Ron was sitting at the kitchen table waiting for his two friends to show up. Dad and Bill had left to pick them up half an hour ago and Ron couldn't imagine what could be taking so long; they could apparate for Merlin's sake. Circe's Tits, I can't wait to learn that. Fred said we get taught this year. While Ron was imagining just how much apparition would improve his life he heard a loud pop outside. Before Ron could move his Mum had made it to the door and asked Bill's security question as she held the door cracked open. Ron felt ecstatic: this means that Hermione's here. She'll be able to compare the hug I give her to the one I give Harry without having to tip Harry off to my plan. This is brilliant! I can hardly believe the plan is off to such a good start.
Mum was finally convinced that it was in fact Bill on the other side of the door and let him in. Ron stood up, ready to put step one of his plan in to action. I'll have to wait for Mum to get done fussing over Hermione. That's fine. It's within the realm of my predictions, after all. As soon as Mum had moved slightly to the side, Ron stepped in and wrapped his arms around Hermione. He was happy to feel her responding to his hug and squeezed a little tighter. I can feel her tits against my chest! I was right, they aren't anything compared to what Lavender has, but they're still tits. After a while Hermione squirmed out of his grasp and shot him an odd look.
"Hello, Ron. How've you been?"
"Not too bad, considering...well, I'll be a lot better now that you're here." Hermione's odd look hadn't changed a jot. "You want me to take your trunk upstairs?" There we go: surprise and delight is much easier to work with. Unfortunately Ron's chance to receive any kind of gratitude was cut short by a squeal from the stairs.
"Hermione! You're here! When did you get here?!" Is there anything as annoying as a little sister? Ron groused inside his head. Mum would whack him with her cooking spoon if he said that out loud. Still, Ginny's squeals had widened the smile on Hermione's face. "Have they told you where you're staying yet?"
"No?" Hermione's confusion sounded clear in her voice.
"Oh, you'll be staying in Percy's room dear. We have some free rooms this summer because Fred and George are living over their store and Percy...well, feel free to use the desk and the bookcases. When Harry gets here we'll move him into the twins' room. That just isn't a place I would put a young lady, but I think that Harry will handle himself with whatever they have left behind. He never seemed to mind their antics too much, anyway." I don't know why Mum and Dad decided to give Harry and Hermione their own rooms this year, but who am I to complain? Their decision allowed me to come up with point six of my plan. Merlin knows it'll be good to actually have some privacy ready to hand in this place.
"C'mon, Hermione. We should take some time to catch up before the boys claim all your attention." Ginny started pulling Hermione towards the stairs.
"Thanks for offering to carry my trunk up, Ron. It really is good to see you." Hermione called out with an apologetic smile as she disappeared up the stairs. That'll do for now. I had hoped for more, but no plan survives contact with the enemy...or a little sister. Ron turned his attention to the trunk Hermione had left behind. He picked up one side, or tried to.
"Oof! What does she keep in here?"
"I'd guess books, little brother; or have you been spinning us a yarn about her favourite hobby?" Ron just glared at Bill.
"Can't you help me out?"
"But you were the one who said you'd take it up to Perce's old room." Why do all my brothers feel the need to mock me?
"I don't suppose you could, oh I don't know, cast a Featherlight Charm on it?" Ron doubted that his glare at Bill in any way helped his case but at least the smug arse waved his wand and made Hermione's trunk a more reasonable weight. Picking it up, Ron made his way up the stairs at a low grumble. He dropped the trunk off in Percy's old room and briefly considered looking through it. Not worth the risk. If I get caught the plan won't work. Ron made his way back up to his room to collect a copy of The Adventures of Martin the Mad Muggle before settling down at the kitchen table again. This would both allow him to see when Harry arrived and would be Hermione and Ginny's most likely destination once they finished their gossiping. Bill appeared to have gone back to work.
Ron was just snickering away about Martin's attempts to understand how a broom could fly when he heard a double pop outside. Once again Mum rushed to the door. When she had performed the identity check, however, it was the twins who stepped into the kitchen. When they caught sight of him their faces split into identical evil grins.
"Well, lookie here Fred, our little brother is reading...sort of."
"Is that supposed to impress Hermione?" Ron couldn't keep himself from gaping at his brothers. Did they figure out my plan already? No, they can't have. I tore up the list and tossed it in the fire when no one was looking. They're just being berks.
"Speaking of Hermione, have she and Harry arrived yet?"
"Hermione has, boys. We're still waiting for Harry and your father to arrive." Ron frowned in confusion while his mother answered George. Why aren't they here yet? Ron's comic book lay ignored next to his drumming fingers. Harry's relatives can be a bit unreasonable about dealing with wizards. Still, that shouldn't give Dad any trouble. He's a fully qualified wizard and they're muggles. They couldn't give him trouble if they tried. Mum was putting on a cup of tea for the twins who had easily agreed to stay for dinner. Like anyone would turn down one of Mum's meals. Ron absently accepted the hot cup that his Mum pressed into his hands. The family hadn't taken more than a few nervous sips when for the third time within an hour an apparition pop sounded outside. Judging by the way Mum flew to the door she had been just as nervous as her sons. After yet another exchange at the door a familiar head of messy, black hair walked in. As the kitchen door closed behind Harry they heard a pop signalling that Dad had certainly gone back to work. There was a reason these pickups had been scheduled to coincide with lunch breaks.
"Oh Harry, how are you, dear? You're looking a bit peaky but we'll fix you right up. You probably haven't even had lunch yet." Mum bustled off into the kitchen. For some reason cooking for Harry made her just as happy as cooking for her family. The twins meanwhile had moved up to flank Harry.
"Harry,-"
"Honorary little brother,-"
"Favourite Seeker,-"
"Best Defence teacher we ever had,-"
"WE MISSED YOU!" They had grabbed Harry in a massive pincer hug as they shouted the last sentence together. Harry could be seen giving an uncomfortable little grin in the middle of a tangle of arms. When they let go Ron noticed Harry rolling his shoulders while trying to hide a pained expression. Wimp.
"Harry!" How does Ginny keep coming down right when my friends show up? Harry was caught in Ginny's enthusiastic hug and looked a little uncomfortable in that embrace. Like he would feel anything else surrounded by three Weasley brothers.
Hermione was next and she pulled Harry into a much gentler hug than Ginny had. Looks like I was right. Whether he knows it or not, Harry is my main competition. It's a good thing I saw this coming. Okay, Hermione you can let him go now. You were supposed to remember your hug with me as being the longest. Damn it, I need to interfere.
"Hey, how about leaving some of the man for his best mate?" Okay, so that wasn't the most subtle approach I could have come up with but I didn't have time to consider the situation in detail. It's more important right now that Hermione doesn't get into the right mindset with the wrong bloke. Ron walked up to Harry and gave him a quick hug before clapping him on the shoulder. He felt Harry's nearly imperceptible flinch away from his hand. Wimp. Definitely.
"Alright, why don't you all show Harry where he'll be sleeping and get out of my kitchen. Harry, dear I expect you right back down here to put some meat on those bones."
"Yes, Mrs. Weasley."
"Come on, Harry. You're in our old room, so we'll give you a quick tour." Ron watched as Harry picked up his trunk and Mum looked at the twins, clearly torn between scolding them for whatever prank products they had hidden around and letting them explain what was what to Harry so he wouldn't get caught in their pranks. She has such a soft spot for him.
All the kids trouped up the stairs to the twins' room. When they got there, George threw the door open as if he was unveiling an artwork.
"Welcome, young Harry, to our humble abode."
"Humble ex-abode, brother. We have a bachelor pad now."
"Quite."
"Do Angie and Alicia know about this 'bachelor pad'?" Harry's comment got him grins from the twins rather than the pranking Ron was sure he would have gotten if he'd made the same comment.
"Why Harrikins, of course they do."
"If our walls could talk..."
"I don't think I want to know."
"I quite agree, Harry. I would like to know how you did on your O.W.L.s, though." Ron was a little disappointed that that pleading look wasn't directed at him, but he wasn't overly concerned. Hermione had been excited when she had asked Percy about his O.W.L.s.
"Ah, ah, ah, Hermione. You have to wait until we're all here." Hermione was scowling mightily at Fred for his interruption when George came to his brother's rescue.
"That's right. There's a tradition in this household and as our honorary siblings you have to play along."
"And no cheating. We will know if you do."
"Harry! I have a snack for you down here!" At Mum's voice, the gathering broke up, though Hermione was still glaring at the twins. She didn't stop until Harry leant over and whispered something in her ear. She shot him a considering look and nodded settling into a more neutral expression. Ron followed behind the group, carefully thinking over what had just happened. If those idiots are going to pull Harry and Hermione into a Weasley Wager it opens up all sorts of possibilities; especially if they manage to get Hermione to join in the betting.
:-:-:-:-:
Hermione was almost vibrating in her seat. She had just finished dinner at the Burrow: the meal had been scrumptious, the company excellent and the conversation a bit overly focused on Quidditch for her taste. None of that changed the fact that she wanted to know how her friends had done on their exams. I still haven't received a proper explanation from the twins about why we can't talk about our marks. Harry had a valid point when he said that Ron and Ginny didn't seem surprised or anxious at the mention of a Weasley tradition and that it would only be polite to observe our hosts' traditions. I suppose I'll have to trust our friends that they wouldn't be putting me through this for a simple and frankly unamusing prank. If they are, there will be a reckoning.
Hermione was seated in between Harry and Ron. Also at the table were the Weasley parents, Bill and Fleur, who were apparently engaged to be married next year, Ginny and the pair of troublemakers she was once again glaring at. She just knew that they were stretching this out on purpose. Finally one of the blighters stood up and cleared his throat.
"Everyone, may I have your attention, please? Poor Hermione is going to spontaneously combust if we don't tell her what Harry and Ron's scores were on their O.W.L.s."
"Quite right, brother mine. We have managed to keep her quiet this long only by claiming a family tradition."
"After all, if Harry and Hermione are going to be around this much, they should be the subject of a Weasley Wager."
"Should be participating too."
"A Weasley Wager?"
"Why, yes, dear Hermione. Allow us to explain."
"A Weasley Wager is a spot of friendly gambling with the family."
"We don't use money, of course. We use these." Hermione and Harry were each presented with a red velvet bag by one of the twins. Hermione took a moment to look inside and found several disks of polished wood. Looks like rosewood. She picked one of the tokens out of the bag to inspect it. It had an 'H" carved into one side and an open book into the other.
"Those are genuine Weasley Wager Tokens. Each token may be traded in to the person it represents in exchange for a favour."
"Yes, you can get someone to do your chores,-"
"Fetch you something,-"
"Cook you a special dinner,-"
"You are really only constrained by your imagination and the rules."
"Yes, no favours that will cost the person performing them money and no permanent favours, one offs only. The person accepting the token has the right to refuse to do the favour and we rely on your good sportsmanship to not do that at the slightest discomfort, but only if you have a good reason."
"The reason we kept you from talking about your O.W.L. scores is that they are traditionally one of the subjects of a Weasley Wager that we can all get in on and it would be a shame to waste such an opportunity."
"Unfortunately we only came up with this brilliant plan after we had bet on Ronnikins' scores last night."
"So we can't redo that bet, but you can get in on the bets around each other's scores. All you really need to know is that we don't allow more than one person to make the same bet."
"I bet that Ron got seven O.W.L.s." Hermione looked to the side and saw Harry smiling at her with mischief dancing in his eyes as he placed a token between the two of them. "We can still have a bet between the two of us, right? Neither of us knows what Ron got."
"This is why he's an honorary Weasley."
"I quite agree, brother."
"Six." Hermione added her own token to the one Harry had just put down. There was something about that twinkle dancing in Harry's eyes that made her feel a little reckless.
"So, how did you do, Ron?"
"Oh no, dear Harrikins. Allow us."
"Accio Ron's O.W.L. scores." A moment after Fred had finished the incantation a piece of parchment came flying towards the table. George snatched it out of the air and laid it in front of Harry and Hermione.
Ordinary Wizarding Level Results
Pass Grades:
Outstanding (O) 2 O.W.L.s
Exceeds Expectations (E) 1 O.W.L.
Acceptable (A) 1 O.W.L.
Fail Grades (0 O.W.L.s):
Poor (P)
Dreadful (D)
Troll (T)
Ronald Billius Weasley has achieved:
Astronomy P
Care of Magical Creatures A
Charms E
Defense Against the Dark Arts E
Divination D
Herbology A
History of Magic D
Potions P
Transfiguration A
Ronald Bilius Weasley has achieved 5 O.W.L.s
Hermione's gaze shot up to find Ron. He looked incredibly nervous. He rightly should. I just know that he could have done ever so much better if he had just bothered to apply himself.
"Well, looks like you win, Hermione. Try not to make it too embarrassing, yeah?" Hermione looked aside. Judging by the firm look Harry was giving her, he knew what was running through her head and was trying to keep her from going after Ron. Hermione took a deep breath. Harry's right. I don't think it would serve any purpose to yell at Ron for his marks. It would just be kicking him when he's down. She nodded at Harry and picked up their tokens. His had an 'H' carved into one side, just like hers. On the other side of the disk the twins had carved the likeness of a Snitch. Appropriate.
"I bet that Hermione got twenty O.W.L.s. Straight O's all the way." It looked like Ron had recovered enough to start the betting on her results. He looked determined as he placed his token in the middle of the table even though his ears were still a bit red.
"Since you took the obvious one I'll say nineteen." Harry added his token. Ron was already smirking.
"Eighteen." Ginny's token joined the boys'.
"Come on, guys. You were the ones who insisted that we should have a wager on their scores."
"Seventeen." That didn't sound particularly gracious.
"Sixteen." Nor did that. The rest of the family, including Fleur and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley also placed their bets on ever decreasing scores. I can't believe it. Even Mr. and Mrs. Weasley are joining in on this.
"We have every confidence that you did exceptionally well, dear, but like the boys said: these Wagers don't work if everyone bet on the same outcome." That makes sense. Hermione couldn't relax though. Mum and Dad said that they were proud of me, but parents are supposed to say that sort of thing. What will my friends think?
"Do you want me to tell you my scores or should I fetch the letter from my trunk?"
"We could summon it."
"No! My trunk is locked and you'll just damage the parchment! Wait here, I'll go get it."
"No worries. Just adds to the suspense." Can't they ever just be serious? Hermione hurried up to the room she would be sleeping in for the rest of the summer. She managed to get her letter out of her trunk and clutched it to her chest as she headed back downstairs. When she got back to the kitchen she looked around at the expectant faces and sat down between her best friends. Nervously she pulled her scores from their envelope and laid them on the table in front of her. Black and red hair bent in front of her to read the scores that had burned themselves into her memory yesterday.
Ordinary Wizarding Level Results
Pass Grades:
Outstanding (O) 2 O.W.L.s
Exceeds Expectations (E) 1 O.W.L.
Acceptable (A) 1 O.W.L.
Fail Grades (0 O.W.L.s):
Poor (P)
Dreadful (D)
Troll (T)
Hermione Jane Granger has achieved:
Ancient Runes O
Arithmancy O
Astronomy O
Care of Magical Creatures O
Charms O
Defense Against the Dark Arts E
Herbology O
History of Magic O
Potions O
Transfiguration O
Hermione Jane Granger has acchieved 19 O.W.L.s.
"Congratulations, Hermione. This is amazing." She could hear the awe in Harry's voice and finally managed to gather her courage to look up. He looks proud. He actually looks proud even though I didn't get a perfect score. Ron looks somewhat disappointed. That might not be because of my scores. He did just lose a bet.
"Are you going to let the rest of us know precisely how sagacious the Gryffindor Genius is?"
"Actually, never mind. We'll do it." Hermione's letter was snatched away by one of the twins.
"Hey!"
"Hush, Hermione. You can have it back after we read it out to everyone." Hermione could feel heat rushing to her cheeks as she heard her academic achievements laid bare for everyone to hear.
"Harry's right, dear. Those marks are nothing short of amazing."
"Too right, Molly. You even outscored Bill and Percy and they went on to become Head Boy. I think there will be a new badge for you next year, Hermione."
"We bow, before the Mighty Mind."
"And offer her a consulting job if she ever tires of rules."
"Ignore zem, 'Ermione. You 'ave performed marvellously."
"Hear, hear." Hermione felt the tension flow out of her at that instant acceptance and praise from the others at the table. She turned to look next to her.
"Your turn, Harry."
"I say five O.W.L.s. Harry and I have always gotten the same marks." Ron was once again the first to make a bet.
"Yeah, but he thought you had seven. That'll be my bet." Ginny has a point.
"I thought Harry always scored a little higher than Ron. I'll say eight."
"Too right, brother mine. I think I'll cover one up from Ron then. Six."
"Hmph. You all underestimate ze man 'oo defeated me in ze Tournament. I will say zat 'e 'as gained eleven." Fleur's glare bored into the redheads, apparently offended by their lack of faith in Harry.
"I know that I'm marrying her for more than her looks; I'll go with a happy medium: ten O.W.L.s."
"Oh, very well. I suppose I'll guess that you scored nine O.W.L.s, dear." Everyone was looking at Hermione and Mr. Weasley.
"I have to recuse myself from this bet, everyone. Harry requested a new copy of his scores and asked me to pick it up for him. Richards is a good clerk, but he couldn't stop himself from gossiping." Mr. Weasley handed an envelope across the table to Harry. Hermione knew her gaze must be just as questioning as those around her.
"My Uncle detests anything to do with magic. He chucked my results in the fire." What? Why would he do that? That makes no sense. Explanation given, brief though it may have been, the stares settled on her. I have to make the last bet. Let's see, given the spread so far it would be logical to bet either four or twelve. She carefully looked Harry over hoping for a hint. His eyes! They have that sparkle again! Hermione barely contained her surprise to a widening of the eyes as a realisation hit her. Everyone's wrong so far. Harry is having far too much fun for anyone to have guessed his score yet. He would be more embarrassed if he had only scored four O.W.L.s, so...
"Twelve." Hermione kept her eyes locked on Harry's as she placed her token on top of the small pile in the middle of the table. That mischievous twinkle never changed. Did I get it wrong too? Is that why you're laughing? Did I completely misread you? Darn it, Harry! Stop confusing me! Now that everyone who could bet had done so it was time to find out Harry's scores. Hermione could feel the familiar anticipation building even if they weren't her own scores. Her eyes shifted away from Harry's and down to the envelope in his hand. The envelope seemed to be moving in slow motion until it was suddenly under her nose. Hermione looked up in surprise. Harry was smiling softly at her.
"Go ahead." She snatched the envelope and opened it with trembling hands. She looked at the scores. Looked at them again to make sure that she had read them correctly. Launched herself at her amazing best friend.
"Harry! I am so proud of you!" Harry wasn't able to stop all of her momentum and the two crashed onto the floor next to his chair. That was a hiss of pain! I'm sure I wouldn't even have heard it if I hadn't been laying right on top of him with my ear next to his mouth. Oh, Harry, why must you always try to hide it when you get hurt? "Oh, I'm so sorry! Are you alright?"
"I'm fine." No, darn it, you aren't. Don't lie to me. Just as Hermione was opening her mouth to rubbish that claim she caught Harry's eyes. There was a pleading look in them that almost verged on outright panic. He really doesn't want anyone to know about this. Why? What would be so bad about having someone help you when you hurt yourself?
"Harry?" He just shook his head minutely. I guess I'll find out later then. Hermione leant forward and hugged him again.
"Ok, I'll let it go for now. You will be explaining later." Harry's eyes were wide when she drew back assuring her that he had heard her whisper. Somewhere above them she could hear Ron reading the letter she had dropped on the table with a clear note of disbelief in his voice. Hermione didn't blame him.
Ordinary Wizarding Level Results
Pass Grades:
Outstanding (O) 2 O.W.L.s
Exceeds Expectations (E) 1 O.W.L.
Acceptable (A) 1 O.W.L.
Fail Grades (0 O.W.L.s):
Poor (P)
Dreadful (D)
Troll (T)
Harry James Potter has achieved:
Astronomy A
Care of Magical Creatures E
Charms O
Defense Against the Dark Arts O
Divination P
Herbology E
History of Magic A
Potions O
Transfiguration O
Harry James Potter has achieved 12 O.W.L.s.
He's been hiding his brains from all of us. Why did he never let me know? Was he just using me so he could coast through? No, Harry's not that lazy. At least, I think he isn't. Something else to ask him later. Not too much later though. Tonight, I think. The stupefied silence around them lasted until Harry and Hermione had taken their seats again.
"Oh, Harry, dear, well done. You matched Bill and Percy. Maybe Dumbledore will look at you for a Head Boy badge now."
"Yes, very well done, my boy."
"Did I not tell you zat 'e was competent?"
"Yes, love, you did. Well done, Harry."
"Hey, Harrikins,-"
"Are you interested in a consulting job?"
"We could use a braniac like you at the store."
"Especially since Hermione is unlikely to accept our offer."
"Or maybe you'd like to tutor me for my O.W.L.s this year? I'd be over the moon if I did as well as you did."
"That reminds me: Hermione, will you please help me study this coming year? I could really use any help I can get, even if Harry can apparently stand on his own two legs." Well that's surprising. Past experience would suggest that I would need to resort to certain amount of bullying to get Ron to accept any help. Maybe Harry doing so well is going to be good for more than just him. I should still be honest with Ron though. I can't get his hopes up unreasonably.
"I'll help you where I can, Ron, but I don't know which subjects you'll be taking at the N.E.W.T. level. If I'm not taking the course I may not know enough to help you."
"I'm not worried." Ron's tone didn't match his words. It looks like he's trying to come to terms with the idea that we might not all be sharing classes this year. Could it be that he really hasn't thought about that yet? How on earth could he have missed the entire point of these exams? Hermione had something else she wanted to get cleared up though.
"Since we're talking about tutoring: you'll tutor me in Defence again this year, right Harry?"
"Are you sure? I couldn't get you up to an O for the O.W.L.s."
"Without the DA I wouldn't have done nearly as well as I did. Nobody expected you to be able to correct several years worth of poor teaching in the time you had available."
"Alright, alright. If you really want me to, we can sit down and have a look at the coursework together." Hermione settled back into her chair, content as the cat that got the cream, as she listened in to the conversations around her. Her friends hadn't been disappointed in her and one of them had promised to help her shore up her weakest subject. This has been a good evening.
:-:-:-:-:
Harry pulled his pajama shirt over his head. His mind wandered back to the day he had just had. Coming to the Burrow was always a bit of a shock to the system. He cringed a bit as he remembered the way Uncle Vernon had treated Mr. Weasley. Uncle Vernon had been haranguing the man so badly that in the end Harry just pulled Mr. Weasley out the door and suggested that they apparate from the copse of trees in the park. Mr. Weasley had been a bit concerned by Uncle Vernon's behaviour, but Harry had managed to deflect him by handing him the written request for a second copy of his O.W.L. scores and asking him to pick them up for security reasons. Mr. Weasley had been happy to do so and told Harry that he was pleased with how seriously Harry was taking the dangers in their world at this time.
Then there was coming here and everyone wanting to touch me. That's still weird, even after five years of Hermione and Mrs. Weasley. It didn't help that the O.W.L. scores just had to show up yesterday. Usually I have at least a few days between my last beating and my yearly pick up. Still, it was worth it. She-
Harry's thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door to his room. Who could that be? I thought everyone would be getting ready for bed. He walked over to the door and opened it. Outside stood Hermione, already dressed for bed and with a determined look on her face. She stepped into his room without saying anything and closed the door he was holding. When she was sure it was properly shut she turned around and pinned him with a look. This is not good.
"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't go straight to Mrs. Weasley and tell her that you got hurt at dinner." Definitely not good.
"I didn't get hurt at dinner." Stick to the truth. You know that Hermione always seems to know when you're lying.
"Nonsense, Harry. I heard you hiss in pain. I didn't mention it to anyone because you pretty much asked me not to, but if you're hurt we need to get you some help. Now, what is it? Did you hurt your back when I knocked you out of your seat?"
"No, I didn't get hurt at dinner."
"Prove it."
"What?" Shit shit shit shit. What do I do? She can't know. No one can ever know.
"Prove it. Take off your shirt and show me that you aren't injured."
"How would that prove anything? I might have injuries that you couldn't see. Then I would have taken my shirt of for nothing." Damn it, that's weak. Hermione isn't going to stop for that. Think! What will get her to drop this?
"Are you telling me you have internal injuries, Harry?"
"Of, course not. I'm just saying that having me take off my shirt won't prove anything."
"It would prove that you don't have any visible injuries. I'll settle for that for now; unless you just want to tell me the truth."
"Hermione...please, just trust me. I didn't get hurt at dinner, okay?" Hermione's eyes narrowed at him for a moment.
"Alright." Yes! "I'm getting Mrs. Weasley."
"NO!"
"You see?! Something is going on. If you don't trust me enough to tell me, then I'll have to accept that, but don't even think I'm just going to sit around and twiddle my thumbs when you're hurt." Hermione whirled around and headed to the door. She's serious. Nononono. I can't let her get anyone else involved. Harry lunged for Hermione. He managed to catch her sleeve and pull her back.
"Please. Don't"
"What else can I do, Harry? You won't tell me what's wrong so I'm going to get someone else; preferably someone who can knock some sense into you." Damn it. I can't tell her...but, telling someone else would be worse.
"You can never tell anyone." His tone was flat and emotionless as he tried to use his rudimentary Occlumency to fight down the panic he was feeling. She isn't going to run away. She isn't going to just leave. I have to believe that.
"Excuse me?"
"If I tell you, you have to swear to keep it a secret."
"Harry, your pride isn't worth-"
"This isn't about my pride!" Harry could read the shock on Hermione's face at his outburst. "This isn't about my pride. I need your promise." Hermione stood there looking at him with a calculating gaze for a full minute before she nodded.
"Alright, Harry. I promise I won't tell anyone your secret." Harry felt himself go limp with relief at the promise before that relief was washed away by a tsunami of dread. I have to...have to show her. Harry could feel his pulse thundering in his ears and his hands were starting to shake. His eyesight seemed to narrow. He saw Hermione step away from the door and cross her arms with a cocked eyebrow. Harry turned around. Fumbling fingers found the hem of his shirt and started pulling up. As he let his shirt drop, Harry could hear a gasp behind him. He knew what Hermione must be seeing now: red lines seeping through off-white bandages where all the hugging, the fall and changing his bandages had torn open the barely closed wounds. She knows...someone...knows.
Harry's thoughts felt like they were swimming through molasses and his breath was coming in quick, short gasps. He couldn't hear anything behind him anymore. Of course you can't. Who would stick around to pity a freak, you idiot? Harry turned around and felt like something had hit him in the chest when he saw Hermione still standing there. Her eyes were wide and she had her hand in front of her mouth. When she saw his eyes she seemed to flinch back a little. Without any warning she turned around and headed for the door. Forcing himself to move Harry managed to grab her wrist.
"You can't tell anyone." Is that croak really my voice? "You promised..."
"Harry James Potter, do you really think I would just leave you like this?" Harry's eyes snapped up at the oddly stern and gentle tone. "I still have some of the Murtlap Essence and Essence of Dittany that I used to help you after your detentions last year. Were those wounds made by magic?"
"...no."
"If those wounds don't contain any dark magic the Murtlap won't be able to draw it out, but the Dittany should heal you much faster than wrapping your wounds in what looks like stitched together old shirts." Harry could feel tears burning at the backs of his eyes and hated himself for it. Tears are weakness. Weakness gets you hurt. "I'll be back in a moment. You just get rid of those bandages so I can apply the Dittany." Just like that she was gone. Harry couldn't move, could barely breathe while he waited for her to return. When she slipped back into his room holding a small bottle he sagged in on himself. Hermione opened her mouth like she was about to say something but shook her head instead.
"Come on, Harry. We need to get those bandages off if we're going to heal you." Hermione's voiced washed over him like a gentle surf, filling the emptiness that seemed to have settled in his mind. Harry tried to get his hands to undo the bandages but they weren't working the way he wanted them to. Instead they felt clumsy as he pawed at the knot he had used to fasten the bandages. He stilled when smaller hands rested on top of his before moving them out of the way. Hermione carefully undid his makeshift wrappings and let them drop to the floor. She drew him across the room to the nearest of the two beds.
"Go ahead. Lie down, on you stomach." Harry numbly did as he was told. Moments later he felt a weight settle on his rear end.
"I'm going to start now, Harry." Harry was barely able to stifle a scream when he felt liquid fire being dripped on his back. "I'm sorry, Harry. I know it stings. Is it that much worse than your hand last year?"
Grunt.
"It must be because these wounds are deeper. Try biting down on your pillow. I promise you'll feel better after we're done." Your voice sounds like tears. Your voice shouldn't sound like tears.
It took Hermione a long time to close all the wounds on his back. Harry just focused on not screaming loud enough to wake the dead. The last thing he wanted was for the rest of the house to come charging in. Eventually though the pain stopped.
"How does it feel, Harry?" Harry moved his back and felt a dull pain shoot through it, but the sharp pain of the lacerations was gone.
"Better."
"Your back is still covered with bruises. What ever made those cuts must have hit you pretty hard." Harry stiffened as he felt a feather light touch trace along his back. Is...is she...tracing my scars? Why doesn't this feel like...feel worse? I don't understand. "What happened to you?"
"It doesn't matter, Hermione. I knew it was coming and...it doesn't matter."
"I'll find you some Bruise Remover as soon as I can Harry. No one should be hurt like this. You shouldn't be hurt like this." Harry didn't know what to say to that and kept silent. He was busy anyway. Those feather touches were shooting shivers through his body and he could feel himself start to react.
"Are you tired?" No.
"Hmmm." Don't lie. Just let her draw her own conclusions.
"Okay, Harry. Get some rest. I'll see you tomorrow." Harry stiffened as the feather touches lifted away from his back and a hand ran through his hair. "Don't worry. I'll keep my promise. I won't tell anyone. I will be trying to get you to see reason and tell someone. Goodnight." Harry waited for a moment until the light was turned off and he was sure that he had heard the door shut.
Groan.
What the hell are you doing to me, Hermione? Did you have any idea what those touches were doing to me? An image of Hermione beckoning him alluringly shot through his mind. No! Stop it. Think about something else. Think about Snape. Eurgh. Snape and Umbridge; in tutus. Hrrk. An image of Hermione sauntering up to him and stealing his lips in a demanding kiss while feathers danced over his back crashed through his thoughts ruining all his hard work.
Damn it. I'm sorry, Hermione. Harry's hand slipped under the covers as visions of chestnut curls stole through his mind.
:-:-:-:-:
Hermione was unsure how she got back to her room. She was moving in a daze since Harry had taken his shirt off. As she crawled into her bed the last hour or so played through her mind. She had been expecting to confront Harry about a bruise from his fall or something and convincing him to go to Mrs. Weasley to have it healed. She hadn't expected to find his torso wrapped in makeshift bandages because his back had been torn apart like it had been mauled by a rampaging tiger. Wounds not created by magic, Enough scars to make it more than obvious that this isn't the first time this has happened, he barely talks about his home-life and certainly never in any detail. Hermione didn't like the conclusions she was reaching. Harry was abused. The thought made her heart break. Harry was abused and I never noticed. Guilt swept over her. Harry always said that his relatives hated anything to do with magic. How could I have missed that they would hate a wizard.
I'll make it up to him.
Hermione felt her resolve settle in her chest and for a moment she felt like she could face this; like everything would turn out alright for both her and Harry. Then the images of Harry's bleeding flesh tore through that resolve. She felt hot tears making their way down her cheeks and buried her face in her hands. She eventually fell asleep still hiccuping from her body trying to answer her spirit's grief.
:-:-:-:-:
Ron was laying in his bed looking up at the ceiling with his hands laced behind his head. All in all today wasn't a bad day. I managed to drop several hints to Hermione that I'm interested. She probably won't get her head out of her books long enough to really notice them, but they should have planted the seed of an idea in her head. Just about the only thing that didn't go according to plan was Harry's O.W.L. results.
I really should have seen that coming though. The examiners were always going to go easy on the Boy-Who-Lived. It doesn't matter in the long run. As soon as we go swimming Hermione will forget about that. It had been a stroke of genius to include that in his plans for the summer. While Harry sat moping on the banks of their swimming hole, Hermione would be getting an eyeful of Ron the man. Hermione will slowly become more and more attracted to me as we swim together. After all, when would she ever have had the chance to see that much skin on a man? My superior body will leave Harry a non-entity in this campaign.
Ron was sure that he would be able to convince everyone to go swimming. Ginny will want to show off the results of their shopping in the village. Hermione responded positively in her letters. Harry won't want to go against the flow too much and will certainly bow to pressure from his friends. Soon I will have Hermione eating out of the palm of my hand. Ron grinned to himself. Might be a bit early but I think a celebration might be in order. After all, I now know what her breasts feel like.
One of his hands slipped under his sheets while he imagined what it would feel like to have Hermione using her mouth to please him while played with her tits.
AN: For those of you who have at no point in your own lives been a teenage boy: most will have had thoughts along the lines Ron does to some extent. Having said that, very few will have acted on them the way Ron does in this story or even made a plan like that. They'll have stuck to fantasies and masturbation.
As always: thanks for reading.