Rebuilding Rome ch.3

It doesn't make me nervous

If anything I'm restless

I've been around and I've seen it all

…

You're gone and I've got to stay high

all the time

to keep you off my mind

(Habits, Tove Lo)

Hermione lurched upright, heart pounding, looking frantically around her room. After a few seconds, she shook her head softly, surveying the empty room that was slowly growing light with the dawn. It was just a nightmare. No matter how many times she awoke with a start, no matter how many times she fell asleep to the same scene, it always seemed so real, so painfully plausible, she could never quite convince herself that it had been a dream. Glancing at her watch, Hermione saw that she still had quite some time before her first class, but she reluctantly pushed back her blankets, knowing that she wouldn't be getting anymore sleep now that she was awake.

Grabbing her towel from the hook in her closet, Hermione scooped her bag of toiletries from her open trunk on the floor and padded to the bathroom. Moving quietly to try to avoid waking her roommate, she started the shower and got in, cranking the temperature to as hot as she could possibly stand it. She washed her hair quickly, but even when all traces of suds were long gone from the shower floor, still she stood under the hot water, watching her abdomen and limbs gradually turn pink from the temperature, but absolutely removed from the experience. While it was never her intention to rise so early, she was subconsciously glad she did, because her morning showers were the only time she truly allowed herself to mourn.

It was a habit she had quickly adapted after the war, when she realized that her tears only made it harder for everyone else. No matter how much the war had hurt Hermione, it had hurt others worse, and she accepted that her role was not to be weak, but to try and make it as easy as possible for the people around her whose lives had been torn apart. She began showering in the early mornings, when no one else would be awake to hear her muffled cries over the running water, and no one would question why her cheeks were quite so wet. When it seemed that her nightmares were not fading as more time passed, she simply maintained the habit, even long after the tears had stopped flowing.

Hermione was startled from her thoughts by a loud, insistent knocking on the bathroom door. Taken aback, she pushed aside the shower curtain, looking at her watch on the ledge of the sink. It was still over an hour before breakfast even began, why in the world would Draco be awake? The pounding continued, and Hermione shook her head, figuring if she ignored it, he would get the hint and leave her to shower in peace.

"Granger, I swear, this is your last warning. You have about a minute to be out of the bathroom, or I'm coming in there," Draco threatened from the other side of the door. Hermione huffed, angry at the disruption. A few moments passed, and then she heard something she wasn't expecting. The door to the bathroom flew open, and Draco stomped in, dropping his own bag of toiletries onto the sink counter, and placing his towel next to hers on the rack.

"I warned you, Granger. You aren't the only one that needs to shower, you know," her roommate remarked smartly. Hermione pulled the curtain shut tighter, then replied indignantly:

"Draco! There's still an hour before breakfast, you absolutely do not need the bathroom this instant! You could be polite and wait, you know!"

"Too damn bad," she heard him mutter, and then she shrieked in surprise when she felt him tug at the curtain. "Last warning, Granger. You have until three. One, two.." Rather than test him, Hermione sighed angrily and grabbed her towel, shutting off the water. When she was fully covered, she threw back the curtain, shooting a look of absolute hatred at the blonde wizard smirking against the sink. Rather than respond to her anger, he eyed her dripping form salaciously, causing the witch to blush and stomp from the bathroom.

When she was back in the safety of her own room, she slammed the door shut with a vengeance, then fell back against it, breathless. Her heart was pounding, blood coursing through her veins like fire, her head spinning. She couldn't describe what it was about the interaction that caused her to react so strongly, but something in the wizard's gaze made her feel something that she hadn't felt in longer than she could remember - but certainly not since the war.

Shaking her head to dispel such thoughts, she got dressed for the day and slowly walked down for breakfast.