Chapter Text
Chapter 1 - Everything Has Changed
Autumn 1993
"Right-- Who wants ter go first?" Hagrid bellowed happily across the yard, as if the gigantic Hippogriffs were small rabbits instead of the huge, monstrous-looking creatures they actually were.
The entire crowd of Gryffindors and Slytherins behind Hermione shifted backward, and Hermione unconsciously followed suit. She wasn't sure about this, and by the looks of Harry and Ron, they weren't either.
"No one?" Hagrid said. He looked a bit hurt, and his eyes scanned the class, looking for someone, anyone to help demonstrate.
“I’ll do it.” Harry replied suddenly, stepping forward and climbing over the fence to where the Hippogriffs resided. Hagrid greeted him gladly, and began to explain what he would be doing.
Hermione knew she should trust Hagrid on this, but somehow, she had a feeling that this was going to turn out really, really, badly.
Ron stepped closer to Hermione. "Hermione, you don't reckon Hagrid is going to let Harry go near that t-thing... right?"
"I think he is..." Hermione replied, not taking her eyes off Harry.
Harry stared at the creature, and after a few moments, the creature looked up with its menacing orange eyes. Harry then gave a bow, short but meaningful, and waited for a reaction from the Hippogriff.
The whole class seemed to be holding their breath, waiting for a reaction as well, but nothing seemed to happen. The creature just sat there, looking even more menacing.
Harry was instructed to back away.
Oh no. Hermione thought, grabbing onto Ron’s hand for support.
Suddenly, the creature ruffled its feathers and bowed on its scaly knees.
The whole class applauded, but Hermione was in too much shock and relief to react any further.
Harry was then asked to ride the Hippogriff. Hermione was no longer worried. Harry was a brilliant flyer, so surely he could sit on the back of a flying creature in the air for a few moments.
Her grip on Ron’s hand loosened in relief.
Wait. She was willingly holding Ron’s hand. Ron’s hand.
The hand of the boy who had called her a nightmare in first year, who had accused her cat of tormenting his rat, who she couldn't just get along with.
But this was also the hand of the boy who helped saved her from a troll, attempted to hex Malfoy in her defense even though his own wand was out of commission, and made her laugh time and time again.
Snap out of it Hermione. This is Ron.
She cautiously looked over at Ron. Unbeknownst to her, his face was frozen in a pleasant look of surprise, but he didn't dare let it last long.
Ron looked over as well. Their eyes met, and slowly crept down to their clasped hands. A blush took over Hermione's cheeks.
Ron's ears tinted red, and they let go, rubbing on the spots where their hands touched.
I only did that because I was scared. Hermione told herself, as Harry landed after his flight, and the rest of the class joined him in the paddock.
Another voice awoke in the back of her mind. Okay then, it said, But why did you like it?
Hermione had no answer.
Winter 1993
The fire crackled in the fireplace of the Gryffindor Common room as Ron threw another piece of paper into the flames. The fire would grow brighter for a short moment, before crackling out to a small flame once more. It was about eleven o’clock at night, and the Gryffindor Common Room fire was slowly turning to ashes.
Footsteps echoed from the girls' staircase, and Hermione entered the room.
Ron, unconsciously, felt his cheeks grow warm for just a moment, but he had no idea why. It was just Hermione after all.
"Incendio," Hermione pointed her wand at the fireplace, and flames triumphantly burst out of the ashes.
Ron silently cursed himself. Of course, why didn't I think of using magic on the fire? Idiot…
The pair didn't say anything to each other for a long while. After what seemed like forever, Hermione coughed. "So, have you been studying for the potions exam tomorrow?"
Ron froze, and stared at the pile of ripped paper in front of him. On the corner of one of them he could see written, in his own handwriting, 'Level 3 Potions Requirements'. He had been throwing his own notes into the fire. I’m dead. Completely and utterly dead.
Hermione seemed to notice as well, for her face had turned from awkward, yet calm, to disappointed. "You threw your notes into the fire?!" She looked about to start screaming at him, but then the redness in her face faded, and she sighed. "I'll help you study."
"What? I wasn't even going to..."
She placed a hand on his shoulder. "It's fine. Really, I was just going to go earn some extra credit, but I don't really need that..."
She doesn't need it? Hermione, bookworm extraordinaire and teacher's pet, doesn't want extra credit?
“Thanks, ‘mione.” Ron replied, pausing for a moment, “...but if I fail I’m blaming you!”
Hermione laughed. “I don’t think that’ll happen.”
Hours later, at around three o’clock in the morning, all the notes had been gone through and all concepts reviewed. Classes would be starting in five hours, and Hermione looked about ready to collapse. Her already bushy hair was sticking up, and she had developed dark circles under her eyes. Ron himself just wanted to lie down and get at least a few hours of sleep.
Ron picked up his books. "Thanks, Hermione, but I reckon we should both get to bed."
"Are you...sure you're ready?" Hermione yawned, rubbing her eyes.
"Yes, I am."
Hermione nodded and got up as well. "Good night." She lingered for a moment, just inches away from Ron, before blushing and leaving the room.
All night, Ron couldn't sleep; he couldn't stop thinking about what had just happened. Merlin's beard! What was Hermione doing? She was acting really strange… almost as if...
No. Definitely not.
Still, Ron felt content for some odd reason, and he was positive that it didn't have anything to do with Hermione whatsoever.