CHAPTER FOUR
When Harry and Hermione returned barely five minutes had passed, even though they had been in the garden for hours. Harry was exhausted, there was a lot of information to take in from tonight. Harry now knew someone who also had the pressure of a prophecy on their shoulders, and in a moment of selfishness, Harry was immensely glad about this. He now had someone who understood, someone he could confide in without being pitied. Harry, however, also wished he could take away the prophecy so Hermione didn't have to live with this burden he knew all too well, and it hurt him to know this was only the beginning of her trouble.
Hermione silently apparated them both back to Harry's bedroom, careful not to disturb Ron by putting up a silencing wards so she could say goodnight to Harry.
"Harry, thank you for coming with me, and for listening. For a year now I've had to deal with this alone, and it's just a relief to share it with someone." She sighed as she sat on Harry's bed, the sag in her shoulders clearly showing she felt more relaxed.
"Hermione, I'm just grateful you felt you could confide in me."
"I wouldn't want to tell anyone else, only you. You mean everything to me, you're my best friend." She blushed and fiddled with the hem of her shirt.
Harry gushed at the statement, feeling nothing but warmth flood through him. It was a feeling he couldn't quite put a name to. To settle her nerves, he gulped and hesitantly reached out to the fidgeting hand and took it in his own. Although he wouldn't admit it, it settled his nerves too. Shocked, Hermione immediately looked up, relieved to see nothing but love in his eyes.
"You mean the world to me, and I wouldn't have it any other way." Harry spoke softly.
They smiled at each other and sank into a comfortable silence, both deep in thought about a number of things; the prophecy, the meaning of the prophecy and what this meant for them both, the chance to learn new magic, and most importantly why holding each others hands felt so right.
If anyone were to walk into Harry's room at that very moment their breath would be taken away by the sight before them. Two young adults, their hands entwined, deep in thought, were circled by a golden glow, illuminating the room. Little did the two know their simple declarations of their trust and loyalty to each other had begun the magic that would change their lives. The prophecy had begun to take place.
Hermione woke at an uncomfortable angle, her neck cramping due to falling asleep in such a strange position. As she opened her eyes she was shocked to find she was not alone. Their was a warm body across from her, an arm wrapped around her middle, their faces inches apart, as if they fell asleep half way through a conversation. Looking around the room she found she was in Harry's room, and that very boy was the one who's arm was wrapped around her waist pulling her in closer.
She smiled as she realised they had fallen asleep part way through conversation, confirming her earlier beliefs. She momentarily forgot they weren't the only ones in the room as she smiled at Harry's sleeping form. He had a slight droplet of drool leaving his partially opened mouth, making her softly chuckle at the sight of it. His hair was a disaster, sticking up at odd angles, and nearly covering his eyes. But then that wasn't much to different to his unfortunate hair when he was awake. She'd have to give him a hair cut soon, it was getting much too long. Very similar to Ron's actually…
She gasped as she realised Ron could wake up at any moment and it would not go down well if he found her in Harry's bed, in such an affectionate position as well. She silently untangled herself from Harry's arm and was just about to stand when a hand grabbed her wrist. She turned around and found Harry was smiling up at her softly, sleep still in his eyes, but the look was there, she couldn't miss it: pure happiness.
As he smiled up at her she realised no words were needed, he was thanking her for staying and in return she cupped his cheek and smiled softly in return, thanking him as well. He let her go and watched her leave. Both trying to hide the smile on their faces, neither succeeding.
As the last month of summer passed Hermione and Harry grew closer, spending most of their time together. They believed it was due to their equal empathy for each other due to the prophecy. Deep down it was a different reason, perhaps to do with the flutter of their stomachs and the sensation of warmth when with each other.
Others began to notice, and with that relationships began to sour.
It started with a week after Harry had turned 17 and the night Hermione and him had escaped to the garden. Outside the sun was beaming, the sky a perfect blue with not a cloud in sight. It was an ideal, picturesque summers day. Of course no one in Grimmauld Place could enjoy that, instead they had to endure the stifling heat indoors, and somehow, no matter how many cooling charms, the place continued to be uncomfortably hot.
Harry and Hermione were sat at the kitchen table, Hermione reading and Harry sat trying to see how many things he could levitate at once, much to everyones amusement. Molly Weasley was bustling around making endless amounts of iced tea, iced pumpkin juice, chilled popsicles and fruit. Fred and George were upstairs and you'd occasionally hear a bang of some sort followed by cheers and laughter from the twins. Ron was sat in the corner playing chess which he'd charmed to play against himself. Lastly Ginny was also sat in the corner with a muggle music box she had become quite attached to, watching the little ballerina dance around and around, whilst she charmed it differently everyday to dance differently and giggle and talk to. It had become quite a passion for Ginny. Everybody else was out on order business, which annoyed Harry more than he could say as he was never allowed to know anything about them.
He'd had endless discussions with Lupin about this subject, demanding he had the right to know what they were doing as he was the one who had to defeat Voldemort in the end. But Lupin had stood firm saying if he could he would but it's Dumbledore's orders. That was when Harry began to get angry. For too long Dumbledore had dictated his life, he can't keep him from the truth forever.
As if sensing Harry's troubled thoughts Hermione nudged him under the table with her foot, and she smiled at him softly before returning back to her book. Hermione looked… different today. Maybe it was because he knew her appearance had changed due to the prophecy, or maybe not. But as she sat across from him, he saw her in a light he never previously had done before.
The heat had caused tiny trails of sweat along her brow and along her collar bone, exposed by her teal tank top, just showing the swell of her breasts. Her hair had become a little bit frizzy, regaining parts of its original state, due to the weather, but the curls stayed perfectly tame, still framing her eyes. And those eyes, god, Harry thought to himself. They weren't glowing at the moment, she obviously had her emotions in check, but he could still see the speckles of gold dancing as if her eyes were on fire. They were enchanting. Just staring into them made Harry feel alive, somehow, as if they were a source of energy for him.
As he tore himself away from her eyes his trailed down her face, landing on her lips. They were slightly parted, gently biting on her lower lip as she concentrated. They were plush and pink, but not in an overbearing way rather a soft feminine way. They weren't striking, they could be easily over looked. But as Harry realised, if you studied them you'd see the beauty. Much similar to Hermione as a whole actually. Harry wondered if they were as soft as they looked…
His thoughts were interrupted however as he spied Ron standing over Hermione, gently caressing her shoulder. In return she looked up and smiled, and it broke something in Harry.
Without knowing what happened, a rush of wind blew through the kitchen knocking nearly everyone off their feet, but the gush of wind was not aimed for them, it was aimed for Ron. It blew him backwards straight into the hall, knocking him unconscious with a bang.
Mrs. Weasley screamed and ran towards her youngest son, Ginny was in shock just staring at her brothers slumped form, and Hermione looked confused, trying to find the logic in what just happened. It was then when it clicked and she turned to Harry.
Harry stood from his seat, staring at his hands and Ron. He knew what happened. He felt the magic leave his body, setting his nerves on fire, and head for Ron in full force. It was why that had him confused, and the strength of his magic which had him in fear.
Hermione knew what had happened, she knew all too well, for this happened to her after her 17th birthday. When her emotions were strong she lost control of her magic, or more the magic came alive. It still confused her even after a year of having them. She'd learnt a way of controlling it, and now it looked like she had to teach Harry.
She walked over to Harry and lightly squeezed his shoulder and softly shook her head, saying not here, not now. He knew what she meant. He had a million questions but she couldn't answer right now, and it was best if she found an excuse for this magic rather than blame Harry. It would cause too many questions which she couldn't answer.
They both rushed over to Ron as Mrs. Weasley checked his form over with a flick of her wand.
"He's fine, just unconscious." She sighed in relief, the burst of magic momentarily forgotten as she relished in the joy her son was in no serious harm.
At the sound of the commotion Fred and George cam bounding down the stairs, staring in confusion and amusement at their younger brother's position.
"What has our dear Ronnikins done now, George?"
"I have no idea, Fred. Very curious when you ask me."
"I reckon he peeved 'Mione off and she told him where to shove it."
"Or Ginny found him prancing around in her dresses again and taught him a lesson."
"Or-" But the twins didn't get to finish their routine as Mrs. Weasley bellowed at them.
"Fred, George! You get down here this instant and help your brother upstairs!"
Mrs. Weasley's shout shook Harry out of his shocked state and he immediately ran to help Ron up.
"Mrs. Weasley, look I think it was-"
"Unexplained magic, Mrs. Weasley. This place has all sorts of dark magic surrounding it and with the extreme heat it could've set off anything." Hermione patiently explained, with a tone that dismissed any other explanation.
Mrs. Weasley, distracted by the welfare of her son, just nodded along and accepted it without thought. Ginny on the other hand was not so easily fooled. Ginny saw the way Hermione stole a glance at Harry, her eyes pleading him not to talk and the anxious look on Harry's face, his brows furrowed with guilt. Ginny was more observant than they thought.
"Harry, let's go sort out Ron some cold towels for when he wakes up, I believe he'll have on awful headache."
Harry mutely nodded at Hermione and silently followed her into the kitchen. Hermione began running the faucet and collecting some cloth from the cupboards. She beckoned Harry to join her.
"Hermione, what the hell was that?" Harry exclaimed. His hands nervously, running through his hair as he paced. A breeze began to pick up again, both of their hairs beginning to be swept away.
"Harry, you need to breathe and calm yourself otherwise it'll happen again."
"I could've bloody killed him! One wrong move and his neck could've snapped! I could've killed one of my best friends!" The breeze was becoming forceful making the pots and pans rumble in protest.
"Harry, please. Look at me." Hermione tugged on his hands and tried to get his attention. But Harry pushed her off and stalked away.
"Do not touch me, Hermione! I will hurt you, I can't control it!" It was then the wind turned into a gail force, whipping through the air. It should've knocked them both over however their magic was strong enough too withstand the force.
"Harry James Potter, you will shut up this instant and look at me!" Hermione yelled, followed by a tingling in the air that gave Harry goose bumps, as if the air contained electricity. The wind ceased.
Harry turned sheepishly and looked into her eyes, they were glowing again however this time the glow was a burning, ice white, showing her anger.
"I'm sorry, 'Mione." He sighed, alongside Hermione's sigh. The tingling in the air ceased and her eyes turned a soft gold instead. She smiled slightly and pulled him, feeling warmth spread all of him, an unnatural sense of calmness seeping through his pores warming his very soul as he felt his relax.
Harry sighed in pleasure, "Hermione, what is this feeling?"
"It's called radiating. I'm transferring warmth and calmness into you so you'll feel relaxed. Anxiety, guilt and stress will only cause your magic to expel again."
"Is that what it was then? My emotions?" His face was buried deep into her hair, as he took in the scent of vanilla and almonds. Nothing had ever smelt so beautiful.
"Yes, Harry. It happened to me when I turned 17. It's similar to accidental magic, where we have no control. Except this time, once we regain our control our magical core only increases and we can learn to use our emotions to unleash our powers. I've been learning all year to control them so I can avoid episodes like yours just then. You should've seen my kitchen when I smashed my favourite mug." She chuckled, and Harry couldn't help but smile as it sent another wave of warmth through his body.
She pulled away but kept her hands on his arms, as Harry slowly rubbed her back.
"Harry, there's always a trigger. What triggered you?"
Harry tried to think back to the moment before he happened. He remembered levitating objects, and then staring at Hermione watching her read peacefully. And then Ron…
Oh god, he thought to himself.
Sensing his instant discomfort, Hermione probed him, "Harry, what was it? You can trust me."
Harry gulped, and closed his eyes, breathing deeply as he thought about what to say. These were his two best friends, Ron and Hermione. Ron and Hermione. That was how it was meant to be. It was always Ron and Hermione, and Harry and Ginny. That was life. So how could he tell his best friend he got jealous when her boyfriend touched her?
He didn't even understand why he had got jealous. He was happy with Ginny, she mad him laugh and smile. Hermione was his best friend, surely nothing more, right?
"Hermione, it-it was when Ron touched you and you smiled at him. I don't get it, though. I've seen this happen before, it's normal. I just can't understand it, Hermione. I saw it happen and then all of a sudden I got this sick feeling in my stomach, and I felt it, 'Mione, I felt the magic leave my body!"
Hermione stared at him, using her magic to reach out to him and calm him down again, whilst trying to get an idea of the feeling he was describing. However, when she delved deeper into his emotions all she could feel was… well, nothing. It was like there was a barrier around him, blocking out her magic. She frowned in confusion, noting she needed to research their connection because not once had she not been able to delve into someones emotions.
"Harry, I don't know what you were feeling, but I promise we will find out. Until we do, I think it's time I taught you had to control it, alright?"
Harry nodded and allowed Hermione to pull him into her arms, revelling in the comfort.
As the two separated and began to focus on the task for Ron, they laughed and joked together, occasionally tossing wet cloths at each other.
What the two didn't know was a particular sly red-head peeking through the gap in the kitchen door, listening to their every word. She knew that sick feeling Harry felt, in fact she felt it right then watching the boy of her dreams look at Hermione in a way she had only dreamt of him looking at herself like that. And then it dawned on her that he never would.
A/N: Sorry about the delay!