Chapter 4

Though her friendship with Narcissa was growing rapidly, and she was beginning to see turning her to their side as a real possibility, it wasn't as all pleasant and easy as she would have liked it to be. She despised lying to her. Keeping such a heavy secret, and having no one to share it with was becoming tremendously hard work. She trusted her, perhaps a little too much, but none the less she longed to tell her. And then there were the nightmares.

There was a flash of green light. It ripped through the air, hitting Harry squarely in the chest. Screaming surrounded her. Her own, Ginny's, Ron's, it overwhelmed her, was louder than humanly possible. She sank to her knees, hands clapped over her ears. She could feel the blood seeping through her fingers, running hot and sticky down her icy hands. Harry's lifeless body fell like a broken doll to the ground. Voldimort gave a horrific, terrifying shriek of victory that echoed around the shattered remains of the castle. It shook the ground it's self, rubble collapsing in around them. His red eyes glowed, shining as blood flowed from them down his snake like face as he turned on her. Boulders, wood splinters stones and rubble began to cave in on top of her. She screamed.

Hermione sat bold upright, gasping for air, her face wet with both tears and sweat alike. She found Narcissa's frightened face close to hers as she perched on the end of her bed.

"Hermione what happened?" she asked, her voice quivering, full of fear and concern. "What happened? Tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing," Hermione gasped hurriedly wiping her eyes on her pyjama sleeve. "Just a dream." She muttered.

"Don't lie to me," Narcissa snapped. "I've never seen someone wake up so terrified. Tell me what happened," she said more gently, smoothing back dark curls from the girls face. Hermione shook her head, looking downhopelessly as she was suddenly overcome by a fresh wave of tears. Narcissa sighed in defeat. She pulled the crying girl into her arms and simply held her. She guided them carefully down so that they were lying on the pillows and pulled the covers up around them. And she held her as she cried, gently stroking her hair, her face, murmuring word of comfort.

"What ever this great secret is, this burden that you are carrying," she whispered softly, "you can't carry it alone for ever. It will eat you up Hermione." She was right. But if she told her, would she still trust her? Could she handle the truth? She didn't want to risk loosing her.

"You can trust me," Narcissa whispered, in answer to Hermione's silent question. "I won't let it destroy you like this. What ever it is, I swear I won't think any less of you." Narcissa placed a soft kiss on her forehead, making her look up as she did so.

"What was that for?" she asked. The corner of Narcissa's mouth curled up into a little smile.

"Because," she murmured. Leaning in closer she captured Hermione's mouth with her own. She could taste the salt-water tears on her lips. She puled the brunette closer, removing all unwanted space between them, holding her close, caressing her face, her hair. When, finally, they parted, Hermione's cheeks were flushed pink. Narcissa chuckled to herself.

"I've made you blush," she observed.

"Kissing a person would do that to them," Hermione said, a little breathless.

"You have no idea how long I have wanted to do that," Narcissa breathed. "I told you. I always get what I want." Hermione smiled and nestled into her, closing her eyes.

"You have me," she said. "I'm yours."

The late morning sun filtered through the gaps in the hangings around Hermione's bed, gently coaxing Narcissa from sleep. Her eyes fluttered open and she found herself gazing at Hermione's peacefully sleeping form. She studied her in the soft autumn light, the placement of the light freckles on her nose and cheeks, the way her long dark eyes lashes nearly swept her cheekbones as she slept, and her slightly parted pink lips. She couldn't help but marvel at her beauty. It was so simple, so natural and pure. Asleep, all her worries, her mysteries and complexities seemed no longer to plague her. She seemed at peace.

Hermione's light green and brown eyes opened sleepily and she found herself looking into the cool blue oceans of Narcissa's eyes.

"Good morning," the blond said softly.

"Good morning."

"How did you sleep?" Narcissa asked, sweeping aside a stray curl from Hermione's face.

"Better," she said, "After you came," she added almost shyly.

"Are you okay?" concern leaked into Narcissa's voice.

"I will be."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Hermione shook her head and tore her gaze away from Narcissa's worried face.

"What ever it is Hermione, you don't have to carry this secret alone." Hermione sighed. It saddened her not to be able to tell her. She really did want to help.

"Not yet," she said, looking up into her beautiful blond's face. Narcissa huffed in an almost child like manner, making Hermione smile.

"Why?" she asked. "It can't be that awful can it?"

"It's very complicated," said Hermione darkly. "It's dark and awful and horrific and so complex that I don't even think I would know where to start." Narcissa was looking solemnly at her, icy eyes sparkling with their ever constant curiosity. Hermione traced the side of her face with the back of her finger and kissed her softly on the lips.

"And I can't tell you," she added sadly, "because I don't want to loose you, so soon after I have found you."