Learning

Hermione cried on John's shoulder for a while longer while John patted her on the back soothing her sorrow.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes," Hermione said through moistened red eyes.

Hermione broke out in tears again. After nine years, she thought that she had recovered from Harry's death, but she would occasionally find herself crying out of the blue. She continued to bawl.

"Why don't we sit down," he motioned to the bed.

Hermione sat at the edge and John sat next to her. The curtains were neatly swept to the side and Hermione's feet dangled inches above the ground while John's feet were planted firmly on the wooden floor. Hermione fell backwards into the compilation of her elegantly made bed with a thrump, sinking into the full blankets and soft mattress.

John lay on his side next to Hermione. He wiped a tear before it was able to trickle down her temple. Jumping up on the bed he dragged Hermione so that she was lying properly in bed. He draped an arm around her trembling form.

"Please don't cry," he said somewhat uncomfortably. "I didn't mean for these images to offend you. I wanted to show you my powers."

Hermione sat up and looked at him. Her eyes were filled with tears and her face was streaked and red.

"You can manipulate fire?"

"Yes."

"Can you produce fire?"

"No," John replied in a disappointed tone. "I've tried, but it is a rarity that a person with such abilities to even manipulate it exists. I was once told that I was a god among insects. Foolishly, I believed it."

"I can produce fire," Hermione said once again realizing the narcissism. "I read about it in How to Start a Fire the Magical Way. It was a suggested reading before my first year at Hogwarts."

"You attended Hogwarts?" John smiled happy that he had distracted her from her foreboding memories.

Hermione wiped her face with the sleeve of her robes. "Yes, a long time ago."

"I guess that it makes sense," John said. "You are a witch and a majority of professors at this institution are former students. From what I understand Hogwarts produces some of the most notable witches and wizards, not to say famous."

"Indeed," Hermione smiled though her eyes were still filled with tears.

"Show me how to produce fire with a wand," he offered. "Can you teach me?"

"Sure," she sniffled smiling a bit. "I am a professor! Take my wand."

She pulled her wand out of her robes and gave it to John. He grasped the small wand and wait for further instructions.

"Now grip it firmly, but make sure that you're not losing circulation," Hermione said. "Flick your wrist and say, lacarnum inflamarae."

"What, what?"

"Lacarnum inflamarae," Hermione repeated. "Wait. Give me the wand."

He gave the wand back to her and she set it on the table next to her bed. "I think that you should practice saying the spell first. The other thing is that you need something to light on fire."

"Well, if I am able to produce fire with a wand, then I can control it once it has been produced."

"Alright," Hermione agreed though apprehensively. "Say it with me, lacarnum inflamarae."

"Lackarnun inflamaire."

"Not quite," Hermione giggled. "Try again."

He kept trying pronouncing it differently every time. Finally he got it.

"Good!" Hermione said, picking up the wand and handing it to him. "Now, try it with a wand."

He took the wand.

"Swish and flick," Hermione said without realizing that the exact same words had come out of Professor Flitwick's mouth.

"Lacarnum Inflamarae," he said and flicked the wand's end. A yellow, red and orange burst of light came from the end of the wand. John held his hand out and beckoned the fire to him before it could catch on the bed.

"Sweet!" he said with excitement. "I did it!"

Hermione had a look of panic on her face but managed to say, "good job."

He did it a couple more times playing with the fire. Hermione and John finally fell asleep. Hermione dreamt that night that she had made a new friend.