A/N: Thanks for the continued support and feedback on this story. You guys are all wonderful. Special thanks to my new betas James and Kristin who corrected all my stupid errors-you guys are amazing.
The first thing that Harry realized when he woke up was that he wasn't alone. It wasn't because Hermione was still curled up in his arms. No, he felt the absence of her presence immediately. He could feel eyes on him, lots of eyes, and it made his skin prickle slightly. He stretched, surprised when he heard a little cry.
"He's awake! He's moving!"
"Molly, dear… give the poor boy a chance to open his eyes…"
Harry slowly opened his eyes, trepidation creeping over him. He nearly rolled on his glasses, which lay in a little heap next to his pillow. He pushed them up his nose, blinking in confusion at the crowd that was gathered around his bed.
Mrs. and Mr. Weasley, Lupin, Tonks, Mad-Eye, Hagrid, Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, and Madam Pomfrey were all staring down at him. Harry swallowed, feeling like he was some kind of ancient artifact on display.
"Hi…" Harry greeted hesitantly.
Mrs. Weasley, with a little cry, hugged him tightly. Harry flushed in embarrassment, though quite pleased by her obvious worry. She pulled away from him, studying him through narrowed eyes.
"When was the last time he had a decent meal?" she demanded loudly.
Then, Harry wasn't quite sure what happened, but everyone began talking at once.
"I assure you," Madam Pomfrey said loudly. "All my patients are properly taken care of!"
"Molly, dear, I'm sure Harry has more important things to worry about then his stomach…" Arthur Weasley attempted to say soothingly.
"Possession, eh?" Moody barked. "Never give them a moment, Potter! NEVER GIVE AN INCH!"
"Moody, please… like he could have prevented what happened!" Tonks admonished loudly.
Hagrid was trying in vain to blink back tears. "Knew yeh'd beat `em in the end, Harry! What our Hermione did fer yeh... absolutely amazin'…"
Lupin just looked at him in concern. "Are you feeling alright, Harry?"
"I… uh… yeah…" Harry said, overwhelmed.
Dumbledore cleared his throat loudly, silencing the crowd around Harry's bedside immediately. "I know many of you are very concerned about Harry's health. Rest assured, he is doing remarkably well, given the circumstances."
Madam Pomfrey sniffed. "It's remarkable, alright. Mr. Potter here seems to think himself exempt from the most basic of rules. There will be no sharing beds in this hospital wing!"
Harry blushed a deep crimson red and resisted the urge to ask where Hermione was. Instead, still blushing, he asked, "What time is it?"
"Middle of the afternoon," Madam Pomfrey answered, still looking rather annoyed. "Slept straight through the morning and it isn't any wonder… I can only imagine how late you were up last night…"
Harry was blushing so deeply he was afraid his face might burst into flames. "That's, err…." He looked at Dumbledore pleadingly.
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Breaking more school rules, Harry?"
"It's, you see… we were… nothing happened…."
"Hmmm," Dumbledore said thoughtfully, but Harry was very much relieved to see that he switched the topic. "As you can see, Harry successfully managed to fight off Voldemort's newest attack…"
"An attack," Moody cut in, "that should not have happened in the first place. Never give them an inch, Potter. Never leave yourself an opening."
"I, err… thanks," Harry answered weakly.
Hagrid clapped him on the shoulder. "Yeh're alright now, Harry." His eyes glistened. "Gave us all quite a scare, but yeh're alright."
"Yeah, I am. I mean…I'm fine…"
Madam Pomfrey sniffed again. "Hardly," she said, looking at him shrewdly. "It's nothing a few more days of bed rest won't cure, but you are far from being fine."
Harry began to sweat lightly. He appreciated all the concern, but it was exhausting.
Professor McGonagall seemed to take some kind of pity on him. "Perhaps," she said crisply, "visitors should be admitted one at a time, so as not to overwhelm Mr. Potter."
"Excellent idea, Minerva," Dumbledore said immediately.
She fixed him with a piercing gaze. "It's a wonder why you didn't think of it first."
"Old age, you know," Dumbledore said easily. "One forgets these things."
Moody hummed rather loudly, his fake eye staring intently at Harry. It made Harry squirm uncomfortably. "No need," he said loudly. "I've seen my proof. Glad to have you back, Potter."
Moody clunked loudly out of the hospital wing, and Harry stared after him, slightly dazed.
"Ahhh," Dumbledore said serenely. "The trust that runs between longtime friends."
Harry just stared at him.
"Moody didn't believe Dumbledore that you'd managed to overcome Voldemort's possession," Tonks explained. "He wanted to check on you himself."
"Oh… well, that was good of him."
At that moment, Mrs. Weasley thrust a tray loaded up with food onto Harry's lap. "Eat up, Harry dear. You'll get some of your colour back…"
Harry stared at the food, feeling slightly queasy. The last thing he wanted to do was munch away while practically every person he'd ever met watched him. Seeing the eager look on Mrs. Weasley's face, however, Harry picked half-heartedly at the mashed potatoes.
Lupin put a reassuring hand on Harry's shoulder. "I'm proud of you, Harry," he said quietly. "We all are."
Harry gave Lupin a small smile, feeling a rush of gratitude. "Thanks… that means a lot."
Lupin nodded at him and turned to go, bringing Tonks with him. Hagrid left, too, after several pointed looks and loud throat clearings from McGonagall.
Feeling like he had less of an audience, Harry dug more eagerly into the food Mrs. Weasley had scrounged up for him, feeling a sudden hunger burning away into his stomach.
Alone with the Weasleys, Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Madam Pomfrey (who continued to frown at him disapprovingly), Harry finally worked up enough courage to ask the question he'd been wondering since he'd awoken.
"Where's Hermione?"
Mr. and Mrs. Weasley exchanged a look.
"Class, Harry," Dumbledore answered calmly.
"Oh," Harry said, trying not to sound too disappointed.
Arthur Weasley cleared his throat, and paced rather nervously. "Harry…" he began hesitantly. "There's something you should know."
Harry set down his fork, his hunger going as quickly as it had come. "What?" he asked uneasily.
"The Ministry's very… distraught over what happened to you. The wizarding world is clambering for answers. And, well…" Arthur glanced at Dumbledore. "We didn't think it would be appropriate for us to make any statements without your consent."
"It's not their business!" Mrs. Weasley cut in shrilly. "What right do they have to harass him, Arthur? After all that he's been through…"
Arthur Weasley shook his head sympathetically. "I'm sorry, Harry," he said honestly. He let out a long sigh. "The longer the wizarding world goes without answers… the worse the questions become."
Harry stared down at his hands before nodding grimly. "Okay," he said.
He didn't miss the looks that the adults shared over his head.
"There are ways to go about it," Mr. Weasley continued gently. "Perhaps we can release some kind of statement to the press. Fudge is fairly eager to prove your innocence…"
Professor McGonagall glanced at Dumbledore, a slightly amused expression on her face. "I can't imagine why that would be. Albus?"
"No idea, Minerva," he said seriously. "None at all…"
"I'll give another interview," Harry said quietly. "I've done it before… with the Daily Prophet."
"Harry, dear, there is no need to let those…" Mrs. Weasley shuddered. "Those people profit from what happened to you. A simple statement, support from the Minister…"
"No," Harry said sharply. "People will never believe it until they hear right from me." He looked at them, determined. "I'll do it tomorrow."
"Very well, Harry," Dumbledore said sadly. "Would you like me to be present again?"
Harry shook his head. "No, that's okay. I have someone else in mind. Someone much more… intimidating."
"Is that so?" Dumbledore said mildly, stretching. "Well, now that I've received such a generous compliment… coming, Minerva? I feel like a cup of tea. Perhaps mint would be nice…"
Minerva pursed her lips. "It's good to have you back, Potter."
Harry managed a small nod and she followed Dumbledore out of the room, walking somewhat stiffly.
Harry set his tray of food off to the side. He felt the old familiar headache brewing behind his forehead, making him wish desperately for Hermione.
Heavy-eyed, he blinked sleepily at the Weasleys. "Thanks for coming all this way for me."
Mrs. Weasley patted his hand. "We were worried, dear."
Harry yawned, feeling sleepy again. Madam Pomfrey eyed him suspiciously, watching him like a hawk. Harry shook his head, attempting to clear his mind.
The doors to the hospital wing burst open and Harry grinned as Ron and Hermione ran in, breathing heavily and looking slightly flushed.
"Dumbledore said you were awake!" Hermione said eagerly, approaching him. "We really wanted to see you… you know, before you fell asleep again…"
"How much sleep can he get, Hermione?" Ron asked, bemused. "It's all he's bloody done for the past week." And then, suddenly embarrassed, "Mum? Dad? What are you doing here?"
"Visiting Harry," Arthur Weasley answered. "You didn't think Molly would let them shut her out forever, did you?"
"Of course not," Hermione answered, smiling. "It's a perfectly understandable reaction."
Harry caught her eye and grinned. She smiled back, reaching his bedside and kneeling beside it.
"Well!" Mr. Weasley continued, clearing his throat slightly. "Work calls. Best of luck tomorrow, Harry."
Pecking his wife on the cheek, Arthur Weasley hurried off.
Hermione looked at Harry, eyes wide. "I'm sorry I wasn't here when you woke up."
"It's okay. Classes are more important…"
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Not for me, they aren't. I told you, I'm weeks ahead of what they've been doing. However," Hermione opened her bag and dumped a large number of books on his lap. "I did collect all your assignments for you."
Harry goggled at the sheer number of books and parchments on his lap. He swallowed. "I… uh… thanks…"
Ron took one look at the pile of books on Harry's laugh before collapsing in a fit of hysterical laughter.
Harry continued to gape at his homework assignments.
"You know you're still dangerously behind, Harry."
Ron finally gained control of himself. "Well I think that being possessed by You-Know-Who and landing in the hospital qualifies as a good excuse for not getting his work done, Hermione!"
Hermione glared at Ron. "Harry wants to catch up," she said witheringly. "Don't you, Harry?"
Harry glanced at Ron. Then he glanced back at Hermione. He shrugged.
Hermione looked furious. Harry gulped.
"Hermione," he tried soothingly. "It's not that I don't want to catch up… I just… I don't think I have the energy right now."
She peered at him through narrowed eyes, clearly suspicious. "Exams are coming up, Harry and if you have any desire to pass them at all-"
"Yeah, I know," Harry cut in, pre-empting a very familiar lecture. "Just give me some time, okay?"
Hermione still looked suspicious. "Okay, you have two days. I'll have to modify my schedule somewhat, but if you work hard, I think that we can fit it all in."
"Erm, yeah." Harry said, somewhat horrified that she already had a schedule drawn up for him. "Yeah… that sounds good…" Harry's eyes suddenly lit up. "Hey, you know what would be a really good reward for doing well?"
"Not getting kicked out of Hogwarts?"
Harry hated it when she had a point. Deflating slightly, he closed his eyes. "Yeah. That's a pretty good one, I guess."
Hermione leaned forward until she could whisper in his ear. "Honestly, Harry, it's not like we need an excuse to snog. If you want to kiss me… well, I probably wouldn't say no."
Harry's mind was nagging him on what "probably" meant when Mrs. Weasley cleared her throat. The three teenagers looked at her, having forgotten that she was still in the room. She looked near tears.
"Is it really true?" she asked, her eyes on Ron. "I've been trying not let myself get influenced by the papers-Merlin knows, nothing they write is ever true-but my son never bothers to update me…"
"It's true," Ron said immediately, shifting uncomfortably. "I have a girlfriend."
Whatever Mrs. Weasley had been expecting, it wasn't that. She stared at Ron for a moment, completely shell-shocked. Harry was having a similar reaction. Even Hermione looked surprised.
Ron blushed. "Well, you know how those papers can be misleading…" he trailed off and winked at Harry and Hermione before turning back to Mrs. Weasley. "Her name's Luna. She's a friend of Ginny's, Mum, I'm sure you've met her. We've been… seeing each other for a while now."
"Lovegood?" Mrs. Weasley questioned, sounding a little faint. "Oh, Ron… don't you think she's a little… not all there?"
Ron's blush increased. "Yeah, she's a little mad. So what?" he asked hotly. "We're all a little mad, when you get right down to it! She probably has the right idea! She doesn't bother to pretend or make excuses for what she is!"
Mrs. Weasley blinked at her son for a short amount of time before managing to get a hold on herself. Ron looked mortified when Mrs. Weasley gathered him up in a tight hug. "Oh, Ronald!" she wailed, loudly. "You're growing up so fast!"
"Mum," he hissed, face turning even redder. "Let go of me… Harry's watching… ow! That hurt! YOU HAVEN'T LET GO YET!"
Mrs. Weasley pulled away and attempted to smooth some of Ron's hair down. "My little Ronald… growing up so fast…"
"Yeah… that's right," Ron said. "So that's… the news. Luna and I are a… couple." At the word couple, Ron turned slightly green, looking a little sick.
Mrs. Weasley fussed over Ron for another moment before turning back to Harry and Hermione, looking distinctly warmer. "Well," she said, cheerfully. "I should probably be going, then. I'm glad to see that you're recovering quickly, Harry, dear. Good luck tomorrow."
As soon as Mrs. Weasley left the room, Ron threw himself into the armchair by Harry's bedside, still looking rather green. Harry and Hermione gaped at him in surprise.
"Bloody hell," he muttered. "I have a girlfriend. A girlfriend. I… dear Merlin…" Ron buried his face in his hands and moaned loudly.
Harry watched him in sympathy. "I hear you, mate. It definitely takes a while to sink in."
Hermione shot them both matching glares. "Oh, really?" she said icily. "Does it?"
In an attempt to distract her, Harry grinned at Ron widely. "So? When did it happen?"
Ron rubbed at his eyes. "I dunno!" he cried. "One moment we were enjoying a perfectly nice snog by the lake, under the full moon, next moment she pulled away and asked me if I was her boyfriend! What the hell was I supposed to say?"
Harry's feelings of sympathy increased. "Dear Merlin, I don't know. What did you say?"
"I said that of course I was! Next thing I knew she was crying! She blabbed on about how's she's liked me for years! And… then I was comforting her… and bloody hell! I have a girlfriend!"
"HONESTLY!" Hermione huffed loudly, tugging her hand out of Harry's grip. She stood up, looking furious. "You two are the most insensitive prats that I have ever had the misfortune to lay eyes on!"
Ron and Harry exchanged confused looks.
"Why?" they demanded, at the same time. "What did I do?"
Hermione whirled on Ron. "You!" she shrieked, pointing a finger in Ron's direction. "Playing with Luna's feelings that way! You knew how she felt about you! Of course she's your girlfriend! AND YOU WILL TREAT HER WITH ALL THE RESPECT THAT YOU CAN POSSIBLY MUSTER! DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?"
Ron's eyes were very wide. "Hermione, you know, you're really quite frightening-"
Ron made a choking noise when Hermione's eyes actually flashed at him. Ron leaned backwards in his chair and hastily said. "I announced it to my mum, didn't I? I like her, don't I? I comforted her, didn't I? Do you know what the sight of a crying girl does to me, Hermione? THAT MUST MEAN SOMETHING!"
Hermione glared at him for another moment before whirling on Harry. "And you!" she yelled, pointing a finger in his direction now. Harry wished that he had the strength to run away. "Was this how you felt when we first started going out? Is that why you were in such a bad mood?"
"I…" Harry squeaked out, nervous. "I… I love you…" he tried weakly.
Hermione's eyes softened, but she still looked at him rather coldly.
Harry felt himself growing desperate. "C'mon, Hermione. You know how I feel about you. This isn't fair… we're talking about Ron and Luna. Completely different subject!"
"And hey!" Ron said suddenly, sitting up straighter. "Shouldn't you be on your knees thanking me? I completely diverted mum from asking about the two of you!"
Hermione looked uncertain. "That's true…"
"Thanks, Ron," Harry added.
Ron shook himself lightly before saying again, in a wondrous voice. "I have a girlfriend…"
"Yep," Harry said cheerfully.
"I have a Luna…"
"Yep," Harry said again.
Hermione made a vague sound of disgust in the back of her throat.
Harry, feeling like he was treading into dangerous territory, quickly said. "It's… having a girlfriend is well… it's a wonderful feeling, Ron. Really, it is. There's… you know, the snogging."
"True," Ron said, looking thoughtful.
"Disgusting pigs the lot of you," Hermione muttered angrily. "I can't believe that's all you think a relationship's about…"
Harry, suddenly feeling that Hermione's words would be followed by her wand, shifted his eyes to her and smiled warmly. "Of course it isn't," he said, trying to keep his tone light. "It's also about… being with the one person that understands you better than anyone else in the world. It's about knowing that you can tell them anything and they'll never judge you for it. It's about hurting when they are, smiling when they do. It's about… feeling empty when they're not around."
"Oh… Harry…" Hermione sniffed. "That was beautiful."
Ron looked disgusted. "That was nauseating! Hermione, what the bleeding hell have you done to him?"
Harry just grinned when Hermione sat back down at on the edge of his hospital bed and pressed her palm to his forehead. "Do you still hurt?"
"Oh… well… a little," Harry said, trying not to sound too hopeful.
"Really?" Hermione said softly. "What can I do to make it better?"
Harry feigned concentration. "I dunno, Hermione. It's… the pain takes a lot of energy, you know? It's hard for me to focus on anything else."
Her eyes clouded over in worry and she leaned closer to him. "So there's… nothing… I can do, then?"
"Well," Harry said. "There might be something."
He could feel her breath on his face now, her lips were so close that he could see her pink tongue nestled between her teeth. "What is that?" she whispered.
Harry let out a low moan of frustration. It was all the persuasion Hermione needed. She closed the distance between them and sighed happily as her lips met his. The kiss was short and sweet, as both were all too aware that Ron was still in the room. When Hermione pulled away, she found Harry's hand and settled herself comfortably on the bed next to him.
Ron was sitting rigid as a board, with one hand held over his eyes. "Are you two done yet?" When he received no answer, he slowly lowered his hand from his eyes and looked relieved to see that they were no longer kissing. He smirked widely, his eyes meeting Harry's. "So it really is all about the snogging."
Harry smirked back at him, glad that Hermione could no longer see him. "Ron! Whatever gave you that idea?" he said, in a scandalized voice.
Ron rolled his eyes. "Right. I can tell when I'm not wanted."
"You just want to go see Luna," Hermione replied knowingly.
"Yeah, remember," Harry added. "You're girlfriend."
Ron visibly twitched. "Shut up, Potter."
"Wow, this is really serious," Harry said, glancing at Hermione. "What do you think? See Ron going with her to Australia this summer to search for… I dunno… fish with arms?"
"Kangaroos with gills," Hermione said. "I can see things going in that direction."
Ron scowled. "Shut up."
"Snorckled hornhumps, perhaps?" Harry added.
"Crumple Horned Snorcacks!" Ron corrected immediately before clamping a hand over his mouth, looking horrified.
Harry and Hermione dissolved into a fit of laughter. Ron glared at them for a moment before stalking out of the room.
When Ron was gone, Harry focused back on Hermione. "So…" he said quietly. "How do you feel about doing me another favor?"
***
Harry was enjoying his breakfast when Madam Snow rushed into the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey looked less than delighted by this intrusion upon her patient, but Harry suspected that Dumbledore may have said something to her. In any case, Madam Snow looked gleeful when she dragged a chair next to Harry's bedside and pulled out her parchment and Quick-Quotes Quill.
Harry watched her, eyes widening when she appeared to be salivating.
"Potter," she said, an excited edge to her voice. "No Dumbledore here this time, hmm?"
Harry made a show of looking around. "Doesn't appear so."
Madam Snow leaned closer to him, her face breaking out into a huge smile. "He abandon you, Potter? Tired of sticking up for his star student? Afraid that you may have gone to the… dark side?"
"Actually," said Harry cheerfully. "It was because I asked him not to come."
Madam Snow raised a perfectly penciled eyebrow. "Hmm?" she said noncommittally. "Is that so?"
At that moment, Hermione rushed into the hospital wing, a load of books in her arms. "Oh, Harry!" she exclaimed, upon seeing him. "I'm not late, am I?"
Harry just grinned, seeing the shocked look on Madam Snow's face. "Nope," he said, happily. "Not late at all. Just in the nick of time." He turned his attention back to the reporter. "I hope you don't mind, but I asked Hermione to stay with me during the interview."
Hermione dumped the books on Harry's bed before leaning down to peck him on the cheek. She turned back around and frowned at Madam Snow. "I'm Hermione Granger, I believe we've met."
Madam Snow scowled darkly. Her eyes ticked slowly to Harry's face before settling back on Hermione's face. Some kind of light dawned in her eyes. "You… you two…" she said, excited, her annoyance at Hermione's appearance forgotten. "Back together, hmm?"
"Yes," Hermione answered, eyes narrowing when Madam Snow's quill began dancing across the parchment. "However, the purpose of this interview is for Harry to prove that he is not Voldemort, nor in league with Voldemort, so I hardly see this as an issue."
Madam Snow flinched. "Don't say his name, you stupid girl."
"Don't call her stupid," Harry said immediately, a warning edge to his voice.
Hermione smiled. "She's entitled to her own opinions." Smile widening, Hermione reached for one of the books she'd brought with her. She rifled through it. "Before we get started, I'm curious, how much are you planning on compensating Harry for this interview?"
"Compensating?" Madam Snow repeated, somewhat bewildered.
Harry, feeling confused himself, glanced at Hermione. She was too busy flipping through her book to pay him any mind.
"Well, yes, he will be dramatically boosting Prophet sales, will he not? It seems only fair that he receive something in return for it."
"You mean… like money?" Madam Snow asked, as if the concept was a new one for her.
"Well, sure," Hermione said. "If you're offering. I was thinking… I don't know… maybe ten percent of the profit?"
"Ten percent of the profit?" Madam Snow said shrilly, completely shocked.
Harry smirked and leaned back, prepared to let Hermione do all the work.
"You're right, it's not very much, is it? Considering the amount that you'll be making off this interview. Fifteen seems slightly more fair, perhaps."
"Potter agreed to this interview beforehand! There was no deal made for payment! It's promoting his self-interest! I refuse to give him a cent of what this paper makes!"
Hermione sniffed delicately and turned a page in her book. "Interesting…" she murmured. "Very interesting…"
Madam Snow leaned forward, looking annoyed as she did so. "What?"
"Apparently," Hermione said slowly, eyes flicking down the page. "There are very strict rules regarding the privacy of minors in the wizarding world."
Madam Snow took a step backwards, looking unsure. "Certainly, there are. However, Harry agreed to-"
"Yes, yes!" Hermione said, a bit impatiently, waving her hand in the air. "But the Prophet has written many, many articles without Harry's permission. Some of which haven't been flattering, and most of which have had to do with his personal life." Hermione shut the book with a snap and threw it back down on the bed. "According to Minors' Rights that is in direct violation of several of our Ministry's own laws."
Madam Snow was actually rendered speechless for a moment. "What… are you threatening me, my dear?"
Hermione just continued smiling. She picked up another book from the bed. Harry craned his neck to see the title, Violators of Wizarding Law. "It says here," Hermione said mildly, flicking through the pages. "That violating the privacy of minors is a very serious crime, indeed. There are very hefty fines involved. As for repeated offenses…" Hermione gave a mock shudder. "Prison… suspension of one's job…"
Shutting that book, she tossed it on the bed and picked up another one. This one read, Wizarding Court Cases. "There's a story in here, Madam Snow, that's very interesting. It's about a reporter who was sued for violating the privacy rights of a child. It was one of the shortest cases in our history. How much do you think the reporter owed after its completion?"
Madam Snow swallowed and pretended to examine her nails. "Completely ridiculous… it does not matter… we are not doing anything illegal…"
"The reporter lost everything," Hermione said, adding a sad note to her voice. "She's still paying that child back." She handed the book off to Harry, who took it, watching her with his mouth slightly agape.
Hermione pulled out her wand and tapped it in her hand thoughtfully. "How much do you think we could make if we decided to sue, Harry?"
"Um," Harry said, feeling completely useless. "A lot of money?"
"At least," Hermione said, a predatory look on her face. "All those articles the Prophet has written about you. Remember when they claimed you were going mad last year? That wasn't very nice of them, was it?"
"No, not particularly. It was… downright hurtful, really. I think it left a mark."
Hermione humphed. "Scarring, was it?"
"Um, yeah. Sure."
"What do you want?" Madam Snow finally said, a resigned note to her voice. She sighed. "Name your price."
Hermione looked delighted. "Well, I think fifteen percent is reasonable, provided Harry has no objections."
"Sounds good to me," Harry said quickly.
"And," Hermione added. "We want a fair interview. If I so much as see one more word implying that my boyfriend has joined Voldemort, the Prophet will be hearing from me, I assure you."
"Of… of course…" Madam Snow answered, sounding faint.
Harry beamed at Hermione. "You said I was your boyfriend," he whispered to her.
She just looked at him. "Well, you are."
"Yes, but… you said in such a protective tone," Harry said, grinning. "It was nice. You should do it again."
Hermione rolled her eyes at him before frowning in Madam Snow's direction. "Believe me, Madam Snow, I will be making copies of everything you write before they appear in tomorrow's paper. I highly suggest that you forego anything that's likely to piss me off."
Madam Snow looked at Hermione balefully and stopped her fast moving quill with a small humph.
"Since," she said softly, still glaring at Hermione, "Harry will be receiving such… generous payment for this interview, I think it's only fair that we include a section on your relationship. Since you two are so…" she paused, apparently searching for the right word. "Cute."
Hermione raised her eyebrows. "Fine, that sounds fair to me. What d'you think, Harry?"
Harry stared at her. "What?" he managed. "I mean, yeah, if you want to… but why do you want to, exactly?"
"Well," she said, still watching Madam Snow through narrowed eyes. "I'm tired of receiving hate mail from the Harry Potter Fan Club."
"Harry Potter Fan Club!" Harry said, in a choked voice. "I have a… a fan club?"
"Brilliant," Madam Snow said. "A one-on-one feature on how Harry has not joined the dark side… about the love that saved him… about… about his life's only love pulling him back from the brink of darkness!"
Hermione cleared her throat uncomfortably. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves," she said faintly.
Madam Snow's quill was already scribbling madly away.
Harry looked at it in slight trepidation. He reached for Hermione's hand.
"This interview is going to be long and painful," he said softly. "Keep your wand out, she's very good at distracting you so you aren't sure what she's writing. Don't ever answer any of her questions."
"Harry," Hermione said gently. "This is your interview, remember? Take your own advice."
"Right, right…" he said quickly. "I'm just saying, you never know! She might try and mess us up by asking you a question…"
"Just be honest," Hermione said softly, squeezing his hand. "Tell the wizarding world what they need to hear without jeopardizing too much."
"Along with all the juicy details of our relationship," he muttered. With a pained sigh, he turned to face the eager reporter. "It all starts 15 years ago, on the night that Voldemort first tried to kill me. That's when he gave me the scar on my forehead, connecting us in a way no one, not even Dumbledore, could have predicted…"
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