Disclaimer: Nothing is mine except the plot
1997 – March 14
It had been four nights since the first nightmare. Four nights without hearing from Dumbledore. Four nights filled with utter terror. Each sleep came with a new horrifying pseudo reality. Something was wrong; very wrong. It felt as though her mind was being explored during the night, as if someone were searching for something or simply exposing her worst fears, but it was now obvious that Draco was hiding the truth about the severity of the situation.
It could have been nothing if there had been a trigger. It could have been nothing if they didn't reoccur so consistently. It could have been nothing if the nightmares didn't feel so real, as if she had actually been transported into the horror, filling every sense with fear. This was not nothing, and as much as Hermione wanted to believe she was just being paranoid, she knew better. She knew that a powerful wizard was hunting her, wanting her dead. She knew that this was possible. Every time she woke up screaming, she could see it in Draco's eyes as he came to her side and tried to comfort her; this was bad.
They hadn't heard back from Dumbledore yet and Hermione hated that she had begun to doubt. The situation was urgent and he was ignoring them!
But she knew better. Her brain said that the headmaster would never ignore or abandon a student in need. There must be another explanation.
She was still anxious about knowing that her friends were alright, because most of her fears that she was forced to face surrounded them being hurt or killed. To watch them be murdered over and over again in her dreams and not be able to see them when she woke created a horrible cycle of fear.
She knew that Dumbledore had been traveling lately and giving Harry lessons about how to defeat Voldemort, so if he wasn't getting back to them quickly, she had to take it to mean that some very important development had been made in the quest to destroy the dark wizard. Dumbledore would not leave them in the dark without a good cause. Or at least that was what Hermione told herself.
But waiting was torture in itself. Hermione was terrified, even to go to sleep at night. She dreaded the realistic horrors that played out in her mind, pried from the darkest corners of her thoughts. One thing that was strangely consistent though, was the setting of the dreams. Each nightmare had something to do with either the cabin itself or the woods surrounding it. It frightened her to think that there was a point to it all.
Hermione didn't know what it meant, but Draco had become a part of her nightmare that previous night. If her dreams were preying on her worst fears, which included the death of someone she loved, what did it mean that Draco had taken on that role? She was increasingly confused by the care he had been showing her and her own feelings. Every night she woke up from a nightmare, he was there within minutes. Even the simplicity of his presence calmed her adrenaline filled heart and made her feel safe. Though, she couldn't seem to dwell on these thoughts as it took such energy.
Her terrors at night had begun to affect Hermione during the day. She was constantly paranoid, and jumped at even the slightest noise, not to mention the fact that she hadn't gotten a whole lot of sleep over the past few days. Dark circles had already made their mark under Hermione's eyes and even though she was so exhausted, she feared the thought of going to sleep.
Tap, tap, tap.
At the sound, she almost tossed her book in the air.
"Its just an owl," Draco assured her, standing up from the sofa where they were sitting to let the bird inside. Hermione took a deep breath in an attempt to reduce the amount of adrenaline that had just been pumped into her system.
He untied the note from the owl's leg. "It's from Dumbledore," he told her, sitting back down.
"What does it say?" Hermione asked.
She had to have confidence that the headmaster would be able to help them and was very anxious to make sure Harry and Ron were alright. Hermione was slightly annoyed when she saw that Draco was reading the letter first before telling her. She had already watched her friends die more than once and had been terribly afraid for their safety ever since the first nightmare. Why did he have the right to read it first?!
Why was she thinking like this? It wasn't something she would normally get upset over. Maybe it was just the lack of sleep.
Draco handed the her the piece of parchment.
Draco and Hermione,
My dear students, I do not wish to frighten you more than you must already be,
but there is a possibility of dark magic being involved in the nightmare you have
told me about. If the dream has only occurred the once then there is little need to
worry. If it is occurring more frequently, I fear it is a much more serious matter.
There are rumors of Voldemort experimenting with a powerful form of legilimency,
reaching one's thoughts through the form of dreams. Though these are merely rumors,
I implore you to be prepared. I apologize that I have not been able to respond quicker.
The boys are doing fine. The death of a close friend has been very hard on the both
of them, but if anything, it has made them more dedicated to their work. We are
moving along in our lessons much quicker than I had expected. It may be of some
encouragement to know that the end is near. I will be sending members of the order
to you so that you may have protection.
Keep alight with hope.
Dumbledore.
Hermione felt as though she couldn't breathe, like her chest was being weighed down by a thousand pounds and she had just been thrown into the deepest part of the ocean. Her eyes were wide as she read and reread Dumbledore's words. There was a likely chance that Voldemort was planting those images in her mind at night. What did all this mean? Was he really there, inside her mind, when she saw him in her dreams? Why would he be doing something like this?
This meant he knew she was alive. That, in itself was a horrifying thought. But why was he trying to enter her mind like this? Was he trying to learn their location? Why would he make such a big deal about finding them? Was it just because it was fun to torment a muggle-born this way? No, something bigger had to be going on here. Something bigger than just her, or even just her and Draco. For Voldemort himself to be involved and experimenting with new magic, this must be huge.
Dumbledore knew though, and that was a relief. Surely he would know a way to stop this, or at least figure one out. And she was very relieved that her friends were alright.
Draco had written Dumbledore about even that first nightmare. He had apparently been much more worried than he had let on. She looked over at him.
He was worried about you.
"What is he talking about?" Draco asked, looking at her through concerned eyes. "About his lessons moving along quicker than he had expected?"
That was the part he wished to discuss? Did he so expect the first discovery that it was overlooked?
"He is giving Harry lessons," she answered vaguely, still in shock about the initial part of the letter.
"Yeah, I got that part. I meant, what for?" he clarified.
Hermione sighed. She wasn't supposed to tell anyone about their lessons. But Dumbledore had brought it up in a letter addressed to them both. He wouldn't have done that if he didn't trust Draco with the knowledge. But still, she didn't like going against the headmaster's orders without absolute certainty. Was it important for Draco to know? Could he help with their knowledge?
She bit her bottom lip nervously, unsure of what to say.
"Learning how to defeat Voldemort," she decided. It didn't give too much away; she could still keep her word to Harry and Dumbledore, but she could also let Draco know a small bit.
He flinched at the use of the Voldemort's name.
"That's good . . . I guess," he said, looking down at his hands.
Did he think she didn't trust him enough to tell him more?
"It's not that I don't trust you," she began to clarify. "It's just that Dumbledore said we were not to talk about it with anyone else. I don't know all that much about it myself anymore. It sounds like they have had some sort of success . . . with something. I guess I haven't been around for a while."
The two sat in silence, minds going through every word in that letter. The nightmares were more than her own imagination. But they were close to the end of the war. That was a good thing right? That meant that everything would turn out alright, that she didn't have anything to worry about?
But when it came to someone breaking into your mind in your sleep, there was always something to worry about.
"What do we do now?" she asked quietly.
"I . . . I don't know," he replied.
"Well," Hermione started, trying to sound confident. Inside, she was utterly quaking with fear. "Would occlumency work?" she questioned. Maybe he could teach her.
"Not in your sleep, not until you have nearly mastered it," Draco told her solemnly. "I would have to teach you by breaking into your mind and that would leave you even more vulnerable to him."
"Then what do we do?" Hermione whispered, more to herself this time than him.
What do we do? What do we do? What do we do? What can we do?
Hermione searched her mind, sifting through any memory she could find of books she had read or lectures she had attended. Nothing was coming but a flood of frustration. It could have been the panic of the situation, but her memory was failing her in the most desperate of times.
She barely registered the stress etched onto Draco's face, how he aggressively ran his fingers through his hair in a bout of his own frustration. But Hermione did notice when he forcefully pushed away from the sofa and began pacing across the floor.
Hermione found herself wondering what exactly it was that stressed him so. Was it his own safety on the line that he needed to protect? Or was he this worried about her? Past evidence told her the latter was the truth. Somehow, even in the midst of the terror in finding her suspicions were correct, that Voldemort himself was gaining access to her mind, the thought almost made her smile. He was worried about her. And she could see by the fear in his eyes that he cared. She wasn't yet sure of her own feelings, but Hermione could see that Draco Malfoy cared about what happened to her. What a strange thought that was.
"What if we just left, went on the run," she suggested.
"They would find us even more quickly. There are strong wards around this place and no one knows it exists. Well, I guess the Order does now, but I took every precaution. The reason the Dark Lord is trying to enter your mind is to find it and that will take some time and digging considering even you don't know the exact location." Draco paused. "He will find it though. You may not know the exact coordinates but you have seen the surrounding area, you have seen the stars out your window at night, and from your memories, he will find us eventually."
"But if we move around. . ."
"We wouldn't have the protection we have here," Draco interrupted.
Hermione sighed. Draco was convinced that they would be found, but thought that by staying where they were they would buy some more time? She didn't quite understand.
She also didn't understand why Voldemort would enter her mind instead of Draco's. Perhaps, because he would recognize the intrusion, and would be able to block him out? Hermione knew from first hand experience that he could control his emotions incredibly well, but had he mastered occlumency in a way that could block this nightmare invasion?
Then she remembered Dumbledore's final words. He was going to send protection for them. They would be alright. Someone would arrive soon to help them. But it was hard to be relieved when she knew what would continue to haunt her at night.
Hermione stood beside her bed. She was completely exhausted, yet, she couldn't make herself crawl under the covers. She knew what was coming as soon as she would fall asleep. She knew that Voldemort himself was going to penetrate her mind and there was nothing she could do to stop it. There was nothing in her power to bring the terrors to an end.
So she stood, staring at the comfortable pillow, longing to rest her head upon it, but utterly afraid of the consequences of such an action. With sleep came paralyzing fear, the witnessing of horrific events, and the knowledge of the plot behind the experience made it all the more terrifying.
But she needed sleep. Her entire body cried out with fatigue, an unshakable heaviness, a necessity that begged for fulfillment.
Hermione couldn't make herself do it. She felt as though, by climbing into the bed and by falling asleep, she was allowing Voldemort to roam her thoughts, giving him access to her mind. She felt afraid and unsafe.
What was the one thing that gave her a feeling of safety? What was it that pulled her back to reality after a horrid nightmare? Not an it, but a who.
Draco.
She knew that having him beside her was the only way her tired body was going to get any rest. And maybe, it wouldn't be so terrifying waking up from the dream if she wasn't alone.
What was she thinking? She couldn't just ask him to stay the night with her!
He would do it.
Hermione knew instinctively, after watching him that past day, that he would. But was she ready for something like that? It wasn't as if anything more would happen other than sleep, but still, it seemed so intimate, and she couldn't even say what exactly she felt for him yet.
But you do feel something. She may not know what, though she couldn't disagree that she felt something.
She trusted him; trusted him enough to be considering asking him to stay with her that night, knowing that he wouldn't take advantage of her vulnerable situation. She hadn't trusted anyone that much other than Harry and Ron. But it was more than that. Simply the knowledge that he was worried enough to take action about the dream, even after the first one, seeing the stress in his eyes as his fears were confirmed about what was happening to her, just knowing that he cared about her made her heart flutter. And that sounded very cliché and girly, but it was true.
It might have been the exhaustion taking control of her body and her longing for sleep disorienting her thoughts, but her feet had taken on a mind of their own and walked her to her bedroom door.
She took a deep breath before opening the door and marching confidently towards Draco's room.
Hermione got about half-way there before her brain kicked back in.
This was insane. This was a bad idea.
She spun on her heel and headed back to her own room.
What was she thinking?! She couldn't just knock on his door and ask him to stay the night with her!
But as soon as she got back to her own door, she froze. She could see the bed through the open doorway and it seemed so frightening, alone in a dark room. She shivered at the thought of even entering the room again.
She squeezed her eyes shut. What was happening to her? She used to be strong and independent, and now, she needed someone with her to even enter her bedroom. Voldemort was doing this and she couldn't stop him.
Hermione turned her head to look down the hall from which she had just come, anxiously chewing her bottom lip.
She needed to sleep. She needed to sleep and in order to do that, she knew she needed someone there with her when she woke from the inevitable nightmare. She had to do this. She needed Draco tonight.
With one more steadying breath, she moved her feet, one in front of the other, until she stood in front of Draco's door.
She looked behind her again. Was she really going to do this?
Yes.
Hermione knocked.
The door opened and a slightly disheveled Draco stood before her.
"Is everything alright?" he asked.
"Yes . . . well . . . no . . . um, I was wondering . . . If you would . . . you see, I'm having a problem . . . with sleep . . . well actually, even entering my room and . . . and you always seem to be able to calm me down . . . I just . . . um . . . now that I know what the nightmares really are. . . I . . . don't want to be alone. . ."
"Do you want me to stay with you tonight? Is that what you're trying to ask?" Draco inquired, cutting off Hermione's awkward rambling.
She turned her eyes toward the ground, not sure if she wanted to she his reaction. What if she had misjudged? She nodded at the floor.
"I will, if that will help you," he told her.
Had someone suggested this would happen even a few months ago, he would have hexed them.
"Yes . . . well . . . no . . . um, I was wondering . . . If you would . . . you see, I'm having a problem . . . with sleep . . . well actually, even entering my room and . . . and you always seem to be able to calm me down . . . I just . . . um . . . now that I know what the nightmares really are. . . I . . . don't want to be alone. . ."
She was nervous. She was unsure. She was scared. She was asking for his help. She was asking for his company. Draco didn't know how to feel about it.
On the one hand, he was afraid for her; for her safety, for her sanity. And he didn't know what to do. He couldn't protect her from an intrusion into her mind. He had seen the damage the Dark Lord could inflict on a person simply by gaining access to to their thoughts and knowing that Hermione was going through that same psychological torture without being able to do anything about it was killing him inside.
But the fact that she needed him, desired his company, trusted him enough to ask; it was all he had ever dreamed about. Sure, she was awkward, probably uncertain of his response to such a request, and had a hard time asking the actual question, but there was no way he would turn her down. She was giving him something he could do to help her.
"Do you want me to stay with you tonight? Is that what you're trying to ask?" Draco clarified.
Hermione's eyes fell to the floor, seemingly embarrassed. He would take that as confirmation.
"I will, if that will help you," he assured.
Moving to her room, he saw the fear, fatigue, and determination in Hermione's posture as she took a deep breath before entering. She had a right to be terrified of that room, of sleep. Knowing that most likely, the Dark Lord was going to enter her mind again that night, must have been absolutely petrifying.
It was a bit awkward first climbing into the bed, but he was surprised when Hermione curled herself against his chest. He closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around her, holding her tighter.
Draco tried to remind himself that the only reason she would act this way was because she was scared beyond belief, terrified of what the night would bring and needed someone, anyone, to hold her. But feeling the perfect fit of her body against his, her soft hair pressed under his chin, he desperately hoped it was more than just the fear of the Dark Lord's intrusion leading her to trust him in this way.
Author's Note:
Hey guys, sorry for the long wait. This is what happens when I don't get enough reviews! You guys are my motivation and when I don't hear from you, it is hard to write. Sorry to SereniteRose, bennettfan84 and Firebolt.1.4.3 who did review. Thank you so much. Unfortunately, I didn't get the chapter done for last week.
But here it is now! I hope it is alright, it is a bit of a filler chapter. I hope the middle section wasn't too scattered! I had a bit of a hard time getting everything to fit together right.
Trust me, you guys are going to want to read the next few chapters (wink, wink).
Please let me know what you think! Thanks for reading!