Growing Wings

Laying in the summer grass,

You told me not to talk so fast

As I told you just how I felt.

- Good Charlotte, Seasons

Growing Wings

~~

Harry, who had always loved Hermione for herself, was, in a way, shocked when he found out she was going to grow wings. He didn't know how he could handle it, but he promised himself, and secretly to Hermione, that he would understand completely.

When Hermione dragged him to the library to help her find some books on the Alliptonites, they found nothing, and Harry was so full of questions. He wanted to know just why this was happening to the girl he loved. He was just about to give up when a book with a tattered spine and moldy-looking words on it caught his attention. It looked like an ordinary book, more than likely something on potions, but something about it had drawn him to it. Like it had sensed Harry needed information, and it could give it to him. He moved closer to the book and squinted at the words on the spine.

"Alliptonia Règle dans les 1800's?" Harry repeated. He pulled it off the shelf and opened it to the middle. It was written in French, and Harry had to use a Translation Spell to read it. He thumbed through it and found all sorts of informaton, how Alliptonites originated, how they had lured those human men to rescue themselves, and why some witches ended up with wings nowadays. It told of the story of Martha Mitchgrump, a middle-aged witch who was quite pretty for her age, and her case of wings. There was even a picture of her with her wings. She looked downcast and her brown, wavy hair fell in her face. She occasionally looked up and batted her honey brown eyes down again, as if waiting for Harry to stop staring at her. Her hair revealed her wings from the back, and they looked almost like large eagle wings, with brown, silky-looking feathers that protruded from her shoulders, making them look natural. Harry goggled at the picture, and his thoughts returned to his current case of wings at hand. I should tell Hermione, but I'll wait. I'll show her later.

He slipped the book in his bag and left to find Hermione again. He looked up and down the aisles, but found her sitting down at an empty table. She was sitting with her arms folded and her head resting on them. She looks cute that way...like she's been studying too much. He sat down in a chair across from her.

"Find anything," he asked, hoping for a "yes." She shook her head and asked, "What about you? Even a little hint of them?"

He panicked a little and stuck with his decision beforehand.

"No."

"This is so confusing," she said.

Harry was startled when he heard Ron's voice coming from behind him.

"Oi, Hermione, whatever happened to your back itching? Did Madame Pomfrey give you a cream?" Harry waited for Hermione's reaction, to see if she was going to tell him. There was a small pause in the conversation, and then Hermione said, "Yeah, she gave me a cream. It stopped the second it touch my wi...ahh... I mean back."

Harry's eyes widened at the remarkable lie Hermione had just told Ron. He turned around to look at Ron, who just shrugged as if she was just tongue-tied.

"At least it doesn't itch, right," he said. Harry looked back at Hermione who simply nodded.

"Well mates, I'm off to search for that sleeping draught Professor Snape assigned us. I'm a bit far behind," he said. Harry smiled to himself; Ron was never one to study for Potions.

"Wow, Ron. I think that's the first and only time I'll ever hear YOU say you want to study," Harry heard Hermione say that was followed by a giggle.

"Ha, ha," Ron said sarcastically. He turned on his heel and headed straight for an aisle of books. Harry still had a look of confusion on his face. He turned to her and asked, "Why didn't you tell him?"

Hermione look at Harry, and then the smile on her face faded off as she looked at the table. She bit her lip and looked as if lost in thought.

"I... I...panicked," she said softly.

Harry thought about it. Well, if it was me, I'd panic too, and there's always Ron's temper to consider. He smiled at her and nodded.

"You won't tell anyone, will you Harry," she said with a bit of a pleading tone in her voice. He wasn't going to tell anyone without her consent, anyways, so it didn't matter to him.

"No, I promise."

Her face relaxed and she smiled.

"Thanks," she said, her voice barely audible.

~~

Harry sat down on the couch in the Gryffindor common room. He was planning out how he should tell Hermione. Just why exactly hadn't he told her? He had the book lying in his lap, unopened, while he was staring off into the fireplace. His mind was racing with ways to tell Hermione about the book. If he told her, she'd want to know why he didn't tell her in the library. But if I tell her I went back to look for something in the library, and it crossed my path, maybe she'll believe me? Then, a sort-of force made him look behind him, and to find Hermione standing at the foot of the stairs in an awed expression looking straight at him, but her eyes seemed to be unfazed.

"Hermione," he called.

She seemed to come back to reality and said, "Oh, sorry Harry I didn't see you."

"You were looking right at me."

She blushed a crimson color and started to walk over to the couch Harry was sitting in and took a seat next to him. Harry furrowed his brow and asked, "What's wrong, 'Mione?"

She looked up at him and smiled. It made Harry's stomach twist into a knot, but he smiled back. You git! You probably look like an idiot!

A minute went by, and then Hermione looked down and said softly, "You."

Harry's heart plummeted and his face contorted into one of confusion. "Me? What's wrong with me?"

"Nothing, it's just..." she looked up to meet his eyes and Harry wanted to lean over and meet her lips to his. Thankfully, he didn't need to; Hermione had done it already.