And Hell Followed With Him

"Harry what's wrong?" asked Hermione as she rushed into the room, quickly followed by her parents.

"Just a bed dream, it's nothing." Hermione's expression changed from worry to annoyance at the patently false answer.

"'Nothing' doesn't wake up the whole house and probably half the village. Now will you please stop lying and tell me the truth?" her voice was soft but with enough steel showing through to tell him that things could get nasty if he kept lying. Seeing that Harry was ok, Hermione's parents went back to bed and left there daughter to handle her obviously distressed friend.

He sighed and all the life seemed to drain from him. He was tired of hiding the truth, but he knew he had to. How could he tell her he was like this because he kept dreaming about her death? He looked up and saw the worry and fear in Hermione's eyes, and knowing he was the cause of it was too much to bear. Even if he could not get better and be happy, then at the very least he could try to take away her fear.

"It was a nightmare. I was back doing the third task, but instead of seeing Cedric, you were in the maze with me. You touched the cup before I could stop you. I'm sure you can guess the rest."

Even though it seemed impossible, she thought that he looked even worse after talking to her than he had when the fear was fresh.

"I take it this is why you want to make a sleeping potion?" asked Hermione in soft tone, holding Harry's hand.

Harry simply nodded. He felt ashamed of having to use potions to solve his problems.

"It's okay. I would have turned to magic long before now. I wouldn't have been able to handle it," said Hermione as if she had been reading his mind, "but you could have told me the truth. I could have helped you. Not talking about something only increases your fear over it."

Harry smiled a little at Hermione's unconscious echoing of Dumbledore's words.

"I know I should have talked to you or Ron about things..." he trailed off searching for the right words to express him self. "I guess I was just scared about how you would both react. I know that's not a good excuse, but it's the best I have."

Hermione understood. Even after everything they had been through, and how close they'd become, she knew there were things Harry was still reluctant to talk about.

"I'll make a deal with you. We will make enough sleeping potion for the week, but you need to tell me about your dreams. We'll make the fear go away together, okay?" asked Hermione, her tone still soft and understanding.

Harry simply nodded his head, not trusting himself to speak. He wasn't sure what he'd done to deserve such good friends, but he didn't want to talk and risk Hermione hearing just how much what she said meant to him. She was too intelligent, and would definitely figure out how he felt about her. Knowing how caring she was, it would hurt her a lot to have to turn him down. He did not want to feel that pain, and he did not want to cause Hermione any either.

"Now, will you tell me about last night? If it's too personal then its okay." she smiled, but he could still sense her concern. He again resolved to at least take away her fear. He just prayed he did not add to it.

"It's not pretty. If you want me to stop just say." Hermione just nodded. It took him a little while to get started. The images were unpleasant, and the thought of adding to Hermione's pain was making him feel sick, but he had to do this. Once started, he did not falter as he first described the scene on the street, and then what he had seen at the house.

"And the voice you heard it was His voice?" asked Hermione after he had finished.

"Yes, but my scar is not hurting, so I don't think it has anything to do with him." Harry was sure he knew the reason for the nightmares. He was punishing him self for causing Cedric's death, and what better way than to see his friends and the person he cared most for dead. He did not know if what he felt for Hermione was love, but it was beyond friendship, and was definitely not brotherly.

"It's guilt. You still blame your self. You know it wasn't your fault, because if it was your fault, that would mean Crouch, Pettigrew and Voldemort were innocent, and not even Malfoy is stupid enough to think that!" They had been through all the arguments on the Express, and then afterwards by letter. She had thought he had accepted that it was not his fault.

"I know that here," he said lightly tapping his head, "but not here." tapping his chest.

"It's okay Harry," said Hermione as she pulled him in to a hug. "Now I think you should try to sleep," she said as she pulled away but still holding on to his had.

"You're right. I'll try not to wake you up," Harry slurred his last few words as he snuggled into his pillow.

"Wake me anytime you need me," said Hermione in a voice that was barely more than a whisper as she softly kissed his cheek and then padded pack to her own room. As sleep claimed him for it's self, all Harry could think about was how soft her lips had been and how he wished it could have meant more to her than simply comforting a friend.

~ ~ ~

The moon hung in the sky casting its light throughout the room. He looked so different in sleep. She had always imagined he would move about a lot but he barely even snored. Hermione didn't know if that was because the potion pulled him so deeply into sleep or if it was normal for him. She sat on the desk, her dressing gown wrapped around her to keep out the cold, watching Harry and letting her mind wander.

The first night he had drunk the potion, she had stayed to watch over him in case it didn't work. She had rationalized it by telling herself he would need a friend if the nightmares attacked. That is what she told her self the first night. It was now a week later, and this would be the last night he would take the potion.

Every night she meant to go to bed but after a few hours of sleep, she would wake up and have to go and check on him. It was like what Harry had said that night. She knew he was okay, but until she saw it for her self, her heart would refuse to believe it.

Hermione knew that it was her feelings for Harry that kept dragging her back here every night. It was that dammed tournament. It had forced her to confront just how much she liked Harry. It was the night after the first task. She saw her face in a mirror all blotchy with fading marks from her fingernails. That is when she understood that her fear came from a place in her heart that was deeper than friendship.

As the sun light leaked into the room, Hermione knew she had to leave or answer some very awkward questions such as 'What are you doing in Harry's room at five in the morning?' Now it was time to get a few more hours sleep so no one would find out about her all-night vigils. Her sleep would be short but peaceful knowing her friend was okay.

~ ~ ~

He lay on the ground simply looking at the stars. He had forgotten how beautiful the night sky was. Years of astronomy lessons had changed the sky from a thing of awe to a thing to be studied and understood. Hermione lay beside him, and even though he had only been here a week spending time in the garden watching the stars had quickly became a fixture of their days.

Sometimes they talked, other times they just sat in silence. These were the best and worst times for Harry because he enjoyed spending the time with Hermione, but she looked so beautiful that the urge to kiss her was almost overwhelming. Even in their first year, he had noticed how the moonlight made her glow, as if she had been born to walk on a different world from mere mortals like him. Even after seeing it a hundred times, he would never get tired of seeing her like this.

"Are you ready for tonight?" asked Hermione in a soft tone. Harry could hear the bitten lip in her voice.

"Yeah. I'm not losing my perfect record," said Harry referring to the nightly game of darts against Mr. Granger.

"That's not what I mean and you know it."

"Do you believe in me?" asked Harry as he turned to look at her.

"Of course." no hesitation marked her reply.

"Then I'm ready," as he looked into her deep brown eyes the desire to kiss her came over him. He stood up breaking the moment. "Come on. We better get inside or your mum will give us another lecture on catching colds." Then, without even thinking, he reached out his hand to help her up. Hermione took his hand and neither let go until they were back in the house.

"There you are," said Mrs. Granger, smiling warmly at them. She had noticed that they stopped holding hands as they walked in to the living room, but they stood close enough to each other that their hands were brushing against each other. "Hope you're ready for the game?" she asked Harry. "Chris has been going on about titanium shafts all day."

After his defeat the night before, Mr. Granger had declared that he needed new darts because the ones at the house were not the right weight.

"Hermione, have you actually told your dad what it is a seeker does?" asked Harry. After catching the snitch from a fifty-foot dive with only one hand on the broom, darts was easy. He still had trouble hitting the double to finish, but most of his darts landed in the twenty and two days before he had gotten his first 180.

"It might have slipped my mind," said Hermione with a sly grin.

"Okay people. Prepare to be amazed and stunned by the quality of play tonight," said Mr. Granger as he walked in the room.

"We always are dear. Harry's such a good player," said Mrs. Granger with a huge smile for her husband.

"Thanks for that vote of confidence darling," he said with a matching grin.

The game lasted longer than usual. Harry took the first leg with a seventy-point lead but in the second leg, he could not get the double one while Mr. Granger got his double fifteen with his first dart, making it one all. Harry won the deciding leg with a narrow ten-point lead.

"Harry, are you any good at cards?" asked Mr. Granger

"I'm OK, but I've only ever played exploding snap."

"Well, I'll teach you a new game. It's called Poker,"

Hermione and Mrs. Granger were dragged into the game, and when everyone went to bed a few hours later, Harry looked at his winnings; six digestives, three custard creams, and a jammy dodger.

"Night Hedwig," said Harry as he gave her a treat. She was staying in the living room because the window could be left open a little so that she could come and go as she pleased. Now it was time to sleep, and he could do it, he knew he could.

~ ~ ~

Once more, she sat watching him. The moon filling the room with silver light. She had not even tried to sleep tonight, just waited until everybody was asleep, and crept into Harry's room. He looked so small and fragile that her usual perch on the desk was just too far away from him, so she took a corner of the bed. Time passed, and it might have been hours or minutes, but he begun to move and mutter. She heard the word 'Voldemort'; the nightmares were back. Gently so as not to wake him, she took his hand and started to whisper to him.

"It's okay. I'm hear for you Harry. I believe in you. You are stronger than this. I know you can beat this," said Hermione her mouth barley an inch from his ear.

"No!" the word escaped Harry's mouth along with a grinding of teeth, his eyes were closed; he was still asleep.

She didn't knew what to do so she kept talking about how much she cared for him, about how happy she was that he was here, listing every thing about him that made her care and finally every happy memory she had of him. At some point Harry had passed into a peaceful sleep, but she kept on talking because it seemed like the right thing to do.

~ ~ ~

The light from the golden cage filled the night, and for the second time in his life, he was fighting Voldemort. He concentrated on sending the beads back along the connection. He could win. He would win. They touched Voldemort's wand and ghostly shapes begun to come out of it. However, it was not Cedric, the old man or his parents, but Hermione, then Ron, Ginny, the twins, Mr. & Mrs. Granger, Dumbledore, Mr. & Mrs. Weasley and then finally his parents.

They turned to look at him. The phoenix song died, and their chorus of hate began. He could not hear the words, but there meaning was clear. They were dead because of him. Their pain and blood was on his hands. The world would be better without him. Then a small voice spoke, it was almost drowned out by the yells of rage and hate but it filled the same place in his heart the phoenix had.

"It's okay. I am here for you Harry. I believe in you. Your stronger than this I know you can beat this." Hermione's voice was soft and gentle but carried to his ears and drowned out the hate.

He looked up and saw Voldemort, a smile twisting his lipless face.

"No!" the word rang through the graveyard, the shades fell silent and all that could be heard was Hermione's voice, still soft and encouraging him, then the scene shifted.

He was standing in... blackness. There was no other word for it. Voldemort was standing in front of him, the slow clapping of his hands the only sound. Hermione's voice was gone and he missed it like oxygen.

"Well done Harry. Not many people have the strength of will to overcome the hatred of those they love. I underestimated you before. The power within you; along with that will. You could go far Harry, but I wonder. Was that strength yours, or hers." Voldemort waved his arm and an image of Hermione appeared. "So, Harry, what's her life worth to you?" Then he was gone and all he could hear was Hermione's voice, and the blackness became stars and she was there on the ground watching the sky. He lay down with her and for a short time, he was happy.

~ ~ ~

The next day as he was eating breakfast with Hermione, her parents were rushing about trying to get ready because they were all going shopping.

Harry looked around making sure that they were alone.

"Thank you for being there for me last night," he said looking into her eyes.

"I'm always there for you Harry, always," as she stood to leave she held out her hand across the table he took it as they walked out to the car hand in hand, neither of them would have stopped smiling even if the could have.