𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐱𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧

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• and when the seasons change •

★ ★ ★

Harry awoke sharply in the middle of the night, small sweat drops fastened to his forehead. He shakily exhaled, unwrapping himself from the brunette's grip; she seemed to be peacefully asleep herself. His eyes stayed glued to her for a brief second, before he got up, walking towards the large glass windows— but Harry thought they looked more like walls made entirely of glass.

Sloppily, he wiped his forearm across his forehead, collecting all the sweat on his shirt sleeve. Harry sighed, his eyes closing softly as he paced, calming down. He'd had yet another nightmare; although this had been extremely common since the end of his fifth year.

"I can't—" he exhaled, his hands brushing his wispy bangs away from his face. "I can't let her go back there, not again."

His eyes drifted towards Hermione, who was still fast asleep, her soft snores coming out as a faint 'purring' sound. Harry smiled, feeling a tad bit better, and for a second, the thoughts of his nightmare disappeared. After another minute in thought, he sat down on the couch beside the brunette, resting his head softly against her shoulder; it felt like home.

For now, he didn't have to worry about Dumbledore's words. He didn't even have to focus on the small, lemon candies concealed in Hermione's pocket. He had her, and for now, that was all Harry needed.

The pace of his breathing slowed as he found himself in a state of serenity beside her. Harry lightly chuckled; he had forgotten what true happiness felt like, and was even more astonished that he could find it in such a dark time. His gaze fell towards Hermione's open hand, taking it in his own, gentle grip. Harry seemed to adore the way her hand fit in his.

Sighing again, he closed his emerald eyes, his fingers drawing small shapes against the back of her hand. It was quite fascinating to him honestly, how smooth her skin felt against his, and this of all things eased every remaining nerve that Harry had.

Minutes passed — truth be told, Harry lost track — and Hermione began to stir, groggily lifting her head off the couch. The raven-haired boy noticed that her hair had grown tremendously in size, frizzing up. He quietly snickered, letting go of her hand, and lifting his head off her shoulder.

"Good morning," she yawned, looking awfully cheerful.

"Morning—" he answered briefly, planting an eager kiss against her forehead. Her cheeks flushed.

"How did you sleep? Alright?" Hermione pressed, growing worried. Harry didn't know how, but she always seemed to sense when he was off.

"At first—" he muttered, stopping suddenly as if he was debating about mentioning his nightmare.

"At first?" the brunette questioned, her eyes clouding with confusion.

"I had a nightmare," Harry's said, his voice barely audible.

"Again? Oh, Harry—" The raven-haired boy was about to interrupt her, when suddenly, he saw a blur of golden curls.

Hermione's arms wrapped tightly around his torso, as she pulled his body closer to hers. Harry felt significant in her arms, but what bugged him the most, was that he couldn't seem to figure out why. He snaked his arms tightly around her torso, resting his head in the crook of her neck.

"Shhh—" she cooed, "—I've got you."

Harry could feel his eyes watering, making him feel vulnerable again; but frankly, he had stopped caring and felt much too comfortable around Hermione anyway. He sniffled, allowing the tears to stream down his cheeks, falling onto the brunette's collared shirt.

"It's alright, I'm here..." Harry heard her whisper multiple times, gingerly rubbing circles on his back.

"I—" He choked out between tears, but soon gave up, for every time he tried to speak, his sniffles kept him from forming proper sentences.

Hermione faintly hummed, and all Harry could seem to do, was focus on the sweet noise coming from her lips. She was ethereal, and everything she did, he found  himself marveling at. Hesitantly, the raven-haired boy pulled away, his arms trailing up to cup her cheeks. He calmed his sniffling, a smile forming on his slightly chapped lips.

"Thank you—" Harry murmured, and for some reason, the curly-headed girl could've sworn she'd saw him open his mouth to say something else.

"Of course, I'll always be here..." she offered him a genuine smile, planting a feathery kiss against his cheek, barely missing his lips.

Harry felt his skin tingle at her touch. He breathed in once more, gathering the courage he lacked before. His thumb brushed against the side of her face, biting back a smile as he felt her nuzzle her face closer to his hand.

"Hermione?" he gulped.

"Mhm—?" Hermione mumbled, snapping out of her prolonged daze.

She looked softly into his eyes, and Harry felt his heart swell. He licked his lips softly, gulping as he nervously opened his mouth to speak. "I love you..."

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