Revealing the Prophecy

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.

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter. I am not fortunate enough to have come up with that idea.

Revealing the Prophecy – Chapter 2

The dawn came much too soon for Harry’s liking. He would have been perfectly happy to hide inside his four-poster for the next two weeks than face Hermione after his and Ron’s somewhat less than private discussion the night before. The boys dressed while discussing how best to handle the situation. Harry was desperately trying to put a positive spin on things by saying that it was better in the long run that things were out in the open. Ron was less enthusiastic.

“What do you mean, this is better? This is worse that her shooting me down.”

“Ron, neither of us has any idea how she feels.”

“Oh, I think she made it pretty clear how she feels last night,” Ron challenged.

“I don’t see it that way,” Harry countered.

“C’mon, Harry. You’re not that thick. If she was really interested in me and not you, why would she be upset? She’d just quietly slip up the stairs and wait for me to ask her out. All I’ve got is rejection waiting for me,” Ron said bitterly.

Harry felt Ron actually had a pretty good handle on their predicament, but didn’t want him to feel any worse than he already did.

“I think you’re jumping to conclusions. Just go talk to her. She knows how you feel now. You two need to straighten things out.”

“You go talk to her. I just want to forget this ever happened.”

“I think you should speak to her first,” Harry suggested. “If she’s willing to go to Hogsmeade with you, it’ll greatly simplify things for everyone.” Ron stared at Harry in disbelief.

“You bloody coward,” he retorted. “You just want her tired out so that she doesn’t have any energy to rip you a new hole once she’s bitten my head off.”

“Is that so bad?” Harry asked innocently.

“Bad for me, yeah.”

“All right then, how about this,” Harry answered. “We’ll play Rock-Paper-Scissors. The loser has to talk to Hermione first.”

“What’s Rock-Paper-Scissors?”

“It’s a muggle game. It’s perfect for deciding who goes first. You hit one of your fists into the palm of your other hand three times. On the third strike you choose rock, paper, or scissors,” Harry said, gesturing to demonstrate the choices as he said the names of each. “Rock beats scissors, paper beats rock, and scissors beats paper. Get it?”

“Sortta.”

“Here, watch me and Dean.” Dean was getting dressed on the opposite side of the dormitory.

“Hey Dean! Come here for a minute.” Dean finished buttoning up his shirt as he walked over.

“What’s up, Harry?”

“I’m trying to teach Ron how to play Rock-Paper-Scissors. Can you play a few matches with me so he can see how it works?”

“All right,” Dean replied putting his fist into the open palm of his other hand.

They walked through a few matches (Dean won 2-1) before Harry and Dean turned expectantly to Ron.

“You get the idea?” Harry asked.

“Yeah, let’s get this over with.”

“Okay, ready?”

They both smacked their hands three times. Harry held out rock, Ron held out scissors.

“Yes!” Harry exclaimed as Ron groaned.

“C’mon. Best two out of three,” Ron pleaded. “This is my first time playing.”

Dean chuckled and headed back to finish dressing.

“No way!” Harry said grinning. “Next time, you’ll have to specify that beforehand. You’re stuck, mate.”

Ron muttered something under his breath about shoving Harry’s rock somewhere as he proceeded to pull his robes on. Harry felt considerably better knowing he had managed to delay the inevitably difficult conservation with Hermione, if only for just a little bit longer.

Harry and Ron headed down to the common room together finding Hermione sitting in the chair Harry had occupied the previous night and looking very stern. Harry inwardly thanked lady luck and cheerfully clapped Ron on the back.

“Like a moth to a flame, eh?” Harry whispered to Ron before turning to make a hasty retreat from the common room. Ron gave Harry a look of deepest loathing.

“And just where do you think you are going, Harry?” Hermione called with a piercing gaze that stopped him midstride.

“Oh boy,” Harry sighed. “Well, er… I thought … you see … that I would go down to breakfast while you and Ron, er… talked some,” Harry said hopefully. Hermione raised her eyebrows in response.

“Thinking was your second mistake. Have a seat,” she said gesturing to one of the seats across from her. Ron smiled triumphantly at Harry before heading towards the portrait of the fat lady.

“Oh, you’re not going anywhere either, Weasley. You can pull up a chair right next to Harry.” It was Harry’s turn for a smug grin as Ron’s own smile evaporated.

“Hermione, Harry and I both agree we should have this conversation separately.”

“This isn’t going to be a conversation. I want you two to sit down and listen to me. It’s time you guys included me in my own future. So you are both going to sit and hear me out. Then we can decide how to handle things from there.”

Harry and Ron shared a glum look before slumping into chairs opposite of Hermione. Hermione shifted her chair so that she sat in the middle of the two. Taking a calming breath, her face softened as she fixed her gaze on her lap. The boys, for that matter, did not seem interested in making eye contact either.

“Listen,” Hermione started, “this has turned into quite a mess and don’t think there is any better way to address this than to make sure we all understand where each others’ feelings are first.”

Harry snuck a glance at Ron out of the corner of his eye. He was looking about as good as Harry felt. Hermione didn’t notice.

“You both need to understand that I care about both of you tremendously. We have been through some really tough times together and our friendship has never suffered long term. I am hoping that our friendship won’t fall apart over this.”

Hermione paused to gather herself, shifting to face Ron.

“Ron, I am flattered that you want me to go to Hogsmeade with you, but I would be leading you on if I went with you as more than a friend.” Ron’s shoulders slumped in defeat and his face reddened with embarrassment. “You’re a great guy, Ron, but my feelings don’t extend beyond friendship. I’m sorry. I know its hard Ron,” she continued, “and I—,”

“What do you mean, you know it’s hard?” Ron bellowed jumping to his feet. “You’re not the one having their heart torn out and trampled by a herd of rampaging hippogriffs!”

“I said I’m sorry Ron, but I can’t just wave my wand and suddenly have new feelings for you!” Hermione retorted. “I’ve been dreading this day for over a year. Worried that the day you finally asked me out would be the last day of our friendship.”

Harry didn’t think it was possible that Ron’s face could have been any redder than it already was, but the news that Hermione had known Ron liked her for over a year turned his face a violent shade of scarlet. His anger disappeared only to be replaced by towering embarrassment.

“You’ve known all this time?” he asked quietly, his face still burning. Hermione looked down at the ground.

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

Ron seemed to be trying to make himself as small as possible. Harry decided it was time for him to intercede.

“Ron, none of us can help the way we feel about each other. It’s certainly not something any of us planned. It just happened, but if you get nothing else out of this conversation, understand that your friendship is absolutely essential to me and Hermione. Our lives would be greatly diminished without you in it, so don’t think that either of us isn’t going to fight tooth and nail, to keep you as our friend.”

Harry’s statements seemed to placate Ron. He fell back into his chair, sitting in moody silence. Each of them was lost in thought for several moments before a scuffling sound from the bottom of the dormitory stairs drew their attention. A group of students led by Dean Thomas had gathered out of sight waiting for a break in the action so that they could head down to breakfast. They began moving across the room, trying to draw as little attention as possible to themselves. It didn’t work.

“Enjoying the spectacle?” Ron roared at them. Startled, the herd of students broke ranks stampeding towards the portrait of the fat lady. Ron returned to his brooding.

Hermione sat back down in her seat and turned to look intently at Harry.

“Harry, you’ve made such great strides in Occlumency, and I don’t agree that you and I can’t be together. I am not willing to let Voldemort dictate my happiness. Think about the prophecy Harry. You said it yourself last night. You need to love and be loved to defeat him.”

“I don’t need to hear this,” Ron growled, rising from his chair to stomp off after the other students.

“Ron,” Harry called before Hermione stopped him.

“Let him go,” she said. “He’s right; he doesn’t need to hear this.”

Harry watched Ron disappear before turning back to Hermione.

“Hermione, it is precisely because of my feelings that you are at such a risk. Voldemort will use you to get to me. There is no way we can be together right now.”

“How can you say that?” Hermione asked quietly. “How can you cast aside your feelings like that?”

“Hermione, I’m not casting aside any feelings, I want nothing more than for us to be together. But the stronger my feelings are for you, the less capable I would be of fighting him if something were to happen to you. Look at the way I shut down in the Department of Mysteries. I already need you too much.”

Hermione stepped closer to Harry.

“And I need you that much too.”

“But we can’t cross that line between friends and something more. The second Voldemort discovers you are more than a friend to me, he’ll come after you.”

“We have already crossed that line, Harry,” she said intently. “We passed that point long ago. If Voldemort were listening right now, he would know that something more exists between us. There is no going back. It doesn’t matter whether we label each other boyfriend or girlfriend. He would know how you and I feel, period. The risk to me, to us… will not change.”

Harry felt he was losing ground in this argument, but wasn’t willing to relent. Hermione, however, seemed to be getting into a rhythm and wasn’t about to let him get a word in.

“Harry, if you turn your back on us you will be giving Voldemort exactly what he needs to win. He needs us to be miserable. He needs us to suffer alone. Isolating yourself will only make the situation worse. He can be beat Harry, but you have to give us a chance.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

“It is easy. You just have to listen to your heart.”

“Listening to my heart already got Sirius killed,” Harry said bitterly.

“And listening to your heart will give you the power you need to defeat Voldemort,” she countered.

“If I were a normal guy, this would be so much easier, but I’m not a normal guy, Hermione. All because of that damn prophecy.”

“But Harry—,” Hermione interjected.

“But nothing. I’m a marked man. My future is set. At worst, I could die tomorrow. At best, I have a long, miserable life fighting Voldemort. I can’t offer you the happiness you deserve.”

“You have already given me more happiness than I had ever hoped for. I see in us something I have seen in no other couple at Hogwarts. It’s so special and rare; I won’t set it aside for another day.”

Harry felt his resolve weakening at her words. Hermione seemed to sense it too.

She smiled warmly at Harry and took another step towards him, placing her hands on his waist and resting her forehead on his chest. “From everything we’ve heard about them, I believe it’s what your parents had.”

Harry knew this was her trump card, but didn’t doubt that she meant what she was saying. He realized he would never argue with her when she said that. If she would love him like his mother loved his father, he would return it tenfold without doubt or question. Harry pulled her into a tight embrace willing his body to tell her what his choked voice could not.

Hermione let out a sigh of relief as he held her. They clung desperately to each other not caring if the castle fell down around them. The moment, however, was broken by muffled voices from the bottom of the stairs. It seemed another group of students was hungry as well.

Harry reluctantly released Hermione and poured everything he had into a loving smile before clasping her hand in his and turning to address the growing crowd.

“You guys can go ahead now,” Harry called to them, smiling akwardly.

Seamus poked his head around the corner briefly and glanced down at their entwined hands, smirking.

“Glad to see you guys finally worked this out. I lost 10 sickles to the Weasley twins last year because of you two.”

Seamus stepped out at the head of another pack of students. The rest of the students filed past whispering and grinning at Harry and Hermione.

“Best 10 sickles I ever lost, mate,” Seamus quipped, making for the exit. He paused just before leaving the common room.

“And, uh, don’t worry about Ron too much. He’ll come around. He’ll just need some time.”

“Thanks, Seamus,” Harry answered. “That means a lot.”

“Thank you,” Hermione echoed.

Seamus nodded and left for breakfast. Harry turned back to Hermione.

“Speaking of Ron, I need to head down and try to smooth things over.”

“Don’t you think I should talk to him first?”

“Definitely not. His pride is pretty wounded now. I don’t think he’s ready for that yet. Besides, he and I have a truce of sorts going. At least, I think it’s still going…

“All right, Harry,” she said looking at her watch, “but I’ll give you ten minutes before I head down for breakfast. Ron or no Ron, I’m starving and if don’t go down to eat then, I’ll be late for class.”

“Okay, but if I can get him to talk, we may end up skiving off class, so don’t wait.”

“And if you can’t get him to talk?”

“Then I’ll drag it out of him during morning break.”

“All right.”

“One more thing, I think we should be careful how we act around him for a while. I don’t want to flaunt our relationship in front of him. We should sort of ease into it, you know? I don’t want him to think were rubbing it in.”

“I was going to suggest the same thing.”

“Well then, cross your fingers for me.” Harry said as he departed.

“Harry,” Hermione called before he got too far.

“Yeah, Hermione.”

“Ron’s not here, you know,” she teased.

“Yeah?” Harry responded quizzically.

“So, we don’t have to worry about Ron seeing us, do we?”

“No?” Harry questioned, still not catching on.

“Harry!” Hermione exclaimed, stamping her foot. “Most boyfriends kiss their girlfriends goodbye when they leave!”

“Oh!” Harry said stupidly. Thinking he had to make this kiss good after he’d been so dumb, he took a deep breath, gathered himself momentarily and strode purposely over to her. Harry grasped her waist with one hand, gently pulling her tight to his body. Raising his other hand to her blushing cheek, he caressed her soft skin as their eyes locked with one another.

Harry’s heart pounded out a rapid staccato against his rib cage and his stomach seemed to be trying to swallow itself whole. Praying that there were no other students waiting to leave Gryffindor tower, Harry leaned in, pressing his lips gently against hers. Hermione responded in kind, and the world melted away.

When Harry reflected on that first kiss with Hermione as he headed down to the Great Hall, he couldn’t remember any details of what it was like, but could only recall an overwhelming sense of joy and completion, of being exactly where he belonged. The best comparison he could ever make was the feeling he got when the lofty spires of Hogwart’s came into view after a long, painful summer with the Dursleys. And even that was feeble in comparison.

A/N: Next chapter will be the last. It will deal with the “Ron factor.”

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter. I am not fortunate enough to have come up with that idea.

A/N: First, I must apologize for taking so long to update. Time and inspiration have both been fleeting. On the other hand, this chapter ended up with a lot of content so I hope that compensates for the delay. Also, I am sorry for not taking this story in the direction I had originally planned. The way I wrote chapter one and subsequent the bit of rubbish that was the 2^nd chapter, I have forced myself to address the relationship issue between the trio more so than I had originally planned. I really wanted to focus on them dealing with the prophecy more. Maybe I just got cold feet about wading into that quagmire, but I feel I may have a retake on the prophecy ahead of me to correct my wayward ways. Anyway, as this story has morphed into some dribble about the Harry-Hermione-Ron love triangle (romance is not my strong suit), I will complete it.

Revealing the Prophecy – Chapter 3

Harry was so focused on trying to remember the details of his kiss with Hermione that he barely noted the strange looks and curious glances of his fellow students as he walked to the Great Hall. It wasn’t until he passed Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil returning from the Great Hall that he was brought crashing back down to reality.

“If your grin gets any bigger, Harry, it’s going to swallow your ears.” Lavender teased.

“Huh?” he started, wiping the smile off his face. “Oh, right.”

“Yeah Harry, you’re practically skipping down the steps,” Parvati giggled. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with what Seamus said, would it?”

The warm glow that had been comfortably residing in his chest fled and was instantly replaced with a cold agony that left Harry without air to breath.

“What do you mean ‘what Seamus said?’” he gasped.

Parvati and Lavender eyes darted towards one another, smiling mischievously.

“Oh come on, Harry,” Lavender said as if she were addressing a child. “You, Ron, and Hermione having a go in the common room over your little love triangle. It wasn’t the wisest of places to do it, was it? Half of Gryffindor was talking about it even before Seamus arrived.”

Harry felt the agony in his chest harden into a ball of despair. Without another word, he brushed past the girls, picturing Ron’s furious face as Seamus’ loose tongue let fly about Harry and Hermione. Lavender and Parvati cast a disgusted look at his retreating form as he descended the stairs, taking them two at a time.

Harry’s panic increased with each step as he approached the bottom of the stairs, culminating in him stumbling down the last few steps and leaving him sprawled out on the ground with a stinging wrist, torn pants, and scraped, bleeding knee. Several of the students in the Entrance Hall laughed, others asked in he was okay, but Harry ignored them all as he picked himself up off the ground. Forcing himself to calm down, Harry took a deep breath (he had needed a lot of these lately) and proceeded to hobble into the Great Hall.

Ron was sitting at the far end of the table away from the other Gryffindors, shoveling food into his mouth faster than Harry had ever seen him (and that is saying something). The sheer concentration on consuming large quantities of bacon and eggs and doing his best to avoid talking to or looking at anyone would have impressed even Hermione. It seemed he was eager to remove himself from the Great Hall as quickly as possible, breakfast not withstanding.

A few of the younger Gryffindors caught sight of Harry and began whispering to their neighbors. Several of the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws seemed to have gotten the news as well judging by the way many of them were staring unabashedly at Harry. He briefly caught Cho’s murderous stare before marveling at how fast gossip traveled at Hogwarts, but that was a thought for another time. He had to square things away with Ron before anything else.

Harry mustered what dignity he had given his dusty and bloodied appearance, and proceeded to walk down along the Gryffindor table so that he could sit facing Ron. Dean and Seamus, however, stopped Harry halfway down the table. Seamus gave Harry an appraising look.

“I thought things were good between you and Hermione. What did you say to her to make her do that to you?” Seamus asked, indicating Harry’s haggard appearance. Dean’s eyes widened as he caught onto Seamus’ reasoning.

“Her—, Hermione did that to you?” he said, not believing his own words. “I thought she liked you?”

Harry sighed and rolled his eyes.

“She does and she didn’t, I stumbled at the bottom of the stairs.”

Seamus and Dean looked at each other completely unconvinced.

“Best seeker Gryffindor has ever had on record and he trips at the bottom of the stairs? I don’t believe it.” Seamus said sarcastically.

“Seamus has got a point, Harry. Hermione’s as talented a witch as they come, there’s no shame in admitting she knocked you around a bit,” Dean said, oozing the same sarcasm that Seamus had.

“She didn’t—, oh, forget it!” Harry snapped as he started towards Ron again.

Seamus and Dean turned back to their meals chuckling merrily to themselves. To Harry’s dismay, he heard them mutter something about being ‘beaten by a girl,’ but chose to ignore it.

Apparently, the exchange with Seamus and Dean caught Ron’s attention and had drawn him out of his self-imposed exile. When Harry started towards him again, Ron began gathering some toast and strips of bacon into a napkin. Harry sped up as much as his knee would allow so that he could intercept Ron before he made it out of the Great Hall.

Ron cast a glance out of the corner of his eye at Harry before heading towards the doors leading out of the Great Hall. Harry knew he couldn’t make it around the end of the table and catch Ron before he left so he stopped where he was, waiting for Ron to approach. Ron seemed to realize that Harry wasn’t going to let him waltz by without a word.

“I don’t want to talk, Harry,” Ron called over the heads of the second years sitting at the table between them, his voice laced with tiredness. “Just give me some space.”

“I seem to recall making the same request last night, but that didn’t work either,” Harry retorted.

In answer, Ron just dropped his head and resumed his trek to the Entrance Hall.

“Ron!” Harry called. “Ron!” but Ron continued to ignore him.

Ignoring the pain in his knee, Harry dashed to catch up with Ron at the doors. “There’s more you need to know, Ron!”

Forced to deal with Harry, Ron stopped and truly considered Harry for the first time since he entered the Great Hall. As he saw Harry’s shabby condition, his look changed from confusion to anger.

“What happened? What did you say to her?” he snapped.

It was Harry’s turn to be confused.

“What?”

“What did you say her to make her do this?” he growled, gesturing at Harry’s ruined knee.

Harry’s sigh was audible.

“Nothing, Ron! I was rushing down the stairs and I stumbled.”

Ron’s relaxed a bit at this, but there was still an edge in his voice.

“Then what do I need to know?”

“Let’s talk outside. Between last night and this morning, I think we’ve had enough eavesdroppers lately.”

“Fine,” Ron answered shortly before turning and hastily exiting the Great Hall. Harry followed him as he made a straight line for the front doors to the castle. Harry glanced up the staircase leading to Gryffindor tower as he walked to see Hermione paused part way down. She gave Harry a reassuring smile and held his book bag in the air to show that she had retrieved it for him. He returned her smile and stuck out a thumb at Ron apologetically before turning to follow him out.

The autumn air was chill and hit Harry like a bucket of ice water. Ron’s anger seemed sufficient to warm him as he showed not so much as a shiver as he headed straight for the privacy of the lakefront. Harry did his best to keep up with Ron’s long strides, but could only, at best, remain a few steps behind him.

As soon as Ron reached the edge of the lake, he spun around planting his feet firmly and folding his arms across his chest imperiously.

“Well, let’s have it then.” His jaw was firmly set, causing Harry to groan inwardly.

Harry hadn’t really thought through what he wanted to say to Ron and fumbled as how best to deliver the news that he and Hermione were now an item. Unable to contain his nervous energy, Harry began pacing back and forth in front of Ron.

“Well… you see… Hermione and I talked some more after you, er… departed and well, you know how she is.”

“Yeah,” Ron huffed, his eyes narrowing.

“Anyway, she always seems to know best and worse yet, she knows what I’m thinking even better than I do. And, well, she said some really great things and I kinda had trouble saying no to her.” Harry stopped his pacing and looked up at Ron cautiously.

Ron’s arms dropped to his side, but his face was still held firm with his jaw tightening up even more so than it had before. He simply stared at Harry for several minutes before—

“WHAT THE BLOODY HELL DO YOU MEAN ‘YOU HAD TROUBLE SAYING NO TO HER’? WHAT ABOUT THE WHOLE ‘KEEPING YOUR EYE ON THE BALL’ THING?” Ron’s face contorted in rage. Harry stepped back a bit as Ron’s anger washed over him.

“I know I said that, but—”

“No buts, Harry! I can accept that Hermione likes you! I can accept that you like Hermione! What I can’t accept is that you told me you wouldn’t pursue anything with her. That you wouldn’t risk her life anymore than it already is. And now, you have a happy little chat with her and all of a sudden you’ve seen the light?”

Harry stood dumbfounded. He had expected a fit of jealousy from Ron; his usual cries of how wonderful it is to be Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, star seeker for Gryffindor house, media phenomenon who graces the Daily Prophet gossip columns, and the guy who stole Hermione’s heart. What he got instead was—

“You may be trading her life for your own selfish happiness.” Ron spat as he stomped off towards the castle.

Harry was speechless. His mind fought to resolve the churning anger with the overwhelming guilt he felt as Ron’s harsh words cut to the bone. Despite Hermione’s ability to convince him that there was no increased risk to her and that their being together would be an advantage, Ron had single handedly destroyed Harry’s confidence, dragging Harry’s paranoia to the surface.

Harry watched Ron return to the castle without leaving the lake’s edge. He finally passed through the doors to the castle, leaving one ajar. Harry stared at the darkness of that space for a few moments when another figure appeared in the doorway, waiting. Stifling his anger and guilt, Harry trekked back up to the castle entrance, joining Hermione at the entrance to the castle.

Hermione studied Harry’s dark features for a moment before speaking.

“So I guess working on Snape’s essay during morning break is off?” she tested.

Harry attempted to smile at her, but it only came out as a cringe.

“Yeah, things didn’t go so well.” Harry answered sinking to the steps and crossing his arms over his knees. He stared off at the lake with Ron’s final words ringing in his mind. ‘You may be trading her life for your own selfish happiness.’

Hermione sat down next to him placing their book bags to the side. She put her arm around him, resting her elbow on his back as she played with the hair at the nape of his neck.

“What did he say?” she queried.

“Nothing I didn’t already know. It just hits a little harder when you hear someone else say it.”

“What did he say?” she repeated earnestly. Harry noted the tenseness in her voice

“Don’t worry about it,” he said rising. “Ron and I will square things away later.”

Hermione wasn’t convinced, “Will you?” she asked arching an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” Harry said, helping her to her feet. “C’mon we’ll be late for Herbology.”

Hermione handed Harry his book bag and took his hand in hers. Harry took comfort in her reassuring contact. They walked in silence to the greenhouses, Hermione stealing quick, worried little glances at Harry. Harry let her lead him and focused his thoughts on how to convince Ron when he wasn’t fully convinced himself.

Herbology was a difficult affair. Ron arrived after Hermione and Harry and made a point of joining Hannah Abbott and Ernie McMillan instead of taking his usual spot with Harry and Hermione. The normally lively class was subdued as all of the students watched with rapt attention to the silent, but fervent drama unfolding amongst the three Gryffindors.

The bell signaling the end of class rang after an agonizingly long time and Harry watched sadly as Ron all but sprinted from the classroom. Hermione was frowning at his hasty departure as well.

“Double Potions next, I guess that can’t be any worse, right?” Hermione said sarcastically.

“At least Ron’s not taking Potions anymore. Snape won’t have to opportunity to make this worse that it already is.” Harry quipped. “C’mon.”

Harry and Hermione walked in silence to the dungeons, each lost in their own thoughts. Advanced Potions turned out to another exercise in patience as Snape was predictably, well, Snape. Fortunately, though, Malfoy and the other Slytherins hadn’t yet gotten wind of the friction brewing between Harry, Ron, and Hermione and they only had to endure Malfoy’s usual taunts.

Emerging from Potions, Harry spent the first half of morning break hunting for Ron, but was unable to locate him anywhere and spent the remainder of his time in the Gryffindor common room frantically patching together Snape’s essay so he could hand it in by five ‘o’ clock while Hermione monitored his progress and knitted hats for the house elves.

As morning break dwindled away, Hermione seemed to grow more and more agitated. Her comments on Harry’s essay were progressively more scathing and her knitting needles began to tear through the air at an alarming rate. The click of her needles became so loud and frequent that Harry was no longer able to concentrate.

“Hermione!” Harry barked.

“What!”

“What’s the problem here?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” she said without looking up.

Harry didn’t think it was possible that her needles could have moved any faster, but after this comment, they became a blur.

“You’re going to put your eye out with those things if you keep this up,” Harry said.

Hermione stopped knitting, dropping her work into her lap. She dropped her gaze and began studying her handiwork. With no comments forthcoming, Harry continued.

“I assume this is about Ron?”

“It is,” she said softly, still not looking up.

Harry put aside his Potions essay and slid his chair closer to her.

“Tell me what’s on your mind,” he prompted.

Hermione looked up slowly and regarded his emerald eyes. Seeing no malice there, she continued.

“I really think I should be the one to talk to Ron.”

Harry sat there in silence for several moments staring at his shoes while considering her words. After what Ron had said at the lake, he thought she might have a point. He heard Ron’s voice echo in his head, ‘You may be trading her life for your own selfish happiness.’

“Harry?” Hermione questioned, pulling his chin gently up until their eyes met. Apparently, his dark thoughts were reflected there because her face quickly became lined with concern.

“What is it?” she asked anxiously.

“You’re right. You should talk to him. I can’t say what he needs to hear.”

“This has to do with what he said at the lake, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Harry muttered, Ron’s words reverberating again in his mind.

“Harry, please tell me what he said.”

“He has the same worries I do.”

Hermione nodded her head in understanding, “I thought we settled this.”

“We did. And everything you said made sense, but so does what Ron said,” he countered. “I couldn’t forgive myself if you get hurt again because of me.”

“I won’t Harry,” she said clasping his hands in hers, sliding off her chair and kneeling at his feet. “But you need to understand too, that I couldn’t forgive myself either if I wasn’t by your side when you confront him. All I ask, Harry, is that you let me share the burden thrust on your shoulders.”

Harry hadn’t really considered her perspective beyond her romantic feelings toward him. She was merely asking to be his equal in this relationship, not some silly damsel in distress to be doted upon.

“How do you do that?” he asked, a grateful smile finding its way onto his face.

“How do I do what?” she responded innocently.

“How do you drive away all my fears with the simplest words?”

“It’s a gift,” she answered with a laugh, rising to her feet and tugging him up with her. “Now, how many times am I going to have to convince you before you stop trying to dump me?” she asked in mock hurt.

“Depends on how you plan on convincing me…” he said with a mischievous grin.

“Well, you just sunk your ship there, Potter,” she retorted in a falsely angry voice. “C’mon, we need to get to Care of Magical Creatures.”

Hermione left to retrieve her book bag from her dorm room while Harry gathered up his books and quills. Harry was stuffing the last of his supplies into his bag when Hermione returned. They headed out the portal as Harry fought a battle with himself over whether or not to hold Hermione’s hand. He missed the touch of her hand in his, but he knew that Ron should be on the way back to Gryffindor tower to collect his stuff for class and didn’t want to make things worse than they already were with Ron.

Hermione, it seemed did not share his concerns and snatched up Harry’s hand before Harry could make up his mind. The simplicity of her touch was exactly what his body needed. His head, however, had a different opinion.

“Hermione,” he began. “Ron should be heading back this way any moment now, shouldn’t we, erm, keep a low profile?” He nodded indicated their hands.

“Harry, I may not get to see you alone until after Quidditch tonight. I don’t think a little hand-holding will hurt Ron too much. It’s not like he’s catching us snogging madly in a broom closet.”

“Broom closet, eh?” Harry said, contemplating the notion. That earned him a punch from Hermione’s free hand.

“Okay, perhaps not,” Harry laughed, “but what about dinner? I was kind of toying with the idea that we’d just grab something from the Great Hall and head out to the lake for a quiet dinner alone.”

“Mmm, that sounds really nice, Harry, but I should probably talk to Ron before you guys have Quidditch practice. That’ll likely eat up our dinner hour.” Harry looked disappointed, but knew she was right, as usual. Quidditch would prove to be a painful experience if Ron was still angry.

“A rain check then?” he asked.

“Definitely.”

They reached Hagrid’s cabin and joined the rest of the students milling around the edge of the forest. Ron arrived about ten minutes into the start of class, puffing heavily from running from the castle. His and Harry’s eyes met for a moment before Ron resolutely turned to gaze intently at Hagrid, although Harry was certain Ron was thinking about Hagrid’s lecture about as much as he was.

Care of Magical Creatures continued in much the same fashion as Herbology with Ron being the first one to leave class, but he marched off heavily instead of dashing to leave. Defense Against the Dark Arts was more of the same, but Harry got the impression that Ron was a little looser, but that may have just been the fact that Ron was able to exercise his frustrations through his wand.

As the class was dismissed, Hermione gave Harry a trepid smile and a whispered goodbye before rushing off to chase Ron down. Harry followed at a distance eager to have any indication of how things were going. Predictably, things appeared to get heated quickly. Harry couldn’t make out exactly what they were saying, but Ron was gesturing wildly and Hermione seemed to be walking a little stiffer.

Unfortunately, the walk from the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom to Entrance Hall was fairly short and he had to give up the pursuit since he couldn’t follow them any further without being obvious. With a sigh, he plodded up the stairs to Gryffindor tower trying to comfort himself with the knowledge that Hermione always seemed to know best, but a dissenting voice in the back of his head told him that Hermione never seemed to handle Ron well.

Harry dumped his books on his bed and headed down to the Great Hall for dinner. He ate quickly hoping to get Hermione’s version of her “discussion” with Ron before encountering him alone. Harry kept his eyes peeled as he made his way back to Gryffindor tower. He didn’t see either of them and quickly wrapped up the final bits of his Potions essay in the common room before going to turn it in to Snape (not without a few nasty comments). He returned to Gryffindor tower and was changed for Quidditch practice when he began pacing the common room. His brow knitted in anxiety when it was Katie Bell and not Hermione who appeared in the portrait hole.

“Quite the gentlemen aren’t you Harry?” she teased, “waiting to escort me to the pitch and all.”

Harry smiled despite his worries over how long Hermione and Ron were taking. Fortunately, as the Gryffindor seeker, he practiced somewhat independently from the rest of the team. He didn’t want to imagine the misery of practice were he a chaser trying to score on an upset Ron.

Katie ran upstairs and changed for practice and still neither Hermione nor Ron showed up. Katie returned and drug Harry from the common room despite his best stalling efforts. They made their way down to the Quidditch pitch and Harry gave in to debating Gryffindor’s prospects against the other house teams. The rest of the team followed shortly and yet again Ron was last getting there. Without a look or word to Harry, Ron mounted his broom and was soon ferociously saving quaffles left and right from Ginny and Katie. Harry sighed heavily to himself and made his way over to the ball chest to retrieve the snitch.

Several minutes later, Harry was well above the half-pitch practice positioning himself above the snitch so he could work out some of the finer points of a new dive he had been waiting to try out. Harry had just initiated his dive when he heard two unmistakable cracks of a beater bat on a bludger in rapid succession, but they hadn’t released the bludgers yet, had they?

Harry had to twist awkwardly to avoid the bludgers without getting hit. He pulled out of his dive to see both bludgers strike Ginny in the forearm and hip simultaneously, sending her careening dangerously from her broom. Fortunately, she was flying low and didn’t have far to fall. She hit the ground hard with a loud thump before coming to rest in a heap near the base of the goal posts. Ron dove hard and was first to Ginny, landing roughly with Harry not far behind. The rest of the team was investigating the source of the bludgers or corralling the two offending balls.

“Ginny, are you all right?” Ron croaked. She winced as he inspected her arm.

“I think I sprained my wrist,” she said, her voice shaky, “and I don’t think my leg will support me yet.

“Let’s get her up to Madam Pomphrey,” Harry said as he and Ron helped Ginny to her feet. Each boy placed one of her arms over their shoulders and began walking her to the castle.

Katie touched down gently next to them.

“I caught a glimpse of who hit the bludgers right before Ginny was hit. It was Malfoy and Goyle… or Crabbe. Actually, I can’t really tell the two of them apart so I can’t be sure which it was.”

“Goyle’s the one that looks like an ape,” Ron said, but Katie still seemed confused as to who was who.

“Anyway,” she continued, “they disappeared before we could catch up with them. We’ll have to go talk to McGonagall.”

“You guys go talk to McGonagall,” Harry said, “Ron and I will take Ginny up to the hospital wing.”

Ron, Ginny, and Harry made their way to the hospital wing in silence. Harry was careful to hold her by the elbow so as not to make her forearm injury worse. After an agonizing ten minute walk, they arrived and laid Ginny in the nearest bed. Ron left to get Madam Pomphrey; Harry stayed with Ginny.

“How’re you holding up Gin?” Harry inquired.

“Better, now that I’m off my feet,” she answered.

“Good. Madam Pomphrey will have you walking out of here tonight. She’s had me turning cartwheels after worse than this.”

Ginny looked up at Harry with a curious expression. “I’ll be fine, Harry. What about you and Ron? You two seemed unusually quiet on the way up here.”

Harry looked at her somewhat guiltily. “Yeah, we have some issues to work out.”

“Is he still on about Hermione?” Ginny sighed.

Harry nodded as the clink of potion vials announced the arrival of Ron and Madam Pomphrey. Harry and Ron stood back on either side of Ginny’s bed to allow Madam Pomphrey to inspect Ginny. Madam Pomphrey huffed all the while about dangerous sports and foolishness of adding bludgers to the already ridiculous game of Quidditch. Harry was used to this due to his many visits over the years, but Ginny seemed to building up a head of steam. Harry knew that Ginny wouldn’t blow up at Madam Pomphrey and suspected that Ginny’s previous comments did not bode well for Ron. Finally satisfied that Ginny did not have any significant damage, Madam Pomphrey selected a few bottles from the selection Ron had brought over and measured out dosages of each.

“Drink these,” she ordered, “and I will check on you in a couple hours to see how you are doing.” Madam Pomphrey sidled by Ron and returned to her office. Ginny seemed to be eager for her to leave. She pounded each of the potions in rapid succession, grimacing at the taste of the last one. Ron sat down on her bed.

“You all right, Gin?”

“I’ll be fine,” she snapped. “But, you need to get over yourself.”

This caught Ron off guard. Harry winced and took an unconscious step back.

“Wh—, wha—, what are you talking about?” Ron sputtered.

“Harry and Hermione, that’s what!” Harry let his head sag. Why did all the women in his life insist on interfering?

Harry saw Ron’s jaw set and knew a spectacular row was brewing between the two fiery siblings. He decided he’d better defuse this bomb before it takes out the whole hospital wing.

“Ginny, don’t worry about this. Ron and I will settle this another time.”

“No Harry, I will worry about this!” she roared as Harry took another, very conscious step back. “Ron is being a prat and he knows it.” Ron stood up to his full, considerable height glaring daggers at Ginny.

“I don’t need you lecturing me too, Ginny,” he said coldly and turned storming for the door.

“Ronald Weasley!” Ginny shouted at his back,” you will come back right now and hear me out!”

When Ron didn’t respond, Ginny stuffed her hand into her robes producing her wand.

“Accio,” she bellowed, summoning Ron off his feet and unceremoniously dropping him onto Ginny bed. Harry dove to the ground to avoid being knocked over and Ginny had fortunately tugged her bad ankle out of the way right before Ron landed. Harry picked himself up not knowing what to think, Ginny was now dangerously calm, and Ron was dumbfounded.

“Listen to me, Ron.” Ginny seethed. “Hermione and Harry are perfect for each other. I realized that last year, you need to let it go.” Ron dropped his gaze.

“It’s not that,” he said softly.

“Then what is it?’ she demanded. Ron paused before answering.

“Vv—, Vv—, You-Know-Who will use her against Harry. “She will die because of him” he said glaring at Harry. Ginny erupted into laughter drawing a shocked look from both Harry and Ron.

“Are you kidding me? Can you name one witch that can hold a candle to Hermione? If Harry can fight Voldemort to a standstill time and time again, I am certain that Hermione will be just fine.”

Harry was still trying to understand why he was insulted by this statement when Ron started laughing too.

“I hadn’t thought of it that way,” Ron admitted staring at Harry.

“What way?” Harry asked, not liking the way this conversation was turning.

“Oh come on, Harry.” Ginny gasped in-between laughs. “You’re an amazingly talented wizard, but, I’m sorry, Hermione could take you any day of the week.” Harry was getting a little more than miffed at people saying stuff like this all day long. Ron was clutching his sides and nearly crying at the look on Harry’s face.

“You really think… you could take her… don’t you?” he sputtered.

Harry knew Ron and Ginny may well have been right, but his fragile male ego wouldn’t let him admit it aloud. With a huff, he turned on his heel and left the hospital wing, ignoring Ron and Ginny’s calls.

Ron caught up with Harry in the hallway, still grinning. “Harry, I didn’t mean to laugh at you. Honestly. But after what Ginny said, I had this vision of you and Hermione dueling and, well… let’s just say that Hermione knows quite a few, er—, unique spells.”

“Glad I could bring you some entertainment,” Harry said dryly, turning to leave again.

“Wait,” Ron said turning serious as he caught Harry by the arm. “What Ginny said is important, though. I was always worried that you wouldn’t be able to protect Hermione. But what Ginny said made me realize that it’s likely going to be Hermione protecting you.”

Harry was still smarting from being considered a distant second to Hermione. He thought he had, at least, a fighting chance considering all the things he had accomplished. And, after a moment’s consideration of this, his focused shifted to Ron’s acceptance of his new relationship with Hermione.

“So you’re okay with me dating Hermione?” he asked.

A hurt look flashed across Ron’s face for moment before he spoke.

“I won’t lie, Harry. I hoped she would choose me, but I can’t say that I wasn’t surprised she chose you. I guess that’s why I waited so long ask her out in the first place.”

Harry brightened some at Ron’s words.

“I’m sorry I lied to you before,” he responded apologetically, “but I really didn’t plan on going out with Hermione at the time. I guess I should ask her what my opinion will be in the future.”

“Now that is one aspect of Hermione I don’t envy you for.” Ron grinned.

“Yeah, it’s gonna be a challenge,” Harry smirked.

“Well, I’m gonna go check on Ginny. I’ll catch you up later.” Harry nodded and headed back to Gryffindor tower. He found Hermione sitting glumly in the same corner she was sitting in when she overheard his and Ron’s conversation the night before. She leapt to her feet and scrambled across the common room to meet him.

“I’m so sorry, Harry,” she said quickly. “I tried talking to Ron, but he can so thick sometimes. He won’t listen to a thing you say and—,”

“Hermione,” Harry interrupted, “its okay. Everything’s going to be fine. Ginny had a rather, er, colorful way of convincing Ron that things will be okay.”

“Colorful?” Hermione asked vaguely. “What do you mean colorful?”

Harry felt his face redden with embarrassment and wouldn’t look Hermione in the eye.

“It’s…, er, nothing. Things are all better now and that’s what matters. I am going to go get changed,” he said quickly moving towards the stairs to the boys’ dormitories.

“Hold on Harry,” she said with an amused smile. “Just what did Ginny say?”

Harry sighed and related the details of their discussion in the hospital wing. Harry hoped (prayed was more like it) that Hermione would downplay her considerable dueling ability.

“Well, they’re just being ridiculous,” she said. Harry relaxed at first, but something about her tone made Harry think she didn’t really think they were being ridiculous and he tensed up again. He stared at her for a moment before—

“Do you have your wand?” he asked sternly.

“Oh come off it, Harry,” she sighed. “I’m not going to duel you.”

“Scared?” Harry taunted.

“Of course not. I’m a Gryffindor after all,” she retaliated.

“Good, then get your wand. I’ll meet you in the Room of Requirement.” Without another word he turned and marched right back out the portrait hole.

Hermione stared at the exit to the common room for a moment before grabbing her wand. “Boys,” she huffed and marched off after Harry.

A/N: That’s the end. I leave it up to you as to what the outcome of the duel was. I hope you enjoyed this story. Please review. All feedback welcome! Thanks!