The Quiet Night

A/N: Harry can't sleep, and neither can Hermione. OneShot, in fifth year.

Harry woke up with a gasp, scar burning on his forehead. Not again, he thought, pressing his face into his hands, not bloody again. Voldemort had sent him a vision of Cedric, lying spread-eagled and surprised on the cold, damp ground. Glancing around the empty common room, he realized that he had fallen asleep over his Potions book. His scar twinged, the memory of Cedric's body resurfacing. He was good at Potions… Harry thought depressingly, hand sliding through tangled black hair. "No more," he whispered, clenching his fists. "I don't want this anymore!" The last bit burst out in a near-shout, startling himself- and apparently someone else.


He looked up at the soft voice and saw Hermione, standing on the stairs with her robe wrapped around her.

"Hey 'Mione." He replied, smiling up at her. "Couldn't sleep?"

"No. I think I messed up on my Charms exam."

Harry rolled his eyes. "'Mione, you couldn't fail if you tried. Now stop fussing."

She snorted, crossing the room to sit beside him on the cushy armchair. Harry was uncomfortable aware of the way her side and arm were pressing against his. They sat in silence for a little bit, enjoying the warmth of the crackling fire and each other's company. Hermione finally broke the silence by asking, "What woke you up?"

Harry turned away. "Nothing."

"Harry James Potter, you tell me right this moment!"

Startled at the amount of force in her voice, Harry reluctantly turned around, looking at his lap. "I had a dream. Last summer, when Cedric… died. I could hear Voldemort laughing, and I couldn't do anything…my parents were screaming..." his voice broke, and Hermione wrapped her arms around him in a hug. Harry stiffened, muscles tense and trembling.

Confused, Hermione pulled away slightly. "Harry…?"

He shook his head, a bitter smile on his face. "It's not you, 'Mione. It's just, the only person who's ever hugged me is Mrs. Weasley." And she doesn't make my heart race. he added silently. A small 'oh' of understanding coming from Hermione's lips, she waited a moment, apparently thinking, before re-wrapping her arms around him. Laying her head on his shoulder, she rubbed circles on his back, making soothing noises as the dam broke and Harry cried in her arms, assuring him that she was still there.

Some time later, Harry pulled back, wiping his face with the corner of his sleeve. Giving her a watery smile, he ruffled a hand through his hair embarrassingly. "Sorry," he whispered. Returning his smile, Hermione lightly placed a kiss on his cheek, whispering, "I don't mind." Harry noticed how close they really were, and how the spot where she had kissed him burned.

The Gryffindor common room is almost never empty. The only time that someone could find a moment of privacy was in the dead of night, when all were asleep. That's why there was no one to see, save the glowing embers in the fireplace, when Harry Potter leaned forward and met the lips of Hermione Granger, or when she returned the kiss whole-heartedly.

A/N: So, there you have it. A, rather short, oneshot involving Hermione and Harry.

-If some of you think that Harry is being a bit OOC (what? Harry never cries!), he wasn't feeling all sunshine and flowers. he had just relived Cedric's death, and when Hermione hugged him, that was the straw that broke the camels back. After all, he had never been hugged before, except by Mrs. Weasley, and being hugged by your best friend's mother and the girl you maybe-kinda-sorta like are two different things.