Chapter 28: The Red String of Fate and the Shrieking Shack Slide part-1
"You know," I said philosophically. "Maybe the universe is trying to tell you something, Hermione. Maybe you are just too restricted. You need to be free."
"I will free your teeth from your gums, Ronald," she threatened without lifting her head.
I checked my new skill.
Skill: Thermodynamic ControlDescription: Allows the user to manipulate the temperature of objects or small areas by up to fifty degrees Celsius.
I smiled. This was perfect.
"Harry," I said. "You look a bit hot too. You are sweating."
"I am fine," Harry said quickly.
(Thermodynamic Control: Increase temperature of Harry's Butterbeer.)
Harry picked up his mug. He took a big gulp.
"Hot!" he yelled, spitting the sudden boiling liquid back into the mug. "Blimey! That was cold a second ago!"
In his surprise, he jerked his hand. The mug tilted.
The Butterbeer spilled.
It poured directly into Hermione's lap.
"Ah!" she screamed, sitting up. "Cold! No, hot! Sticky!"
She jumped up. But her pants were still around her ankles inside the booth.
She fell back down. She landed heavily on Harry's lap.
Harry let out a grunt as the wind was knocked out of him. Hermione was now straddling him in the booth, soaked in sticky Butterbeer, her pants down, her jumper askew.
She looked at him. He looked at her.
Their faces were inches apart.
"Destiny," Harry whispered, his eyes dark and dilated.
Hermione blinked. She stopped struggling. She looked at Harry's lips. Then at his eyes.
"Harry?" she breathed.
For a moment, nobody moved. The air between them crackled with something that wasn't magic. It was the raw, teenage tension of two people who had been physically mashed together so many times that their personal bubbles had ceased to exist.
"Oh, get a room!" a drunk wizard shouted from the bar.
Hermione scrambled off him, pulling her pants up with frantic dignity. She sat back down, refusing to look at anyone.
"I need a straw," she said quietly. "I am going to drink this Butterbeer. And then I am going to melt into a puddle and evaporate."
Harry adjusted his robes, looking uncomfortable for a completely different reason now. He took a long drink of his own (now cooled) beverage.
I leaned back, satisfied. The mental conditioning was almost complete. Harry wasn't running away anymore. He was leaning in.
And Hermione? Hermione was realizing that safety was an illusion and perhaps, just perhaps, falling into Harry's arms wasn't the worst fate in the world.
(Next stop,) I thought. (The Shrieking Shack. It is dark, it is scary and it has plenty of loose floorboards.)
(System,) I added internally. (Does the shop sell any 'Fear Potentiators'?)
"Affirmative," the system replied. "But for now, you might want to check your 'Points'. You have unlocked a Milestone Reward."
(Oh?)
"Milestone: Ten Incidents of S-Class or Higher. Reward: 'The Red String of Fate'."
(The Red String of Fate?)
"A passive skill. It physically pulls two targets together if they move more than five meters apart. Duration: One hour."
I looked at Harry and Hermione, who were sitting in awkward silence, stealing glances at each other.
(Oh, this is going to be fun. They literally won't be able to stay away from each other.)
"Drink up, guys," I said cheerfully. "We have got a lot of sightseeing to do."
The wind outside the Three Broomsticks was still howling, stripping the warmth from anyone foolish enough to venture out. Hermione Granger, Harry Potter and I stood on the threshold, bracing ourselves against the gale.
Hermione was currently holding her jeans up with one hand, clutching her jumper closed with the other and looking like a soldier who had survived a war only to find the extraction chopper had been delayed.
"We should head back to the castle," Harry shouted over the wind. "It is getting late and honestly, I don't think my heart can take much more excitement."
"Agreed," Hermione chattered, her teeth clicking together. "I just want to go to my dormitory, get into bed and stay there until graduation."
"Come on," I said, pointing toward the path that led past the Shrieking Shack. "It is a shortcut to the carriages. Less time in the cold."
"The Shrieking Shack?" Hermione eyed the dark, twisting path suspiciously. "Ron, that path is steep. And icy. And haunted."
"It is not haunted," I lied smoothly. "Lupin told me the screams were just pipes. Besides, it cuts twenty minutes off the walk."
Harry looked at Hermione's shivering form. "Twenty minutes less freezing? Let us do it."
We started walking. The snow was deep, crunching loudly under our boots. I hung back a few steps, letting them take the lead.
(System check,) I thought.
Current Status:Name: Ron WeasleyActive Skills: Poltergeist Proxy, Thermodynamic Control, Illusion, Wind Manipulation.New Passive Skill: The Red String of Fate (Ready to Activate).
I watched the distance between Harry and Hermione. They were walking side-by-side, but carefully maintaining a "safety buffer" of about two feet, terrified that touching each other would trigger another wardrobe malfunction.
(Activate The Red String of Fate,) I commanded. (Targets: Harry Potter and Hermione Granger.)
"Skill activated," the system replied with a digital chuckle. "Targets are now tethered. Maximum separation distance: Five meters. Elasticity: High."
I grinned. An invisible, magical bungee cord now connected the Boy Who Lived to the brightest witch of her age.
We reached the crest of the hill overlooking the Shrieking Shack. The path narrowed.
"I will go first," Harry said gallantly. "I will check for ice."
He stepped forward, accelerating his pace to scout ahead. He moved three meters away from Hermione. Four meters.
Five meters.
Twang.
The invisible string reached its limit.
Harry didn't just stop; he was yanked backward as if a giant hand had grabbed his belt.
"Whoa!" Harry yelled.
He flew backward, his feet sliding on the snow.
Hermione, acting as the anchor, felt the corresponding tug forward.
"Ah!" she screamed.
They slammed into each other with a dull thud. Harry crashed into Hermione's back, his arms instinctively wrapping around her to stop them from falling.
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