Chapter 58Chapter TextThe already familiar door to the Room of Requirement swung open invitingly before them, admitting Harry and Hermione into a space that, this time, resembled a sunlit classroom with four rows of desks, high ceilings, and lancet-shaped windows overlooking the lake adjoining the castle.
Since Harry hadn't wished for anything of the sort, he supposed it was a reflection of Hermione's desires, and confirming his suspicions, she immediately dragged him to the centre of the room. Excess furniture sprang out of their path, arranging itself in neat rows along the walls and thereby giving them clear space.
"Hit me," Hermione demanded without preamble.
"Huh?" Harry's eyebrows shot up as she stood ten paces opposite him and drew her vine wand with a most serious expression.
"I want you to attack me with magic," she explained in response to his astonishment.
"But why?"
"I want to test something."
Though Harry still didn't quite understand what she was planning, he had long learned not to argue with his friend, who always thought ten steps ahead of everyone else, including himself.
Drawing his holly wand from his sleeve, he twirled it between his fingers, feeling the gentle warmth emanating from it and the familiar roughness of the handle. He desperately tried to recall some harmless spell…
"Well?" Hermione shifted impatiently from foot to foot.
"Right… alright," still not particularly confident this was a good idea, he nevertheless made a flourish and commanded: "Expelliarmus!"
A stream of magical energy erupted from the tip of his magic weapon and struck Hermione, causing her to lose her balance and fall backwards. Swept by the attack, she flew several metres, nearly hitting the back of her head on the desks, and at that same moment her own wand flew from her fingers and travelled through the air to Harry, who caught it instinctively.
"Hermione!" he was already running towards her, frightened that he might have accidentally seriously injured her.
He definitely hadn't intended to put so much force into the spell! Honestly! It just happened… somehow on its own.
"Oof…" Hermione sat up awkwardly, rubbing her bruised elbow.
"Are you hurt?!"
She silently extended her hand with an open palm, and Harry immediately returned her wand, then helped her back to her feet.
"That's odd…" she muttered, thoughtfully chewing the inside of her cheek.
"What's odd?"
Hermione didn't answer. Instead, she made Harry return to the starting position.
"Let's go again."
He was about to protest, not wanting to harm her in any way, but… well, Hermione would hardly have started all this for no reason, would she?
Although it had been very brief, and in the chaos it was difficult to say anything with certainty, Harry had also noticed that strange golden glow around them that had appeared during the explosion in the Potions classroom.
This, plus the fact that only the two of them had remained completely unharmed, while many of their classmates had been scalded to the bone, surely had some connection.
"Alright," Harry straightened up and raised his wand again, looking at Hermione's serious face. "Ready?"
Waiting for her nod, he twisted an elaborate pretzel in the air and shouted:
"Tarantallegra!"
The room flashed lilac – and immediately Hermione's legs began to perform a lively Riverdance against her will. This continued for almost three minutes, until one of them thought to use Finite.
"So… huff… This doesn't seem to be working," Hermione panted from the sudden exercise, tossing her dishevelled hair back over her shoulders.
Nevertheless, for the sake of statistics, she made him use about ten different curses on her one after another – alas, all with the same result. After that, they switched roles, and then it was Harry who had to systematically fall on his arse, crow like a rooster, rise to the ceiling, and tap dance.
For some reason, they never managed to summon that shield or whatever it was that had saved them from being forced back into the Hospital Wing.
"Perhaps all these spells simply aren't powerful enough…" Hermione continued thinking aloud, unconsciously tugging at one of her long springy curls as she paced back and forth.
"I'm not going to use Bombarda on you," Harry warned, knowing how stubborn she could be and how she loved to take things to their conclusion.
He had already noticed this trait in her, when her "perfect student" nature temporarily receded to the background when it came to pursuing new knowledge. Hermione truly hated not knowing something. If there was some mystery before her, she would usually grab hold of it and didn't stop until she had solved it completely, meticulously breaking it down into its component parts and documenting every tiny detail on some enormously long scroll. In this respect, she differed little from a maniac (or a Ravenclaw student during exams), which Harry found both endearing and slightly alarming.
However, he would not send a blasting spell at his girlfriend under any circumstances, even if she asked him to.
"…or perhaps it's that we're trying to use them on each other," Hermione finished the thought, ignoring him. "Hmm… That makes sense, if you think about it. Yes… That must be it."
A deep, defeated sigh escaped her chest, after which she declared:
"I think, for the purity of the experiment, we need a third person."
"Ron?" Harry suggested immediately with hope, but she shook her head.
"No. If we ask him, he'll definitely start asking questions and, eventually, figure everything out."
"Well, we could tell him… something."
"Like what?" she crossed her arms on her chest, staring at him intently.
"Like… well… the truth?"
"Harry…"
"I mean, that it's a consequence of the Ritual!" he explained hastily. "Some kind of the Potter family protection or whatever."
"We're not…" she hesitated, then slowly said: "Actually, that makes sense."
"Wow. That was… unexpected."
"See!" Harry seized upon it, not intending to look a gift horse in the mouth. "Ron already knows about the Ritual, and he knows it was necessary for your protection. So he definitely won't find it strange. And we can't avoid him forever, otherwise that would really be strange. Seriously, Hermione! You said yourself we need a third."
Since she still hesitated to answer, torn between the fear of being discovered and the undeniable logic in his words, Harry decided to cheat a little. Approaching closer, he took her hands in his, gently stroking the backs of her palms with his thumbs and looking devotedly into her face with his large, sad green eyes, while slightly sticking out his lower lip. Some time ago, he had noticed how this affected her, and had been waiting for an opportunity to try his new "weapon" in action.
"Will it work or won't it work…"
"Harry, I don't know…"
"Oh, come on! We haven't all hung out together in ages. And we won't even have to lie to him about anything!"
"You…" began Hermione, but then sighed heavily again: "Fine. You win. I agree to call Ron… but," she raised her hand with an open palm, "we won't tell him anything about the marriage… or anything else. He should think it's all about Potter protection."
"Agreed. I won't tell him anything, I promise!"
"Hmph…"
Wanting to erase the expression of scepticism from her face, Harry pulled her towards him, so their noses almost touched.
"I know what you're trying to do here, Harry James Potter," Hermione grumbled, though there was no real irritation in her tone.
"Want to kiss my beautiful girlfriend?" he smiled slyly, already almost tasting her lips on his, they were so close. "If she doesn't mind."
"Hm…"
"Does that mean 'yes'?"
"Yes. Kiss me."
Putting his arm around Hermione's shoulders, he let his mouth cover hers, immediately slipping his tongue inside because he wanted so badly to taste her again. Fortunately for him, Hermione seemed to have missed him just as much, because she responded just as passionately, attaching herself to him with the enthusiasm of a leech (a very attractive, thick-haired, pleasantly scented, and hot leech, of course). Her fingers deftly removed his glasses, which were in the way, and then clutched the lapels of his robe on his chest, holding him in place without any particular need.
Kissing and groping Hermione in the Room of Requirement in the middle of a school day, Harry couldn't shake the underlying guilt he felt about enjoying the absence of lessons today. It was as if he were rejoicing in an accident or something… On the other hand, it wasn't his fault that the idiot Malfoy had decided to set off a local nuclear explosion! It would be foolish not to take advantage of the opportunity to be alone with Hermione now.
Harry tried to push the extraneous thoughts from his head, refocusing on the sensation of the soft, trembling girlish body pressed tightly against his torso.
"Mmm… I've missed you…" he mumbled indistinctly between the moments when his lips slid wetly against Hermione's, meeting hers with a loud smacking sound.
"I've missed you too…"
After almost a whole week of forced abstinence, their hormone-fuelled teenage bodies were literally melting where they touched, and the level of arousal was growing exponentially. As many times before, very soon they wanted more than just kisses.
It wasn't even five minutes before Harry once again found himself being insistently pulled somewhere.
"Do you want… right here?" he asked, already slightly breathless, when Hermione simply sank to the floor, onto a mattress that had appeared from nowhere.
"Yes!"
Her cheeks were flushed, and her lips were dark and swollen. Her brown eyes burned brightly as she literally devoured him with her gaze.
"She wants me!" This thought was still like a lightning strike, but it also made Harry tremble even more with his own reciprocal desire.
His instantly hardened member pressed uncomfortably against his fly, engorged with blood and pulsing in anticipation, while his brain, on the contrary, was rapidly losing ground, giving way to much more primitive basic settings.
"Are you coming or not?"
Realising that he was frozen at the sight of an aroused Hermione, Harry shook his head and moved towards her. He wisely didn't argue about the "sleeping place", but simply shed his school uniform onto the floor, while Hermione, in exactly the same haste, got rid of her numerous clothes.
And now, finally, they were naked together again – skin to skin, tense and thirsty, completely open to each other. Their wet, lust-swollen genitals touched superficially, causing a current to run down both their spines.
"O-oh…"
They moaned loudly simultaneously when Harry's penis entered Hermione's vagina without unnecessary ceremony. Her nails dug into his shoulder blades, urging him to start moving immediately, and Harry saw no reason to refuse her this.
"Faster… Please, Harry…"
Today she clearly wasn't going to just lie there passively, instead actively bucking her hips against him as he made deep, powerful thrusts, fucking her dripping, hot pussy that he loved so much.
"Faster, Harry…"
Leaning on his hands, he changed the angle slightly and began to move more actively, completely depriving Hermione of the ability to speak normally for several minutes.
She was so beautiful under him – with flushed cheeks and an open mouth, catching her breath between moans and incoherent babbling that sounded to his ears like music.
"Aah… a-aah…"
Her pussy was still incredibly tight and gripped Harry's cock with every thrust in the best possible way, while he slid easily inside her thanks to all the lubricant abundantly flowing from inside her beautiful body.
She was so wet… always so wet and ready for him…
"Harry… ah! Harry!.."
Changing position again, he fell upon Hermione, pressing her with all his weight, pushing her knees apart as far as they would go. His tongue once again burst into her mouth, muffling her moans, and began to dart about in a random caress, while his hips continued to make sharp thrusts inside her narrow little vagina.
"Mmm… Mmm-mmm…"
He was so close… so close to cumming inside her…
"A-a-aah…!" he groaned hoarsely and drawn-out as his hips convulsively jerked, pressing into Hermione's crotch, and his member shot a stream of sperm.
Hermione squeaked something under him, but her words were drowned in the roar of blood in his ears as he continued to cum inside her, shaking with pleasure.
He thrust once, twice and froze like that, breathing hoarsely, while his balls and cock still twitched, ejecting the last drops. Sweet languor was already spreading throughout his body…
"Harry!"
"Mmm?"
"Damn it…"
He propped himself up on his elbows, lazily opening his eyes and immediately encountering Hermione's angry face.
"Oops."
"Oops?" she mimicked him. "Seriously, Harry? Oops? Is that all you can say?"
"Oh dear."
His cheeks flushed with shame, so he hurriedly rolled off her.
"You didn't cum, did you?"
An annoyed sigh and rolled eyes told him everything he needed to know, so Harry became even more embarrassed.
Why was he constantly such an inattentive arsehole?
Wanting to make up for his mistake, he reached towards Hermione's crotch with his fingers, while looking ingratiatingly into her eyes:
"May I?"
She nodded and fell back on her back, giving herself completely into his hands – literally.
Fingering was something Harry had already learned to handle more or less, so he had no great difficulty in bringing his partner back into the right mood. Finding the prominent pea of Hermione's clitoris, he began to gently move his middle finger in circular motions over it, carefully watching her reaction.
As soon as her breathing again became difficult and her eyes began to glaze over, he decided it was time to move on to more decisive actions and slid down the mattress, positioning himself between her legs.
"May I… mmm… taste you?" he whispered, hovering a couple of centimetres from her exposed pussy.
Although he was almost certain of an affirmative answer, he liked to tease Hermione a little. He also secretly adored it when she asked, begged and sometimes even demanded, that he fuck her. At such moments he was ready to do anything for her. Anything she might wish for.
"Yes," Hermione responded just as quietly.
Getting the green light, Harry immediately pressed his mouth to her flowing flesh, sucking in everything he could capture, causing Hermione's breathing to falter and her hips to jerk upwards on their own.
"Salty…"
Unlike the last time, when he didn't yet know what to expect, now Harry was genuinely happy to immerse himself in this sensation. Hermione's taste completely flooded his tongue, spreading across his receptors like some exotic foreign dish that he had only recently had the pleasure of trying.
Now, his own sharp, tangy flavour was also mixed in, though it was quite easy to ignore against the backdrop of the rest of the flow, seeping abundantly from the vagina of his very aroused, desperate-for-release girlfriend.
Besides, tasting your own semen isn't the same as tasting urine, is it? It was just his seed… The same he'd left inside Hermione what seemed like countless times. The very thing that had conceived a child in her womb and finally stopped the curse of the Ritual…
"Not now. I won't think about it now," he abruptly pushed the thought of the child to the farthest corner of his mind. The last thing he needed at that moment was to kill the mood and ruin everything…
So, if Hermione wasn't squeamish about taking his cum inside her, then Harry shouldn't be squeamish about tasting it either.
He began to move his tongue up and down again, diligently licking Hermione's slippery pink slit, not forgetting to also make periodic sucking movements with his lips over her clitoris. His jaw didn't remain idle either, moving evenly until he got used to it enough to begin eating her in earnest.
He tried not to venture down to the star of her little pink anus, not yet mentally prepared for such experiments, although he couldn't help but note how innocent and sweet it looked, completely covered in Hermione's liquid arousal.
"Fuck, even her arse is cute," Harry snorted with laughter and nearly choked, which was particularly funny, given what he was currently occupied with.
"Harry… ah… Harry!.." His name, shouted by her voice hoarse with arousal, sent thousands of tiny charges directly to his groin.
His penis was still soft and small for now, but Harry knew this wouldn't last very long. Not with Hermione's pussy, abundantly dripping into his mouth.
Listening as she moaned louder and more desperately under him, literally melting into a puddle of pure lust and desperately offering herself to him like a cat in heat, Harry couldn't imagine a better reward than being here now, with her, satisfying her every wild need.
It was a pity, of course, that she hadn't cum with him, because he really liked it when they managed to do it simultaneously… but he could still bring Hermione to orgasm with his mouth.
Last time she seemed to like it very much, despite the fact that Harry had no experience… He wondered how much she'll go crazy now if he tries to be even more assertive?
What if he were to suck on her clit while simultaneously inserting a finger into her? Or even two? What would happen if he tried to insert three fingers at once?
"Steady on. You don't want to make it unpleasant for her," Harry cut off his fantasy.
Hermione might enjoy it when he fucked her a bit rougher with his cock, especially at the peak of passion, but that doesn't mean she didn't also need sensitivity and tenderness. She was both eager and fragile simultaneously, and he should keep that in mind if he didn't want to hurt her.
"Slowly and delicately…"
There was no particular need to rush – no one would look for them until dinner, as all their classmates were absent from the dormitory, and the prefects and the ever-busy dean would hardly notice another "missing" couple of students.
He and Hermione had all the time and opportunity for exploration…
"Hermione?"
"Mmm…"
"I want to try something, alright?"
"M-hm…"
Even if in her heated state she didn't fully understand his question, Harry wasn't planning to stop. He was almost one hundred percent sure she would like it. Women described in sex magazines definitely liked such things…
He played with Hermione's cunt a bit more, teasing her soft labia with his tongue until he was certain she was relaxed enough and open for the next step.
"You're so beautiful down here," he said honestly before leaving a kiss directly on her clit.
"Haryyyy…" she moaned, raising her arse higher.
She wanted more. Of course, she wanted even more, his sweet, sweet Hermione… Even if at this moment she was completely sodden with desire and didn't know how to properly tell him in words, he understood.
He wasn't going to torment her longer than necessary.
Gently and carefully, with one smooth motion, he inserted his middle finger into her to its full length and heard her take a deep breath.
"Relax…"
Waiting until she lowered her buttocks back onto the mattress and pulled her knees higher, Harry began thrusting movements with his hand inside her tight walls without any fuss.
In and out… in and out…
Soon he realised that one finger was too little, so he added his ring finger to the middle one. Things went better with this, especially when he turned his wrist so that the pads of his fingers were right under Hermione's pubic bone.
Fragmented memories of articles he'd read about how to properly satisfy a woman with your hands popped into his head. There was something about some special places… or points, but Harry didn't remember it very well, so he just decided to follow his intuition.
"Tasty…" he murmured into her pussy, greedily latching onto her clit as if it were a nipple on her breast, and accelerated the movement of his hand.
"A-a-ah!"
Without ceasing to suck and torturing her with his tongue, he quickly escalated the pace, fucking her with his fingers so forcefully that her transparent lubrication very quickly turned into white foam. With his other hand, he had to hold Hermione by her thigh, forcing her to remain in a lying position, because she herself was obviously no longer able to control her body at all.
At some point, he seemed to manage to hit some special spot inside her, because she suddenly shrieked and arched so strongly that he had to almost force her back into place.
"Interesting…"
He tried to touch her there again, slightly bending his fingers, and after five or six attempts, he really managed to repeat it, and then again and again, with varying success, but now Hermione was already kicking about like crazy, on the verge of coming, so he had to slow down for a while.
Slick, slick, slick…
His right hand, lips, and chin were completely covered in sticky lubrication that squelched loudly in Hermione's groin as he thrust and sucked with steady precision, managing to keep her on the edge for long minutes.
From the effort, his jaw was already quite sore, and his fingers were somewhat numb, so however much he wanted to prolong this little experiment for as long as possible, Harry knew his own capabilities weren't infinite either.
But he simply couldn't stop. If he broke off halfway again and left Hermione unsatisfied, she would absolutely kill him…
"Need to make her come quickly," with that thought, Harry bent his fingers slightly for better access and increased the pace again, thrusting forcefully as deep as his phalanges would allow.
Hermione was screaming and trembling beneath him, painfully grabbing his hair with her fingers, just like last time, but he tried not to pay attention to this. Seeing how much she was enjoying his touches, his own arousal finally began to overcome physiology – his cock had already lengthened again and was half-erect.
"Harry! Haryyyy!.."
When he added a third finger, stretching Hermione as wide as possible, she gasped and nearly tore his scalp with her nails. Harry was certain that he would lose several large clumps of hair by the time they finished.
However, even if he went completely bald, it was worth it, because the mere sight of Hermione trembling, losing control and falling apart beneath him brought him incredible pleasure.
Methodically striking her warm, spongy walls and feeling them tighten ever more around his fingers in the inevitable approach of orgasm, Harry worked his mouth as hard and fast as he ever had, not bothering about making it look pretty.
"Harry! Harry! HARRYYYYY!.." she rasped and arched in his arms, then came suddenly and powerfully, flooding his face and hand with warm, clear fluid that kept squirting and squirting, seemingly without end.
Harry reflexively swallowed the first thick stream, choking on its sweet, watery taste, and only seconds later did the thought strike him that it might be urine… He recoiled to the side, staring in amazement as Hermione continued to spray onto the mattress, writhing and moaning, shaking her hips randomly as her internal muscles reflexively contracted, squeezing his phalanges with astonishing force.
"Oh! Oh… oh… o-o-oh…!"
"Did she… just piss on me?"
Harry had no idea if this was normal. Could girls do that during sex?
It should have been disgusting, but… well, it was Hermione. Even if she'd wet herself during orgasm… hmm…
Listening to his own feelings, Harry realized he somehow didn't feel disgusted. What had come out of her didn't even smell of anything. And it wasn't yellow like piss. Rather, transparent, like ordinary water.
But that didn't even matter. Piss or not, Hermione had just come thanks to his efforts so hard that she'd completely lost control for a minute.
Now she lay before him, spread out like a starfish, with her legs splayed apart and her eyes closed, breathing heavily through her mouth. Her pale sides were wet with sweat, and chestnut strands of hair clung to her forehead and neck.
Harry's face and body were also absolutely wet with sweat. His blood-engorged penis ached and leaked pre-ejaculate, standing at attention again, but he was completely exhausted and couldn't imagine how he could continue anything in the near future.
The fingers of his right hand were still inside Hermione, catching the last weak waves of her orgasm, and on his lips he could sharply taste salt and musk…
* * *
He slowly freed his hand from the sticky confines and lay on his side next to his girlfriend, who still showed no signs of life.
Resting his cheek on his left arm, bent at the elbow, Harry curiously studied Hermione's face, on which a meaningless, detached expression had frozen. He wouldn't have been surprised if she simply fell asleep right now.
He probably should just finish himself off… He no longer needed to "conserve" his sperm now that Hermione was pregnant.
Harry glanced towards her navel, and then slightly lower, where her uterus should be…
A belated worry pierced his gut when he remembered with what force he had just thrust his fingers there.
What if he had overdone it?
Could this somehow harm Hermione? Or the baby?!
In his growing anxiety, he glanced again at Hermione's face, but her features remained completely serene, and her breathing was quiet and deep. Apparently, she had indeed managed to doze off while he sat there and worked himself up.
"Damn…"
Harry almost laughed out loud when he realized how absurdly he was behaving. Probably it was all because he hadn't come, that's why his brain was refusing to work properly.
Well, then… It was time to take matters into his own hands, so to speak.
His right palm was still covered in the sticky moisture, so he didn't even need to use saliva. Gripping his shaft at the base, he sighed in relief, then slowly moved upward, evenly distributing the lubricant.
Leisurely, without taking his eyes off his sleeping girlfriend's face, he began to stroke himself along his entire length, at first slowly and lightly, and then faster and faster.
"Uh…" He bit his lip, trying to keep from groaning.
He needed to finish quickly…
His fist worked like a piston, accelerating ever more, while images of a trembling, moaning Hermione, coming on his fingers, flashed under his half-closed eyelids…
"Fuck!" He cursed hoarsely and convulsed when he was suddenly taken over the edge without warning.
His balls fired semen so forcefully that it splattered all over himself, the mattress, and even Hermione beside him. The last spurts, gasping and writhing with pleasure, he released onto her stomach and thigh.
"Oh, fuck…"
He collapsed back onto his side of the mattress in a boneless, blissfully bubbling heap and closed his eyes, trying to catch his ragged breath.
Throughout all this, Hermione hadn't moved a muscle, continuing to snore peacefully.
It was still only around three o'clock in the afternoon, but Harry's eyelids were drooping too...
Nothing would happen if they both slept for a bit... just for an hour or two...
Obeying his last vague commands, the Room created a couple more pillows and a thick quilted duvet, which Harry contentedly wrapped himself in along with Hermione and fell asleep almost instantly, holding her happily close to him.
Chapter 59Chapter TextShe was warm and comfortable… so comfortable that she didn't want to wake up, because then she'd definitely have to get up and go somewhere, do something… But this way she could just keep lying there like a baked potato, to the absolute limit, occasionally lazily tossing and turning under the covers…
A soft body pressed against hers under this blanket, wrapping its limbs around her, warming her, soothing her…
So good… so quiet… nice and cozy…
But she couldn't sleep forever, even if she really wanted to. The pressure in her bladder was growing, becoming increasingly unpleasant, and her empty stomach was restlessly churning and rumbling, urging her to emerge from hibernation and do something about it.
The blurred pleasant dreams were relentlessly disappearing as her brain switched on, beginning to perceive more and more external stimuli. Her sense of smell awakened first among them, catching the heavy scent of musk and sweat enveloping her from all sides, mingled with the omnipresent aroma of wax…
Taking a deep breath of this mix, Hermione shifted slightly, still not quite ready to completely abandon her stay in limbo, yet her own nervous system had already begun to push her out against her will.
A stream of thoughts slowly but relentlessly filled her head, growing wider, until she began to remember exactly how she had ended up here. The image of the explosion in the Potions classroom appeared before her mind's eye and melted, swept away by a much stronger, pleasant episode in the Room of Requirement in Harry's company.
At the thought of this, Hermione's lips stretched into a satisfied smile as she remembered how Harry had kissed and touched her, and then went down and…
The lower part of her belly sweetly ached in an echo of pleasure. She restlessly rubbed her thighs together under the blanket, feeling the stickiness and wetness between them, which, while not particularly pleasant, was undeniable evidence that it hadn't all been a dream.
Harry had indeed made her come so strongly that for several minutes her brain simply switched off, drowned in a haze of primitive arousal, and the release that followed was so insane and all-consuming that it completely stunned her. Hermione was almost certain that she had simply lost consciousness immediately afterwards.
"Where did he learn how to do what?"
It seemed that besides Quidditch, Harry had another hidden talent related to bringing her to increasingly mind-blowing orgasms time and time again. What he did to her vagina yesterday…
"Wait, was that yesterday? Or today? What time is it anyway?"
Hermione's eyes flew open, and she stared at the dark stone ceiling, dimly illuminated by candles floating in the corners of the room.
Where she and Harry were, it was very quiet, and through the narrow arched windows she could see bright constellations and the edge of the moon, but this in itself meant nothing – the magic of the Room could create probably any surroundings, so the question of time remained open.
Since she felt completely rested, it must have been at least four hours since she fell asleep. Unlike her, Harry was still sleeping, burying his face in her neck and firmly hugging her waist, as If he had no intention of waking up anytime soon.
He looked so funny with his tousled tufts of hair, soft features, and slightly open mouth, even if it meant he was drooling on her hair…
Not wanting to wake him, Hermione began to extremely carefully, millimeter by millimeter, extricate herself from under him, watching to ensure his eyelids didn't flutter. This was quite a task, considering how persistently he clung to her with all his limbs, but she didn't give up.
Finally, after several minutes of persistent "snake-like" work, she managed to escape from under him without disturbing him, promptly substituting her pillow as an alternative for cuddling. Harry just mumbled something and sighed, burying his face in the featherbed.
"Cute…" Hermione caught herself smiling like an idiot again, looking at her snoring boyfriend, and shook her head.
This was too much. She had never been like this before and hadn't even thought she would ever smile just by watching another person sleep. It sounded absurd… but that was exactly what she felt now whenever she looked at Harry.
This is what being in love looks like, isn't it? One fine day, you suddenly start melting at the stupidest and most meaningless things in the world if those things are connected with the object of your adoration…
Another urge in her bowels interrupted her philosophizing, making her hurry towards the door that had appeared to the bathroom.
When she returned from there, clean and neatly dressed again, Harry was no longer asleep. He was sitting on the mattress, blinking sleepily and stretching.
"Hey…" he mumbled between two wide, loud yawns that he didn't even try to cover with his hand.
"Did you sleep well?" Hermione smiled, deciding not to nag him about his lack of manners. To be honest, she had long since resigned herself to the fact that she probably wouldn't be able to make him or Ron behave even slightly more civilized in her presence.
"Mm-hmm… What time is it?"
Hermione concentrated, mentally asking the Room to create a clock for them. Judging by how some things here just appeared out of the air when thought about, this place didn't need verbal commands at all.
"I wonder how it distinguishes between what is a command and what is just a fleeting thought?" This was an interesting topic for reflection or perhaps even for future research, but right now Hermione was concerned with something else.
"Oh…" Harry, just like her, looked anxiously at the dial of the large wall clock that showed four in the morning.
"Crap."
They had slept much longer than they should have and had managed to miss not only dinner but also curfew! If someone noticed this, they would be in big trouble.
"Shit," the curse slipped from Hermione's lips, causing Harry to snort. "Hey, it's not funny! We overslept, Harry! What are we going to do now?!"
"Maybe no one noticed…"
"You think so?" She was trying very hard to restrain her sarcasm, but she wasn't doing well. "We're the only ones from our year who were supposed to be in the tower today! I'm sure someone definitely noticed we were missing."
"Um…"
"Never mind," Hermione shook her head disappointedly, inhaling. "We can't do anything about it now anyway."
That was true. They had fucked up again.
It had only been a little more than a day since the start of the second term, and they had already managed to make such a big mess! First that magical shield, and now this double disappearance to who knows where for the whole night…
If this continues, they'll be exposed long before her growing belly gives them away.
"Shit!"
* * *
Returning to the Tower was pointless and even more dangerous, as they might be caught by Filch or one of the teachers patrolling the corridors.
After Harry had also sorted himself out, they spent several more hours until dawn reading and preparing for their upcoming lessons at Hermione's insistence, which Harry reluctantly but ultimately followed – especially after she left a brief kiss on his lips, causing his eyes to light up brightly and his face to flush with a pleased blush.
Honestly, if she'd known it would be so easy to make him study with just one tiny peck, she would have started doing it much earlier.
Lying together again on the bed their mattress had transformed into, they spent their time in silence, save for the crackling of logs in the fireplace and the rustling of turning pages. The room around them, having changed from a classroom into a small bedroom with a low ceiling, carpet on the floor, and bookshelves, was peaceful and cozy, so they would probably find it rather difficult to make themselves leave here later. Outside the frosted windows, snow was falling silently…
Harry's right hand held a book open on his lap, while his left hand rested on Hermione's shoulders as she also read her own textbook. His fingers mechanically stroked her shoulder as he frowned at the lines, trying to make them out in the dim light.
"He needs new glasses," Hermione thought as he once again sighed silently and squinted. "When was his last eye appointment?"
She wasn't sure how often people with poor vision needed check-ups, as neither she nor her parents had such problems. Her maternal grandfather wore glasses, but he was quite old, so that didn't really count. Besides, she still didn't know how often he needed to get a new prescription.
She would probably have to ask her parents to take Harry to a clinic next time they went to visit them… but that was still almost six months away! If he kept squinting like this, his eyes might suffer even more damage, not to mention he wouldn't be able to study properly for several months in a row.
Now that this thought had entered her mind, Hermione wondered if his poor vision might be one of the reasons why he often avoided lessons and homework that required sitting with a book for long periods, while he usually had no problem with practical work. After all, it's rather difficult to enjoy reading when you can barely see anything on the page.
"Glasses for Harry," she mentally added this item to the list of things they needed to take care of in their nearest free time.
Also on the list was checking the Potter family account at Gringotts… and perhaps finding a summer residence for both of them if her mum and dad were still opposed to her returning to the magical world…
Compared to the other problems, buying new glasses seemed like a rather simple task, but that was only at first glance. Hermione had no idea how Harry would react if she suggested an eye examination. Judging by how reluctantly he went to Madam Pomfrey even in cases of serious injury, he didn't like being treated.
"Or perhaps he just has difficulty accepting help from anyone in general…"
She gave Harry a sad glance, which he fortunately didn't notice, or else he would surely have been embarrassed or even angry. If Hermione knew one thing for certain about her friend, it was that he hated when anyone pitied him, so she quickly returned to Advanced Potion-Making, which she had chosen from her extensive collection of books for light reading today.
This, however, was not so easy, as her thoughts constantly wandered, repeatedly stopping on the boy beside her, and her eyes couldn't help but glide across his face. Each day she was surprised to find something new in his face that she hadn't noticed before, whether it was the cute, slightly stubborn curve of his upper lip, the thin line of his nose, or the barely noticeable mole behind his left ear that she wanted to kiss so much…
"Hermione…"
"Hmm?"
"You're staring."
"What?" She stirred, realizing she'd been caught red-handed. "I wasn't…"
"Uh-huh. You've been looking at me for the last five minutes," Harry smirked and turned so their faces were opposite each other.
"I…" Her cheeks slightly reddened, but at the same time, she wasn't truly embarrassed.
Why should she feel awkward about looking at her boyfriend, whom she was in love with? She had every right to do that, didn't she?
"Yes," she declared decisively, returning his smirk tenfold. "I am."
"Oh…"
This time it was his turn to be embarrassed.
It was amusing and somewhat sad – how quickly he moved from bravado to confusion the moment she showed a little initiative.
He also had absolutely no idea how to accept compliments directed at him, because no one had ever given them to him before. This trait of his simultaneously infuriated and despaired Hermione. It hurt her how much he needed encouragement, yet he consistently rejected any display of it, simply because he didn't know what to do with it.
"I was looking at you because I like it," she repeated, not giving him time to object. "You're very handsome, Harry, you know that?"
And just like that, with literally a couple of phrases, she had successfully managed to bring him to the brightest blush in history.
Completely flustered, Harry mumbled something and buried himself back in his book, trying to maintain a detached expression, but Hermione managed to catch the shy happy smile that flashed across his lips.
Stretching, she picked up the plate of sliced fruits and snacks from the bedside table, which was left over from their breakfast organised by Dobby a couple of hours earlier. Selecting her favourite strawberry, Hermione crunched into the large berry, enjoying its bright freshness and sweetness.
She didn't know where the house-elf got all these delicacies each time, and only hoped he wasn't stealing them from someone. Harry had once let slip that at the very beginning he had tried to pay Dobby for his services, but the mere mention of money was enough to send the elf into a furious hysteria, attempting to smash his own head against the floor, so since then Harry had no choice but to accept his help without payment. This still bothered Hermione, as it smacked too much of slave labour, which she was very much against, but in Dobby's case she wanted to understand the situation first before drawing conclusions.
"I'll need to look up more information about house-elves," that was something she definitely needed to think about in her spare time, considering how much she and Harry had both come to rely on Dobby.
They had already exposed themselves quite a bit to him – at the very least, he was aware that they had spent several nights alone behind closed doors. Could he have guessed what they were doing?
Dobby was strange and thought in a very peculiar way, but he didn't seem stupid. Hermione could see the intelligence shining in his huge, protruding eyes. He must have drawn the appropriate conclusions from what he had seen… However, judging by the fact that they still hadn't been written about in the Prophet, for some reason he preferred to remain silent about it for now.
Perhaps Harry was right, and Dobby really hadn't meant any harm… And he went on feeding them both like lambs for the slaughter, bringing them everything they could possibly wish for – and more…
Finding a piece of tender goat's chèvre on a skewer on the plate, she also threaded a couple of juicy grapes onto it and held this tiny improvised kebab to Harry's face:
"Say 'aah'."
He gave her a strange look, clearly not prepared to be fed like a baby, but opened his mouth anyway.
"Mmm… 's good…"
Pleased with the reaction, Hermione fed him several more such skewers, then all the remaining strawberries, ham, walnuts, and peach slices. At first, Harry looked tense, completely unused to being cared for, but gradually relaxed and even leaned back against the pillows, returning to his reading while more food was offered to him.
It was like trying to tame a stubborn wild animal that had never known a kind hand, but Hermione had no shortage of patience and persistence.
"Feeding Harry" became another item added to her collection of Major Plans for the Near Future, and unlike the glasses, nothing prevented her from tackling this right now.
To be honest, she had quite often wanted to do this last year, when she and Harry had just become friends and she saw how small and thin he actually was without his robes, but back then they weren't close enough for something like that. Now that they were officially dating, nothing held her back from methodically feeding him the entire plate down to the last crumb.
She wondered if she went a bit further and tried to create a special protein diet for him, would he mind too much? Was it even possible to eat separately from others at Hogwarts? After all, there were cases of allergies or simply disliked dishes…
Hermione tried to recall if she had ever seen any student eating separately, but she generally didn't pay attention to such things.
Come to think of it, where did the food in the Great Hall come from in the first place? Such things couldn't be created by magic, which meant someone must have prepared it all… But who? And how? Considering that several hundred people studied at the school, it probably wasn't that simple to prepare meals three times a day for such a crowd…
Hermione realised with some embarrassment that it had never occurred to her to think about this before. For over a year, she had simply eaten the most delicious delicacies with everyone else every day, without having the slightest idea where it all came from. Even in her favourite Hogwarts: A History, there was no mention of such topic, so it was either some big secret or something so obvious to wizards that it wasn't even worth mentioning…
She was already considering asking the Room to create a copy of Hogwarts: A History, but the hands on the clock had already passed six in the morning, which meant she and Harry should hurry and leave right now if they wanted to visit Ron before breakfast.
Their bags, already fully packed for the day, were hanging on a hook near the door – again thanks to Dobby, who, unlike them, could move freely within Hogwarts… which was another reason to wonder about the magic he possessed. As far as Hermione knew, no wizard could Apparate here, including probably even Professor Dumbledore, and he was the headmaster and the most powerful wizard living today.
* * *
They left at a quarter to seven and crept towards the Hospital Wing. If anyone had seen them now, they would have immediately guessed that they weren't coming from Gryffindor Tower, so they were glad to meet no one except rows of sleepy knight's armour and a couple of random cats (which weren't Mrs Norris or Professor McGonagall).
However, as it turned out, they had dragged themselves out so early for nothing, as Ron was already being discharged – his arms were completely fine, having healed overnight. He was, however, pleased to see them and immediately drew Harry into a discussion of Quidditch strategies for the upcoming match against Hufflepuff – a topic these two could discuss for hours on end regardless of the circumstances.
Having absolutely no interest in the nuances of a "spinning bludger grab" or "low-speed reverse swerving flight", Hermione quickly tuned out of the conversation, which soon became white noise to her, allowing the boys to chatter endlessly on their way to breakfast without her participation.
It was actually quite nice in its own way, as she could simply drift in her own thoughts while not being completely alone.
As much as she enjoyed spending time alone with Harry, she also missed Ron's noisy presence. He was a bit rude and sometimes behaved foolishly, but even she, with all her outward primness, found it hard to hold back laughter when he switched to mimicking Malfoy. The Slytherin, who had suffered far less than others yesterday, had thrown a proper tantrum with wails and laments, just like a real drama queen…
"…and then he squealed like a girl when Madam Pomfrey started applying the salve to his face. 'Oh, my beautiful face! Oh, my daddy will come and punish you all!'" Ron rolled his eyes and clutched his freckled cheeks, making Harry and Hermione roar with laughter.
The voices and footsteps of their trio echoed loudly in the corridors, mixing with the grumbling of portraits, displeased with such noise so early in the morning.
The doors of the still-empty Great Hall were invitingly open, and the tables were filled with various foods, the mere sight and smell of which made Hermione's stomach rumble loudly. Despite having already had breakfast not long ago, she was hungry again, so she, like yesterday, took a little bit of everything. With no Lavender or Parvati nearby to peek into her plate and judge her, she shamelessly cleared everything in front of her, almost matching Ron in speed and quantity of food consumption. Harry, in contrast, just picked at his plate.
"Here," he placed a dish of small sweet buns in front of Hermione when he saw her reaching for them.
"Thanks…"
Gradually the room filled with other students, who brought with them the usual noise and bustle. Contrary to Hermione's fears, no one asked where she and Harry had been all last evening and night, so perhaps no one had really noticed they weren't in their dormitories. Even Percy, it seemed, was much more occupied with making eyes at the Ravenclaw prefect he had a crush on than with keeping tabs on his younger brother's friends.
"Excuse me…" someone tugged lightly on Hermione's right sleeve, stopping her from taking another spoonful of blueberry pudding. Turning around, she saw Ginny Weasley, who was looking at her shyly from under her uneven bangs.
They rarely crossed paths, even though they were in the same house. It seemed they simply had no common topics for conversation… All Hermione knew about Ginny was that she was Ron's younger sister, rather reserved and a bit strange, but overall, she's seemed like an ordinary first-year. It was unclear whether she had friends among her roommates or if she socialised with other girls or boys in general. For some reason, she acted particularly shy and timid around Hermione… or rather, around Harry, who was almost constantly somewhere nearby.
Hermione suspected that Ginny had a bit of a crush on Harry, which was, frankly, not surprising – Harry was a fairy-tale hero. Many children in the wizarding world had literally grown up on stories of Harry Potter's "exploits", although those were, of course, complete fiction, as no one knew how the Boy Who Lived had actually lived after defeating You-Know-Who at the age of one.
Early last year Hermione had also acquired a few such books, just to stay informed, and found them to be nothing more than fiction. After all, it's just absurd to suppose that a five-year-old could cast spells without a wand like he was Merlin himself or ride dragons! However, she could understand the admiration other girls had for Harry, especially after getting to know him better – how kind, brave, and wonderful he was.
She was fully aware that many girls in their year and even some older students looked at him from time to time. As a girl herself, Hermione of course noticed their glances, but she doubted that Harry himself was aware that anyone other than her thought of him in such a way. However, Hermione had no desire to enlighten him on this matter – she certainly didn't need any competition, thank you very much.
"Excuse me…" Ginny repeated, trying to get her attention again.
"Sorry, I was lost in thought. Did you need something?" Hermione smiled politely at the younger girl.
"I wanted to ask if you could… maybe help me with Transfiguration? I didn't quite understand the last topic, and we have a test in a week… I looked for you in the common room last night to ask, but…"
"Shit."
"I went to bed early."
"Really?" Ginny's eyebrows rose mistrustfully. "But I went to your dormitory, and you weren't there."
"Double shit."
"I… er… I was probably just in the shower at that moment. I like to shower before bed, you know."
The girl continued to drill her with a skeptical gaze, the intensity of which for some reason sent shivers down Hermione's spine.
"I see…" Ginny said slowly.
"But I think I can find some time this week to study with you. How about… this Thursday after dinner?"
"Yes, that would be wonderful," a smile appeared on Ginny's face too, and Hermione breathed a sigh of relief.
Mentally congratulating herself on the smooth lie she'd come up with in time, she returned to her breakfast, not noticing how Ginny continued to watch her sideways for a while longer before taking her bag and leaving the Great Hall alone without finishing her breakfast.
* * *
Since they didn't have Potions that day, meaning there was nothing to sabotage or blow up, the rest of their classes passed quite smoothly.
Initially still a bit nervous after all the events of the holidays and the rather unpleasant start of term, Hermione nevertheless found that she was glad to return to her studies. She settled back into the routine quite quickly, diligently taking lecture notes and enthusiastically answering the professors' questions, for which she earned her deserved forty points for the House total. Even Ron and Harry managed to earn five points each for correctly casting the Laughing Charm and turning a box into a lizard, respectively.
Everything went as smoothly as it possibly could, considering this was a magical school full of hormone-fuelled teenagers, chaos, and the constant danger of turning oneself or one's classmates and professors into something insane.
The good thing was that their last lesson, right after lunch, was a double Herbology with the quiet, phlegmatic Hufflepuffs, after which the rest of the evening was completely free.
Remembering their agreement, at the end of the lesson Hermione exchanged glances with Harry, meaningfully gesturing with her eyes towards Ron, and received a silent nod from her boyfriend.
"Ron," she called, while he was busy putting used gardening tools back into a box. "We need to talk."
"About what?"
"Not here. Let's go somewhere quieter…"
Intrigued by her response, Ron tossed the remaining empty pots and secateurs haphazardly and hurried after her and Harry towards the exit of the greenhouse.
The weather outside was frosty, but very quiet and sunny, so instead of going back to the castle, Hermione turned towards the Black Lake.
They would need a bit of privacy for what they had planned…
The idea of simply going to the Room of Requirement together was her first option, but Hermione quickly dismissed it. Perhaps it was selfish of her, but she simply didn't want Ron to know about the place that had become something of a sanctuary for her and Harry. Their own special secret place in the castle… just for the two of them. Judging by the fact that Harry also preferred to say nothing, he probably agreed with her.
In their effort to get as far away from the castle as possible, they walked through the snowdrifts for quite a while until they reached the shore of the lake, after which they walked a bit more until they found themselves at the old weeping willows – almost in the same spot where Harry had nearly killed them both last time by crashing into the snowdrifts.
Hagrid's hut stood right on the opposite side of the lake, but no smoke was visible, so the gamekeeper was probably somewhere else…
From this point, if anyone at school saw them, they probably wouldn't be able to make out exactly what was happening here.
"Alright… This place will do," she stopped and turned to the boys.
Ron looked at her expectantly and impatiently, while Harry stood with his hands in his jacket pockets, leaving Hermione to speak for both of them.
"What's with all the secrecy, guys?" Ron's red eyebrows furrowed. "What's going on?"
"Remember the Ritual the three of us performed before the holidays?"
"Well, yes. What about it?" he crossed his arms on his chest, still genuinely not understanding what the matter was.
"It had some… consequences," Hermione winced. She heard Harry snort softly beside her, looking somewhere into the distance.
Yeah… Consequences.
One of these consequences was currently growing and developing, attached to the walls of her womb…
But Ron definitely didn't need to know about that. For him, she had a pre-prepared, PG-13-rated edited version.
Taking a deep breath, Hermione said with a slight hesitation:
"Harry and I have… kind of become related because of it."
"Er… really?" Ron looked at her bewildered. "I mean… wasn't that the whole point? To bring you into the Potter family?"
"Well, yes, but…"
"So you guys are really like brother and sister now?" he interrupted, looking with interest at his friends' faces as if their features should suddenly change or become similar to each other, as usually happened with blood-related family members.
"Something like that," Hermione answered vaguely.
"So what's… er… the problem?" Ron sniffed irritably, his nose long since red from the frost, as were his uncovered ears. "What did you want to tell me that we needed to drag ourselves all the way out here? Although… wait…" he paused as a sudden realization dawned on him. "Oh! I think I get it!"
Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione noticed Harry give her an anxious look, but all her attention was now focused on Ron's face.
If only she had told him too much…
"You get it?" she asked cautiously.
"Yeah," he grimaced in embarrassment. "Blimey… And now you two are… ugh… dating," he blushed slightly. "But if you two are relatives now, then that's kind of… er…"
As soon as she realised exactly where his thoughts had gone, Hermione shuddered in disgust.
"Ew! No! Harry and I aren't like that!" she protested, waving her hands.
"Did he really think we were now…?! Disgusting!"
"But what's the matter then?" the red-haired boy now looked even more confused. "If you're not blood relatives, then you can probably still date… I think."
"No, that's not the case," Hermione answered firmly. "Harry and I are definitely not related by blood. We asked you to come here because we just want to test something…"
Carefully avoiding any further hints of dangerous topics, she explained her theory about protective magic to Ron. Finally understanding what exactly they wanted from him, he agreed to help quite quickly, though he didn't seem absolutely convinced.
As the day before, Hermione told Harry to stand on one side of the line, while Ron took up the position of his opponent. At first, she wanted to test everything on herself, but Harry pushed her aside.
"I'll do it."
"But…"
At that moment, he gave her a brief but meaningful look towards her stomach, causing Hermione's cheeks to flush, and she nodded silently, giving in.
He was right. And she had forgotten again for a second…
"Ahem…" Ron demonstratively cleared his throat, looking displeasedly at his friends, who were again having this silent-dialogue-thing right in front of him, in which he was assigned the role of an outside observer. "Well? How much longer do I have to wait?"
"Expelliarmus!" Harry shouted without warning, causing Ron to stagger and fall on his arse in a snowdrift, losing his wand.
"Hey! Not fair! I wasn't prepared!"
After the boys had calmed down again and taken their positions, Hermione commanded:
"Ron, on the count of three, you're to cast a spell at Harry. Harry, remember you're not supposed to use a shield."
"Okay."
"Alright… One, two… three!"
"Expelliarmus!"
A flash of magic struck Harry, knocking him backwards, just as it had done to Ron before.
It was unpleasant, but not critical. Perhaps it was really a matter of the danger level of the curse or the strength of its casting…
However, neither Rictusempra nor Tarantallegra, nor other harmless charms from the second-years' repertoire caused Harry's magic to react as it had in the Potions classroom.
Tired of breakdancing on the snow, Harry began to dodge the attacks, and then started sending his own curses at his opponent – and soon a playful but no less fierce magical duel was raging on the shore of the frozen lake.
"Silencio!"
"Incendio!"
"Flipendo!"
"Incendio!"
"Everte Statum!"
"INCENDIO!"
"Stop! Stop!" Hermione shouted, cupping her hands around her mouth, irritated that they were fooling around instead of continuing the experiment, but the boys were too busy trying to set each other's robes on fire and hang each other upside down in the air.
While Harry tried to get Ron with various charms cast in random order, Ron persistently bombarded his best friend with fire streams, but all they had achieved so far was a singed sleeve and several melted snowdrifts.
"Immobulus! Expelliarmus!"
"INCENDIO!.."
In an attempt to dodge another fire stream, Harry jerked to the right, but didn't account for the thawed snow under his boots and flopped onto his side.
"Harry!" Hermione panicked, throwing her arm forward as if that could somehow protect him from the fire rushing straight at his face.
And then it finally happened.
FLASH.
A bright golden sphere enveloped Harry's figure, successfully deflecting the fire and redirecting it to the nearby bushes, which immediately burst into flames and crackled merrily.
"Bloody hell…" Ron swore, lowering his wand and looking in surprise at the magical shield.
"Are you alright?!" Hermione ran to Harry, extending her hand, but hastily withdrew it when the sphere buzzed warningly.
"Yeah… I'm fine," he answered automatically, getting to his feet and brushing himself off. There was a hole in his right trouser leg, through which a scraped knee was visible. "Shit, I think I've sprained my ankle…"
"What? Let me see!"
All thoughts of the sphere and potential danger flew out of her head when Hermione saw Harry wince painfully as he tried to put weight on the injured limb.
Stepping boldly forward through the force field, which immediately dissipated, scattering like sparks, she drew her wand and began waving it over Harry's body, muttering spells under her breath. As she diagnosed his leg for fractures and then cleaned the surface scratches, Ron also approached closer, scratching the back of his head nervously.
"Sorry, mate," he looked guiltily at Harry, who just waved it off.
"It's alright."
"Well, luckily, the bone is fine," Hermione concluded with a sigh. "But I'll still put a pressure bandage on you. Ferula! There, that should help a bit until we get you to the Hospital Wing…"
"Thanks. I feel much better already," Harry forced a smile, though Hermione could see he was still in considerable pain. "But I'm not going to the Hospital Wing."
"What? But…"
"Listen, I'm totally fine, okay? It's just a minor sprain. I'm sure it'll heal by itself by evening… at the latest by tomorrow morning."
"Harry, sprains don't just heal like that," she shook her head, frustrated by his stubbornness. "You need to be examined by a healer."
"You've already examined me," he grinned, but Hermione was in no mood to laugh.
"This isn't a joke!"
"Come on, Hermione, it's fine," Ron intervened. "He said he's okay, so he's okay. Don't make a mountain out of a molehill…"
"You stay out of this!" She snapped. "You don't understand anything!"
"Hey… Don't shout at me!" He also frowned, raising his voice to match hers. "Just because you're always fussing over us like a mother hen doesn't mean…"
BAM!
Another flash, accompanied this time by a loud clap, illuminated the surroundings – and in the next moment Ron was flying backwards in a wide arc towards the Forbidden Forest, crashing forcefully to the ground after ploughing through about twenty metres, and remaining lying there, completely motionless.
"Oh no!" Hermione instinctively pressed her palm to her stomach in horror, looking at the tiny figure of her friend who had just been thrown by her elemental magic.
She and Harry rushed there, out of their minds with terror, waist-deep in snow, and when they finally reached him, Ron was already stirring weakly, groaning in pain, but still not opening his eyes.
"Don't!" Hermione warned when she saw Harry about to lift him. "We don't know if his back is broken! You could make it worse!"
"Fuck…" he immediately pulled back his hands, stepping away. "But what… what should we do then?!"
"We need to call for help. Just don't move him! And don't let him move!"
"Okay…"
Making sure that Harry was carefully but firmly holding the disoriented Ron by the shoulders, preventing him from further harming himself, Hermione stepped back a couple of paces in shock, trying to concentrate.
She needed a spell that would allow her to summon one of the professors here…
She needed… something.
"Periculum!" she released a shower of red sparks into the sky, but it was still too light for anyone to notice them.
"Think… Think, damn you!" Hermione squeezed the bridge of her nose with her fingers, trying to find a solution, but as often happened with her in critical situations, her mind became empty and helpless with fear.
"Aah…" Ron groaned weakly again with closed eyes and tried to move, but Harry pressed his shoulders into the snowdrift, holding him in place.
"Easy, mate… Everything's going to be alright, okay? Help will be here soon. You just have to hold on a little longer, alright?" he mumbled as confidently as possible before exchanging frightened looks with Hermione.
"Periculum!" she tried again out of desperation – with the same result.
There was still about an hour until sunset, but they couldn't wait that long. They didn't know how badly Ron was injured. He could freeze to death if left here…
And it would all be her fault! Because she had lost her temper over nothing and hurt him!
Hermione felt tears welling up in her eyes, which would be even worse, because if she started crying now, she would be completely useless.
"Hermione!" Harry called in panic. "Hermione, help me! I can't hold him!"
Ron's body began to shake violently, so even the combined efforts of Harry and Hermione were barely enough to hold him in place. This went on for several minutes, but it felt much longer, and then he finally stilled…
And then foam began to pour from his mouth.
"We need to turn him over!"
"But you said…"
"Quickly, Harry! Or he'll choke!"
As best they could, trying to keep his head aligned with his spine, they laid Ron on his side so his airways wouldn't be blocked by the foam.
Tears streamed continuously from Hermione's eyes, which she didn't even notice, and her hands shook mercilessly. Harry beside her didn't look much better, completely deathly pale and bewildered by the fact that his recent horror was repeating itself again – first it was Hermione, and now Ron…
"What do we do?" he whispered as soon as Ron calmed down and his breathing evened out, though he remained unconscious.
"I don't know…" Hermione swallowed, then asked: "Will you… will you stay with him while I run for help?"
"What if he gets worse while you're gone?" Harry looked at her in fear, not wanting her to leave and him alone with an injured friend whom he couldn't help if something happened.
"Alright… Then I'll stay, and you go."
"But…"
"Someone has to go, Harry!" she snapped and then took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. "Sorry… Just… go, okay? I'll look after him. Go! Quickly! Go!"
"Yeah… Yeah, okay. Stay here! I'll be right back!" Harry shouted this as if they could actually go somewhere, and took off running back to the castle as fast as he could, forgetting about his injured leg and clearing his path with a spell.
"Please, hurry," Hermione whispered after him in a strained voice, sobbing as she watched him disappear rapidly over the hill, leaving her and Ron alone on the shore of the frozen lake in the gathering darkness.
* * *
She looked down again at Ron's face, terribly pale and motionless, and swallowed hard, trying to suppress a sob.
She wouldn't cry now, when she needed to stay composed and ready to act.
"Everything's going to be alright. Harry will be back soon," she mumbled to Ron, though she was really saying it more for herself. "He'll bring help…"
This place was definitely cursed. First, she and Harry had nearly died skating, and now Ron was injured…
But what the hell had actually happened?! It was her elemental magic, wasn't it? But why? Why had it attacked Ron?!
Hermione tried to recall what had happened, but everything was so hazy… She had just been so angry with Ron at that moment, for some reason… She just wanted him to shut up and stop calling her a "mother hen", but… but that was so stupid! She hadn't meant anything like that! She didn't want this! It wasn't her fault!
She hadn't wanted this to happen!
"Ron, I'm so sorry! Please don't die! I'm so terribly sorry!.."
Unable to bear it any longer, she finally burst into hysterical weeping, wailing incoherently and crying so hard that she could see nothing but blurred patches before her.
She felt so sorry for Ron…
She had no idea what had come over her. All these emotions… She had never been like this! Never! She had always prided herself on being rational and good at keeping her feelings under control…
"I'm sorry! I'm so, so sorry…"
With trembling fingers, she stroked Ron's coppery hair, then touched his forehead – it felt very cold to her.
"He's freezing!"
Unable to think of anything better in that moment, Hermione ripped off her jacket and covered Ron. But he was still too cold, and it was already beginning to get dark…
Hermione looked around in confusion, trying to find inspiration to come up with something, when her gaze fell on the remains of the burnt bushes.
Pointing her wand at them, she shouted in turn:
"Diffindo! Inсendio!"
The resulting pile of branches instantly caught fire, flaring up with blue magical flames, which then turned into a natural orange glow. By adding more branches in this way, Hermione was able to create several fires, arranging them so that she and Ron were inside a circle of warmth. Because of this, the snow beneath them began to turn into muddy slush quite quickly, but that was still better than hypothermia.
In her altered state of mind, it didn't occur to Hermione that she could have simply used Warming Charms. She was just glad to see the pallor on Ron's face replaced by a slight flush, and his skin becoming a little warmer.
"You're going to be okay, alright, Ron?"
He, of course, didn't answer.
Hermione continued to send up showers of red sparks at regular intervals, hoping that someone would see them before Harry could reach the school and come to their aid. All this time she hadn't stopped trembling from shock, but at least the tears had finally passed. Now her eyes were dry and wide open as she stared unblinkingly at the horizon, listening warily to the silence.
The sky in the west was already turning crimson when she finally thought she heard voices, and another minute later she actually saw several people hurrying in their direction.
"Here! We're here! Here!" she shouted unnecessarily, as it was very unlikely anyone could miss five huge brightly burning fires in the field from such a distance.
Hagrid was the first to reach them, jumping straight over entire rows of bushes and low trees, and Hermione almost burst into tears again at the sight of his massive, calming figure.
Like Harry before him, he immediately tried to lift Ron from the ground, but Hermione wouldn't let him.
"You did everything right, Miss Granger," praised Madam Pomfrey, who had rushed over, before decisively pushing her aside and passing her hand over to Professor McGonagall.
"Now, now, that's enough, girl," the Head of House chided her dryly, though she herself was looking just as anxiously at her student, awaiting the Mediwitch's verdict.
"How is he?!" The red-faced, panting Harry finally arrived too. "Is he okay?!"
"Quiet, Mr. Potter. Your friend is going to be fine."
"You can't know that!" Hermione almost exclaimed. She gripped the hand of the approaching Harry in a death grip, and he in turn squeezed her fingers almost to the point of cracking.
For several agonisingly long minutes, all they could do was watch helplessly as Madam Pomfrey cast spells over Ron. Finally, she straightened up again, turning to the assembled group.
"He's very lucky," she said before muttering a few more spells, creating magical stretchers with restraints and transferring Ron onto them. "He has several fractured vertebrae, but that's relatively easy to fix. Though the treatment won't be pleasant."
"But he'll live?"
"Yes, Mr. Potter."
"And he… he won't be crippled, will he? He'll be able to walk?"
"Yes, Miss Granger. He'll be perfectly fine. However, as I said, he was incredibly lucky. If the impact had been even slightly higher and affected his brain… But fortunately, it was just his spine. I predict a full recovery in a few days, at the latest a week."
"Oh, thank god!" Hermione's legs nearly buckled from relief, so Harry had to put his arm around her shoulders, holding her close to keep her from falling.
She didn't care who was watching them right now. Ron was going to be alright – and that was the most important thing! She still felt a terrible guilt about what had happened, but relief and joy were stronger.
Following the floating stretchers carrying Ron back to the castle, Hermione couldn't stop thinking about how stupidly they had been arguing all this time. How stupid she herself had been when she did it.
Today, Ron had nearly died because she had fallen for his innocent provocation. She had never expected her own reaction to be so unreasonably strong…
Her own magic had never been so strong before. And dangerous.
This time it was Ron… But who would be next? Who would be in her way the next time she lost her temper and wanted to smash everything around her?
She was dangerous.
And she had to do something about this, if she didn't want to actually kill someone one day.