Forever Knight [Harmione]

Chapter 8: Calling

"Thanks, Tonks."

"No problem."

She left.

Harry pushed himself up gingerly, pulling a pillow up to cushion his back. The vertigo was gone, but his head still throbbed and his limbs felt weak.

Ron plopped at the foot of the bed, sighing. "Somehow, I have this feeling that I should've expected something like this to happen."

Harry cocked him a weary smile as he made himself more comfortable. "Oh, you know me. I'm just full of dark surprises."

"No, I mean I really should've expected it. Hermione did. She mentioned something like it."

Harry stared at him. "Hermione knew I was going to have a vision?"

"What? No. Don't be silly. Hermione stormed out of divinations and she hates prophecies like the plague; 'specially yours."

"She does?"

"She never told you?"

"N-No..."

Ron waved dismissively. "Probably didn't want to worry you, then. Anyway, when she and I were talking at St. Mungo's, she told me to watch over you because she can't right now. She said that if your scar acts up, I ought to convince you to tell her about it. I swear that girl always needs something to sink her teeth into-ugh! Bad choice of words..."

There were too many things to think about in Ron's statement. Too many questions popping up out of nowhere. So Hermione had issues about his prophecy. Well, so did he, but he thought the drama of its revelation was over and done with. She certainly never brought it up again, but the fact that she'd said something about it to Ron and nothing to him... maybe it wasn't such a closed issue after all. And then there's her telling Ron to watch over him, as if he needed watching over, and then the scar...

He wondered contritely if he and Hermione had spent too much time being intimate and not enough time talking.

Well, of course we talked. We talked about everything and nothing and all of the things in between. We'd talk in the library, and in the bedroom, and on the dinner table, and wherever we happened to be. We'd talked about silly things and smart things and stupid things and serious things. Heck, we'd even talked about Voldemort and horcruxes after we brought it up with Arthur that first night Ron joined us here in Grimmauld Place.

But she never brought up the prophecy, did she?

Harry frowned. Well, neither did I.

She did, actually. Once, when she told Ron that futures weren't meant to be foretold. But then, it had been a fleeting reference. She gave no hint about having more significant issues about it...

But of course she would have issues about it! he scolded himself. She always worries about me and it's only natural that a prophecy that says "kill or be killed" with me and Voldemort in it would drive her up the wall...

He grit his teeth, fists clenching. Harry, you stupid idiot...

"Er... Harry?"

Harry scowled. "Look, I don't need watching over and... and... what the hell's she doing telling you all that and telling me nothing? I tell her everything. She tells me everything! When did this cloak and dagger shite start? What have you two been talking about behind my back? Just what the hell do you think you're doing, Ron?"

Ron's eyes widened in shock. "Merlin, Godric and Morgana! What shit-storm is this?"

That's all it took for Harry to realize what he was saying, and he became thoroughly ashamed of himself. He reddened and he cast Ron an apologetic look before burying his face in his hands. "Oh, hell... I'm sorry, Ron. I didn't mean that..."