Suppression

The Morning After

Hermione woke first and tried to remember just what happened last night. Her pillow was apparently warm, hard, and occasionally moving. The girl opened her eyes, squinting to bring the world into view, before realizing she was in the guest bedroom. If she was in there, then that meant her very warm pillow was Harry. She narrowly managed to contain her shriek of surprise before attempting to leave the bed only to find two pairs of strong arms wrapped around her back, forcing her to lay against him. She chanced a look up to see if he was awake and sighed in relief when he looked to be completely asleep. Despite the unique situation, Hermione found she was rather comfortable against Harry's chest and laid her head against his heart, letting the rhythmic beating of it lull her back to sleep.

Harry awoke hours later and made to get up only to feel a gentle weight on his chest. He looked down and spotted the blurry mass of curls that lay close to his heart before the memories of the last night came rushing back to him. While he felt guilty for waking Hermione and her parents from their sleep, he was comforted by the fact that they weren't angry at him. He let out a wide yawn and reached for his glasses, carefully extricating his arm from around Hermione's back so as to not wake her.

Once his glasses were on his face, Harry stared down at the beautiful mass of curls that covered his entire upper body and listened as Hermione softly breathed in her sleep. What he wouldn't give to wake up like this every morning, without the nightmares of course. His mind told him not to, but the boy dropped a kiss onto her head and looped his arms around her.

Unbeknownst to Harry, Hermione had woken up shortly after he did but was comfortable enough in her position to not do anything. When his arm moved from her back, she almost alerted him to her wakefulness. Her mind, however, alerted her that the moment would end once she did so. When she felt Harry kiss the top of her head and loop his arms around her, she smiled against his chest before finally deciding to let him know she was awake. "Morning," she lazily greeted as she looked up from her spot on his chest.

Harry was stunned momentarily and tried to let go of her only for Hermione to squirm her way back into his chest, commanding him to keep her in his arms. He was all too happy to acquiesce. "Morning," he replied, a sleepy grin on his face.

Hermione reached up to sweep the fringe away from Harry's scar, never breaking eye contact from him, and let her eyes water at the pulsing red scar that had bits of dried blood on it.

"Hey, hey, hey, don't cry," Harry brought one of his hands up to wipe her tears, "it's fine now." He wiped away her tears before shooting her a weak smile. In truth, the scar was still aching but the pain was dissipating with each passing second. That, however, was the least of his concerns as Hermione kept tearing up.

"I'm so worried for you," Hermione cried as she devolved into a full blown sob. She ran her fingers on his scar and cursed the man that gave him it.

"It's fine now," Harry stubbornly responded. He felt guilty for making her worry, for making her weep for him. She deserved a full and happy life, not one where she needed to shed tears for someone like him.

"IT IS NOT FINE," Hermione shrieked as she burrowed herself back into his chest. "Every time you have a nightmare, you wake up screaming bloody murder and covered in blood." Her body shuddered against him before her own arms wrapped around his neck as her tears fell against his body. "It's not fair. Why does it have to be you?" she brokenly asked him.

Harry opened his mouth to respond but found nothing to say. He honestly had no clue as to why it had to be him. What could he even say to her? He decided to try to speak with actions instead of words, hoping to calm her down as he did so.

Hermione kept on weeping until Harry pulled her chin up, forcing her to stare at his face, before he planted his lips on her forehead. It was unexpected but not unwelcome and it served to calm her down immediately. A giddy smile adorned her face after the fact.

"Like I said," Harry was now stroking her hair, "it's fine now."

The witch harrumphed at him but made no move to leave the embrace as she scooted herself back into him. The deep laugh that rumbled through his chest at this, she thought, was the most wonderful sound in the world.

All too soon, the door to Harry's room cracked open to reveal Dan and Emma. Both parents wore fond looks on their faces at the teens and greeted them both.

"My boy, I hope you're feeling better," Dan told Harry with a friendly look.

"Loads, sir, thanks to Hermione," Harry truthfully replied.

"And Hermione, dear, how are you feeling?" Emma asked from beside her husband.

"I'm fine, mummy." Hermione's small muffled voice came from her spot against Harry's frame.

"Well, breakfast will be on the table soon," Emma told the children as she exited the room.

"I think Harry should clean himself up first, right Hermione?" Dan told his daughter before following his wife out the door and once again leaving the teens alone.

Neither of them wanted to leave their position but the world was beckoning and they knew they couldn't stay like that forever. Harry was the first to rise from his position and dropped his arms to Hermione's waist as she stood up with him, her arms still around his neck. He was suddenly aware of the implications of their actions but did not care one bit.

"I want to talk about what you saw when you're done."

Harry barely hid his cringe at her statement and stiffly nodded his affirmation. He did not want to talk about what he had seen and he knew he needed an exit strategy once he was finished with his morning routine. The less she knew, the better.

He could tell she didn't fully believe him and offered a weak grin before leaving her presence and escaping to the bathroom. He managed to make it into the room and sat down on the floor. He cursed himself for not expecting this and preparing for it ahead of time. He could have thrown up a silencing charm or he could have stayed awake the entire weekend. He failed to protect Hermione from his nightmares. She wept for him, stayed in his room with him, and slept uncomfortably for him. He was going to have to repay her in some way, shape, or form.

Hermione knew Harry like the back of her hand, so the girl wasn't surprised when he hastily retreated to the washroom once he heard she wanted to talk about his nightmare. She knew he would most likely try to avoid it entirely but he didn't know she wasn't going to let him. Harry was the bravest man she knew and any nightmare that could invoke such a fearful reaction from him was most likely dreadful beyond imagination.

Silently, the girl sat back on Harry's bed and patiently waited for his arrival. It was going to be a long and hard conversation but she needed to know what was in his mind. She needed to help him in every way possible.