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Hermione woke with a start as thunder crashed loudly outside. She instinctively threw her hand out, searching for the warm body she knew would be next to her. As she grabbed bare skin, she turned her head and saw Harry already awake, his hand searching for her as well, grabbing her waist. Her brown eyes searched his emerald ones, holding him closer as another loud boom shook the old house.
After the war, Harry asked Hermione to move into Grimmauld Place with him for fear of being alone. Hermione accepted immediately, having no place to go. The nightmares for both of them began within days of returning to “normal” life and it only took a week before Harry levitated his bed into her room so they could sleep near each other like they had all those months in the tent.
Slowly, their beds were moved closer and closer to make it easier to comfort each other during the dark nights, until they finally merged them into one large bed. They never spoke of their nightmares; they didn’t need to.
Nights like this were the worst. The bright flashes of lightning and the boom of thunder brought both of them back to the nights spent in the tent, in the middle of nowhere, running for their lives from snatchers; running for their lives to find the Horcruxes before more people died.
Hermione focused on his face again, watching him breathe deeply and matched her breathing to his. They stayed like this as the storm raged on outside for another hour, keeping each other grounded with light caresses to remind them that they were alright.
As the rain slowed and the storm passed, Harry released his grip on her and rolled onto his back bringing her body up against his, her head resting on his bare chest. She placed her hand on his chest and he clasped it in his own, his other arm holding her tight to him. He kissed her forehead as she drifted back to sleep, worn out from the anxiety that had plagued her. He breathed a sigh of relief as he followed her into a dreamless sleep.