The Gryffindor common room was as cozy as it always was on chilly November evenings—warm fires crackling, the scent of old books, and the hum of quiet conversation as students gathered for some much-needed downtime after a long day of classes. A few first-years were gathered by the fireplace, trying to perfect their card tricks, while some of the older students sprawled out on the couches and chairs, studying, chatting, or even napping.
Ron, Hermione, and Ginny had claimed a corner by the fire, the three of them working on an assignment for Transfiguration that Ginny knew full well none of them would finish until the very last minute. Harry, on the other hand, had slouched into an armchair by the window, his head tilted back and his eyes closed. After weeks of sleepless nights—nightmares, Dumbledore’s unhelpful guidance, and the ever-looming darkness of Voldemort’s return—he’d finally given in to exhaustion and fallen asleep mid-conversation.
Ginny watched him for a moment, a soft smile pulling at her lips. Harry had been through so much, but tonight, he seemed to find some semblance of peace for the first time in ages. The flickering firelight danced across his face, making him appear younger than he truly was, like the boy who hadn’t been forced to grow up far too soon.
“Do you think he’s alright?” Hermione asked, glancing up from her notes.
Ron, who had been half-heartedly trying to finish his own assignment, shrugged. “He’s fine. He’s just knackered from everything. Should’ve taken a nap hours ago, to be honest.”
Ginny didn’t answer right away, her gaze lingering on Harry. She could feel the familiar, protective instinct rising in her chest. Even though they weren’t siblings by blood, Ginny had always considered Harry part of the family, and she hated seeing him suffer, especially when he tried to hide it behind a mask of bravado.
“I think he’ll be alright,” Ginny murmured softly, but her mind wasn’t so certain. She had seen the signs, seen the shadows in Harry’s eyes. He was carrying too much, and though he tried to hide it, she wasn’t fooled.
A few hours later, as the fire slowly died down to embers and the room grew quieter, something shifted. Ginny’s focus sharpened when she noticed Harry’s restless movements. His brow furrowed, his fists clenched in his lap, and his breathing became shallow.
Her instincts kicked in before she could even think, and she immediately rose from her chair, her eyes never leaving Harry’s form. Ginny had seen him like this before—had heard the murmurs from the boys’ dorms, the hushed conversations about his nightmares. She had no idea what horrors haunted his dreams, but she knew enough to recognize the signs.
“Ron, Hermione,” Ginny whispered, crouching down beside Harry’s chair. “I think he’s having a nightmare.”
Hermione looked up in alarm, but Ron was already standing, looking between his two best friends, his expression clouded with concern. “Shouldn’t we wake him up?” he asked, his voice low.
“No,” Ginny answered immediately, shaking her head. “Let him sleep, but I’m going to stay with him.”
Hermione nodded, though her face showed her worry. “You sure you’re okay with this, Ginny?”
Ginny smiled softly, reassuring her with a firm nod. “I’m his friend, too, Hermione. I’ll be fine. He’ll be fine.”
Harry’s body jerked in the chair, his eyes snapping open in fear, breathing ragged and rapid as he gasped for air. His hands shot up to his face, as though he was trying to erase the remnants of whatever nightmare had clawed its way into his mind.
Ginny’s hand was on his shoulder in an instant, giving him a gentle shake. “Harry,” she murmured, her voice soft but firm. “Harry, wake up. It’s okay. You’re safe.”
His eyes darted around, confusion and panic in them. “It was so real...”
Ginny didn’t let him finish. She shifted closer, her voice growing steadier, more grounded. “You’re here, Harry. In the common room. With us. No nightmares, no darkness. Just us. You’re alright.”
For a moment, Harry’s eyes locked onto hers, his chest heaving as he fought to get his breath under control. The panic faded slowly, but Ginny didn’t move. She kept her arm around his shoulders, drawing him closer to her, her warmth reaching through the cold of the nightmare.
“You don’t have to explain it, Harry,” Ginny said gently, her hand still resting on his shoulder. “I know what it’s like to feel lost in that stuff.”
Harry’s eyes fluttered as he took in a deep breath. The nightmare was still fresh, but Ginny’s presence, her soothing voice, was helping. Slowly, the tightness in his chest began to ease.
“Thanks, Ginny,” Harry whispered, the exhaustion heavy in his voice.
Ginny smiled softly. “Don’t mention it. I’ll always be here when you need me, alright?”
Before Harry could answer, Ron shuffled over, looking worried. “Everything alright?” he asked, his voice groggy but full of concern. He bent down to check on Harry, but Ginny gave him a quick glance.
“Yeah. He’s alright now,” Ginny reassured him, her tone calm. “He just needed a minute.”
Harry nodded, though there was a lingering unease in his gaze. Ginny could see it, and her resolve firmed. She wasn’t going to let him carry this alone anymore.
“Go back to sleep, mate,” Ron added, glancing at Harry before giving Ginny an appreciative nod. “You’ve got people who’ll make sure you don’t fall apart.”
“Exactly,” Ginny said, her tone light but firm. She gave Harry a warm smile. “You’re not alone, Harry.”
Ron walked back to his spot by the fire, stretching out on the couch and mumbling something about the assignment he’d probably never finish. Hermione watched Ginny and Harry for a long moment, then gave Ginny a nod of approval before going back to her books.
Ginny stayed with Harry, her arm around his shoulders, a comforting, steady presence as the nightmares seemed to recede. She knew Harry’s road to healing wouldn’t be easy, but at least tonight, he didn’t have to face it alone. Ginny could take the weight for a while, and she would. She’d always be there to keep the darkness at bay.
Eventually, Harry’s breathing evened out, and his head rested against the back of the chair. Ginny continued to sit with him, watching the firelight dance across the room, feeling the warmth of friendship and family settle in her chest. She was the Weasley who never gave up on anyone—and she wasn’t about to start with Harry Potter.
The nightmare was over. And for tonight, Harry was safe.