The Talk

The Talk

By Andrew Rhodes

Harry came out of the bathroom, towel wrapped firmly around his middle, holding his bedclothes. Ginny came out of her bedroom, that she was currently sharing with Hermione, and eyed Harry appraisingly.

"Oh, Harry, don't you think that the towel is too much?" she teased.

"You should talk," Harry shot back with a grin. "Turn off the headlights. You're blinding me."

Ginny stopped while Harry slipped past, a quizzical look on her face. "Headlights?" She shook her head and continued to the bath.

Harry stopped outside the girls' room and peered into the open door. Hermione was inside, and looked over at him when he cleared his throat. The sensual look in her eyes spoke volumes about what they had just done in said bathroom. It had happened so simply. While he was preparing to shower, she had come in to get her hairbrush. Their eyes met and Harry could have sworn that something had audibly snapped. She came into his arms and they did not stop until they had taken and given everything to each other. Harry went about showering while Hermione stole back to her room.

Becoming serious, Harry asked, "Did you want to talk to Ginny about this? About us?"

"Already taken care of," Hermione said simply. "She was suspicious about the way I was acting and started interrogating me." She wrinkled her nose, "I don't know what we're going to do once we walk back into Hogwarts, but I'm sure it'll be all over the school once Ginny gets plugged back into the gossip network. You better tell Ron right now. If he finds out from Ginny... I really don't know how he'll take it."

She moved toward Harry, placing a hand on his chest. She opened her mouth to say something more, but seemed to rethink what she was going to say and instead simply kissed him on the nose.

For his part, Harry's skin tingled where her hand was and he was trying desperately not to let that tingling spread any lower. "I better get going. Wouldn't want Ron thinking that I'm too happy to see him."

Hermione giggled and pushed him back out into the hall.

Harry climbed the stairs to his and Ron's room. It still amazed Harry just how much he thought of this place as his rightful home. After one week at the Dursley's, Harry was 'rescued' by Hermione and brought right to the Burrow, all against the 'better judgement' of Albus Dumbledore. Harry's friends and the rest of the Order had unanimously decided that Harry could not stay cooped up forever, slowly being eaten away inside by grief and self-recrimination. They simply told the Headmaster to sit down and be quiet.

Harry was extremely grateful to the Grangers for coming for him, but he didn't think he showed his appreciation very well. He fell asleep for the entire ride with his head in Hermione's lap. He couldn't help falling asleep because Hermione insisted he lay down in the back seat. Even though he had been having nightmares it was so soothing with her fingers running through his hair. It seemed she had cast a spell of dreamless sleep over him and he had the best rest he'd had all year.

He was upset with himself over the fact that he had drooled onto Hermione's knee. She wasn't going to let him live that down. When no one was in listening range, she would quietly tease him about the "Famous, Drooling Wonder Boy".

Hermione was adamant and would not let Harry go off and sulk, as was his want. She constantly stayed with him, getting in his way except for some pickup Quidditch, and refused to be pushed away.

Harry finally broke down and ranted and sobbed and grieved in the welcome embrace of Mrs. Weasley, Ginny and Hermione. It was at this time that Harry told about the Prophecy to a stunned Ron, weepy Hermione and a resolved Ginny. Mrs. Weasley, on the other hand was apoplectic. She strode over to the fireplace and flooed off with a scowl and no indication of where she was going. She returned a short time later, none the worse for wear except for a couple of scorch marks on her shawl. She proceeded to make Harry all his favourite foods, information kindly provided by Hermione, and made him sit and eat nearly all of it in one sitting. Harry got a little worried that his broom might not be able to lift him that fall.

He was still subject to bouts of depression, but with Hermione watching she quickly displaced his bad moods with smiles, hugs and walks through the woods all the while holding onto his hand. Now, there was so much more.

Harry stepped into the room just as Ron finished dressing.

"Hey, you leave any water for the rest of us?" Ron quipped.

Harry just smiled at him sheepishly. How on earth was he going to tell him? "Uh, Ginny just went in after me, I mean after I was finished, so, uh, there there might not be. Any water left, I mean."

Ron just grinned. Judging from the look that stole over his best mate's face, Harry figured that he was in for some serious ribbing.

"So, Harry. Are you going to admit your feelings and rescue my little sister from that rotter Dean?"

Harry just looked at Ron like he'd been handed the Essay from Hell. Ron held his composure for about ten seconds and then let out a whoop. Harry had a quizzical look while watching Ron roll around on the floor and then let him have it with the pillows. "Oi! No fair! I wasn't ready."

"Too bad. As Keeper, you have to have eyes in the back of your head!" laughed Harry continuing to belt him with pillows in both hands. After the festivities, Ron settled back, chuckling.

"You know Harry, she still likes you."

Harry just shook his head as he put on his boxers. 'He isn't going to make this any easier, is he?' Harry asked himself.

"Ron," Harry started, "you know we're as close as brothers, right?"

"Of course, mate. You're an Honorary Weasley. I think Mum's going to go off the deep end if she can't get nominated as your official guardian."

"Well, if I'm your brother then doesn't that make Ginny my sister?" Harry watched as a revolted look crossed Ron's face. "Right."

"Sorry mate. I don't mean to push you, especially after that Chang bird and all. I just don't think Dean is right for her and after that bugger Corner, well ... I just don't like to think that she might get hurt, you know?"

"Ron, the only way she's going to get hurt is if she doesn't learn to duck bludgers," Harry said firmly pulling on his pants now. Ron just nodded. "Seriously, I do want to talk to you about someone," Harry said sitting down on the bed.

A look of realization crossed Ron's face followed by one of resignation. He leaned forward, arms crossed and elbows on his knees.

Harry wrung his hands for a moment then came to a decision. "You know there is a girl that I'm kinda interested in..."

"You mean Hermione, right?"

Harry's jaw was on the floor somewhere but he couldn't bring himself to scrabble around for it right now. Mutely, he nodded.

"She's a great kisser isn't she?"

Now Harry was sure that his tongue had snapped off it's roller and was flopping around on the floor. "What...what...when?" Harry finally managed.

Ron came over and patted Harry on the back a bit before sitting down opposite him. "You were a bit preoccupied last year, mate. You were locked up at those relatives of yours and then you were trying to make a go of it with Chang. And there was Hermione and me at Headquarters..." Here Ron trailed off, but Harry was a little relieved to see the look on Ron's face, like it was a bad memory. "I'm not saying that Hermione isn't great..."

'I'm not going to be jealous,' Harry repeated to himself.

"It's just that she and I don't mix well, you know?"

"Yea, I know. You're talking to your referee here, remember?" Harry quipped.

Ron grimaced. "I'm not explaining this well." He looked off into space for a moment, and then came back to Harry. "Look. There is this Weasley family trait; apparently it's in the blood or something. We are all jealous, smart mouthed little gits. We can't help it, we just are. Some are better at hiding it than others, like Ginny, or they redirect it, like the twins. When school was over and we got home Ginny laid into me right in front of Mum about my behaviour with Hermione..."

Harry interrupted, "Just how much have I missed here?"

"Oh, not much really," Ron said. "The two of us couldn't keep it going with school and everything. Hermione will not let anything get in the way of her precious schoolwork, just so you know," Ron grinned. "Then Mum and Dad sat me down and had 'The Talk'."

Harry got the impression this was a very lengthy discussion.

"I realised what was different about me that would never work with Hermione. My fuse is too short, my temper too long and I couldn't stand not being the centre of Hermione's attention. While we were at Head Quarters we could be in each others limelight, being as there wasn't much else to do except worry about you."

Harry was touched. He could feel the beginnings of an aneurysm coming on.

"But when I'd come back from training or prefect duties she wouldn't get up and hug me or blow me a kiss or any of a number of other things I think a couple should have," Ron finished shaking his finger at nothing in particular. "You know what she did want to share? Knitting. Can you imagine me knitting? That's a witch's job."

A full heartbeat passed before Harry blurted out, "Shocking! Just shocking." Harry thought back to when Hermione had asked him if he would like to try knitting. He blinked and shook his head. Thankfully Ron hadn't noticed Harry's lack of attention.

"Ron, you can't expect someone with Hermione's brilliance to stay home and cook dinner. She'll want a career and rewards...."

"That's what Mum said. She said I was looking for someone like her in Hermione."

"I can tell you right now it isn't there," said Harry. "Not that Hermione isn't a kind and caring person, she is, but she's not Mum. Mum is this great person who gets so much out of how and what her family does. She's proud of all our accomplishments and she's fine with that, but Hermione wants to get out there and do those things for herself."

Ron just sat there, grinning at him.

"What?"

"That's the first time you've spoken about Mum without calling her my mum. You've claimed your right to be in this family."

"Sorry, I shouldn't..."

"No. No, it's right that you're here. You've become part of us; you've every right to call her Mum."

Harry looked at Ron as though he'd lost his mind. "Who are you and what have you done with my friend?"

"Ha ha." Ron quipped. "Contrary to popular belief, I don't have the depths of a puddle. I know it was only a week apart but I got a lot of thinking done in that week."

"Still," said a voice from the hallway, "in order to plunge those depths you will need a pickaxe."

"Ha ha to you too, Hermione," was Ron's sarcastic reply.

Hermione came into the room, grinning like the proverbial Cheshire Cat and sat beside Harry. "So is everything OK? I mean since I didn't hear an explosion or furniture being torn to shreds..."

"No, Hermione. Tearing apart furniture is the soul providence of your cat. I swear, Harry, that bloody thing still hates me. You'd best watch your step."

"Yes, well Ron if you had watched your step and not trod on his tail so many times..."

"There. You see? I didn't go out of my way to step on that overgrown puffball. He purposely positioned himself in every room and every hallway..."

Harry leaned back on the bed and put his hands behind his head. Those two could go on for hours so long as it didn't escalate. It seemed that Ron was ok with Harry and Hermione going out together and everything was shaping up nicely.

"Oi, Harry!"

He was being drawn in again to referee he just knew it.

"If she offers to cook for you, decline."

"Oh, that's nice."

"Honestly, you think her knitting is bad..."

"Ronald Weasley! Don't you dare say anything about my knitting! As for that meal, well, it wasn't completely burned."

"Not 'completely burned'? The chop was a burnt offering suitable for some pagan deity and even the veggies were crisped."

"I'll cook next time." They both turned and looked at Harry.

"You can cook, Harry?" Ron asked.

"Boy can he cook," quipped Hermione.

Blink.

"What?" Ron looked like he may start belching slugs again.

Hermione looked at Harry.

"I didn't get into any specifics, Hermione."

She started to change colour.

"Uh, guys you haven't done anything...inappropriate, have you?"

Hermione was going beet red and looking anywhere else in the room other than at Ron. By the way heat was creeping up his face, Harry could tell he was getting very red too.

"There isn't a private place in this whole house so where did you get ..." Ron couldn't finish his sentence.

"Well, if you're up early enough there's always the bathroom," Harry conceded.

"The bathroom!" Ron was looking horror struck and getting quite pale.

"Honestly, Ron. You'd think that no one every got, frisky, in the bathroom before," Hermione said still not looking at him.

"Oh Crud!" Ron wailed and bolted for the door. After exchanging confused looks, Harry and Hermione ran after him.

As they neared the door to the bathroom they could hear Ron's voice, "You are not to say anything to anyone about what you saw, understand? Not Mum, not Dad, not the twins not even Ginny, OK?"

"Oh but Ginny is always polite to me, not like the rest of you lot. And she did ask ever so nicely...." The mirror answered.

Fin.