I haven't written a proper Harmony in ages, so here's one for all you lovely people! This idea struck me while I was writing down the first chapter of my new WIP. It's quite a common plot, but I love it, so here's my take on it! Enjoy.

NIGHTMARE

"Crucio!"

Pain. Excruciating, blinding pain. It's unlike anything she has ever felt before. Her mouth parts in a silent scream directed towards the heavens.

Then it all stops. Is she dead yet?

She's not, because she can still feel the cold stone floor beneath her. Her eyes are half shut, but she can see a dark figure looming above her.

"Tell me the truth, Mudblood."

She can't speak anymore. She shakes her head violently, trying to get words out. But she can't.

Bellatrix's eyes glint ruthlessly. Hermione closes her own, quietly bracing herself for what is about to come.

Something brilliant and silver flashes before her, and then all she can feel is all-consuming pain, once again.

The sharp tip of Bellatrix's knife slices into her, she feels her own blood trickling down her hand. Then the Death Eater pushes it further into her skin, and everything goes black…

"NO! Please!"

A door bursts open at that very moment and someone bounds in.

"Hermione!"

"I'm not lying, please."

"Hermione, it's me, Harry." Someone shakes her shoulders.

"Hermione, love, wake up. You're home. You're safe."

Love.

Hermione sits up in her bed, feeling not the hard floor of Malfoy Manor, but the rather warm sheets of her bed. She gropes around blindly; her hand finds Harry's and she clutches it tightly. The room is silent except for the soft ticking of the clock and their breathing, hers much heavier than his.

Harry pulls her into his arms, and she lets herself cry into his chest, grabbing fistfuls of his jumper. He wraps his arms around her waist and rubs her back soothingly, all the while murmuring in her ear.

"You're OK, Hermione. Everything's OK. They're gone."

Hermione sobs harder, her tears seeping through the fabric of Harry's jumper.

"I'm so sorry you had to go through that, Hermione," Harry whispers. "But it's all over now. God, I'm so sorry."

Hermione wants to tell him it's not his fault, and all she is capable of is tightening her grip on his jumper.

Harry continues to murmur comfortingly in her ear and stroking her hair. Eventually, she lets go. Her hands slide up his chest and her fingers interlock behind his neck, her head still buried in his chest. Her sobs quieten down to soft whimpers and sniffles.

"I - I can't believe it's still affecting me so much," she says quietly, finally.

"It's OK, Hermione. You're the strongest person I know. It'll be alright. Trust me," he replies, tucking a few loose strands of her hair behind her ear.

She looks up at him, into his beautiful green eyes, and she is once again reminded of how much she loves him. He's her best friend in the world, her confidante, and over the years she's realised just exactly how important he is to her. Somewhere along the line, she fell head over heels in love with him, but does he look at her that way, the way she looks at him?

Harry is staring back at her, his eyes boring into hers. She lifts a hand to place it on his cheek, finding comfort in the slight roughness. She sighs and closes her eyes.

Her warm breath tickles Harry's neck, and he revels in the feel of her hand on his cheek. She lays her head on his shoulder and his eyes are drawn towards the long column of her neck.

She's your best friend. You're not supposed to stare at her neck, for Merlin's sake.

Harry gently touches the raised, pink scar on her neck - the one from Bellatrix's knife.

Hermione looks at him again, her teeth biting down on her bottom lip. Her thumb brushes gently across his cheekbone before she lets it fall down, back to his shoulder.

"Oh, Harry," she sighs, inhaling deeply.

Harry rubs her upper arm. "Hermione, love," he asks, "do you want to go back to sleep?"

Love. Why the heck does he keep calling her love? Doesn't he know what effect it has on her? She knows he does not mean it the way she wants him to.

"Stay with me?"

Harry does not ask her why. They've done it quite a few times before, when he's had nightmares. He nods and kisses her cheek.

"OK."

She looks at him again, he's smiling softly at her. Suddenly she is overcome with the desire to kiss him. On the mouth.

So she does.

With one hand on his cheek, she pulls his face down and brushes her lips delicately against his. Harry stiffens, but eventually brings his hands up to cup her face tenderly. She pulls back a tick to see his face. Something flickers in the green of his eyes, but she can't quite put her finger on it. Harry's glasses are adorably askew, and her fingers put them back in place.

"Hermione…"

She kisses him again, cutting him off mid-sentence.

This might just be the last time she'll ever get to do this, but she doesn't care. It's everything she's ever imagined and more. She doesn't care if he feels the same way about her. She doesn't care if he'll go running for the hills after he realises what they are doing.

But he doesn't.

When they break apart, their foreheads are resting together and their noses are touching.

Harry's eyes rove over her features and her cheeks colour under his intent gaze.

"Hermione?"

She gasps, realisation flooding her mind.

"I'm sor-"

Harry shuts her up with a finger to her lips. "Don't," he says quietly. "Don't be sorry, I'm not."

Hermione's eyes widen. "You-you're not?"

Harry shakes his head, his eyes twinkling knowingly. He reaches out to tuck another stray curl securely behind her ear.

"You're beautiful," he murmurs suddenly, holding her face in his hands. "I never thought, I thought you - never mind…" he trails off lamely.

Hermione grips his wrists. "Never mind what, Harry?"

Their eyes meet and Hermione's breath hitches in her throat at the look on his face.

"Sweet Merlin, you're just - " Harry tries to say, looking anywhere but at her. Then his eyes shoot again towards her.

"God, I love you so much," he breathes, his fingers diving into her curls and pulling her head towards him as he presses his lips to hers.

Hermione's certain her heart has stopped beating altogether, her brain is becoming fuzzier by the second and she almost resumes sobbing at the way he's kissing her.

Blasted air.

Hermione gasps when they part, her eyes shining and her cheeks flushed. Harry looks completely dazed. She giggles at his expression, even though she's got no doubt she looks exactly the same.

"I'm in love with you, Hermione. I don't know when it started, but I do. You're the first thing I think of when I wake up, and you're the last thing on my mind when I go to bed. I've never felt this way for anyone. You don't have to feel the same, though," he blurts out.

Hermione lets out a strangled sob and throws herself at him, burying her head in the crook of his neck.

"How can I ever not love you, Harry Potter?" she whispers, letting Harry wipe her cheeks with his thumb. He kisses the top of her head and grins against her wild hair when he feels her do the same against his neck.

She kisses him again, slowly and sloppily. The two break into giggles as they part, their arms around each other and everything else in the world reduced to a blur.

Hermione pulls Harry down and he kisses her forehead before covering themselves with the blanket. She snuggles into him, his arm wrapped around her and hers draped across his chest.

Nightmares and everything else faded into the background. Whatever would come, they'd face it together.

Like always.

Thanks for reading, guys!

Stay safe, and wash them hands.

Toodles :D