It's dark and I cannot see properly. I think I am standing in the great hall but the house tables are gone. Then from somewhere on either side of me fires spring to life.

Now that I can see, I look around. In front of me are two rows of chairs facing each other and I am standing in the aisle in between them. There is a body tied to each of the chairs but I cannot identify who they belong to. What I can see is that they all look, dead. Their heads hang at odd angles and it looks like their throats have been slit.

I wonder who killed them.

That's when I feel something in my hand. I look down and realise that I am holding a knife, and it's stained with blood.

Oh of course. I killed them.

I walk towards the chair closest to me, trying to see the face of the person sitting there. I use the point of my knife to push the man's - for I can see now that it is a man's - chin up. When I see his face my hand falls back to my side. It's Fred Weasley.

I walk down the aisle, examining the other faces. I see Tonks and Lupin side by side. Dobby's small body, collapsed and unmoving. Professor Snape, Colin Creevy and countless others.

And I killed them all.

It is a graveyard of all the people who have died. All the people I have killed.

I hear the knife clatter to the floor before I realise that I have let it go. I killed them.

I close my eyes, trying to block everything out but nothing can block out the thoughts that run through my mind. I killed them.

I pull at the covers, hugging them around my body. I bury my head in my pillow, hiding from something. From myself.

A small scream escapes my mouth muffled by the fabric that surrounds me. They're all dead. I killed them.

I lift my head up and scream. This time there is nothing to muffle the sound. I killed them.

I look around and now I see that I am in my bed, in my room. I know I am safe and that it was just a dream but I keep screaming.

Soon the screaming turns to crying because even though now I realise that their blood isn't on my hands, they're still dead. All of them dead. And I couldn't save them.

I feel someone's hand on my shoulder. I look up through the tears in my eyes to see Draco standing by me with a worried look on his face. I try to choke back my tears, embarrassed that I am such mess. I hold my breath to stop everything from flowing out.

'Hermione what is it?' his voice is worried and concerned like seeing me like this is causing him physical pain. That almost breaks me but I hold myself together. 'It's ok. You're safe. No one's going to hurt you.'

But I'm not worried about getting hurt myself, I'm worried about how I can hurt other people. I'm scared of the fact that somewhere in my brain I could imagine killing those that I love most. 

'Hermione please say something. Please tell me what's wrong. Tell me how I can help you.'

I open my mouth to tell him that I'm fine. To tell him that it was just a bad dream and that I'll be okay. But I can't, because that was not just a bad dream, it was the most terrifying thing of my life, to realise what I had done, even if it was only in a dream. I look up at Draco and manage, in a strangled voice, to force one word out of my mouth, 'Help.'

That's when I break down. I don't mean to but I can't help it. I have been forced to hide my emotions and be strong for so long, for so many different people. First for Harry and Ron who had enough to worry about without me making it worse. Then for all the people in the wizarding world who looked up to me. If I looked like I had given up they would too. I had to be strong for my parents. I had to convince them that I was fine and that I was still perfectly capable of looking after myself otherwise they never would have let me out of their sight again. And anyway, they would never understand what I went through they would never know what it was like.

But Draco does. He knows what the war was like. He knows how it felt to watch all those people die. But he also knows what it's like to feel isolated. He knows what it is to feel like you could be dangerous to the people closest to you.

I have been a broken person for a long time but I have not allowed anyone else to see that. Now I can't hold it in any longer.

I lean my head against Draco's chest and let the tears fall down my face. To start with every sob works it's way up from the pit of my stomach and makes my whole body hurt. But as the time goes by and a tiny sliver of light peaks through my window, I begin to breathe normally again and I find the courage to look at Draco. I see that he is crying too.

I have to look away so that I don't break down again.

'Hermione,' is all he says but his voice is desperate.

'I killed them, I killed them all.'

In between sobs, I tell Draco about my nightmare. When I finish I start crying again.

'I killed them all,' I say again, 'and I was happy about it I was proud of myself .'

'Hermione you know you wouldn't hurt any of your friends. It's not your fault that any of them died and I know how much you miss them. You are not that person Hermione, you never will be.'

But somewhere deep inside me, I worry that I could be.