Disclaimer: See Prologue.
Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who reviewed the prologue; I hope you enjoy this chapter as much.
Part 1: The Secret Betrayed, Friendship Tested
Hermione's first clue that something was wrong came from the owls she found waiting on her flat's balcony and then the flood of letters that came- and kept on coming. Hundreds of them at least.
She didn't have the time to open them in the morning but got a rude awakening in the form of the gaggle of reporters waiting outside her flat.
"Miss Granger! How long have you been seeing Harry Potter?"
"Why have you kept the relationship a secret?"
"Is there something you have to hide?"
"There's a rumor that Mr. Potter is also involved with the singer, Lucinda Throckmorton. Is she the reason that you've kept your relationship with Mr. Potter a secret? Has he been cheating on Miss Throckmorton?"
Oh dear God… This was a nightmare. She pinched herself, hard, and winced at the pain. This was really happening. Their secret had come out.
Later she would wonder about how. For now she just wanted to escape the intrusive questioning that bordered on rude at best. "No comment," was all she said, hurriedly Apparating to the St. Mungo's Apparating Point. Never had she been so grateful for St. Mungo's strict policy of forbidding reporters to enter than today.
Oh God, Harry… He wasn't in London; he'd told her yesterday that he was leaving to investigate some reports of Dark activity and he'd be gone for at least two days. At least he was safe from reporters, at least for the present. And then she grimaced at the thought that, since they wouldn't be able to find Harry, she'd be stuck with the brunt of the media's attention until he returned.
Hermione grimaced again, sighing at the thought.
This was going to be a very bad couple of days…
When she arrived home, apparating straight into her flat, never so thankful that she allowed limited Apparition directly into her flat, she found Ron waiting for her.
He wasn't smiling and she felt a sudden rush of dread. Dear Merlin, she hadn't wanted this… Had always known, even without her and Harry talking about it, that they would tell Ron themselves, first, before telling anyone else. He deserved nothing less. And now- it was too late for that…
"Ron, hi," she said rather lamely, hanging up her cloak and sitting down in the sitting room.
"Hi," he said flatly. "Why didn't you tell me and how long has this been going on?"
He threw a copy of Witch Weekly onto the table between them.
Beneath the rather lurid headline, "Secret Affair Between Harry Potter and Hermione Granger Revealed" was a picture of herself and Harry, kissing, in the alley last night and then another of them walking, holding hands, on their way to the Havens. In that picture, she and Harry kept exchanging looks that even in the rather grainy newspaper picture, were obviously those between lovers and not just friends. Slowly, she reached for the paper, skimming the article.
Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, long known as the most eligible bachelor in the Wizarding world, is apparently not quite as available as he would have us believe. It is now known through a special Witch Weekly report that he is having a secret affair with his supposed best friend, Hermione Granger. They were seen kissing passionately at a secret meeting point in muggle London before going to dinner and then Apparating away- to his or her flat, we presume.
Mr. Potter has always been adamant about preserving his privacy. Given recent revelations, one has to wonder why. What is Mr. Potter hiding that he didn't want his relationship with Miss Granger to be revealed?
The latest rumors concerning Mr. Potter's love life have involved the rising popular singer, Lucinda Throckmorton, whose lovely voice and equally lovely appearance have made her a favorite of witches and wizards alike. Mr. Potter and Miss Throckmorton were introduced several weeks ago at a gala honoring the recent graduates of the Auror Academy, at which Miss Throckmorton was a guest performer. Then they were seen having lunch together a few days afterwards. Given that Miss Throckmorton has been blushing at the mention of Mr. Potter, a relationship between the two seemed to be flourishing.
What, it must be asked, does Miss Throckmorton have to say to recent revelations? Has the Boy who Lived been stringing along more than one witch, taking advantage of his status as the Wizarding world's most eligible bachelor?
At this time, neither Mr. Potter, Miss Granger, nor their mutual best friend, Ron Weasley, have been reached for comment.
Witch Weekly must ask, however, with the rest of our readers, why the secrecy? Perhaps our Mr. Potter is not quite as upstanding and honest as he would like us to believe. Why else would he keep this affair a secret?
The article continued with a brief summary of Harry's life and their years at Hogwarts. There was also a related article repeating the old old story, from their 4th year, that Rita Skeeter had invented, and drawing all sorts of conclusions from it, none of them outright stated but all implying that Harry must be hiding some sort of dark secret.
"Oh God, what a bloody mess," she said, throwing the paper onto the table with a disgusted glare at it.
"Agreed." There wasn't the hint of a smile in Ron's voice, hard and flat as she'd never imagined Ron could sound. "Why didn't you tell me?" he asked more quietly again. And this time there was a thread of hurt in his voice. A hint of betrayal.
She looked up, meeting his eyes. "I'm sorry, Ron. We were going to tell you," she said lamely, knowing it sounded like an excuse even if it was the truth. She sighed. "I don't know why. We never really talked about it. It just seemed so new and so sudden, I guess Harry didn't want to face the curious questions. In case it just fizzled out and died." Even as she said the words, though, she wondered how true they were. Had Harry really thought that this would simply die a natural death, that the passion between them would just burn itself out quickly?
No. She couldn't think that of Harry; it wasn't like him to think like that. And somehow, even from the beginning, some small part of her mind and heart had known that this wasn't going to be a passing thing. This was for real, forever. There could never be anyone else for her but Harry… He had felt it too. Hadn't he?
She looked back at Ron, realizing she hadn't finished answering his question. "You know how Harry feels about the media and their hounding him about his private life. We should have told you, Ron, should have told you, trusting that you wouldn't tell anyone else if we asked you not to. It wasn't that we didn't trust you. I think we just wanted to keep it to ourselves for a little while; it was so sudden and we weren't sure of it at first… We didn't want to talk about it with anyone when we were still getting used to the idea ourselves. Ron, you understand, don't you?" she asked hopefully.
Ron sighed. "Yeah, I do. I almost wish I didn't because it would make it easier to be mad at you, but I do understand," he said slowly, almost reluctantly, after a bit of an extended silence.
She managed a smile, her first real one all day. "Thanks, Ron."
"How long has this been going on, though?" He sounded like himself again, simple curiosity in his tone.
"Seven weeks," she answered honestly. "It was after your mother's birthday dinner, after we'd walked you to your flat. Harry came in for a nightcap and- and…" She stopped, then began again. "We were just talking and- something happened." She lifted her hands in a gesture of uncertainty. "I don't even know exactly what changed or why, or who made the first move. It just-happened."
Ron smiled slightly. "Was it good?"
"Merlin, yes," Hermione burst out without thinking, and then blushed crimson. She couldn't believe she'd just said that, to Ron of all people. She was coming unhinged after the stress of the day and knowing that she'd have to bear the brunt of the press until Harry came back. She must be to just blurt that out.
Ron laughed in spite of himself at Hermione's embarrassment. "Good for you." He sobered, meeting her eyes. "Does he make you happy, Hermione?" he asked quietly.
She smiled, the expression in her eyes softening unconsciously. "Yes, he does." A short pause and then she admitted, "I think I love him, Ron."
Ron sucked in his breath slightly at those words, an odd expression crossing his face. He could accept that his best friends were dating and even that they were sleeping together. And yet-- He couldn't help a slight flare of something when he heard Hermione confess that she loved Harry. It wasn't jealousy, per say; he wasn't jealous of them. But some small part of him, maybe the petty side of his mind, couldn't help feeling a pang of something like envy that two sides of their triangle of friendship had suddenly grown so much closer. It wasn't even that he was afraid that he'd no longer be their friend; he wasn't. He wasn't that insecure in his friendship with Harry and Hermione, not after all they'd been through. He didn't understand what it was but somehow he couldn't feel unmitigated happiness for them.
He let out his breath in a small sigh. "Wow," he breathed, rather lamely, he thought, but couldn't think of anything to say. What did one say when you found out that your best friend is in love with your other best friend, especially coming on the heels of the revelation that they'd been sleeping with each other behind everyone's backs for almost two months? He didn't know of any kind of protocol for this…
He shook his head slightly as if to clear it, then gave Hermione an apologetic sort of smile. "Sorry, hearing you say that rather knocked me off my broom for a minute."
Hermione smiled, glad to see that the normal Ron was back. "It's alright. It surprised me to realize it too."
"I really am sorry we didn't tell you first thing, Ron," Hermione apologized again. She held out her hand to him. "Am I forgiven?"
He reached out, grasping her hand firmly. "I'll think about it," he teased, pretending to ponder the question.
Hermione pretended to pull her hand away in mock disgruntlement.
Ron laughed. "Ok, ok, you're forgiven."
They exchanged grins, the air cleared between them as their old familiar friendship slipped back into its usual footing.
And though neither of them said it, their thoughts both turned to Harry, the absent third of this friendship that had been through too much for a secret such as this to damage it too much.