cassia i started your next chapter for you /j

Astronomy is a good excuse not to sleep, at least. It's about three in the morning when class ends and Harry can get to his own bed. It's a sad kind of safety in numbers, traipsing back to the dorm with Zabini and Greengrass, but nobody's there to bother him as he brushes his teeth and slips into bed to stare at the ceiling until morning.

Malfoy's breathing is steady in the other bed, the occasional whistle and rustle. The minutes drip by.

Six a.m. is a reasonable time to get out of bed. His eyes feel gritty. Maybe he did fall asleep at some point, just forgot his nightmares. It's stupid to go to breakfast so early, but some traitorous part of Harry wonders if he couldn't skip eating with the rest of the Slytherin table. Maybe he can just pick up some food that'll keep, stasis it for later. It's early enough that he'll have time to go out on his broom ride after.

His new muscles don't protest at the climb out of the dungeons. The air gets steadily more breathable — or maybe that's just distance from his new housemates.

When he finally makes it to the Great Hall, the muffled sounds of cookware greet him. Something's on the table.

Someone's at the table, too.

"Harry!" says Hermione. "No one's up, are you quite sure you couldn't join me for breakfast?"

"I wasn't going to eat." The words echo, like they're underpinning how empty the Great Hall is. How empty Harry is. "Well, I suppose it couldn't hurt."

"We really should talk more," Hermione says. She's disentangling herself from her book bag, walking closer. The feeling of Harry's heart rate picking up is familiar, except for how Hermione's his friend. Nothing to fear from her.

Harry doesn't realize how caught-up in his own head he is until there's the feeling of arms encircling him. Awkward, hesitant, he loops his arms around Hermione back.

"I hope those Slytherins don't — oh, you know," she says. The vibration of her voice is oddly pleasant. Simple human warmth that he hadn't thought to miss.

Slowly, like Hermione is the one that might spook and not he, Harry holds on tighter. He might not be able to let his guard down when at any moment his precarious position in Slytherin could crumble into violence, but here, now, warm and with the early dawn light filtering in from the magical roof, well.

It feels a little like the weight of the world on his shoulders — drops.