Summary: Draco can't sleep; not even when he knows Hermione is safe because she's tucked in his arms and breathing soundly.

It was inevitable for Draco to wake up in the early morning and spend the rest of the night staring up at the ceiling. If he were lucky, he wouldn't wake up until then, but it was often once or twice he'd be forced awake by nightmares before giving up on sleep entirely. Somehow Hermione slept through it, but occasionally she'd be the one to bring him out of them. Draco almost hated those moments more. It was easier to pretend he was fine when Hermione didn't mention them and he didn't wake her with his screams.

It was selfish, really. He hated waking her up from his own nightmares, but he dreaded the times Hermione didn't tell him about hers. Given that her most prominent nightmare stemmed from his childhood home, he felt a little responsible. She never blamed him though. In fact, she almost forced him to hug her tightly for the remainder of the night as if he hadn't been present and done nothing while she'd been tortured. If he fell asleep after, he was often awoken by his own dream about that day.

So yes, it was inevitable for Draco to lie in bed, staring at the ceiling at three thirty-five in the morning. He was rather used to it by now and always took the time to admire Hermione while she slept or run through a current problem at work. Eventually, Hermione would wake up slowly and frown at him as if she knew he'd been awake for hours.

"Go to sleep," she grumbled, startling Draco just enough he jumped. She smiled sleepily and curled closer to him as she looked up at him. "You think too much this early in the morning."

"Ah, but I enjoy it," Draco said, which was only partially a lie. Hermione frowned at him and Draco kissed her forehead. "Go back to sleep."

"Not until you do," Hermione replied, shifting so her chin was resting on his chest and she was staring at him. "If you're planning on staying awake, then I will too."

"Hermione," Draco sighed. He ran a hand through her hair but Hermione didn't move. "I just had a nightmare. I won't be able to sleep again."

Hermione's face fell at his admission and Draco wanted to look away sheepishly, but he didn't.

"Oh, Draco," she said quietly. She shifted again until her arms were wrapped around his shoulders and she was hugging him as best she could in their bed. "You should have woken me up sooner."

"I'm okay," Draco said, though he wasn't going to push her away. He much preferred Hermione hugging him to lying awake alone. "You need to rest or you'll get hurt at work."

Hermione didn't respond. She loved being an auror, but the work was tiring sometimes and if she wasn't constantly on her toes, she was bound to end up in St. Mungo's, something Draco hated more than his own nightmares.

"You need me," Hermione mumbled into his shoulder.

Draco smiled to himself and hugged her tighter. He'd needed Hermione for years before they'd gotten married. Having her so close just seemed to magnify that need ten fold.

"Would you like some tea?" Hermione asked, pulling back to look at him. Draco knew she'd probably lace it with a Dreamless Sleep potion, but he nodded. "What kind?" she asked as she slipped out of bed.

"Mint," he replied. Hermione's nose scrunched up adorably like it always did when he asked for mint tea—which was really the only reason he asked for it—but she nodded.

"I'll be right back," she promised. She pressed a kiss to his lips then hurried out of their bedroom.

Draco sighed, returning to staring up at the ceiling. Hermione wouldn't be back for five minutes he knew, so he silenced the room and rolled onto his stomach. Burying his face into his pillow, he screamed. Without his permission, his eyes watered and he soon found himself sobbing into his pillow.

It felt like every image he'd ever had a nightmare about floated to the front of his mind and he couldn't keep them away. First it was Hermione writhing on his drawing room floor, then it was his mother being tortured by Death Eaters for his father's failure. Hermione's face replaced his mothers and Draco's body shook harder at the image of her being tortured ruthlessly by Death Eaters. Another image of Death Eaters, but this time they were torturing muggle children followed Greyback tearing apart the muggle family.

Draco felt like he would soon suffocate when suddenly, a warm hand pressed into his back and the images floated away.

"Draco, love," Hermione called. He rolled onto his back, gasping for air. "Oh, Draco."

Hermione wasted no time in pulling him upright and hugging him tightly. Draco slumped in her arms and locked his arms around her waist. His eyes stayed wide open as he cried, refusing to think back on his nightmares. He could hardly see straight and his head was pounding, but that didn't matter because Hermione was hugging him.

"I'm sorry," he gasped, shaking as he tried to breathe. Hermione just hugged him tighter. "I just—every night. It happens every night and it's too much."

"I know," Hermione hummed, rubbing his back soothingly. Draco continued to take shakey breaths until his nose wasn't stuffy and he felt like he was moderately stable. When he pulled back to look at Hermione, she pressed a warm kiss to his tear stained cheek. "You should have told me sooner," she whispered, "I hate not being able to help you."

"You shouldn't have to worry about me," Draco told her. Hermione frowned and shook her head.

"Draco, I want to," she replied, confusing him. "I didn't marry you just because you're decent to look at and funny sometimes." Draco snorted and she brushed the tears from his cheeks gently. "I married you because I love you and want to be with you always. That means even when you have nightmares. I chose you and I wish you would let me choose to take care of you."

Draco's eyes watered again as Hermione smiled at him softly. He pulled her close and kissed her, aware his face was still a little snotty and probably gross looking.

"I love you too," he whispered as he pulled away again. He kissed the side of her head and let go of her with one hand so he could take the cup of tea levitating beside the bed.

"Then would you please talk to someone?" she asked. Draco looked up at her sharply, ready to argue, but she stopped him. "It doesn't have to be me. For all I care, it could be a muggle. But your nightmares won't go away if you don't work through them. I know Luna really helped me a few years back when you forced me to go. Now it's time for me to force you to go."

She had a really good point, Draco had to admit. Ever since Hermione had gone to Luna after a ridiculous, near-suicide attempt on a mission, she'd been doing better. Draco had considered it before, but with Hermione looking at him so hopefully and with tears in her own eyes, he wasn't too sure he'd say no this time.

"It can't be someone here," he said quietly. Hermione nodded quickly, understanding he didn't want the papers to get wind of him seeking out a therapist. "I'm not sure a muggle would understand, but I can't trust anyone here to not spread the word."

"My aunt is a therapist," Hermione offered. Draco raised an eyebrow at her and she shrugged. "I've stayed in touch with her since the War finished. She worried when my parents disappeared, so I told her about the wizarding world. She would understand what you told her without telling anyone."

Draco sighed and after a second of debate with himself, he nodded. He'd become rather fond of Hermione's parents and if Hermione suggested an aunt of hers, Draco was bound to love her as well.

"Really?" Hermione asked, looking at him excitedly. "You'll talk to her?"

"Only because of you," Draco replied. Hermione grinned widely and threw her arms around his shoulders. Draco barely managed to save his tea, sending it floating beside the bed again so he could hug her back. "You better not tell a soul, though," he said. She nodded hastily as she pulled back and peppered his face with kisses. "Not even Potter or Weaselette, understood?"

"I promise," Hermione said. She pulled his face to hers and kissed him firmly. Draco couldn't help the small smile that grew as she kissed him so happily and almost wished he'd agree to see a therapist sooner. Before the thought had fully crossed his mind though, Hermione pulled back and reached for his tea. "I'll owl her first thing in the morning," she said, handing him his tea and happily grabbing hers.

Draco knew even as he sipped his tea that she would likely write the letter as soon as he fell asleep again, but he didn't particularly care. If going to see a therapist was going to make Hermione this happy, then he'd agree to it for the rest of his life. Unfortunately, he was starting to get drowsy as the Dreamless Sleep potion started to kick in and he found himself hugging Hermione to his chest and lying back down so she couldn't escape. Perhaps soon he wouldn't need a potion to sleep through the night.