Chapter Text
It had been of the more terrifying ones, disjointed and razor sharp, full of running and screaming and the all too familiar sense that it was too late. She surfaced from it like a swimmer desperate to keep their head above water, breathing so hard that it shook the very bones in her body, until the warmth beside her brought her down to the present.
Harry.
Hermione became aware of him before she could open her eyes. She vaguely registered the feeling of him drawing the blankets over their bodies, and the last remnants of panic left her system from the simple and grounding reality of having him next to her.
She allowed herself a moment to just linger there, not awake, but not fully asleep either, and savoured the comfort of knowing she wasn’t alone.
Sleep shortly beckoned her away after that.
———
Her eyes opened some hours later from sunlight bursting through her eyelids. The sun had seemingly been up for a while, judging from the brilliance of its golden light, but the witch couldn’t find it in herself to care. Not today. Perhaps the world could wait a little longer just this once.
A refreshing sense of peace washed over Hermione as she shut her eyes and prepared to go back to sleep. Yes, the world could and certainly would wait a little bit longer for her today.
Then Harry began to stir.
Hermione felt the bed shift under her from Harry's weight being lifted off of it. Of course, he’d choose to wake up right after she’d decided to sleep in a little more. Not that it was a bad thing for him to do so, obviously. It was just that she didn’t appreciate the… disruption.
She certainly knew he didn’t have to stay in bed with her just because she wanted to sleep in, and it wasn’t like she couldn’t do so without him anyway. Things were certainly a lot more… calm… when he was with her, but that wasn’t anything to worry about.
It was nothing. That was what she told herself. This was normal. Harry had things to do. Maybe he was hungry. Or maybe… she didn’t know. All she knew was that she was being ridiculous for noticing his impending departure from her room so keenly.
And yet, when she finally opened her eyes to see him sitting on the edge of the bed, something in her chest pulled taut and left an unbidden tension she couldn’t reason away.
He reached for his glasses on her nightstand to slide them onto his face before rising to his feet, quietly reminding her that he was only wearing a pair of sleep shorts. She dutifully looked away from him as he began to move away from the bed, away from her.
“Hermione?” Harry called, startling her into turning back towards him. “Did I wake you?”
A little smile pulled at her lips. That was such a Harry question to ask. Only he would be concerned that he’d taken away her sleep because he’d woken up like normal. She had to shake her head at him, both out of fondness as well as to answer him.
“No, I was awake already,” Hermione told him afterwards.
“You had another nightmare?” He queried with concern evident in his countenance.
She was quick to deny. “No, I didn’t. I slept… well… after you came.”
Harry breathed a sigh of relief in return before an all too annoyed expression graced his features. “I’m glad, but I’ve got to leave now. I’ve got practice.”
Right. Quidditch. She’d forgotten Saturdays were practice days.
He spoke up again before she could acknowledge him in return. “You’re sure you’re alright?”
The witch nodded again. She was fine, for the most part at least. It was hard to be completely fine these days. Regardless though, she couldn’t let Harry shirk his commitments and responsibilities for her.
“Harry,” she began, pacing herself slightly with a soft breath thereafter.
“Yeah?” He stood still in front of her as his annoyance switched back to concern for the moment.
“I’m okay, and you need to go to practice. Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine.”
That made him frown. The nightmares took a lot out of them, that much was true. She wasn’t the only one who had them. He did too. And obviously, he’d know as well as she did that it was difficult to recover from them unless they were with each other.
“You still barely slept,” Harry said through a tight frown.
“I did sleep. Eventually. Because you came,” Hermione added the last bit in a low breath. Still not seeing any shift in his demeanour, she continued, “And I’ll go back to sleep once you leave for practice.”
“Are you sure? I don’t like leaving you like this,” he admitted. There was more than a note of irritation in his voice, but it wasn’t at her. It was towards the situation itself. Towards the fact that life still beckoned him elsewhere when he wanted to be somewhere else.
Hermione pushed herself up on one elbow. “I’ll go back to sleep. It’s much better when I sleep in the daytime. Honestly. I won’t have you missing practice because of me, Harry James.”
Again, he looked torn. Frustrated and annoyed while conceding to himself that he did have responsibilities that couldn’t be ignored so easily.
“Promise you’ll be alright.”
“I promise.”
Finally, he gave her a reluctant nod. “I’ll send one of the girls up with breakfast for you.”
She smiled fondly. “You don’t have to—”
“I do,” he replied in a tone that left her no room for argument. “This won’t take long.”
As he began to move to the door joining their Head’s dorms together, he glanced back at her. “Just… try and get some more sleep, yeah?”
“I will.”
He was out of her room a short moment later with the door clicking shut behind him, her eyes unwittingly watching his every move. The room fell into an almost deafening silence afterwards.
Hermione fell back against her pillows, heart doing something distinctly frustrating while her mind stubbornly refused to keep up.
Though she had maneuvered through it well enough, the fact remained that this was a new development in her relationship with Harry.
Not the nightmares. Not the bed sharing.
No, it was the way everything around it had shifted. Something felt misaligned now, subtly so as though it'd moved when she hadn’t been looking.
Hermione stared at the ceiling, unsettled by that thought as well as the muted certainty that it was becoming more difficult to pretend she didn’t notice it with each passing day.
———
Hermione wasn’t surprised when she eventually made it down to her shared common room with Harry to find a sizeable tray of breakfast waiting for her on the coffee table.
One thing about her best friend, there was not a force in the world that could stop him once he put his mind to something. It was both an endearing and sometimes frustrating quality of his. Right now though, it was definitely more of the former.
The witch sat down on the comfy sofa before taking stock of what he’d sent for her. Toast, some fruit, a decent helping of scrambled eggs, and tea. Simple. Thoughtful. The two words that most defined the Harry no one else but his close friends got to see.
She ate slowly, more out of habit than hunger, and let the stillness of the room settle around her. Without Harry, everything felt a little… different. Not in the sense that the space was empty, but more like it was altered. Like the lack of his presence had shifted everything off-kilter.
That was the problem right there.
Things had become too easy. Too natural. It had become far too effortless for her to wake up beside him, as though it was a routine that’d been established for years. She’d gotten used to not even batting an eye at the small and minute ways he looked after, at how she’d consistently let the nights blur into mornings without stopping to question what it all added up to.
Nightmares were enough of a reason, yes. Comfort as well. Reasons she could justify, practicalities that could be explained.
But Hermione had promised herself at the turn of the new year, quietly and sensibly, that she wouldn’t let it keep happening unchecked. She wouldn’t allow herself to get so used to Harry always being there for her that she’d begin to expect it. Or worse, begin to hope for something that very likely would never be offered.
She sipped her tea after exhaling a long breath, and let the warmth of it offer what little comfort it could as she reasoned with herself. Drawing that line between her and Harry was the right thing to do. It was sensible. Necessary, even. She’d still be his closest friend, but she had to be more careful with him now.
That last thought settled uneasily in her chest.
The witch pushed it aside though, reaching for another piece of fruit instead, and resolved to think more about everything after she was done eating and Harry returned from practice. After everything felt a little less… stifling.
———
Harry returned not long after she’d cleared out the breakfast he’d gotten her. It was just after lunchtime when the door to their common room swung open to permit his entry. Hermione kept her focus on her transfiguration textbook as he padded in behind her.
“Good, you finished everything,” he commented once he’d gotten around the sofa. The smile on his face could be heard in his voice.
She turned to look at him, reciprocating his smile more out of reflex than anything, and nodded. “Thank you,” she felt the need to say.
He waved her off right away. “Had a feeling you wouldn’t want to go down to the Great Hall.”
“I didn’t,” the witch quietly agreed before turning back to focus on her book.
“Right,” he replied. “Well, I’m going to go change into something a little more comfortable.”
His soft footsteps slowly faded out of earshot afterwards while she purposefully kept her eyes away from him. Gods, she hoped he didn’t notice how… short… she’d been with him. It wasn’t her intention to suddenly become so frigid.
Gnashing her teeth, Hermione closed her book and leaned back into the couch. She’d greatly underestimated how hard it would be to keep things as they were, to be just Hermione and Harry, without letting it become anything else.
The goal was to be more careful with their friendship, not end it completely. So far, she had failed miserably at accomplishing that. The very last thing she wanted to do was make Harry feel as though she didn’t value him.
She needed to tighten things up quickly.
Before she could get lost in every possible solution to mend things, however, Harry came back downstairs. Her attention was immediately occupied by him and the cool, easy confidence he’d been walking with since their trek to Australia last year.
He plopped down next to her on the sofa with a sigh, moving to stretch his arms over his head only to stiffen up and wince as he did so. Hermione was on alert in an instant after that.
“What happened?” She demanded, tone making it clear that he couldn’t brush her off.
A shrug was his answer as he followed her gaze to his side. “Nothing. Just took a nasty hit from a bludger. It’s fine.”
“It is not fine,” she was already closing the distance between them, “lift your shirt.”
Harry cocked his eyebrow at her. “What?”
“Lift your shirt, I want to see where you got hit.”
No response came from him save for an exasperated sigh and shake of his head before he obliged her. Her fingers were light but certain as they lightly traced the angry purple bruise adorning his rib cage. It was only after she felt him tense that she realised she’d gotten way too close to him.
She pulled back at once, heart unhelpfully jolting as she did so.
“Did you go to—” Hermione went to ask.
“Madame Pomfrey? Yeah, I did. Like I said, it’s nothing. Doesn’t hurt, just a little tender,” Harry cut in with an all too fond smile plastered across his face.
The witch only nodded in return. It took everything in her not to huff at how… blasé… he was about his most recent injury, but her restraint was all for naught. It was evident from the expression he gave her that she’d done a poor job of hiding her frustration.
“You worry too much,” he told her in a voice that she couldn’t quite read.
“Someone should,” she found herself replying automatically before returning her attention to the textbook laying on the table.
“But it doesn’t have to be you all the time.”
Hermione was ready to retort that she would always worry too much when it came to him, but refrained from doing so at the last moment. Somehow, she knew saying that would be antithetical to her decision to be a lot more careful about their friendship.
An awkward silence passed between them after her lack of response, and she felt the tension settle thickly over them like a blanket. Crookshanks thankfully chose that moment to make his way down from her room. Hermione had never been so thankful for his presence than she was at that moment.
She pretended not to notice his appearance at first, instead letting Harry be the one to point it out just so his attention could be diverted from her. Then, she was taken completely off guard by what the ginger half-kneazle did next.
Crookshanks appraised them for a moment as he stood a few feet away from their couch before easily moving towards Harry without even batting an eye at her. For his part, her best friend was mildly surprised at that motion as well.
Nevertheless, the little creature sniffed Harry once and then hopped up to settle himself squarely across the wizard’s lap as though it was his throne. Not only that, but the damn thing had the audacity to let out a contented purr as well.
“That’s new,” Harry dumbly noted, shooting her a quick glance. “Guess he’s finally warmed up to me after five years.”
Hermione could only stare as her best friend gently petted her feisty companion.
Crooks had never done that. Not unprompted at least. And certainly not with anyone else.
“He doesn’t do that,” she attempted to explain rather quickly.
Harry only grinned. That damn lopsided grin that was a signature of his. “He does now.”
For some reason she couldn’t quite place, Hermione felt irritation prickle underneath her skin. She opened her book to try to take her mind off of it.
“I’ve got to say, mate,” Harry began to tell Crookshanks while gently scratching underneath his ear. “You looked pretty spry jumping onto my lap like that. Can’t believe your mum ever called you lazy.”
Hermione gasped in both shock and affrontement, and turned to glare at her best friend only to find him still wearing that stupid grin. All of her previous irritation suddenly vanished like it’d never been there in the first place.
“He’s lying, Crooks, I’ve never said that,” she found herself playfully protesting.
The half-kneazle paid her no mind as he lavished in the attention Harry was giving him. She huffed at that, again in humour.
“I don’t think he believes you,” Harry quipped at her before turning his attention back to her pet. “Don’t worry, mate, I don’t think you’re lazy at all. I’ve seen you hunt rats before.”
Hermione swatted him on the shoulder in return. “Typical of you to turn my little Crookshanks against me.”
He only chuckled at her after that. She shot him a mock, but couldn’t hide the slight smile on the corner of her lips. They settled down afterwards, Crookshanks still lounging across Harry’s lap, as the slight tension between them all but evaporated.