Insomnia

Chapter 1 - 2:45 am

2:45 AM

I'm going out sleepwalking

where mute memories start talking

the boss that couldn't help but hurt you

and the pretty thing he made desert you

I'm going out now like a baby

a naive unsatisfiable baby

grabbing onto whatever's around

for the soaring high or the crushing down

with hidden cracks that don't show

but that constantly just grow

I'm looking for the man that attacked me

while everybody was laughing at me

you beat it in me that part of you

but I'm gonna split us back in two

tired of living in a cloud

if you're gonna say shit now you'll do it out loud

it's 2:45 in the morning

and I'm putting myself on warning

for waking up in an unknown place

with a recollection that's half erased

looking for somebody's arms to

wave away past harms

I'm walking out on center circle

the both of you can just fade to black

I'm walking out on center circle

been pushed away and I'll never go back

Nighttime, and Hermione found herself once more unable to sleep. Her bed was oddly uncomfortable, as though the mattress bulged wherever she chose to lie. And the heavy velvet curtains shrouding her window did little to muffle the steady, relentless rain throwing itself against the glass.

She always had problems sleeping when it rained.

Dreamless Sleep didn't work on her anymore. She'd taken so much of it in those months after the final disaster that, for it to have any affect whatsoever, she'd now have to take it in such large doses she ended up with migraines afterwards. And the rain always triggered off the dreams. His dear face, silently pleading with her to save him, while she helplessly stood by and watched from underneath that Full Body Bind as the man she loved was taken from her in a brilliant flash of green light.

Two and a half years later and it was as vivid as the night it happened. His body, unmarked, falling onto the wet cobblestones of the alley. His killer turning to her - and then the cavalry appeared, with a thousand curses from all directions aimed right at him. And as that man who had caused so much pain to the wizarding world had the life magicked out if him and fell, with the most surprised expression on his face, she could move and she held Ron's empty form and begged every god she knew to bring him back, rain falling on her face and mixing with her tears.

Witnessing your lover's death every time you slept was enough to give anyone insomnia.

Hermione looked at the clock next to her bed. 2:45 am. Far too late to call up Harry or Ginny for a chat. They had enough pain of their own.

She pulled herself out of bed, and padded towards the wardrobe. Jeans, boots and that blue jumper Molly had knitted for her during her last year at Hogwarts, an Impervious spell on them, and she was out the door of her tiny London flat, off to the only place that could make her forget for a while.