Dreams of You


Saturday meant there were no classes McGonagall had to be at, no meetings to attend, just a pile of marking and paper work. Saturday meant that she didn't have to untangle herself from the young woman who was curled against her stomach. She didn't mind that Hermione was still asleep, seemingly relaxed except for the way her hands had cemented Minerva's against her sleeping chest where she could feel a heart flitting between calm and fitful. It made her wonder whether the potion for dreamless sleep was really helping or if it was just suppressing some deep issue, but she found it difficult to ponder the question with Hermione's fragrant hair tickling her nose, the curve of her back pressed hard against the headmistress. She really ought to leave the girl to attend breakfast or to begin grading papers, but she couldn't risk waking the girl who deserved a proper rest after the previous night's fright.

A part of Minerva knew that wasn't the only reason she had stayed like this for the past two hours. It was the part that she refused to acknowledge fully that wanted to remain like this just to be close to Hermione. It was the part of her that knew why for the first hour she had kept her eyes closed, focusing instead on the smells that drifted from the other witch. Lavender shampoo, soap from her own bathroom, blood, even traces of morning breath, and beneath all of that the purest scent of her skin. She felt the minute muscle twitches and the coarse thickness of hair between her fingers and heard every breath in and out and the confused heartbeat. That part of her knew why her animagus senses were so trained on Hermione.

But she denied that part even existed, insisted to herself that she only wanted to protect Hermione, to make sure that when the girl woke she wouldn't have to be alone.

It was almost midday when Hermione's eyes opened and she felt the pressure of arms holding her not tightly, but tight enough to know she was secure. For a moment she thought she must be back at Grimmauld Place with Ron behind her, but everything was wrong about that. For one, he never held her when she woke, the room was entirely different, and her heart told her she didn't love him anymore, she loved…

"Min?" Hermione's voice was hoarse and it wasn't until the hands pulled closer before they released her that the memory of last night crashed back into her.

The hands were sliding from her waist, the breath on her ear disappearing, the body removing itself and leaving a cold emptiness.

McGonagall was pulling herself up into sitting position, not sure whether waiting for Hermione to wake up was the right thing to do after all.

"I didn't want to wake you," Minerva said, putting her feet on the ground, facing away from the girl who was now on her knees, looking at the back of her head where black and grey hair hung down past her shoulders.

Hermione's throat was raw and it hurt to speak, but she tried because she was afraid and she needed to be reassured. "Min, last night…"

"Turning her head to the side, McGonagall replied. "You didn't take your potion and you had a bad nightmare. Do you remember that?"

Hermione shook her head, frowned, then tried to explain. "I don't remember the nightmare. I just remember blood."

"Your arm was bleeding very heavily, but it stopped when you woke up."

"Why?" Her voice cracked and the sound almost broke Minerva's heart, but she held it together.

"I don't know, Hermione. I'm going to send some letters. I'll find out."

Hermione's instinct was to apologise profusely for bleeding on the other woman, for ruining her gown, for taking up so much space, but Luna had been right. Sorry wasn't always the right word.

"Thank you."

"I'll have breakfast, or rather, lunch, sent up."

Hermione nodded with her eyes cast down, unaware that McGonagall, too, was avoiding her eye.


Like she promised, Hermione told Ginny and Luna the real reason why she had woken up so late. She didn't mention how bad the bleeding was or that in the morning she woke with Minerva holding her, deciding that some things were too much. They reacted with predictable concern over the nightmares and the cuts and when she told them about the seven letters McGonagall had sent out to specialists they were stunned into silence. Perhaps they hadn't realized how serious it was. For a moment Hermione worried that it would be too much for them, that it was better for her to keep it to herself from now on, but she needn't have worried. Ginny told her that Harry ate a piece of chocolate and envisioned casting a patronus before he fell asleep to fend off his nightmares and Luna, with a furrowed brow that looked out of place on her, told her about a doctor who she had met at St Mungo's. Of course, Hermione didn't want to go to the hospital for something that could be controlled with a simple potion, but she accepted Luna's invitation to look into it. They went back to studying but Hermione could feel Ginny's worried eyes until she excused herself. She didn't want her friends to worry about her, but she couldn't block them out either. Not completely. She wondered if the headmistress was back in her room before deciding not to risk it, finding a quiet and unused classroom where she could think.


Once again, Hermione was terrified of falling asleep. Even though she was taking an extra dose of the Dreamless Sleep potion, she knew there was still something lurking in the dark, waiting for her to fall victim to exhaustion. She could feel it every night when McGonagall had retired to her room. It felt like cruel laughter or a hand like a rake. It was waiting for her. With the help of some Wideeye Potion she managed not to sleep at all for three nights before Minerva caught on and forced her to take the potion. After that she redoubled how much of the potion she took. The first time she slept through most of her classes and twice in a day she woke with a scream during class. Neither of her professors was impressed.

It did help when Minerva stayed with her until she fell asleep, whatever it was kept its distance. But then she kept bleeding, waking in the morning still tired to find the ugly red scar had opened in the night to bleed and heal again when she woke. Ginny suggested meditating and Luna offered a kind of dreamcatcher, but nothing helped. Even the professionals who McGonagall had written to had very little insight.

The only reprieve came when one night Hermione was listening to the sounds of Minerva moving around her private quarters. She could make out the sounds of a bath being filled, footsteps, the window closing, and could see when the lights went off from under the door. It was early for her as usually she put of sleeping, but she knew Minerva would be asleep by ten. The potion was already poured and waiting on the desk, but she didn't want to take it. The clock that hung between portraits showed that it was almost one in the morning and if she didn't drink it now she might sleep through the day. Thinking about sleep was like walking through a ghost, so she tried not to think about it. Instead, she changed into her pajamas and tried to focus on hearing the sound of her friend sleeping in the other room. Usually she could only imagine it the breathing, but if she was lucky there was the occasional snore to let her know she was still there.

Thinking about Minerva relaxed her, thinking about waking up with her beside her made her feel safe and she wished she could experience it again. Hermione stood over the potion, with her wand ready to transfigure her bed. It was getting nearer as if sensing that sleep was near. Her breath came out in a shudder. As her finger wrapped around the cold glass. She closed her eyes and drank it quickly, putting the cup back quietly. She gritted her teeth and tried to tether her mind to Minerva, tried to imagine how she looked when asleep. Was she on her back or side? Did she pull the blankets all the way over her shoulders? Hermione couldn't remember, but when she turned back to the sofa her eyes went to the door that separated them. She had a minute before the drowsiness overcame her, but it was enough time to peek. Just peek. And maybe she would be able to drift off in peace.

It wasn't a firm plan, her brain already succumbing to the potion, but she did get to the door and managed to ease it open. She couldn't see properly, so she pushed it a little further, instinctually taking a step into the room. In a blink the door was closed behind her and Minerva was lying on one side of the bed, facing away from the moonlit window with one socked foot sticking out from the covers. Hermione leaned against the door with a sigh. It was slinking away even as her eyes drooped and her body began to slump. The bed looked so soft. So warm. So appealing. So safe. Her feet carried her to the edge of it and slowly she sunk down into the mattress. She looked over at McGonagall who had turned to lie on her back and her serene face brought on a flood of warmth.


Just for a minute, she thought, but by the time her head touched the pillow she was asleep.

Minerva didn't say anything the next morning about waking to Hermione sleeping soundly in her bed. She didn't mention that part way through the night she had gotten up for a glass of water and seen her, but only covered the girl with the blankets to keep her warm, or how when she went back to bed her fingers curled through Hermione's hair. Hermione didn't mention that for the first time since the last bad night she hadn't woken up in her own blood.

Neither of them mentioned a thing.

That could have been the end of it, but it wasn't. Each night Hermione was pulled towards McGonagall's bed and each night she went. Most of the time Minerva would already be asleep, but quickly the teacher caught on and waited. The first time Hermione walked in and was caught by the stunning green eyes she looked at her feet and apologized, saying that one of the portraits was snoring too loudly. Instead of speaking, the other witch drew back the blankets and when Hermione was settled, stroked the long brown curls until they were both asleep. After that Hermione didn't bother making excuses. She knew she was welcome by the way Minerva would tell her not to stay up to late reading or even leading Hermione into the room so she wouldn't sleep through an early morning exam.

It was one of the few things that Hermione didn't tell her friends. This secret between her and Minerva which, even alone went unspoken. Both witches afraid to bring it up in case the other changed her mind.


A/N: This chapter is complete fluff. I might upload another chapter this week with more substance.