Just a quick note. I wrote this as Harmione, but it does not need to be read as such. Read it as you wish. Enjoy :)

Harry couldn't eat. He mindlessly stared at his food, pushing it around his plate.

He had never felt so numb.

Finally, he was led upstairs where his pajamas were laid out on a bed. With trembling hands, he quickly changed and collapsed onto the bed. With the little strength he had left, he crawled under the covers before taking off his glasses and setting them next to his bedside table.

Harry lay staring up at the ceiling. The long shadows in the room grew longer and longer as dusk set in. How could he possibly sleep after all that had just happened?

Hermione's screams echoed through his head.

The knife spinning towards them.

His eyes shot open, but they were met with silent darkness. His breath came in short gasps. He could hear only his heart beating rapidly.

"Harry," a voice whispered. He half sat up and squinted into the darkness, barely able to make out Hermione's shape through the gloom.

"Hermione."

And suddenly she was crawling into his bed, next to him. A half-sob escaped her lips and she fiercely swiped at her eyes before crawling over Harry, wedging herself between him and the wall next to the bed.

She lay on her back, chest heaving, as she sobbed silently, gasping for breath. Harry turned to her and stroked her hair soothingly. "Hermione, you're okay now."

She shook her head and curled into Harry, clinging to him. "I'm scared…" she whispered.

"You're safe with me."

He lay there holding her, remembering her tortured screams.

Dobby.

He was dead. Someone else was dead because of him. The realization cut into him like a knife. How many more people would die before this was over?

And Hermione. An image of the word carved into her skin, blood red against white, flashed through his mind and he shuddered, cringing at the horrors she had endured. The horrors they had all endured. All because of him.

The tears he had been unable to shed welled up, stinging his eyes and threatening to overflow. And then they spilled over, dripping softly into Hermione's hair.

Neither of them slept that night. They clung to each other, struggling in their own minds, until the sun finally peeked into the window, lighting the room with a soft glow.

There is a review button for a reason! Please use it! Writers love feedback on their works.

Thank you for reading. I hope you have an excellent day.

-FlatFox