Title: Not Enough to Say
Pairings: Cedric/Hermione
Summary: There simply wasn't enough that he could say.
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I can only dream it's mine but we all know it belongs to JK Rowling.
Warning: I'm beginning to think why I even ever put these up but 15minuteficlets

There's just not enough that he could do to sooth her fears. Day in and day out, Cedric sat by her side at St. Mungo's hoping and wishing, waiting for the moment when her eyes would open and he could see her look up at him with her dark brown eyes. Night after night, he gets little to no sleep as she tosses and turns from the nightmares that keep her confine to that damn bed. Some nights he would hold her hands as she sleeps peacefully, feeling they barely warm but grateful that they weren't cold or worse... frigid. Other nights, he would clutch them to his heart and watch with tears as she wrestled with her inner demons and the after-effects of war.

Never since the last battle had he left her for one minute, fighting angrily with the nurses and Medi-Witches for his place by her side. Even as he won, there was no justice for what they had done to her. Not from the nurses for the Sleeping Potion they constantly injected into her; nor was there any from the Death Eaters who did this to her, even if they had died for their crimes. Not even from that insipid Minister of Magic, who faked to the world that the woman behind their victory was doing fine and was on 'vacation'.

He had spat on the Daily Prophet that day. So angry was he that it took both Harry and Ron to give him the Calming Potion. Cedric had been so sorry after the potion wore off and felt guilty as both men said that it wasn't his fault.

Feeling that she had stopped shifting, Cedric brushed her damp curls away from her face as he brought a cool cloth to her face. Gently washing away her current nightmares, he wanted to speak soothing words to her but found himself unable to. It had been three months, two weeks, and four days of words that had robbed him of his speaking abilities today. All that he wanted to say had already been said... there simply weren't enough words to tell her the things he wanted to tell her. There simply wasn't enough that he could say to her any more other than repeat his past words. He didn't want to tell her about his day because it was always the same... that was until he has held her hands again.

Holding her hand gently, Cedric marveled at how much smaller they were compared to his, even if it was just slightly. Turning it over palm up, he traced the lines that naturally covered her hands before lightly going over her scars. While they were clean he could tell by the faint ink spots on her fingers that they were a part of her. As he continued to observe her hands, he didn't realize that he was telling her about them as well. How her fingernails were cut short, as he remembered how a few were bitten down to the quick. Or that her palm was a nice pale rosy color. That while her skin wasn't as soft, like most girls, he loved how they were just the right texture for him to hold.

The more he talked, the more he became sleepy. As much as he wanted to stay awake, he knew that it was time for a short nap. Despite the fact that he was struggling to stay awake, he knew that he had to sleep. Clasping her hands right between his own, he finally let himself sleep. If he had just struggled a bit more, Cedric would've seen Hermione's eye flutter open and smiling warmly at him as she took her other hand and wrapped it around his.