Raw Magic
Ron was startled awake from one of his favorite dreams (co-ed naked Quidditch) by the sound of Hermione screaming followed by shattering glass. His wand was in his hand before he'd fully woken and he shouted "Lumos!" The room was flooded with light, but Ron could see no Death Eaters or anything really except Hermione still screaming, clearly in the throws of a terrible nightmare. The lamp beside the bed lay shattered on the floor.
"Hermione," Ron said, pushing at her shoulder, "come on, luv, wake up now."
Her eyes were open, but unfocused and she began to struggle against him. "Hermione," he said louder, "it's me, Ron. Stop fighting. Come on, now."
She jolted awake suddenly and stared at him wild-eyed. She started to cry.
"Oh, it's alright, now," Ron said, wrapping her in his arms and holding her close as she sobbed against his chest. "It's alright, just a nightmare, luv."
There was a soft knock at the door. "Hermione?" It was Mr. Granger. Oh, bloody hell! Ron thought frantically. The doorknob turned.
"Come in," Ron said, wincing. "She's fine, just a nightmare."
Mr. Granger took a tentative step inside with Mrs. Granger right on his heels. "You're sure she's alright?" Mr. Granger asked, a clear edge to his voice.
Ron was suddenly thankful for air-conditioning, because without it, he and Hermione would be sitting there starkers in front of her parents. "Really," Ron said. "It was just a bad dream." He was stroking Hermione's hair as he said it.
Suddenly, she seemed to realize that her parents were in the room and pulled away from him, pushing at her eyes with the heels of her hands to wipe the tears away. "I'm fine," she said in a choked voice.
"I guess I should get the broom and dust bin then," her father said.
Ron looked at him, confused as to what good that would do, and then he remembered the lamp was broken. "Oh, don't bother." Ron flicked his wand at it and said, "Reparo." The lamp popped itself together with a snap and Ron leaned over and turned it on.
Mr. and Mrs. Granger stood blinking at him, at a loss for words.
"They're broken all over the house," Mr. Granger finally said.
"Oh," Ron said, getting out of bed, "well, let's fix that then, shall we?"
He touched Hermione's cheek, "Alright?"
She nodded.
"I'm just going to go help your Dad, I'll be back."
She sniffled and nodded again.
As Ron and her father left, Ron was relieved to see Mrs. Granger go and sit on the bed next to Hermione.
Mrs. Granger tentatively put her arm around her daughter and was pleased when Hermione leaned against her. "Oh, Hermione."
"That was awful, Mum," Hermione said, trembling.
"It was just a dream, darling," her mother said softly.
"I know, but I broke all the lamps."
"Ron and your father are taking care of that, don't worry about it."
"Oh, Mum," Hermione said covering her face with her hands, "I released raw magic, at my age. It's so humiliating. I can't believe I did that in front of Ron."
"Well, I'm sure that happens in the wizarding world all the time, nothing to be ashamed of."
"Mum," Hermione wailed, "losing control of raw magic, it's like…it's like…wetting the bed."
"Oh," Her mother nodded. "Well," she said, patting Hermione's knee, "you'll find, Hermione, that those closest to us often see us at our most embarrassing moments. It's part of the price you pay for being intimate."
Hermione took a deep breath, and looked at her mother. "Still-"
"Come on, now, buck up." Her mother stood. "We'll have a cup of tea."
Hermione pulled on her dressing gown, stopping in Ron's room to get his, before following her mother downstairs.
Her mother had tea ready and waiting on the bar in the kitchen when Hermione came in.
"Thanks, Mum."
Her mother nodded. "Have some chamomile. It'll calm your nerves."
Hermione was quietly sipping her tea when Ron and her father came into the kitchen.
"I think Ron's managed to put everything right." He said, pouring some tea for himself.
Ron saw his tatty, old, orange dressing gown thrown across one of the stools and pulled it on. "Thanks for this," he said to Hermione.
"Tea, Ron?" Mrs. Granger asked him.
"Yes, please," he said, sitting on the stool next to Hermione.
Mrs. Granger slid a cup over to him.
"I love chamomile. Mum always makes it when anyone's had a rough night," Ron said.
"I think we've all had that," Mr. Granger said.
"Sorry about that," Hermione mumbled.
"We can't help our dreams, Hermione." Her father covered her hand with his.
There was a long awkward silence.
Mrs. Granger finally broke it. "I suppose you all must think me rather daft."
Everyone looked at her.
"You come home unexpectedly with Ron in tow. You wake up screaming in the middle of the night. Last summer you came home scarred and injured, and I look at Ron and see the same has happened to him. You know, Hermione, I'm not stupid. You're father and I have the exact same education." She poured herself another cup of tea. "So who at this table is going to tell me exactly what's going on here?"
Hermione looked at her father, who nodded. "There's a war on, Mum. There's a wizard named Voldemort…"
The next two hours the four of them covered the war. Hermione, with Ron's assistance, told the story of Harry and Voldemort and all their adventures, good and bad. By the end of the story, Hermione's parents sat huddled together, her father's arm tightly around her mother's shoulders.
"I'm sorry I kept all this from you. I just didn't want you to worry, but honestly, this is going to spill over into your world soon enough, if he isn't stopped, so you might as well know now." Hermione pushed her fingers through her hair.
Her parents were ashen faced. "Well, we appreciate your candor."
Ron reached out and held Hermione's hand.
Her mother stood and moved the tea things. "I think it's time we were back in bed."
Ron looked at the kitchen clock. It was three in the morning. "Yeah," he said. "Come on." He took Hermione's hand. "G'night." The two of them held hands as they ascended the stairs.
Ron lay on his back with Hermione's head resting on his chest. He could tell from her breathing that she wasn't asleep. He lay watching the stars he'd enchanted on her ceiling for a long time thinking about the return to the Burrow tomorrow and the talk he needed to have with Harry.
