes.

His emerald eyes, pupils dilated with terror and shock, fixated on Hermione's panting figure. She stood at the right side of the bed, wand pointed towards his chest, hair upright and frazzled, and she knew she looked like she was in pain. She saw his pupils shrink, as reality hit him and he exhaled a large breath.

'Hermione! Oh Merlin - Hermione, what happened, why am I wet?! It was... it wasn't real, was it - oh Hermione, I'm so sorr-..'

She cut off his apology by jumping back in the bed, crawling against his wet chest. She was shaking all over and she was crying.

'Y-you okay?' she managed to sniff, as Harry opened her arms to him as if he would die without her close to him. He pushed his nose in the hair on top of her head, fixated her against his chest with an iron grip. He inhaled her scent, holding her close against him, clamping his arms around her. She felt him nod.

'You're here - you're warm against my skin, you're here...'

She couldn't stop the tears that were steadily streaming down her face, still shocked by the pain and relieved for his terror to be over. Harry was entranced by her warmth, by the feeling of her body against his, and he made a sussing sound as he slowly rocked the both of them.

It took him some time to calm down. Hermione fixated on his strong arms, the pain in her head hitting her with full force as the adrenaline wore off and she leaned against him, totally exhausted. She heard the beating of his heart go to a steady rhythm again, as he kept kissing the top of her head, her nose buried in Harry's chest.

'You're here,' he whispered one last time. 'You're okay.'

He combed his hands through her hair, and pulled his fingers back sharply as Hermione let out a pained hiss.

'What is that?'

'It-it's nothing,' she stammered, drying her eyes with her arms. She didn't want to tell Harry what he'd done - he would feel incredibly guilty.

'It's wet! Let me take a look.'

'No, Harry, really-...'

She felt his grip on her arm tighten and looked back at him. Harry had a serious, intense look on his face.

'You're hurt. Let me see.'

'It was an accident,' she replied, with a thin voice, as Harry took his wand from the nightstand and cast "Lumos" to give him some extra light. Hermione flinched as Harry gently brushed his fingers against her head again. She knew she was bleeding, and a part of her expected Harry to run to the toilet again, but he didn't.

'What happened?'

The tone in his voice was supposed to be neutral, but he didn't manage to pull it off successfully. She grasped his wrists and tried to soothe the skin with her thumbs.

'You... You had a nightmare...'

'I know. What happened? Did I do this to you?'

He pulled his hands back from her touch.

'You didn't mean to.'

Harry looked at her directly, sighed with a harrowing expression on his face and summoned his satchel.

'You're bleeding a bit. I have some salve for that, don't worry.'

He first cast a few "Vulnera Senentur"-spells, before carefully rubbing salve on her head. She could feel the pain subside immediately, and only a hard throbbing of her head remained.

'You might have a concussion,' Harry whispered, with an emotionless expression on his face. 'Drink this potion, it will dull your headache a bit.'

He supported her as she drank from the transparent vial, watching her closely as the expression on her face changed from held back pain to relief.

'It will be sensitive for at least the next day,' Harry said, with the soft soothing voice she knew he could have when he worried about her. 'But all in all, it should be fine.'

He kissed her softly on the cheek, then got up from the bed, mumbled something about "I'm getting out of these wet clothes" and went to the bathroom, without looking at her again. Although she didn't hurt any more, she felt awful.

Harry stayed in the bathroom for at least 15 minutes, and when he got back, she knew he hoped she would be asleep. He gulped when he saw she wasn't, but got back in the bed nonetheless. She saw his clothes were dry now, but Harry's face was wet – not from crying, but from dunking his head under a running tab. He got in the bed at his side, facing the wall, without paying any attention to her. Harry wasn't good at talking about his feelings, but she would push him regardless. It was important they communicated about this.

'Do you have nightmares about me more often?' she heard herself ask.

Harry didn't respond right away, but after a few minutes he turned around to face her.

'I'm sorry,' he said, voice small, dodging her original question. 'I didn't mean to hurt you – I thought it was a Death Eater on top of me. I didn't realize it was you trying to shake me awake.'

'I shouldn't have done it like that,' Hermione said. 'I just panicked. You are rarely in so deep.'

Harry grinned darkly.

'Oh no, it happens more often. This was just the first time you noticed it. The last few times were nothing in compared to how bad it can be. And even this – I mean, this was bad, but not by far the worst I've had.'

'What should I do to make you snap out of it?'

'Using Aguamenti works, apparently,' Harry said, choosing to still not touch Hermione. 'I think that was a good call. Normally, I don't snap out of it. I come to my senses after my body goes into overdrive from over-exhaustion.'

She nodded. That is what would get her to pull out of her nightmares too – getting so fatigued by all the overwhelming sensations, that she would wake up in deep distress. It was awful.

'You were saying my name,' she said after a while. 'You said "no" a lot and you pleaded me… To…'

'Not be dead,' he completed her sentence.

He looked at her with a pained smile.

'I'm glad you listened.'

She hesitated for a moment, looking at Harry's sad eyes as he averted his gaze again. He needed her to open up – she knew there were times when Harry wouldn't be able to. So she closed the space between them and softly pressed her lips against his. She felt his breathe on her skin as he returned the motion to her, then broke this kiss off to press his forehead against hers. He sighed deeply, heartfelt, and he used his hand to stroke her sides.

'Thank you,' he said, voice low.

'Do you have bad dreams about me often?' she asked again. Their foreheads were still pressed together, their breathing comfortable and steady against each other's faces, Harry's fingers ghosting over her skin, causing goosebumps.

He didn't answer her, he just looked at her, and then he made their lips meet again. It was soft, it was loving, but she felt Harry's heartbeat quicken a bit as their lips brushed together. His pulse was drumming against the palms of her hands that were placed against his chest and she found it absolutely mesmerizing.

He kissed her again. And then once more. When he noticed she didn't cut him off for more questioning, he deepened the kiss eagerly, slowly stroking his tongue against hers. She hummed against his mouth in anticipation, and Harry pushed her against him, taking full control of her mouth with his tongue, hands roaming over her body, erection straining against her thigh. A lustful Harry could act like a man possessed, she thought, but she loved every second of his quick change in character. She gasped as Harry let go of her lips and attacked her neck, nibbling at her soft flesh.

'I want you,' he panted. 'Hermione, I want you so badly. May I have you?'

The questioned endeared her deeply.

'Harry, you may always have me,' she answered, intoxicated by Harry's lips, and she felt his member twitch through the fabric of his underwear against her bare leg. She moaned softly at the sensation, he groaned approvingly against her throat, allowing his hands to roam under her tanktop, kneading her breasts in the palm of his hands.

He lifted her top over her head, exposing her bare chest to him. She helped him out of his T-shirt, they both clumsily got rid of their underwear, nervous but so excited. He placed the palm of his hands against the small of her back, as he sat upright at the side of the bed.

'I want you in my lap,' he purred, with a low voice. 'I want to be as close to you as I possibly can tonight.'

She nodded, enjoying the sight of her boyfriend, eyes glazed over with lust and love, spectacles somewhat crooked on his face, hair messy and still a bit damp, lips lightly puffy from the rigorous snogging. God he was so handsome like this, and he was all hers.

He summoned the lubricant from her nightstand and rubbed some wetness over her core. She was perched up on her knees, in an awkwardly vulnerable position, but when Harry opened her folds carefully with those magical hands of his, she didn't care about awkwardness or being exposed. She loved every second. He rubbed her slowly, tenderly, until she was hot and withering against his fingers, and then he pushed inside of her to prepare her for him. One finger, then two fingers, slowly pumped in and out of her core, curling slightly against that special spot inside of her, causing her to throw back her hair and puff out her chest. A slight jolt of pain rushed through her head as she crooked her neck, but she didn't care, she wanted Harry to see how ready she was for him. She moved up and down, to drive his fingers deeper into her body, touched her breasts and nipples to enhance the sensation even further and when she tilted her head back to look Harry in the eye again, he saw that she was absolutely enchanted by her reaction.

'Hermione,' was all he managed to utter, as he pulled himself closer to her, replacing her hands with his own, feeling the stiffness of her nubs as he rolled them between his fingers. She felt jolts of pleasure rock through her, as she kept pushing up and down on his fingers, Harry's slight stubble caressing the side of her face. The warmth of his body against her was very welcome, and she leaned into him as she continued her intoxicating movements.

'You're ready for me?' he asked, knowing the answer, as she nodded and produced a throaty "hmm". Harry removed his fingers from inside of her, causing an immediate ache and want to be filled by him, but he eased the loss by rubbing his heavily lubricated fingers over her clitoris. She shivered and hissed and almost yelled as she felt his fingers circling her.

'Do you want to come right now?'

Yes, she thought, but she shook her head.

'I want you inside of me, I'm open now.'

Harry nodded quickly, guiding her into his lap. She took hold of his member and pressed it against her core, as Harry's arms settled around her waist.

She looked at him for a moment. Harry's eyes were completely clouded now – dark and lustful and admiring and wanting, and he was even shivering a bit with anticipation. She had never seen him as eager as this, but then again, she had never felt comfortable enough to put on a show like that for him. Add that to your mental notes, Hermione, she thought. Harry loves it when you give him something to look at!

She kissed him, forcefully but lovingly, sweeping her tongue against his dominantly, as she pushed the member firmly against her entrance. Kissing and guiding herself on top of Harry was a bit of a challenge, and although she really loved all the combined sensations Harry was giving her, she knew she needed to focus on getting him inside first. So she broke off the kiss, focussing on how her folds slowly allowed Harry entry inside of her tight heat. She heard his deep, familiar growl as she sunk deeper and deeper onto his member, filling her with his flesh. It still stung a bit, the heat was still a bit too much to be comfortable on the first thrust, but she got down all the way without pausing. At the end she felt Harry completely inside of her, her knees on either side of him, and she pressed her forehead against his once more. She was seated a bit higher than him, and he looked up to her with wonderful eyes, licking his lips.

'You feel so good,' he said, allowing his hands to roam down her back, squeeze her buttocks. She chuckled against him, as the burning subsided, leaving room for nothing but him. Oh, she loved having Harry inside of her, not because it was more intense than a regular orgasm, but because she couldn't get enough of feeling so united with him.

'You too,' she countered. He kissed her, and she allowed him, putting her hands around his neck, allowing his tongue inside of her.

She began to move up a bit, and then sank herself down again. She had never been the one to decide the rhythm, but she liked it immediately. Up, down. Up, down. Harry allowed her to lead, resting one hand on her jaw line for closeness, the other on her hip. Up, down. Up, down. Their lips met in a heated kiss as Hermione began to roll her body against Harry – she had experienced him using the same motions on her, so she guessed it was equally nice the other way around. She was right. The rolling motion of her hips caused her to squeeze tightly around him, guiding him in and out of her, and Harry moaned against her mouth.

Up, down, up, down. Harry groaned against her, the sensation being so slow it was torturous, but Hermione didn't care. She took the hand that caressed her face and placed it against folds, urging him to please her in every way he could, and he did, rubbing expertly in the circles he knew she loved so much. It didn't take long for her to come apart in his embrace, rolling against his hips, causing an amazingly tight grip on Harry's member. She yelled and yelped as she pulsated around him, thrashing away and against his touches, because it was all too much and not enough. When she came down from her climax, she was heaving and spent, and she could feel Harry's fully stiff member still embedded deeply inside of her.

'That was-… Incredible,' Harry breathed against her. 'You okay?'

She nodded with closed eyes.

'Yes – yes, I think I am.'

'Good,' Harry said darkly. 'Because now it's my turn.'

He swooped her in his arms and placed her with her back on the bed. She could faintly make out a mischievous (or maybe just plain horny) look in his eyes, before she saw the bedding being thrown off. Harry crawled on top of her, licked and sucked on her collarbone and guided himself inside immediately. They both moaned at the sensation of the sudden penetration.

'You're not hurting?'

'Nah-uh,' Hermione responded. Harry groaned another "good", as he latched his lips on her bone, marking her with his mouth, and moved forward in a rhythm that he never had.

Up until that point in their relationship, Harry had been nothing but extremely careful. She liked that about him, but she couldn't deny that the Harry that was in bed with her right now, was absolutely raging hot. He was thrusting inside of her, being careful as to not bottom out and not to hit her cervix, but aside from that, all bets were off. He plunged inside of her, filling her again and again and again, as his teeth left a mark on her skin that would be there for days. And visible through my blouse, she thought.

It took him a few tries, but finally he had found that spot inside of Hermione that made her toes curl, and she had never experienced anything in her life that felt as good as Harry thrusting rapidly in just the right places. He claimed her, he owned her, he marked her: he made no question about who was really in charge at that moment, and Hermione loved surrendering to him. She made sounds that she had never made in her life – she realized she could be embarrassed, or ashamed, but there was no other feeling than Harry making the best love to her that she ever experienced.

Satisfied with the mark he left on her, he let go of her skin, looking her straight in the eye as he kept thrusting into her. Her mouth was fixed in a permanent "O", her hands buried inside Harry's locks, as he kept moving into her. It was amazing, he was amazing, her whole body was on fire and each thrust brought her closer to heaven. Those green, godly eyes, pierced right into her soul, and at that moment she would have given him anything he would have asked for.

'You're mine,' he said firmly, eyes fixated on hers. 'You're mine. You're mine.'

He repeated that a few times, marking every word with his movements.

'You're mine – say it. Say that you're mine, Hermione.'

'I'm yours,' she managed to say, as Harry hit that spot so good she thought she would burst. 'I'm yours, I'm so yours.'

That sent him over the edge. He moved inside of her thrice more, and she felt his member pulsate inside of her, milking himself within her tight walls. He then used his fingers to rub her, fiercely, and Hermione toppled over the edge again. She felt Harry move inside of her, prolonging his own climax during her orgasm, and then it was over.

Boneless. Utterly boneless. She felt nothing but satisfaction wash over her as Harry moved out of her, muttered some cleaning spell and pulled her into a tight spoon. They didn't speak for the first five minutes, thoroughly drained, the only communication being Harry placing small, incoherent, supposed to be soothing kisses on the back of her naked shoulder.

'That was amazing,' she finally croaked, enjoying how spent she felt and Harry laughed – the voice of his happiness feeling the room and marking a dark contrast with not thirty minutes earlier.

'That was the best sex we ever had, my God Hermione,' Harry agreed. 'We didn't interrupt it once with a silly anecdote. It was just pure hotness. I didn't know we were capable of that.'

'Apparently we are,' Hermione snickered. 'Maybe it's because I haven't looked at my notes for a few days, that could be it.'

They both chuckled, and Harry placed his head contently on her shoulder, drifting his hands across her body. He ended up stroking a line between her breasts to her stomach in a repeating fashion, tracing the scar that Dolohov's mark left there in their fifth year. She let him for a few minutes, but then shifted her head, and she saw Harry had closed his eyes.

'This-… I dreamed about this,' he explained. Hermione had wondered if he would come back to the subject, deciding that he deserved the space if he needed to, but she was thankful he determined to come back to it anyway.

'Dolohov's curse? The purple one?'

He nodded and stopped the stroking, as Hermione turned towards him, propping herself up on one elbow. His eyes were fixated on the mark and he pursed his lips a bit.

'Do you remember how… Tonks and Remus looked, the day after the battle of Hogwarts?'

Hermione nodded. She didn't need to describe it to Harry – when she first saw them dead, they had looked peaceful, as if they were just sleeping, but the day after, their skin had turned a horrific, blackish purple at a number of places on their body. Places where a curse hit – an evil curse.

'It was the same curse that hit you. We call it Purple Evil within our forces. It's a curse that causes heavy internal bleeding. One curse can be enough to kill you – Tonks and Remus both suffered at least three hits. Nothing could have saved them.'

He paused for a moment, eyeing the darkened skin between her breasts.

'The only reason you weren't hurt worse is because… You had silenced him. He didn't yell the spell – if he would have, you possibly wouldn't be here right now. I've done research for the curse, a few years back, when a deranged pureblood fanatic broke into Muggle homes to kill them with this curse. It's Untraceable as of now – you know that Imperio, Crucio and the Killing Curse are marked now so we know when they are used and by whom. We want Purple Evil to be an Unforgivable as well. It can damage permanently and it will kill if used maliciously. So, we needed research done, and I volunteered to find out the spell that goes with the curse.'

'And?' Hermione asked.

'We didn't find out,' Harry sighed, tracing the line again with his index finger. 'Believe me – I tried. But only a few people know about it, ex-Death Eaters, and whenever we ask them about it under Veritaserum, they-… Well… Let's just say, Voldemort built a very solid and sick security system to keep the name of the curse a secret. You can't say its name unless you intend to harm someone, that's for sure.'

A frown was back on Harry's face, and he stopped stroking the sensitive skin. He looked at her, directly, and then showed a faint smile.

'Ever since then the nightmares about the Ministry have been plaguing me. It was always traumatic, of course, to see you take a hit because I didn't-… Well, let's not get into that right now. I was young, inexperienced, highly emotional, whatever excuse you can think of. But ever since then, my nightmares have the sadistic tendency to show what could have happened if you hadn't silenced him. And it's… It's just…'

She saw the pained expression on his face and made a hushing sound. Harry opened his arms and pulled her against him once more. They were silent for a while, still enjoying the soreness of the love-making lingering in their limbs, Hermione stroking Harry's hair, as he enjoyed her warmth.

'I'm just really, really thankful you did silence him that day, Hermione. That's all. And I'm sorry for hurting you.'

They talked for a few more minutes, and Hermione thanked him for being so open to her. Then they fell asleep again – a lovely, dreamless sleep.