InsaneJournal

Who: Harry & Ginny
What: Yay night terrors!
When: Tonight, early morning
Where: The Potter residence
Status: Thread/Completed

Ginny could hear his laughter echoing in the Chamber as she lay there. Something deep inside her wanted to get up, to run away as fast as she could, but she was unable to do so. She listened to him as he explained his plan, why he was so glad she had chosen to get rid of the diary. She had been so foolish, why didn’t she see it at the beginning? She wanted to scream, to say something biting to Tom but she was aware enough to realize that it wouldn’t make a difference.

Just as always, she could feel her arms and legs tingle, followed by a bland numbness. The feeling slowly spread throughout her body, always starting at her extremities and moving in. Pain exploded in her chest as she faintly heard Harry’s youthful voice from her first year, but the words no longer made sense to her. The pain continued to grow in her chest until--

Ginny Potter sat up in her bed in Godric’s Hollow and clutched at her chest. Her breath was heavy and labored, her skin a few shades paler than usual. She couldn’t quite catch her breath back into the proper rhythm, creating an uncomfortable feeling in her lungs. Her head pounded with pain as she realized what just occurred; she leaned forward and clutched her head in her hands, trying her best to stifle the sobs now escaping from her lips. It had been thirteen years since her first year at Hogwarts, but there were times when it felt like it was just yesterday. She hated when this happened, that Harry had to see all of this. He had so much going on himself, he didn’t need one more thing to worry about in his life.


Harry's sleep was undisturbed by dreams tonight, nightmares or otherwise. He wasn't a heavy sleeper, though, and his arm was curled loosely around Ginny's waist. When she sat up suddenly, he woke with a start, reaching instinctively for his wand. Night terrors weren't unusual, but Harry hadn't tried to break himself of the habit of arming himself immediately; better to assume that the danger was real and find out that it wasn't, than the other way around. It didn't take him long to realize that it was a bad dream, and he let go of his wand, heartbeat slowing down.

It was too late to pretend he was asleep for her sake, so he leaned in and pressed a kiss to her shoulder, unsure if she wanted anything more in the way of comfort. His eyelids were heavy, but he felt fully awake now; it was unlikely he'd get back to sleep before he was sure Ginny was alright.


Her breath hitched at the feeling of Harry’s lips on her shoulder. She let out a slow, shaky sigh as her breathing slowly returned to normal. Her chest still ached; it was a dull feeling that seemed to resonate with her each time she had one of these night terrors. Most of the time it had to do with the Battle of Hogwarts; the fighting, seeing Harry’s dead body--but it was a bit unusual to have one from the Chamber. She rubbed the tears from her eyes, feeling upset and frustrated with herself.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured softly. “I--I didn’t mean to wake you.” And while she disliked that she woke him up, there was some comfort in the knowledge that her husband was there with her. Out of everyone they knew, he was probably the only one that could relate, except for perhaps Ron or Hermione. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to talk about it, or even if he would ask (that she doubted), but she knew she was safe there with him and that was important.


"S'okay," Harry said, and cleared his throat because his voice sounded thick with sleep. He rested one hand on the bed and leaned his weight on it, his shoulder brushing hers.

No, he didn't plan on asking what the dream was about, because he didn't really need to. He couldn't know the details, of course, but he knew she was haunted by things that had happened while they were in school, just as much as he was. What he mainly needed to determine was whether she wanted him awake, for an ear to listen, for a hug, or even for tea, if it had been bad enough to merit getting out of bed. And so he asked the obvious question, just in case she wanted to give a less obvious answer. "Are you alright?"


She felt her whole body flinch at the feeling of his shoulder against hers. It was a nervous tic, but she felt a deep blush creep onto her cheeks. She let out another sigh and brushed her fingers through her hair. “I--I don’t know,” she let out a huff of frustration. Not at Harry, but at the feeling she was left with. It was nights like this where she ended up lying awake for hours, unable to sleep again. Maybe it was the fear of having another dream; all Ginny knew was that her body was officially done with sleep by this point nine times out of ten.

She readjusted her weight uncomfortably, letting her legs curl up underneath her. “I should go check on the boys,” she said absently, deciding that thinking about anything but her worries was for the best. She never dared to touch the boys after a night terror about Tom, but she wanted to see them sleeping peacefully, realizing the amount of calm and innocence they had in their lives despite the hectic pasts and presents of their parents.


Harry hadn't intended to startle her; he had sort of been considering moving closer for comforting purposes, but now that seemed like a bad idea. He didn't blame her for it, though it did make him wonder if this particular nightmare had been worse than usual. And he was unlikely to fall back asleep very easily at this point, too, because even if he wanted to let it go, his mind was likely to turn over the possibilities of what she'd been dreaming about. Even if he fell back asleep without much trouble, there was a good chance his subconscious would dredge up something to plague his sleep, now that he was thinking about the past.

Her idea, though, made him smile. He completely understood; it was indescribably comforting, to watch their children sleep. They were comforting even when they were awake, young and innocent and carefree, untouched by the horrors of the world. He wanted them to stay that way forever, though he knew they wouldn't. While they were, though, their contentedness was a balm on his soul.

One he wouldn't mind having right now, too, but he wasn't sure if she wanted him there. Seeing as how he'd done very little to help ease her mind so far, and had possibly made it feel worse, it was probably the least he could do to stay out of her way when she did what would make her feel better. But he lowered his head to her shoulder to kiss it again -- she hadn't seemed too bothered by that, at least -- and nodded. "As long as they're not having nightmares, all's right with the world," he said quietly, smiling a little.


Her eyes fluttered closed as she tried to clear her mind as much as possible. She reached a hand for Harry’s free one and gave it a tight squeeze. She smiled at his comment and nodded. She hardly doubted that James was capable of having a nightmare yet, or if he did what it could possibly be about. Their ability to sleep soundly though, helped to ease her mind.

She slowly began to move herself about. “I--I didn’t mean to--” she faltered, wondering if he would even care about an apology. They both knew too well how these things were, so she knew giving one was not necessary. But she still felt bad about things; waking him up, being so cold. It was just difficult for Ginny to be so close to someone when the image of Tom Riddle was stuck in her head. She pulled his hand up to her lips and placed a gentle kiss just below his knuckles.


"I know," Harry assured her. She hadn't meant to have the dream, hadn't meant for it to wake her with such a start, for it to wake him. He understood the desire to protect him from herself, even in a small way, but there wasn't much that could be done about it. He didn't need an apology, but he also understood that she might feel the need to apologize. He certainly felt the need to apologize more than other people needed to hear his apologies, himself.

And it wasn't like either of them were accustomed to getting a full night's sleep. The boys were comforting when their sleep was disturbed by nightmares, but their sons had done their share of waking them up at all hours, too. Harry had learned to function on very little sleep.

He glanced at the clock. If it were a few hours closer to the time they actually had to wake up, he might have suggested a cup of tea, but they didn't necessarily have to resign themselves to no more sleep tonight, not yet. "Tell you what," he said, fingers curling gently around hers. "You go and see the boys, and when you come back, I'll at least try to pretend to be sleeping as peacefully as they are. How's that sound?"


Ginny rubbed at her eyes, trying to get herself awake enough to move about their home. She nodded at his suggestion, pausing to smile at him before slipping out from under the covers and padding softly down the hallway. The boys were both sound asleep, which was amazing considering how often Albus was still waking up throughout the night. She didn’t want him to wake up at that moment, of course, because he looked so peaceful, but she had a feeling he would need feeding soon. She leaned her body weight against the door frame, watching James as he shifted around in his bed. One of his hands was tightly fisted around the blanket her mum had made for him, the other lay next to his face on his pillow.

After a few moments, Ginny let out a soft sigh. She pushed herself away from the door, pausing to stare at the boys for just a moment longer before turning and heading back down the hall toward her own room. She paused at their door, feeling her nerves finally calm enough that she could relax. She pushed the door open and gently sat back on the bed. Sure as promised, Harry was lying down, pretending to sleep. Ginny slipped back into bed, pulling the covers snugly around her. She reached a hand over and brushed his hair back behind his ear before kissing his forehead. “Thank you,” she whispered softly before curling up next to him.


Harry figured that she might find it comforting to watch him sleep, too, or at least not have to deal with him being awake. He would have actually fallen back asleep if he could have, but it wasn't coming to him. While she was gone, he lay on his back and looked up at the ceiling in the dim light, hands resting on his chest. When he heard her footsteps returning, he turned on his side and closed his eyes, breathing calm and even, and listened to her approach the bed.

Despite himself, he smiled slightly when Ginny's hand brushed his hair, and shifted to accommodate her curling against him, wrapping an arm loosely around her waist. "Welcome," he murmured back, though that gave away the ruse. Well, he hadn't opened his eyes; he was still pretending to be half-asleep. Hopefully that would be good enough.


Ginny let out a light yawn, her eyes not quite cooperating as she tried to close them. She moved a hand to his chest, lips persed. She knew that he was playing along for her sake, she just wasn’t sure if she needed to talk at that moment or not. It wouldn’t change things, it wouldn’t make the nightmares disappear. But part of her still wanted to share it with him; that’s partially what marriage was about, right? For better or for worse?

“It was Riddle,” she admitted, voice faint. She didn’t divulge, leaving it up to Harry whether they stop and have a conversation about it all or not.


"In the chamber?" Harry asked, after a moment of silently digesting that information. It was mainly the fact that she'd said Riddle instead of Voldemort that made him think that. Not many people still alive had actually encountered him as Riddle, and he had been there when it had happened to Ginny. Though, there had been more for her than just what had happened in the Chamber of Secrets, that had just been the worst of it. So far as he knew.

He opened his eyes to look at her, though he couldn't see her clearly in the dim light and without his glasses. It didn't matter; he was going to be awake and present for this conversation.


Ginny nodded, but added in a vocal “Yeah” for good measure. She let things mull over in her head for a bit before adding. “It’s like I can’t get away from it sometimes. The memory of it.” The memory of how terribly foolish she had been as a girl. She didn’t say it out loud, of course, because it was a childhood mistake and she’d grown up since then--they’d all grown up since then. Most of her memories from that year were a blur, but things with Riddle--the Chamber, especially, were still fairly clear for her. She brushed her hair back out of her face. “I can still feel what it was like--when I was lying there.”


Harry understood that. He could still recall, with astonishing clarity, the way the most horrifying moments of his life had felt; the same clear memory of good feelings were, by comparison, quite a bit harder. Why that was, he didn't know. He twined his fingers into her hair, fingertips brushing the nape of her neck.

"Maybe you shouldn't try to get away from it," he said quietly. "Some things are just going to be there, no matter how hard you try." He had gotten rid of some things; he barely remembered how it felt when his scar burned, for one thing, but that had been relatively low on the traumatic spectrum, all things considered. But there was no way for him to get over, or get away from, his emotional scars and burdens. He tried instead to accept that they were his burdens to bear, better him than anyone else. Others had their own burdens, of course, and he still wished he could help carry them, no matter how heavy his own baggage was; that wasn't possible either, and it was something else he had to try to accept, too.


She thought over his words. She knew it was the reality of things, that there would always be the bad memories in her--Riddle in the Chamber, Fred’s death, seeing Hagrid as he carried Harry’s seemingly lifeless body back from the Forbidden Forest. But surely, at some point, all the good things that had happened would overpower that. They had so much good in their lives, they had their boys and each other. She leaned in and kissed the tip of his nose, then his lips. “I suppose so. It’d just be nice if we could both get a decent night’s rest for once,” she said with a small smile. There was also a hope that as time went on, the night terrors would slow for them both.


Harry tilted his face towards hers to meet hers, returning the kiss. His eyelids were getting a bit heavy, which was a good sign; maybe he'd actually manage to get a little more sleep tonight. The amount of sleep he usually got wasn't really that bad, by his estimation; he was more often woken by the boys and Ginny than by his own nightmares, but he definitely had his share of those, too. They were less vivid than some of the dreams he'd had while Voldemort was alive, though, so he could cope. Being tormented by his own mind and memories was preferable to the alternative, by a long shot.

"It would," he agreed. He smiled slightly, and curled his arms tighter around her, lifting his head to press a kiss to her warm hair. "It'll happen. Someday soon."