19. Chapter 19

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Draco stared at the doorway looming before him. Ever since the war had ended, he hadn't set a foot in the drawing room. He had avoided it at all costs, taking elaborate routes to avoid being within five metres of the place.

It was the place of his nightmares. He had watched people get tortured there, even massacred. Sometimes he had participated. All the death eater meetings had taken place there. That room represented his deepest regrets and his deepest fears. Every night he found himself stuck in it, trapped as his nightmares raged on. He trembled as his nightmares flashed before his eyes, the screams of the tortured, the blood of the dying, and the bones of the dead. He pulled Hermione closer to him once more.

"Umm….Draco," she squeaked. "You're suffocating me." Draco let her go a bit, but still kept her close.

"I don't understand, Draco," she said, brushing a piece of hair out of her face. "What's wrong with the drawing room?"

Draco tried to speak, but couldn't. He stared in fear at the doorway. Hermione sighed.

"Draco, you're obviously scared of this room." He nodded. He was too frightened to hide behind his pride. She sighed and gently untangled herself from his arms. He stood petrified as she turned the doorknob. Looking him straight in the eye she said, "Best way to deal with a fear is to face it head on." She opened the door and headed inside. Draco's eyes widened.

"No, Hermione!" he shouted, and without stopping to consider the consequences, he rushed into the room after her.

The room was exactly as he remembered it. There were no windows, the darkness suffocated the room. Draco couldn't breathe. The entire room was black, not a speck of light anywhere. It was just a long, dark room, really. However, for Draco, the memories and screams flashed before his eyes and rang in his ears. He saw the Dark Lord's rage as he slaughtered helpless people. He saw his crazy aunt as she tortured Hermione, the brunette withering on the floor. He felt his own hand as he tortured people at Voldemort's request. He saw their blood spill to the ground. Draco sank to the ground, clutching his knees. He was hyperventilating now.

The memories were growing more vivid. All his senses were living the past of the drawing room. He heard the screams of the tortured in his ears, he felt his wand as he crucio-ed innocents. He looked up and saw another memory coming to life. He watched in horror as Bellatrix approached Hermione, her wand held high, a curse on her lips and pure crazy in her eyes. Hermione didn't even notice, she was still gazing around the room.

"HERMIONE!" Draco screamed. Without thinking he ran forward, getting in between his aunt and Hermione. Hermione's face was shocked as Draco threw his arms around her, protecting her from harm. He pulled her close to him, not caring about personal space. His aunt was still advancing on them. Draco trembled, but knew what he had to do. He picked Hermione up, the girl was so light, and sprinted from the room. He got out of the door, Hermione protesting slightly, but he ignored her. He put Hermione on the ground, the girl staggering slightly. He bolted the door, and slid down the wall to the ground, panting, trembling, and crying completely.

"Draco," Hermione whispered softly, kneeling next to him. She looked at him, and brushed a piece of hair out of his face. His skin tingled where her fingers had grazed his skin. Looking up at her, tears streaming down his face, he felt his heart swell. She was alright. He reached up and pulled her down onto his lap, hugging her close, one hand in her hair and one on her back. Hermione tentatively put her arms around his neck, and hugged him close as well. Draco let all of his shields down, and cried into her shoulder. She whispered comforting things into his ear and rubbed his back.

After several moments, Hermione pulled back a little bit. She looked him in the eye, concern covering her face. She moved her hands across his face, brushing his hair back behind his ears, stroking his cheek lightly, brushing away his tears and finally resting her hands on both of his cheeks.

"Are you alright?" she whispered. Draco looked her in the eyes, tears still sliding down his face. His eyes trailed over her face, warm and loving. No one had looked at him like this in a long time. He felt care and love radiating from her features, washing over him, warming his soul. He had never felt like this before.

"You're alright," he whispered, a smile spreading across his face. He pulled Hermione back into a hug, his head buried in her hair.

After several more moments of just holding her, Hermione pulled back once more. She slid out of his lap and stood up, reaching her hand down to pull him up. Once they were both standing, Hermione looked at him.

"Are you still hungry?" she asked. Draco shook his head. He had lost his appetite. "Me neither," she chuckled. "Shall we head back upstairs. Draco nodded. He took her hand and once more lead her through the winding halls of the manor. Once they had arrived at their rooms, Hermione turned to Draco.

"Draco," she started hesitantly. She took a deep breath and rallied on. "What happened back there…in the drawing room? Why did you grab me and carry me from the room? You looked as though I had been in immediate danger. What happened?"

Draco looked down at Hermione. She looked exceptionally concerned, as well as slightly curious. Draco couldn't tell her though. He just couldn't. But he needed to speak.

"Memories."

That was the only answer he gave. He smiled once more at her confused face. He leant over, brushed a piece of hair out of her face, and whispered in her ear. "Goodnight Hermione." He gave her a kiss on the cheek. Without seeing her reaction, he turned on his heel, and headed into his room, closing the door softly.

For a long time, Draco just sat at the end of his bed staring at the opposite wall. The memories he had been forced to relive were eating at his brain. He had managed after the war to ignore his past, and bury it all deep down. The only time he ever thought about his horrific past was during his nightmares, where he had no escape. Today, his nightmares had materialized. He had seen Bellatrix advance on Hermione as though she was really there. But she wasn't, Draco knew that. Bellatrix had been dead for years. There was no way she had really been there. She was just a figment of Draco's mind, playing on his fears and attacking him where it hurt. It had all been so realistic. His nightmares had come to light right before his eyes. He couldn't hide from his fears anymore. It wasn't possible. Hermione was right. He had to face his fears head on. He needed to….

Just then, a bloodcurdling scream rang through the air. Draco jumped up in fear, looking wildly around his room for the source. He paused, a realization coming to pass. He had heard that scream before. Another scream rang through the air, piercing his eardrums. His blood went cold. The scream was coming from Hermione's room. He practically ripped the door off the wall.

He burst into Hermione's room, searching for her. He quickly spotted her, and his heartbeat slowed down. She was lying in bed withering around, the blankets curled around her legs. Her eyes were closed, her face fearful, her body thrashing. She was having a nightmare.

Draco walked over to the bed, and sat down. He pulled Hermione's form towards him, shaking her slightly. "Shh, Hermione, wake up," he said soothingly. Hermione's eyes shot open, gasping and stuttering as she realized what was happening.

"Oh, Draco," she cried out, pulling him towards her and bursting into tears. Draco pulled her close and muttered soothing words in her ear as the brunette sobbed her heart out. After several minutes, she pulled back and looked up at him, her eyes red and puffy and her face tear streaked.

"It was terrible!" she choked out, a sob escaping once more.

"Shh, shh," he whispered, brushing her hair out of her face. "What happened?"

Hermione sobbed some more before responding. "It was your drawing room," she cried. Draco froze. No…...

"There was a lady, she looked like a crazy prostitute to be honest. She kept shouting at me, something about a sword, and pointing her magic wand at me, shouting words. It hurt so much Draco. She was torturing me! She wouldn't stop! I couldn't answer her…it was agony! And you," at this Hermione looked back up at him, her eyes wide and fearful. "You were there. You just stood there and let her hurt me. It hurt so much!" Hermione cried. Her body was suddenly racked with uncontrollable, heart breaking sobs. "It felt so real."

Draco was frozen. He couldn't believe it. She remembered that day. The day where she was captured. She remembered it completely. Every aspect, the sword, his crazy aunt, and him, how he just stood there and did nothing. She felt the pain. Draco realized ,with a start, that the screams had sounded so familiar because he had heard them. They were the screams that she had screamed while his aunt tortured her. They were the screams that haunted his nightmares, that rang through his head whenever he thought of the olden days. Hermione had just relived the entire experience, there was no question. She had just been tortured once more. Draco hung his head in shame. He hadn't been able to save her either time.

"It's alright Hermione," he said, pulling her close, letting her stain his shirt with her tears. "It's over."

She cried into his shirt for several more minutes. After she had let all of her tears out, she let Draco hold her close. Her breathing went back to normal, and her pulse slowed.

"Are you alright now?" Draco asked.

She nodded. "Thank you," she whispered.

Draco smiled, and was standing up to leave when he felt Hermione grab his hand and pull him back. She looked up at him, her eyes wide and pleading.

"Could you stay?" she whispered, barely audible. Draco didn't even think. He sat back down on the bed, as Hermione scooted over. He brought his legs up, and slipped them under the covers. He was next to Hermione now. That wasn't enough for Draco though. He gently put his arms around Hermione and pulled her towards him, her head resting on his chest. She clutched his shirt and brought herself closer to him. "Thank you," she whispered. Draco didn't respond. He gently stroked her hair, soft and fluffy beneath his fingers. There was no response needed. They both soon fell asleep, content in each other's arms.

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