Blade Of War (Dramione)

Chapter 17

She still questions his intent. He's agonizing, inhumane--but humans have fears and he in fact had a prominent one. The way it taunted her brain broke her into miniscule pieces. As if the mere fact that they had a near same boggart just didn't sit right with her, it couldn't. 

Right when she was on that cold floor and the scene of Malfoy played out, she shifted her gaze between her arm and his. It made it much worse.

Even days later it's almost bitter on her tongue. Her dreams made it all that more agonizing.

Certain nights it was nothing but hazy memories, either from Hogwarts or the battle field, events she's already replayed, awake as ever. Yet other times it was almost the same set up, Ron, her, and Harry simply running through the woods. She assumed it was from when they were hunting for horcruxes, yet nothing she saw provided relevance for where the objects were.

The way her and them talked had her heart racing for miles. Almost like they were still there.

Harry looking disheveled in every sense as he ran his hands through his hair in utter frustration. Her dreams were almost too real to sleep through. 

She hadn't a clue if one night her dreams would unravel something of relevant use. Perhaps-- a location, a hint, clue, anything. She made it a priority to keep a close look during her long nights.

She would almost scream right when she woke up, it was almost a habit for her to bite back her tongue before a noise came out. Occasionally she'd grab her journal from her nightstand and scribble down whatever she could remember, anything that she could use in progress of the horcruxes. She was on high alert after each dream, some more than others.

She also had another one in which it was quite vivid, yet it was more of a side thought. Parvati on the battle field as her face goes cold, right at the second her eyes meets Lavender's. On the ground still, yet Padma couldn't even mourn, she still had to fight for her own life. In class she'd usually look Lavenders way when she had any thought she'd need to share. In that moment she looked at her rather different.

Her dreams were rather cold. Confusing, yet in a way she couldn't decipher.

She just hopes Malfoy won't come up in one again. She always constantly lingered on it afterwards. 

She didn't think she could sleep a wink, she relieves it in the morning by trailing down the halls to the library or pacing perhaps.

"Those dreams will be the death of you Granger." Malfoy speaks, as she turns his way in the empty hall, as she made her daily stroll to the library.

No, Malfoy, I suspect that'd be you. 

She assumes he hears her fast paces in the midst of the night, along with her occasional shrieks.

Hermione felt rather conflicted on her response. She didn't know what to say about her dreams, she didn't want to seem foolish for being affected by them.

"You'd be alarmed too if you had them every night." She speaks reluctant, as he looks at her in question.

"Any new memories In that brain of yours?" He speaks casually, as she slowly shakes her head in no. She didn't think she could willingly tell him anyhow. 

She doesn't trust him one bit.

"You do realize what time it is when you're racing for breath in that room of yours, right?" He speaks as her pulse stutters. She wonders, as she suddenly took a minute to search for words.

"Yes." She answered, with repulse trailing along. She could practically sense the judgement he radiated. At least thats what she assumed. With him it was always hard to tell.