Snape Appreciation, Sleep Draught: Write about a sleepless night

Gobstones, purple (gratitude): freckle, "You don't get it, okay?", "What's the problem?"

Count Your Buttons: "You don't get it, okay?"

Lyric Alley: But I won't let them break me down to dust.

Sophie's Shelf: PercyHermione

Auction: moist

Word Count: 497


He's awake again. Wide, sleepless eyes stare at the ceiling.

Percy can't remember the last time he's actually slept through the night since the war. Whenever his eyes close, he's taken back to that night. He still sees, still hears, and he is suffocating.

With a yawn, Hermione sits up beside him, the blanket sliding down her body and exposing her bare collarbone. "What's the problem?" she asks gently, tracing her fingers along his arm and playing a silent game of connect the freckles. "Nightmares again?"

He swallows dryly. She has been there for him for the past few months. Whenever his demons had come out to play, she had been so quick to hold him close and tell him everything will be okay. He doesn't always believe her, but he tries. All he knows is that he would be completely lost without her.

"Nightmares would imply I've actually fallen asleep," he says, a bitter laugh escaping his lips.

"It's okay. You're going to make it."

"You don't get it, okay?" He knows he's being too hard on her, but he can't help it. The words spill from his mouth, and he can't seem to stop them. "It's not just that I watched my brother die. It's my fault he's dead!"

He shouldn't be surprised that he's crying, and yet he's taken aback to discover the area around his eyes is moist. Percy wipes frantically his eyes, but it doesn't help. The tears begin to fall freely, and sob after sob grips his body, causing him to tremble and shake.

Hermione shouldn't stay with him. She should see him like this and decide it isn't worth it, that he is too broken of a man. He doesn't deserve her love, and he isn't completely sure why she stays at all.

But she wraps her slender arms around him, holding him close. For several moments, she doesn't speak; she lets him continue with his tears, and she does not judge him for feeling.

"You didn't kill your brother," she says. "Fred wouldn't want this for you."

She's right. Of course she's right. He's letting his demons the the best of him again, and he hates it. He knows he ought to be stronger, that he should look on the bright side and accept that there is hope for him.

But it's so bloody hard.

"Let go," she whispers before pressing a chaste kiss to his lips.

He knows he should. Some days, he can, but other days, like right now, it's so tempting to just let his demons take him. He's breaking, and he doesn't know if he can be fixed.

But there's a hope on her lips, and he can taste each time Hermione kisses him. She whispers that he is stronger than this, and he can make it though.

Maybe it isn't a perfect life, and he is still drowning. But Hermione is by his side, and he is more grateful than he can ever say.