Nightmares, Panic attacks, Hogwarts ride, sorting and snogging, of course.
Disclaimer: this series belongs to Jk Rowling. Whom of which I'm not very fond of at the moment.
Harry woke with a start, a scream on the tip of his tongue that he managed to bite down at the last second. His hair was plastered to his forehead, as was his clothes to his skin; he was shaking, a small whimper escaping through his laboured breathing as he continued to push away the urge to scream at the top of his lungs.
He was just so frustrated. He hated how a single memory could completely crush his mood; he hated how it could fog his mind for days and knock down several walls he'd been able to rebuild since the incident. He just felt helpless, he'd been so happy with everything going on, and now, none of it seemed to matter, all because of his stupid 'saving people thing' and his inability to forgive himself for something he couldn't control.
His throat was burning, eyes stinging as he squeezed them shut; he was not going to cry over the same thing again.
How could he let himself fall asleep?
The young wizard drew his knees to his chest and tried to slow his racing heart; he barely ever allowed himself to sleep at night, at least not alone.
It was almost nightly now that Hermione would sneak into his room for comfort, less now because of nightmares, more so because she knew he prevented them. At first, she would simply stay and talk, knowing he would be up, scold him for not sleeping (all the while being slightly relieved that he was awake) and then leave, her mind now distracted. Soon, though, she began to stay the night, tending to sneak out before dawn to avoid the wrath of Mrs Weasley, who had been extremely enthusiastic about their newfound relationship.
That had been their routine for the past month, Hermione hoping–read, knowing–he would chase away her nightmares, and Harry only sleeping when she was by his side. Harry was praying that tonight would be no different.
He didn't notice she had walked in and come beside him until he felt a hand on his arm; he nearly jumped from the bed.
"Harry–Harry!" The young witch gripped his wrists, pulling them from his face as he gave up a slight protest as if he was trying to protect his head rather than try and hurt his visitor– he knew who it was, but his mind was still in fight mode. "Harry, it's me. Harry, it's Hermione!" She whispered frantically, now on her knees in front of him.
He couldn't breathe; it was all his fault; he tried to shrink in on himself as he dragged himself backwards, towards the headboard. Guilt erupted in his stomach while tears he had been holding since he was at the Dursley's finally spilt, trailing down his face and dripping onto his sleep shirt. "Breath, Harry!" The girl in front of him begged quietly, tears lacing her voice, "Focus on your breathing! Please!"
How could he let himself fall asleep!
"I can't." He choked a sob, shaking his head, vigorously, "I can't, I can't, I can't." He'd been doing so well; he hadn't had that nightmare in weeks, he hadn't slept long enough to actually have one. His stomach was churning, his heart beating a tattoo on his ribcage.
He felt her push his knees down, vaguely aware he was grabbing at his chest, his breathing coming out in sharp, harsh gasps; it was just so painful. She straddled his legs, gripping his wrists and pulling them away from his body before he hurt himself; he tried to tell her to keep away. Hermione said something back, but her voice sounded so far away like he was underwater and couldn't surface to hear her; he felt as though he were drowning. Hermione brought her hands up to his neck, her palms resting above his racing pulse, before pulling his head forward and crashing their lips together.
Harry froze at the feel of her lips, and his eyes went wide; he could taste the salt of her tears– or his own; he slowly began to kiss her back as his eyes slid closed.
Soon, Hermione slowly pulled back to look at him; his eyes were hooded, brows furrowed.
But he was breathing steadily.
"Holding your breath can help stop a panic attack; that's why I kissed you, so you'd hold your breath." The brunette informed at his confused gaze, her thumbs absently brushing away his now stilled tears, "I read that somewhere," She muttered as an afterthought; Harry nodded.
"I'm sorry," Harry whispered to her blurry figure, hiccuping, his hands kept a loose grip on her hips.
"Do not apologize; you couldn't control-"
"No, I'm sorry for everything. For yelling at you after my vision when all you were trying to do was be cautious; I'm sorry for dragging you into that mess and letting you get hurt; I'm sorry for everything." The boy's voice sounded so different, so quiet. He sounded fragile and broken; he sounded scared.
"Don't you dare, Harry Potter." She hit his chest lightly to emphasize her words, "I've told you hundreds of times before, you have nothing, nothing to be sorry for. This whole situation– all of it! It's so messed up, and you shouldn't have to be in the middle of it; look what it's doing to you.
You haven't slept a whole night in months Harry, all of this destruction is at the hands of other people's mistakes, other people's bad decisions, and it's getting to you! You're the one at the receiving end, and I hate it; you didn't do anything! The night Sirius died-" Harry flinched, gripping her tighter, "You made a choice you shouldn't have had to make in the first place! You shouldn't have been in a situation where you had to make it. What else would you have done? And we weren't about to leave you; when will you get that into your head? That was our choice to go with you.
You need to understand that no one blames you for what happened, you can't keep bottling up your emotions, it isn't healthy, rather than ignore it; rather than simply avoid it, talk to me." Her ability to figure out his troubles with as little as a few uttered words from himself still baffled him; she cupped his face, "I'm here, and I'm not going."
Harry wanted nothing more than to kiss her right then, to show her how much her words meant to him, how much she meant to him, but he was so tired. In one swift motion, he pulled her to him in a fierce hug, one final sob escaping his lips. Harry shifted without letting go, gradually slipping down until his head was against the pillow, and Hermione was lying practically on top of him. "Thank you." He breathed into her hair, the solidness of her body reassuring him as she buried her face in the crook of his neck.
She stayed faithful to her word for the rest of the night.
It was mere hours later when Harry began to stir, immediately registering the feel of warm breath on his face. He slowly opened his bloodshot eyes; they felt stiff and dry as he rubbed them tiredly. It took Harry a moment to recall the previous night's events; he could barely remember anything; the nightmare, the panic attack, and Hermione. He couldn't remember any conversations, just feelings- feeling like something was pressing hard against his chest… feeling like he was dying.
He shook his head in an attempt to waft away these thoughts and looked at the girl in front of him; she was so close Harry could see her well enough without his glasses; she was facing him, their legs and arms intertwined with her forehead touching his. He moved slightly to look at the clock behind him. "3:50 am", He mumbled; he must not have slept long at all, the sun had barely risen, and no Weasley in the household was set to rise for another 3 hours.
A groan snapped him out of his thoughts, and he turned towards the sound, his movements obviously waking the dozing witch beside him, and he was met with Hermione's whiskey coloured gaze. Harry had never had the pleasure of seeing Hermione when she had just woken up; she had always slipped out of his room while he was still asleep.
"Morning," She murmured while she stifled a yawn.
"Hi." His voice was hoarse from sleep.
"Do you feel better?" She questioned after a moment of comfortable silence.
"I do now," Harry promised, moving some hair away from her face, "Waking up to your face is rather enjoyable." He smiled at her quiet laughter.
"Smooth, Potter, smooth." She fiddled with the fabric of his sleep shirt.
"I do try." There was a spark of mischief in his eyes; his heart felt lighter than it had in a long while; he didn't know how much he needed to let his emotions loose. "Did you sleep okay?" His hand rubbed her arm gently, the skin like silk under his fingers, she shivered.
"I slept just fine." Her hand came up to run through his hair, "I should probably think about heading back soon."
"Nah, it's still early; we have loads of time."
"Do we now?" She smirked, her hands returning to his chest.
"Ahuh." He confirmed, grinning. "Besides, you can just say you were making sure I'd packed everything." The pair, along with the youngest Weasleys, was set to return to Hogwarts that day; Harry had retired to his room early yesterday afternoon, saying he ought to start in order to refrain from forgetting anything.
"Have you packed everything?" Her gaze moved with deliberate slowness to his mouth.
"Mhm." Harry felt his heartbeat quicken.
"Then I've done my job." And with that, she shifted forward in the bed and pressed her lips against his.
"Do you have any idea what you do to me, Granger?" The raven-haired wizard finally pulled back, sensing a shift and seeing it fit to slow down. He was wedged between her body and her legs, his arms resting at either side of her head.
"You're one to talk." The girl beneath him accused with a grin, chest heaving.
"You started it."
"You insinuated it."
"You fell for it."
"You." She corrected, bringing a hand to his cheek; Harry felt his heart tug. I fell for you.
"Yeah," He nodded. "You."
They stared at each other for a moment, Hermione's legs slipping from his waist before she broke the silence. "It's a shame that we won't be able to do this much once we're back." He nodded in agreement while she looked at the clock; he moved slightly to allow her to reach over and grab his glasses. "I suppose you'll need longer to get ready now."
"Oh, haha, aren't you hilarious." He deadpanned; her fingers brushed his fringe as she placed the spectacles on his nose, letting him see her clearly. Her smiling face was flushed, making her freckles more prominent on her dark skin, her hair a tangled mess on the pillow. She looked so casually stunning that he couldn't help but kiss her again, tugging on her bottom lip with his teeth gently as he pulled away. "You're beautiful."
"And you're blinded by attraction." She sing-songed, kissing his forehead before pushing him back and wriggling out of his grip and sitting beside him, the covers falling away.
Harry sat up, shaking his head at her antics, "If you don't believe me, you'll just have to take my word for it." He played with her fingers, "And as sappy as it sounds, Happy one month." He kissed her temple softly, and she smiled, repeating his words and agreeing, Yes, it does sound rather sappy, doesn't it?. Harry glanced at the clock, noting the time. "You really ought to go; I don't fancy a talk with a stressed Mrs Weasley on the day we go back to school." He snickered at Hermione's sudden change in expression.
"Oh, alright, then." She caved, leaning over to give him one more kiss, lingering slightly before slipping off the bed with great reluctance. "I'll see you later."
"Hey, Hermione?" The green-eyed boy said suddenly; she paused, turning towards him with one hand on the door handle, eyebrow raised. "Thank you."
"You already said that." She whispered, shaking her head and sending him a warm smile. "Thank you, too."
Before he could contradict, Hermione had tiptoed out of the room and shut the door.
Harry sighed; he needed a cold shower.
"Ron, you've got to be joking." An amused raven-haired voice chuckled as he watched his best friend scramble around the room in a frenzy; he had clearly left his packing to the last minute. "Everyone else is ready."
"Everyone?!?" He moaned, "You don't have to just stand there, you know!" The ginger growled, tossing a pile of clothes into his trunk, "You could help me."
"I'm not touching any of that stuff; I don't know where it's been."
"I hate you with every fibre of my being." He whined from under his bed, a string of curse words erupting from his mouth when he couldn't find a specific book.
"Yeah, I adore you too," Harry replied, his tone bored.
"Ronald Weasley, if your trunk isn't down here in the next ten minutes..." Mrs Weasley's booming voice caused both boys to jump out of their skins; she left the sentence hanging, allowing it to echo through the house.
"Yeah, good luck with that." He gestured towards the door, ignoring the shouts of protest from Ron as he exited, "Should have packed earlier, mate!"
Mrs Weasley had hugged all four children fiercely, whispering for them to stay safe and begging them to take care of one another; her hug, as always, startled Harry, but he appreciated them very much.
"None of these people have any decency what's so ever." Harry heard Ginny grumble as they searched for an empty compartment. "Think they can treat you like dirt all year, and the second the paper prove you were telling the truth, they want to be best mates, what a bunch of hypocrites." The youngest Weasley glared at a pair of fourth years that had been staring for a little too long. Harry looked around; the familiar faces that used to glare, scowl and turn their nose up at him now smiled and waved, as if the previous year never happened.
"S'not a big deal." Harry insisted weakly, squirming under the gaze of several 5th-year girls who were giggling and blushing as the group walked past their window. "For Merlin's sake." He flattened his fringe in an attempt to cover his scar.
"Ah yes, the Harry Potter fan club is overflowing once more," Ron said in mock excitement; he too was giving some rather unpleasant looks to anyone who looked their way.
"They have to be the slightest bit aware of how obvious they are," Hermione grumbled; Harry could sense the displeasure in her tone. "I mean, honestly, it's embarrassing on their part…" Her sentence was cut short as a yawn escaped her lips, barely giving her time to cover her mouth.
"Tired, Hermione?" Ginny teased; they were nearing the train's rear end; she smiled when both Harry and Hermione turned beet red.
"Sod off, Gin." His voice was a fraction higher, causing Ron to release a snicker.
"I wasn't talking to you." She looked at him innocently, her eyes sparkling; he responded with an unimpressed expression. "Ah! Finally." She paused in front of a compartment that only had a single occupant, sliding open the door and entering, "Hello, Neville, do you mind if we join you?"
The blonde wizard looked up with a smile and moved over to make more room, Trevor giving an audible 'ribbit' for being disturbed. "Of course not." Neville smiled just as the train jolted, and they began to move.
The four thanked him before moving to take their seats; just as Hermione sat down beside Harry, she shot straight back up, her eyes widening. "Prefects meeting." She stated simply, turning towards Ron, "We have to go." She informed, the redhead groaned in objection, which Hermione ignored. "We won't be too long." Her sorry eyes were set on him; Harry waved a hand, dismissing her words.
"Go on; I'll be fine. I'm a big boy. I can take care of myself." Harry grinned, "Besides, these two will keep me out of trouble." He gestured toward Ginny and Neville.
"Oh, alright." The corner of her lips twitched as she kissed his cheek. "Come on, Ron." Hermione all but dragged the grumbling Weasley from the compartment.
"So, how was your summer, Neville?" Harry turned towards the other boy, raising an eyebrow at his confused expression. "What?"
"Are we not going to talk about what just happened?" He gestured towards the door Ron and Hermione had just exited through. Harry gave him a puzzled look while Ginny stifled a snigger behind her hand; Neville continued, "Has there been some development between you and Hermione, or…?" He narrowed his eyes suggestively, a smirk growing on his face; Harry squeaked, Ginny burst out laughing.
"I- well, we sort of- I mean she and me- uh I mean Hermione and I–" Harry spluttered, the room suddenly increasing in temperature; this only made Ginny laugh harder.
"Oh, don't hurt yourself, Harry." She wiped tears of laughter from her eyes. "Lover-boy here, along with the girl of his dreams, finally snogged this summer." Harry buried his face in his hands, thoroughly embarrassed by how she was making it seem. Were they really that obvious before? "They've been attached at the hip for a month now."
"A month?" Neville asked with a grin.
"Yes." Harry hissed. "A month today." He added under his breath.
"I'm happy for you, mate." Neville added sincerely, "Merlin knows you deserve it."
Harry was stunned for a moment, his annoyance pausing before smiling warmly at his friend. "Thanks, Neville."
"And to answer your previous question, my summer was alright, you two?"
"Alright." Ginny and Harry answered at the same time. Just then, there was tapping at the door, causing all eyes to land upon a silver-haired witch with very peculiar glasses.
"Hello." Luna greeted simply when they gestured for her to open the door; she lifted the glasses to her forehead. "I came for Neville, Hannah was asking for you, and I said I would come to find you," She turned towards Ginny, seemingly unaware of how red Neville suddenly turned. "I ran into Dean, and he told me to tell you he was looking for you if I saw you, so I would; Dean is looking for you." Her voice was light as she gripped several copies of the Quibbler to her chest.
"Ah, great," Ginny muttered darkly at the mention of her boyfriend.
"He did seem anxious to find you. You don't seem as such." Luna observed, her eyes fixed on the ceiling.
"You're not wrong," The redhead sighed before hauling herself up. "Come on, Neville," She looked back at Harry, "You'll be alright?" He rolled his eyes.
"I'll be fine. I'll occupy myself."
"Alright then," She threw him a small smile before leaving the compartments, a confused, flushing Neville in tow; Luna hung back a moment.
"Hello, Harry." The younger witch addressed him again as though she had only walked in.
"Hello, Luna."
"The Wrackspurts surrounding your head seem awfully confused." She had slid her Spectrespecs back onto her nose and was eyeing him curiously.
"Sorry?"
"Wrackspurts. Invisible creatures that make your head fuzzy and stop positive thoughts; your head's full of them, but they seem a bit unsure of whether they want to be there or not. As if something is keeping them at bay." Luna explained as though it was common knowledge, her eyes now drifting around the room.
"Right." Harry's eyes furrowed. He wasn't about to contradict her claims; after all, Thestrals are invisible to most, and they do exist. "H-how was your summer?"
"Oh, it was lovely. Daddy and I spent lot's of time researching for the Quibbler; it really was quite enjoyable." She smiled, her dreamy voice becoming distant, slowly drifting from the conversation. "Well, I'll be going back to Hannah now. You seem like you'd rather be alone."
Harry was about to protest, afraid her feelings were hurt, but Luna simply merely waved and skipped out of the compartment, leaving Harry by himself.
He let out a long sigh that he didn't know he was holding before slumping in his seat, leaning his head on the window and focusing on the scenery as it moved past.
He had his eyes closed when he sensed her, hearing the door slide open and shut. He turned towards the interruption of his thoughts and smiled, lifting his arm in invitation, which she took gratefully, sitting down and pulling her knees up. Harry wrapped his arm around her and pulled her closer while she lay her head on his chest, sighing at the content.
"Where's Ron?" Harry enquired after a long moment.
"He and Seamus started arguing about Quidditch on our way back, thought it was best to leave them," Hermione informed, opening her eyes and taking in the empty compartment. "What about Ginny and Neville? Where'd they wander off to?"
"Dean was looking for Ginny, Hannah was looking for Neville, Luna came and got them."
"Ahhh, right." Hermione grimaced at the mention of Ginny's current boyfriend. "She's not very happy with him, Ginny. He doesn't seem to be either." She bit her lip, "It's rather sad." Harry hummed in agreement just as Hermione let out another yawn.
"Tired, Granger?" He poked her cheek, eyes dancing.
"Not at all." She claimed, another yawn escaping her, lifting up her head to face him; he smiled down at her.
"Liar." Harry accused before capturing her lips in a kiss, deepening it briefly before pulling back and placing another on her forehead, her eyes drifting closed at the contact. "You're already using me as a pillow, may as well do it properly."
Hermione scrunched up her nose, reaching for his hand and checking the time on his watch. "We do have a few hours yet… Oh, alright." She relented, moving to bury her head in the crook of his neck, "You too, you must be exhausted…" She trailed off, eyes drooping.
"Well, I don't really have a choice, with you practically on top of me and all."
"Prat."
"Oi, wake up, you lazy bugger." The harsh whisper and flick of his best mate snapped him awake; he moved his head so fast that he banged it on the wall.
"Ow! You pillock, what was that for?" Harry hissed back, any drowsiness seeping away as he rubbed the sore spot on his head; he froze when he realized Hermione was still fast asleep on him.
"You've been asleep for hours! I was bored!"
"You were bored?" Harry repeated, yawning quietly. "What exactly do you want me to do? I'm as useful awake as I was asleep; I still can't move." He gestured towards the curly-haired witch snuggled up to him.
"Well, just wake her up–"
"No!" Harry held up a hand to stop the redhead before lowering his voice. "She's absolutely knackered; I kept her up most of the night…" He looked up at his friend, who had a sly grin sliding on to his freckled face. "Not like that, you plonker." The raven-haired wizard scrunched up his face. "I had a nightmare… A bad one." He said simply, eyes downcast.
"Oh…" Ron shrunk in his seat and began picking at the fabric if his jumper.
"Yeah… Oh."
They lapsed into an uncomfortable silence, Harry staring out the window, grumpy from being rudely awoken, while Ron wrung his hands together.
"Have you seen Cho, yet?"
"Huh?"
"Cho, have you seen her?" The Weasley son repeated.
"No, why?"
"Can't imagine she'd be thrilled with this development." He gestured towards him and the sleeping girl.
"So? It's not as if it's any of her business."
"She's your ex-girlfriend Harry, one who was suspicious of us anyway and will probably be bitter. That and it's highly unlikely that her feelings for you have completely disappeared." A hoarse, muffled voice explained from his chest.
"Hey, how long have you been awake?" Harry rubbed her arm as she stretched slightly, pushing herself to sit up.
"Long enough," Hermione muttered. "I meant what I said, and Ron's right; she won't be happy." She frowned, rubbing her eyes.
"Well, she'll just have to be sore, because I don't like her like that, not even a little, believe me." Harry attempted to reassure her. Her insecurities were painted across her features. "Besides, I'm pretty sure it was my buried feelings for another certain witch that caused that relationship to crumble before it had even begun." He used the term lightly. "Don't you think?"
"Hmm, I guess." She pretended to ponder before smiling and pressing a kiss to his cheek.
"You two are painful to be around." Ron butt in, cringing.
"You brought it up."
"And I regret my decisions."
"Oh!" Hermione exclaimed abruptly, "We ought to be changing into our robes; we should be arriving soon." She gripped Harry's wrist again, reading his watch. "Come on."
"Blimey, we weren't that small, were we?" Harry whispered to Ron on his left side, tilting his head as the new 1st years entered the hall, eyes alight and a look of astonishment on their faces as they looked around the Great Hall, hungrily drinking in every detail. A particular first year brought his attention on Harry, glancing at his forehead before gasping and turning away with a flushed face.
"They get smaller and smaller every year," Ron watched Harry flatten his fringe and sighed, now focusing on the other tables as the hat began to sing. "Oh, honestly, even I'm more mature than them", He whispered, shaking his head at two Hufflepuff girls who were whispering to each other, pointing at 'the chosen one', then giggling with flushed faces."
"One moment I'm a liar, the next I'm The Chosen One, brilliant." He deadpanned, scrunching his face at the girls who turned away immediately.
"Every girl who is attracted to the male species is in love with you, Harry," Hermione whispered from his right, her breath tickling his ear. "Same goes for boys." Her lips were in a thin line.
Harry went to reply when he caught the eye of a familiar face at the Professor's table, "That's the new potions teacher, the one I met."
"Slughorn, was it?" Harry nodded, clapping with the others as the Sorting hat finished singing and began to sort the 11-year-olds.
"If he's teaching potions, then what's Snape doing?" He heard Seamus ask quietly from across the table; Harry shrugged.
"There's no one in the Defence seat," Dean noted anxiously.
"I doubt Snape would actually be given the job." Ginny shook her head, staring at the door, the teachers would enter from, waiting for the remaining Professor, each of them clapping when they gained a new member to Gryffindor.
The door opened.
"He didn't," Harry heard Lavender gasp in disbelief.
"Dumbledore has gone mad!" Ron hissed, glaring at the ex-potions Professor as he strode to his seat; Harry hummed in agreement.
"Well, if this year wasn't going hard enough," Hermione huffed.
Harry couldn't help but agree.