Harry had another restless night of nightmares. Like the night before, he awoke in the dead of night screaming, covered in a cold sweat. It took Mrs. Granger much longer to calm him however. He finally fell asleep in her arms after half an hour.
Mrs. Granger laid Harry on the bed to change him out of the cold and wet pajamas. She dried the sweat from his body and dressed him in another set of pajamas. Finally she tucked him back in bed and went back to bed herself.
It was Hermione who woke Harry in the morning again. Not getting anywhere near the amount of restful sleep his smaller body needed, Harry was cranky. Hermione, half asleep herself, gave Harry clothes to change into and left the room. Harry changed his clothes and walked to the bathroom before Hermione could ask the same degrading question.
The rest of the morning proceeded similarly to the previous. Harry scowled at his sippy-cup while eating breakfast, then went to play in his room, while Hermione went to hers to read. His mind ever becoming more and more like a child’s, Harry was entertained by the toys longer this morning.
Unfortunately, once he became bored, Harry’s mind shifted to his dead godfather. It was the first time he had consciously thought of Sirius since his transformation. As he dwelled on the subject Harry began to cry. His young mind sought the closest source of comfort and Harry grabbed the stuffed rabbit from his bed. He wrapped his arms around it and laid on the floor in the fetal position, crying himself to sleep.
It was in this position that Hermione found him an hour later. She had become concerned, not hearing anything from him for so long. She sat down next to him, thinking how cute he looked as a child. She put her hand on his shoulder and gently shook him awake.
Harry pulled his face away from the rabbit and Hermione saw his tear-streaked face. He moved suddenly and tightly clutched Hermione instead. Hermione hugged him back as he began to cry into her shoulder, still remembering why he had been crying. Hermione rubbed his back trying to sooth him, but Harry only clenched tighter.
After a few minutes, Hermione stood up awkwardly with Harry in her arms. She sat on his bed, waiting for Harry to fall back to sleep or loosen his grip. Her shoulder was soaked with his tears, but she did not care. Hermione knew Harry’s loss was traumatic for him, and Dumbledore’s spell was to help him deal with his emotions easier. She knew, as did Dumbledore that young children cannot bottle up their emotions like teenagers and adults can.
Harry finally relaxed his grip, falling asleep. Hermione held him a little longer to make sure he remained asleep. She stood up, about to lay Harry on his bed when something made her stop abruptly. She felt a warm liquid spreading over her, between herself and Harry.
“Ewe! Gross, gross, gross!” Hermione ran across the hall and tried to get Harry on the toilet. Frustrated, Hermione began to fill the bathtub and undressed Harry. She cleaned Harry up; amazed he remained asleep, and dried him off. She took him back to his room, put him in a Pull-ups and put him in bed, since he was still asleep. Finally, Hermione went back to the bathroom and showered herself clean. She then went to start the laundry Harry had made.
Hermione went back to her room and continued to read. She heard whimpering and moaning coming from Harry’s room around eleven thirty and went to check on him. Harry was thrashing and squirming in his sleep. Getting used to how to calm him, Hermione picked Harry up. He almost immediately relaxed and stopped struggling. Hermione dressed him in some pajamas then whispered his name to wake him.
Harry slowly opened his eyes and looked around. “What … what happened? Why am I in pajamas again?”
“It’s ok, you just had a little accident earlier.”
“What? Shut up. I did not!”
“Yeah you did. You peed all over both of us! That’s why I changed my clothes too. Now come down and let’s get some lunch.”
“Let me change first,” Harry yelled as Hermione carried him out of the room.
“Mum said you should wear a Pull-ups for the day if you have an accident. Just in case, it’s not a punishment.”
“Fine!” Harry seriously doubted these words.
Hermione made them both lunch again and they ate silently. After lunch they headed back upstairs. Harry still feeling sad and upset did not want to be alone.
“Hermione, do I have to play alone?”
“What do you mean? Do you want me to play with you?” Hermione’s voice told Harry she did not fancy the idea of playing with children’s toys. He wanted to tell her he did not like the toys much either.
“Not if you don’t want to, but could I bring some toys to your room and play there?”
Hermione was momentarily surprised by this request, but remembered what a horrible morning he had. “As long as you’re quiet,” Hermione feigned being annoyed.
Harry gathered some toys, picking them seemingly at random. He did not realize he had sub-consciously picked favorites already. He sat on Hermione’s floor and began to play.
Hermione looked up from her book and noticed Harry was only playing half-heartedly. She thought it looked like his mind was elsewhere. She did not know that his mind was always elsewhere these days. On some level Harry was always thinking of Sirius and what had happened … what he had caused.
Hermione looked up from her book again and saw Harry crying again. “What’s wrong Harry? You’ve been so sad today.”
“N-n-nothing, it’s nothing. I-I just have something in m-my eye,” Harry lied wiping his eyes futilely.
Hermione did not argue but went to her bookshelf. Scanning the multitude of books she had, Hermione pulled down a psychology book. Harry’s eyes were too blotchy to notice anything she was doing. Hermione opened her book and began to quickly read. With a look of triumph, Hermione shoved the book back onto the shelf. Hermione grabbed some paper and a box of crayons. She set these on her bed and sat on the floor next to Harry. She wiped his eyes with a tissue then spoke.
“You like to draw Harry, right?” Harry nodded, even though he had not done so for years. He did not understand why she would ask him this while he was crying. Hermione handed Harry the paper and crayons. “Why don’t you draw something then? You seem kind of bored with the toys you brought.”
Harry moved to Hermione’s desk and began to draw, while she went back to reading. He did not focus on what he was drawing but once he filled a piece of paper he put it aside and continued with the next piece. After a while Hermione went to see what he had drawn. As she grabbed the two he had finished she noticed Harry had worn done the red and black crayons.
Hermione nearly dropped the drawings when she looked at them. They were horrific depictions of what had happened a few weeks earlier. One was when the Death Eaters had burst into the room with the tank of brains. The other was Hermione’s first view of the battle in the room with the arch. Hermione had been right; Harry was drawing what he was thinking about. He was venting his frustrations in a healthy way.
Harry finished the third drawing, but did not put it aside. Hermione looked down at it, while standing behind him. She could see why he had stopped and started to stare at it. It was a picture of Sirius falling through the arch.
Hermione crouched down next to Harry and saw he was crying again. She reached up and brushed his untidy hair out of his face.
“It’s all my fault,” Harry spoke softly.
“What is,” Hermione asked.
“Everything. You and Ron and Ginny and Neville and Luna were all hurt because of me. Sirius is dead because of me.”
“That’s not true,” Hermione said softly.
“Yes it is!” Harry’s face was covered in tears now, but he continued to cry.
“No, we chose to go with you. You told us to stay behind, remember?”
Harry shook his head. “My fault,” he repeated in a whisper.
Hermione did the only thing she knew would be of any comfort. She pulled Harry tightly to her and let him wrap his arms around her. She was not sure why, but she began to hum a lullaby and was crying herself. Harry stopped crying but remained awake.
“You don’t blame me,” Harry finally asked softly. Hermione had been holding him for thirty minutes.
“No, Harry, I don’t blame you. I never did.”
“Thanks Hermione,” Harry sighed, finally letting go and stepping back. “Thanks for looking after me this summer.”
“It’s no problem. You helped me realize I’m glad to be an only child.” They both laughed for a while. “Harry, why don’t you go change before mum comes home. She doesn’t have to know you had an accident today.”
Harry did as she asked and returned to her room. Hermione then played with him until Mrs. Granger came home.
“Did you two have fun today?”
“Yes,” Hermione and Harry chorused happily.
“Good. I’m glad to see you two are getting along.”
Harry and Hermione played card games until dinner. The rest of the night was the same as the previous. Harry watched television with the Grangers. He was given a bath after the news and put to bed.
This night, however, Harry laid awake in bed. He was thinking about the day and how Hermione had helped him. He was glad to have a friend like her. He had begun the first steps of recovery after his loss, but was far from feeling better.
He was still awake when everyone else went to bed. He pretended to be sleeping when Mrs. Granger checked on him. He finally fell asleep nearly an hour later.
Like the two previous nights, Harry’s sleep was plagued with nightmares. Also, like those nights, Harry woke the entire house when he woke up screaming. Mrs. Granger once again calmed Harry and put him back in bed. It was much easier this night and Harry was back asleep in five minutes.