Nightmares and Nocturnes

The Dragon / The Hero

Chapter 19: The Dragon / The Hero

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2003

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Hermione -

The voice in the room, the blood in her ears, the pain in her spine, the tears on her cheeks -

Hermione, now!

Her eyes snapped open.

The same nightmare. If only she could call it a nightmare and not simply a memory; not simply a series of secrets she'd locked inside her, the last remains of what they'd been, what they'd done, who they'd loved -

"You're awake," Harry murmured, running a hand through his hair. He'd lost a considerable amount of weight since the Ministry; she worried about him.

She worried about everything.

"Did I oversleep?" she asked, struggling to sit up."You look - "

"Like shit," he supplied, grinning. "Worse than yesterday - "

"Better than tomorrow," she finished, managing to mirror his smile.

He ducked his head, the smile disappearing into the curve of his hand. "Well," he opened warily. "What shall we do today, you think?"

The same nightmare on an endless loop -

Hermione, now!

Harry!

- and always waking up alone together.

"The same as always," she murmured. "We keep looking, Harry."

He brought his hand down, curling it around a grimace and then letting it fall into his lap. "You'd think I'd grow out of hoping," he said, his gaze drifting. "Get tired of it or something."

"Nah," Hermione whispered, reaching out to brush an errant hair from his forehead. "I think it's in your bones."

He said nothing for a moment, and she let him. He existed somewhere far away; somewhere in a thought, a wish, a memory - a place she couldn't follow. They each lived in their own haunted cerebrations, condemned to their respective nightmares - their respective ghosts - and the place behind his eyelids was different from hers.

It was the least she could do to let him exist there in relative peace.

"What about your bones?" he asked eventually, returning momentarily to offer her a fleeting glance. "What happens if - "

He took a deep breath, sighing out an exhale. "What happens if I can't do it one morning?" he asked quietly, staring intently at his lap. "What if one of these days I get tired of looking, or I've run out of ideas, or we finally find out that everyone we used to know is - " he sighed. "What if they're all - "

Dead, she knew he wanted to say; wanted never to say.

"They're not," Hermione admonished him sternly, climbing out of her bed to settle herself beside him, reaching for his hand. "You know they're not, Harry, it would be in the papers, or - "

"It's been a year since the Ministry, Hermione," he reminded her, wilting slightly at the words. "And in that entire year, there hasn't been a single article on anyone."

She hesitated. "Yes," she confirmed uncertainly. "But still, I would think - "

"I'm just saying," Harry interrupted, "I feel like I might be dragging you through this for nothing." He stiffly afforded her an apologetic smile. "I'm the one intent on finding Luna, after all - I'm the one insisting we stay here, but - "