Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter. I am not fortunate enough to have come up with that idea.
A/N: This is my speculation on how JKR might have Harry divulge the prophecy to Hermione and Ron in canon. Critical analysis is always welcome. I hope you enjoy it.
Revealing the Prophecy
After reading the same paragraph in "Magical Herbs of Great Britain" for the last half-hour, Harry still didn't have a clue what the text was saying.
"I am going to finish Snape's essay tomorrow," He told Hermione as he started to gather his things. "I just can't concentrate with all this noise." An exceptionally violent explosion from Seamus' deck of Exploding Snap cards punctuated Harry's comments. Ron had given up on the essay twenty minutes ago despite a few choice words from Hermione and was now embroiled in a chess match with Dean Thomas. Hermione, however, wasn't about to let Harry off that easy.
"You've got Quidditch practice tomorrow night, Harry, and the essay is due on Thursday. Just when do you plan on doing it?" she chided.
"C'mon Hermione, don't hassle me about this right now," he said, harsher than he had really meant to. In truth, Harry had anticipated she would say something and knew that she did it only out of concern for him, but he felt a pang of guilt as his poorly chosen words registered hurt in her eyes.
"I'm sorry Hermione, I just can't work on this right now."
"Do you want to go to the library? It's always quieter there," she asked hopefully.
"Nah, I think I'll just-,"
"But-,"
"I'll work on it during morning break tomorrow. I'm tired and I need to get some sleep," he lied. "G' night."
As Harry turned from her and headed towards the boys' dormitories, he could feel her eyes on his back and pictured her face lined with concern. At the foot of the steps, Hermione caught him by his wrist, stopping him from going any further.
"Harry." Harry turned to meet her worried gaze as she grasped his hand firmly in both of hers. "It's something else isn't it, Harry?" she asked softly. "I know it is. You've been so distant lately. Even more so than after Sirius…" she trailed off at the pained expression on Harry's face. "I'm sorry, Harry. I didn't want to make things worse," she said dropping her hands and turning to leave.
"Wait Hermione, its okay. I'm still getting used to his… well…, that. It's just going to take some time before I get used to hearing his name."
She grasped his hand tightly in hers again.
"If it's not that, then tell me what it is," she pleaded. It tears me apart to see you like this. Usually, I can read you like an open book, but you're shutting me out Harry. You're leaving me in the dark."
"I want to tell you. I really do, it's just that… when I'm ready, you'll be the first to know, I promise." Harry leaned forward and kissed her forehead. As he pulled away, he glanced over her head to see Ron's scowling face. Dean was trying to get his attention back to their game.
Harry returned his attention back to Hermione. "Just hang in there a while longer. As soon as I can straighten things out in my head, I'll talk to you, okay?" He gave her hand a squeeze before pulling away and heading up to the seclusion of his four-poster.
Upon entering his dormitory, Harry discarded his clothes at the foot of his bed and pulled on a pair of pajamas from his trunk. He laid his glasses on the bedside table and climbed onto the bed tugging the curtains shut behind him. He sat with his back against the headboard and his knees pulled up to his chest, rubbing his palm where Hermione had held him. The prophecy and Hermione continued to weigh heavily on his mind. Ever since the troll incident in first year, Hermione had always been there for him. As the years went by, she and Harry had grown closer and after the Department of Mysteries fiasco, it seemed she was keen to pursue something more. Harry had felt it too. He needed her support and wanted her near him. The many opportunities for Harry to take the initiative and pursue something further with Hermione were frequent, but his seemingly evident death at Voldemort's hands and his desire to tread lightly where Ron was concerned always held him back.
Harry continued to struggle with his thoughts and was beginning to think he should have told Hermione about the prophecy when he was startled from his reverie as the door to the dormitory opened and telltale sounds of Ron's footsteps filled the room. Harry kept silent behind his curtains hoping Ron would let him be. Ron had other ideas, and walked directly over to Harry's bed.
"Harry?"
"Yeah, Ron," Harry sighed.
"Can I talk to you?" he asked flatly.
Remembering Ron's scowl, Harry knew this is a conversation he did not want to have. "Can we do this another time, Ron? I not sure if I'm up for this right now."
Ron ignored Harry and plowed on. "I'm going to ask Hermione to go with me to the next Hogsmeade visit… alone."
Harry yanked the curtains back with his blood pounding in his ears. He had a pretty good idea that Ron had a crush on Hermione, but after the last year and a half he thought Ron had given up acting on it. Harry bought himself some time and a few deep breaths by reaching to the side table to retrieve his glasses. As the room came in focus, he saw Ron leaning against the foot of his four-poster staring at his feet.
"Why are you telling me this?" Harry asked.
Ron continued to study the ground. "I thought I should clear the air between us before asking her. You like her too, don't you?"
Harry felt his panic start to rise again; he thought he had kept things with Hermione pretty platonic around Ron. "I… well…" Lack of a believable lie left Harry with only one option.
"How long have you known?" Ron didn't seem surprised by Harry's admission.
"I connected the dots this summer. For a while, I thought you might have liked her last year, but you seemed to be so wrapped up in Cho most of the year, I didn't really think about it too much. But when I saw the way you acted towards her after the Department of Mysteries, I knew things had changed."
Harry recalled the nightmares he continued to have about Hermione being struck with Dolohov's curse and realized that moment was the turning point in his feelings towards Hermione. Harry wanted to point out that Ron only liked the idea of Hermione, and that when it came down to it, he chose not to deal with the day-to-day reality of her. He wanted Ron to realize that their incessant fighting was not playful, it was not teasing, that they were more like siblings than anything else. Harry knew he and Hermione connected on a level Ron didn't reach. But the reminder of the Department of Mysteries leaned heavily on his mind. Thinking of that incident, the danger he had put her in and the likely outcome of the prophecy, Harry knew he couldn't argue with Ron. If she would have him, Hermione would be safer with Ron. She wouldn't have to see him die at the hands of Voldemort.
"I won't stand in your way, Ron," Harry confessed. Ron's head snapped up to look directly at Harry suspiciously.
"Oh, thanks for the generosity, mate!" he sputtered. "Glad to know it's by your good will that I can ask her out!"
"It not that and you damn well know it!"
"Then what is it?" Ron asked sharply.
"It's…"
"It's what?" Ron snarled.
Harry didn't believe Ron would buy the "I'm too dangerous to get involved with" line and wanting to avoid the issue of the prophecy, Harry changed tactics, but knew that his words could have been better chosen the instant they left his mouth.
"Don't you want to make sure that Hermione returns your feelings before you-" Ron's eyes narrowed dangerously.
"Oh, thanks Harry. That's rich."
"I didn't mean it like that. I just don't want things to become awkward between the three of us."
"I think we're a little beyond that already."
Harry knew he had painted himself into a corner. He saw the stubborn set of Ron's face (so like his mother's) and knew there was no way out of this conversation without flat out lying to Ron or telling him about the prophecy. Thinking on his conversation with Hermione earlier and knowing she would pry the details of the prophecy from him soon, Harry decided his options had all run out and threw in the towel.
"Go get Hermione," Ron's mouth fell open; "she needs to hear this too."
"No way! I-,"
"I am not going to say anything about our, er-, situation, but if you want answers, I am going to have to tell you both about the prophecy first."
"Prophecy? From the Department of Mysteries? What about the prophecy?"
"Fine! I'll get her!" Harry snapped. And without another word to Ron, Harry climbed out of bed, heading for the common room. Harry barely had his hand on the doorknob to their dormitory when Ron stopped him.
"Not a word?" Ron asked over his shoulder, still leaning against Harry's bed.
Harry closed his eyes and took a breath to let his frustration with Ron ebb away. "No Ron, not a word," he answered patiently.
Harry made his way downstairs to the common room. Pausing at the foot of the stairs, he scanned the room for the Hermione's telltale head of hair. Not seeing her in the room, he located Ginny studying in one of the armchairs next to the fire. He headed over to her.
"Ginny?"
"Hey Harry."
"Have you seen Hermione?"
"Yeah, she gathered up her stuff and went to bed after you guys said good night." Ginny replied, raising a knowing eyebrow. Harry ignored the innuendo.
"Could you do me a huge favor and run upstairs and ask her to come down?"
"Couldn't bear to be apart that long, huh?" Ginny responded grinning.
"Ginny, please. This is too important for games."
"All right, I'll go get her." Ginny replied with a confused look as she rose to go find Hermione.
Harry began to pace in front of the fire as he waited for Hermione to come down, going over what he was wanted to say to Hermione and Ron. After several minutes, Ginny came down glowering at Harry with Hermione in her wake. Even from across the room, Harry could see Hermione's moist eyes. Harry made his way over to her as Ginny left her standing at the bottom of the stairs to the girls' dormitory.
"Hermione, I'm still not sure I'm ready to talk about this, but tonight… well, you and Ron have made it painfully clear that, I'm doing more damage than good. Will you come upstairs and talk with me? Ron's waiting to here this too."
Hermione leapt forward, threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tight to her body. "Thank you, Harry," she whispered quietly, her head on his shoulder. Harry ignored the stares from the rest of the common room and hugged her back. After a few moments, Harry reluctantly released her.
"C'mon. Ron will probably kill me if I don't get you up there soon."
Harry led her up the stairs to the dormitory where Ron was anxiously waiting.
"What took so long?" he growled when Harry appeared in the doorway.
"Hermione was in the girls' dorm, ; I had to ask Ginny to get her." Harry said calmly, trying to prevent Hermione from picking up on the tension between the boys. Ron's angry muttering blew that idea right out of the water.
"What's up with you two?" Hermione asked looking from Harry to Ron.
Ron, realizing he was on the verge of shooting himself in the foot, reacted first. "It's nothing; we just had a disagreement on the upcoming Ravenclaw/Hufflepuff match. What did you want to tell us, Harry?" he said, forcing a weak smile.
Harry shot Ron a quizzical look, not believing that Ron had used such a lame excuse, ; Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw had already paired off two weeks ago. Luckily, Hermione didn't follow the Quidditch matches close enough and missed the slip. Ron shrugged his shoulders stupidly once Hermione turned to look at Harry.
"What is it Harry?" Hermione asked.
"You guys will want to sit down for this."
Harry saw her brow wrinkle as she walked over to Harry's bed and sat down, looking at Harry expectantly. Ron stayed where he was.
"All right, you remember the prophecy from the Department of Mysteries?" Hermione reflexively pulled her hand up to her side where Dolohov's curse struck her. Seeing the guilty expression on Harry's face, she dropped her hand nervously back to her lap. "Well," he continued, "Dumbledore told me what it said."
"How did he know what it said?" asked Ron.
"Dumbledore was the one who originally heard it. Trelawney told it to him when she was interviewing for the Divination position." Hermione snorted.
"Hermione," Harry replied, "her prophecy about Wormtail proved true in third year."
Hermione's smirk faded. Harry chuckled inwardly, making sure to file this moment away as one of the rare times she did not get in the last word.
"Besides, it has to be real if the Ministry of Magic had a record of it." Harry hesitated, still unsure if this was the best idea, but plunged onward now that the ball was rolling.
"The thrust of it is that I, apparently, have some power Voldemort doesn't. And that one of us has to kill the other since neither of us can live while the other does." Harry could see Hermione's eyes widen in shock. Ron's jaw hung open.
"Dumbledore says the power the prophecy speaks of is love, that I know what it means to love and be loved. Voldemort never had that. My mum's love saved me when I was a baby and, it seems, my love for Sirius saved me when Voldemort possessed me, but it didn't seem to do anything to Voldemort except kick him out of my head. As best I can tell, it is only a defensive ability."
The desperation Harry had been feeling over the last few months crept into his voice.
"I can't hope to beat him. Look at all the people he's killed. Most of them were ten times the wizard I am. And I don't have the luxury of time to become as skilled as Dumbledore. Voldemort wants me dead now. It's only a matter of time before he wins."
Harry turned and walked to stare out the window, not wanting Ron to see the fear in his eyes. Harry's earlier thought that telling Ron and Hermione would make the burden easier to bear proved false. He felt just as wretched as before.
The three of them sat in silence for a few moments, before Ron broke the silence, his earlier anger with Harry forgotten. "You're not alone in this, you know. Vv- Voldemort's not going to get to you without going through me first."
Harry and Hermione both turned to look at Ron in shock. It was the first time he had spoken Voldemort's name. Despite his surprise, Harry needed to stop Hermione from getting any crazy ideas either. "That's just the problem. Anyone associated with me is in very real danger," he turned to look pointedly at Hermione. "The closer they are the more danger they are in. Voldemort won't even think twice about using one of you to get to me. He's already done it with Sirius. You guys need to protect yourselves. You've got futures ahead of you."
Hermione's face hardened as she rose sharply and moved to stand toe to toe with Harry. He could sense the anger radiating from her.
"How dare you think like that, Harry Potter?" she boomed. "You are central to our future. You are one of the most gifted wizards in this school. Look at everything you've accomplished!" Her anger faded some as she contemplated Harry's darkened face. "Don't you realize it, yet? Voldemort doesn't fear Dumbledore anymore, he fears you. It's in you that he sees his downfall. The prophecy said it Harry, you are going to destroy him. I know it. Ron knows it. Dumbledore knows it. And most importantly, Voldemort knows it."
"You might as well face it, Harry," Ron said walking over to join Harry and Hermione, placing a steady hand on Harry's shoulder. "Make no mistake, we're not going anywhere. You're stuck with us, like it or not."
Harry knew he couldn't push them away and found himself smiling despite his fears. It seemed telling them did help some after all. The three of them continued to pick apart the prophecy and its implications for another half-hour before Neville came in looking to go to bed. Seeing Hermione, Neville turned around without a word to head back down to the common room.
"It's okay Neville." Hermione called after him. "We were just finishing up." She turned to face Harry and Ron. "We'll talk more tomorrow, okay?"
"All right. Night," Harry said, reluctant to see her go.
Hermione left shutting the door gently behind her. Harry climbed into his bed leaving the curtains open as Ron and Neville got ready for bed. He lay in bed pondering his conversations with Hermione and Ron, as Neville's snores filled the room. After a while, Seamus and Dean made their way into the dormitory and were quickly asleep as well. Harry continued to think about the situation with Ron, however he couldn't help but notice that Ron was uncharacteristically quiet.
"You awake Ron?" Harry whispered.
"Yeah."
"You want to head down to the common room and talk some more?"
"Yeah."
The two boys both climbed out of bed and quietly made their way downstairs. Thankfully, everyone seemed to have gone to bed. As the fire was only a bed of coals, the common was dark except for two dimly lit armchairs in front of the fire. They took a seat in the chairs by the fire sitting in awkward silence, each waiting for the other to start. Harry took the initiative.
"Now do you understand why I don't want to get involved with Hermione? I am still not able to completely shut Voldemort out of my mind. He knows the people I care about most. She is already in enough danger just knowing me. I couldn't forgive myself if she got hurt or worse, if she and I were involved. I saw her die in the Department of Mysteries, Ron. When Dolohov hit her with his curse, I thought she was dead. The world stopped for me. If Neville hadn't the sense to check her pulse, I don't know if I would have gone on." Harry tried to hold it together. "I still see her die every night," he added quietly.
Ron stared into the remains of the fire for a few moments absorbing Harry's words before he replied. "I didn't know you cared this much for her."
"I didn't either, to be honest." Harry answered.
"So what do we do?"
"Like I said earlier, I'm not ready or willing to pursue anything with her. I won't put her in danger any more than she already is." Harry paused. "If you want to, ask her to Hogsmeade. I would rather she be with you than someone else."
"What about you and me?" Ron asked. "I don't want to muck things up between us."
"It won't. I won't let it. I have got to keep my eye on the ball anyway. Voldemort's tattooed a bull's eye squarely on my forehead," Harry said, fingering his scar. "I have to focus on that."
Ron didn't seem wholly convinced, but Harry could tell he had warmed up to the idea.
"So you won't be upset if I ask her then?"
"No."
Both boys started at the sound of a sob from one of the darkened corners.
"Did you two gigantic prats ever stop to consider what I want?" Hermione's trembling voice called from the shadows.
They both leaned around the corners of their armchairs with wide eyes to see Hermione's dimly lit form disappear up the stairs to the girls' dormitory.
"Ah, hell," Ron muttered.
Harry put his head in his hands. Tomorrow was going to be a rough day.