Prophecy 472

2- Amortentia

She took a step forward but was interrupted as a bulking figure pushed in between her and Harry, walking across the threshold and into the hallway of her home. She turned to protest at the figure, then saw the unmistakable color of Weasley red hair.

The shock of him left her powerless to speech or rational thought. She closed her eyes tightly, willing herself to focus and stay on task. Standing in her hallway was Ron. He was the person she dreamed about every night, he was the person whose name was like a prayer to her. He was also the last person on Earth she ever wanted to see again. Hermione took a deep breath that ended in a gulp. When she opened her eyes and saw him still standing there, glaring at her, she knew that her hardest work was still before her.

"Why don't you both come in?" She swept her arms to indicate they should all walk into the living room. Ron started first, walking into the room and placing himself unceremoniously onto the sofa, a puddle forming at his feet. Harry walked in next, taking a careful seat next to his friend. Hermione hovered awkwardly in the space between the entryway and the two boys. No, men.

"Would you like some tea? I'll get some." Hermione rushed off to the kitchen, speaking to herself as she made quick work of readying a tea tray.

Be calm, Hermione, you know why you're doing this. Just keep the story simple, catch up, and they'll be on their way. She paused to wait for the tea kettle to heat up, tapping one finger on the counter. Not that she was anxious to return to the living room, but the sooner this business got started, the sooner it would be over.

Hermione walked back to the living room holding a tray filled with a kettle, tea cups, milk, sugar and biscuits. She lowered the tray onto the coffee table and took a seat in an arm chair next to the sofa. Hermione took a moment then to look Ron over head to toe. He looked older, obviously, but in a way that didn't just come from aging. His eyes were darker, heavier, and his hair was longer than she'd ever seen it, even in fourth year. His skin was still pale and freckled, but his arms were bulkier and his shoulders wider. It looked like he had gotten taller, too, if that was possible. And he was oozing rage, the anger rolling off of him in waves.

"Here, have some," Hermione said finally. She reached out and prepared a cup for Harry, dropping one sugar cube in and handing it to him. She then picked up a second cup and filled it half way with tea, half way with milk, and dropped two sugar cubes in. Just the way Ron liked it. She placed the cup on a saucer and held it out to Ron. The china cup clinked against the saucer, and Hermione begged her hands to cooperate and stop shaking. She let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding as Ron finally took the cup from her.

"So, how have you two been?"

Hermione's question was halted by a crashing sound, as Ron threw his tea cup across the room. It shattered as it hit the wall across from Ron, the pieces of china hitting the floor and the tea making a dark stain against the wallpaper.

"M'not thirsty," Ron nearly growled at her.

Hermione winced at the sound of the breaking cup, her arms flying up in front of her as if to protect against some curse.

"Let's all calm down here," Harry said, placing his arms out to keep the two others apart. Hermione had jumped out of her seat and stood in front of the coffee table, her arms crossed in front of her chest.

"I don't know what she's got to be hacked off about," Ron said, speaking to Harry but drilling Hermione with his eyes.

"Well," Harry said in a controlled voice, "you have shown up at her home in the middle of the night and begun breaking her things."

"I'll break as many damned things as I like!" Ron shouted, his voice several decibels louder than before. "I'll break anything I like, and then put it back together with this." Ron pulled his wand out of his pocket and pointed it menacingly at Hermione.

"You know what this is, don't you?" Ron continued. "It's a wand. Perfect for fixing things like broken cups. What it's not usually used for, though, is turning your best friends into guinea pigs for your latest magic experiment!"

Hermione stood frozen in front of him, not sure if she was supposed to respond here. She had backed up so far that she was now flush against the wall with the new tea stain, the dampness of it seeping through her cardigan. It was the first time in her life she had ever been truly afraid of Ron Weasley.

"Don't look at me like that!" he roared. "Get out your wand!"

Hermione shook her head helplessly, trying to form words but unable to speak. Tears were welling up in her eyes.

"What's that?" Ron asked sarcastically. "Miss Know-It-All's run out of words, has she? Get out your wand and fight me!"

"Easy, easy mate," Harry said suddenly. He positioned himself in front of Hermione, his wand drawn but not raised, ready to shield off any hexes Ron might start throwing.

"I…I don't have a wand," Hermione said finally. "I got rid of it. After." With that, Hermione ran to the bathroom and slammed the door shut. She turned the faucet on the sink to generate some noise, crouched over the toilet, and threw up.

A/N: Thanks for reading and please vote and comment!