Disclaimer: Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger and associated characters and events do not belong to me. They belong to the marvellously talented JK Rowling (published under Bloomsbury Press). They are being used solely for entertainment purposes and no money is being made from this work (trust me on this one). No copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Note: Blame this renewed interest in the wonders of THE ship on the PoA trailers (and the hype around said trailers). Honestly, the wait is driving me absolutely bananas and I'm at a complete loss as to what to do with myself for the next couple of months. Any ideas?

Wandless Magic

Chapter One

Talented doesn't even describe the man.

He can do things most people have only dreamed of. Those eyes can turn my knees to jelly (and once sent me flying into a very amused Ginny). That messy dark hair falling over his eyes can make my heart pound (yes, the hair). Those dimples are enough to make me forget that Neville's just turned into an oversized bunny rabbit – Dean had just offered him a Bunny Bomb, the newest confection to come out of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes – right beside me.

Even his bloody glasses make me want to – well, I'm not going to go into detail about what I'd really like to do, but I'm relatively sure you get the picture.

One smile and suddenly nobody else will do …

Yes, it's actually gotten to the point where I'm afraid I'll probably burst into joyous song the next time he so much as looks my way. Quite disconcerting really.

He should be doing his homework right now, but he's not. He's teaching Ron the finer points of poker. In about an hour they'll be at my feet begging for the notes from today's History of Magic class. While they've actually taken to listening to Professor Binns (between snoozes, I understand) and are actually know to take notes – about half a scroll per lesson (together), they still rely on me for the more in-depth stuff. Well, it's certainly become in-depth.

The parchment has really been piling up over the last couple of weeks. Revision, essays, surprise quizzes – the teachers have been less than sensible about the entire matter. Luckily I had my revision schedule – and seeing as they're boys and somewhat disorganised, Harry's and Ron's schedules as well – roughly planned out two weeks into the last holidays. I like to be prepared for all eventualities.

When I handed them to the boys at the beginning of term, Ron happily informed me that I have serious problems.

He's one to cast stones. He's dating Lavender Brown. And if that's not a serious problem then I don't know what is.

But Harry just took the parchment and tucked it into his bag, an amused smile on his face. It was at about this point that I felt my pulse race and my knees weaken. Two point five seconds after he'd turned back to his discussion with Ron (the pros and cons of the newest racing broom on the market) I couldn't help but wonder exactly why my pulse was racing and why my knees were weak. About three point seven seconds after that I let out a dismal sigh, thus drawing the attention of several Ravenclaws who happened to be in the hallway at the time.

Logic is overrated. You can't dispute with logic. So if logically you come to the conclusion that you have a crush on one of your best friends, there's really no denying it or getting around it.

I always knew my brain would one day get me into trouble.

A crush on my best friend is clichéd enough, but a crush on the world famous Boy Who Lived? And here I thought my life couldn't get any more complicated.

It had taken me a while to get used to the idea. Admittedly, said idea had been flitting around for a while – since fifth year if I'm honest, fourth year if I'm really honest – but there had been so much happening at the time that it was always pushed to the back of my mind. How can one concentrate on one's love life when the most evil of evil wizards is out for blood – any blood, wizard or Muggle – and is looking to kill one of your best friends? Although the Harry situation involved an awful lot of prioritising, it doesn't mean that I didn't get some romance in my life.

Well, if you call my relationship with Ron romantic. Or a relationship for that matter.

I'd been aware of his little crush on me since the fourth year. It wasn't that difficult to ascertain. Ron's not exactly the most subtle of individuals.

It lasted about a week before we decided that we couldn't handle it. It was just too strange. Over a period of three days, our incessant arguing had totally dissipated. We spent that entire week on our best behaviour. By the end, Harry was ready to book us both into St Mungo's for some serious psychiatric help. He said that the silence was unnatural. I believe his exact words were something along the lines of, "This is just too bloody weird. Would you two just yell at each other for two seconds, please?"

After a long and convoluted discussion, Ron and I came to the conclusion that we enjoyed our verbal spats too much to give them up and that we'd probably be better as friends. A week after that he asked Lavender to Hogsmead. I wasn't sure whether to be pleased or insulted. It's kinda disheartening to know that you've been forgotten so easily. The least he could have done would be to pine away for me for a little while longer. But alas, that just wasn't to be.

And that was pretty much the end of my experimentations into the world of adolescent relationships. There really wasn't anyone in particular that caught my eye anyway – aside from Harry, but I didn't figure that one out for at least another six months. Besides, I was too intent on my studies. Hey, in my defence, I got fabulous results. Even in Potions. I can only imagine how difficult that must have been for Snape.

Speaking of Snape, I must read through that Potions essay.

Ah, later. Harry looks too adorable at the moment. He's just roped Neville, Dean, and Lavender into the poker game and is smiling widely.

It's so rare to see Harry smile these days. With the ever-growing threat of Voldemort hanging over everyone's head, he's still got quite a lot on his agenda. He's probably got a to do list somewhere – teach Ron poker, finish Potions essay, win Quidditch cup, vanquish Dark Lord, fix glasses …

It's been rather quiet lately. No sign of Voldemort anywhere actually, nor the Death Eaters. The Dementors have disappeared too. But we all know it's a matter of time before the real battle begins. The one that'll end it all. There's been so much death, so much heartache, and we're all tired. Even the Muggle world is being affected. Who would have thought that we'd end up reliving the horrors of the past? It's a lot to take in and sometimes it feels so surreal. Then we remember the ones who are gone and the reality hits you like a blow.

I send a discreet sideways glance toward the fireplace. Several sixth years, including Ginny, have joined in the game. There's a sparkle in his eyes as he drops his cards down on the table. He turns suddenly and catches my eye. He grins.

I'm three seconds away from passing out from the delight of it all.

Maybe Ron's right. Maybe I do have problems.

Serious problems, really.

It's that grin. That grin that always makes my insides melt. That grin that makes my pulse race. That grin that makes my heart pound. That grin that always reassures me that everything will be alright, that in the end we'll win because we have to, because it's our destiny.

It's that grin that always brings me back.

That magical smile that lights up even the darkest night.

Oh yes, he's got talent. I know he's got power he hasn't even tapped yet. I know he'll be the greatest wizard of our time.

In many ways, he already is.

He's been through so much.

But he's still Harry.

He's magical in every sense of the word.

tbc …