Silver and Gold // Dramione

Life of Secrets

6th Year, January 1st

Hermione kicked in her sleep.

At first Draco thought she was having a nightmare and had tried to wake her up. Grabbing her by her shoulders and shaking her lightly did nothing, she kept sleeping soundly, kicking every so often. She did it again a few minutes later, nearly kicking him in the balls. He could have sworn there was a pained expression on her face and that time he forced her to wake up.

"Granger..." Draco whispered, once again tugging at her shoulders. His left hand placed firmly on her collarbone, squeezing her lightly and shaking here torso, his right hand brushed a stray curl off her forehead. She wasn't sweating, that was a good sign.

Hermione stirred slightly, rolling her shoulders and trying to shrug his grip off of her. Despite finding the action rather endearing, he was overwhelmed with the worry that she was having a nightmare and experiencing a possible fear she couldn't get out of on her own. The image of her parents went thought his mind, the only nightmare she ever had.

Draco only squeezed her shoulder harder, shaking her more aggressively. Her eyebrows were still pinched in pain and her hands were gripping the quilt with fury. Draco shook her desperately.

"Granger..." even with his voice raised a little, nothing.

"Hermione" He tried. The hand that had used her curls from her face came to cradle her cheek. His warm palm cupping her cold face delicately, careful not to jerk her up. Waking her slowly would ensure that whatever nightmare she was having, she wouldn't think it was happening in real time. He wasn't sure he could stomach it if she woke up and through he was hurting her.

Hermione stirred again, pressing her cheek further into his palm. Her legs twitched beneath the emerald green quilt of his bed. Draco wasn't entirely sure how they ended up in his room, he could feel the brush of his boxers against his skin and Hermione was wearing his Quidditch jumper from fifth year - they were clothed then, or partially at least. He surmised they left the shower and settled into bed for the rest of the day, at some point dressing and dozing off against each other.

"Hmmm?" Hermione grumbled, turning over so that her head was nestled in his palm and her forehead was resting on his shoulder.

Draco couldn't help himself. He shrunk into her body as it curled beside him, his arm instinctively wrapped around her waist holding her against him. He dropped a chaste kiss to her forehead, cranking his neck in an awkward and slightly painful position in order to reach where her head was on his shoulder. He didn't care: Hermione was sleeping - sort of- in his bed and cuddled up to him like in his dreams.

But she was kicking and thrashing and he feared the worst, the nightmares she had started to shake off from earlier in the fall were returning. Now he was there. Now he could help.

Draco felt Hermione huff out a large puff of air. It ticked the bare skin where her head lay, creating gooseflesh where her breath reached. Hermione's head turned a few times against him, waking herself up after his command.

"Hermione... you were kicking. I thought you were having a nightmere" He turned her carefully, rotating her by his grip on her waist so that he could look at her face. The pinch her brow was gone and her lips were pursued tightly. Eyes open, strange back at him with the faintest glimpse of a smirk on her features. He gave her a confused look, and she giggled softly, like a song in his ears that echoed in the dark bedroom.

"What?" he asked breathing heavily, confused by her soft laugh in his ear. Hermione rolled away from him and he mourned the feeling of her pressed again his side, comfortable and solid. She was still laughing slightly when she pressed her face into the pillow to muffle her noise, a strangled sort of noise came from her then - only spurring his confusion more. What was so funny?