A/N: Sorry this one's so short - it's the set up for the extremely long winded chapter that follows.
**************************
Perfunctory
Hermione Granger opened the curtains of her bedroom, letting the early morning light flood in. She yawned and stretched, then slowly began going over the myriad number of things she had to get done.
It was early August, and though the wizarding community still seemed to be in constant celebration of Voldemort's final defeat, at least the initial fervor had begun to subside. For the first couple of weeks she had been assailed by owls with words of thanks and congratulations from all members of wizards. Of course, there had also been the various requests for interviews and photos from a variety of publications, but she had turned them all down, content to just be plain old Hermione for awhile. There'd be plenty of time for fame when she began Academy in the fall. However, the same couldn't be said of Harry and Ron.
She sighed as she thought of her friends. Hermione had mostly stayed at home these last two months, enjoying her last bits of life with her family before truly striking out on her own. Thankfully, after her initial disconsolation at St. Mungo's that day, she arrived home to find Pigwigeon circling wildly above her parent's house. She smiled as Pig dropped a thick bundle into her hands and nipped at her playfully. She rushed to her room to read the letter from Ron.
Hermione,
Sorry we weren't there when you finally woke up. Playing up that Sleeping Beauty bit then? Just joking. Actually, we didn't want to leave you, but when the Healers told us you were fine, that they were just making you sleep because they figured you wouldn't do it on your own (don't know where they ever got the idea you'd be stubborn) they rushed us out. We tried to go back, but I think every media outlet in the wizarding world was staking out St. Mungo's! We couldn't get within two blocks before being bombarded!
As for Harry, well, they had tried to get him to take a swig of that gunk they gave you, but you want to talk about stubborn?! I think the Healer actually turned white when Harry fixed him with that death glare of his.
We've been having a fabulous time - well, I have anyway. I think Harry can't get over the fact that no one's trying to kill him for the first time in, well, EVER. We've just finished helping with the reconstruction at Hogwarts - nice to see the drafty old school back up to snuff. It didn't look like too much damage was done, and Hagrid's killer with trowel and brick (he had to do it the Muggle way, even tho' we all know he'd have done it quicker with that umbrella of his!).
We're back at the Burrow now, and Mom's yet to stop fussing over us. We're constantly bombarded with owls these days, as I'm sure you'll experience now that you're home. Be mindful of the marriage proposals tho' - Harry spent two days trying to wipe enchanted lipstick prints off his cheeks! And I won't even begin to tell you about the, um, large assortment of unmentionables that seem to find their way here. Funny how I never knew how many girls, and I quote, "have always fancied redheads!"
Luna about had a fit over those! She actually ended up bribing Pig to filter my mail! Can you believe it?! Not that I blame her of course, I mean, who wouldn't get jealous over "the brilliant young Gryffindor strategist Ronald Weasley"? (Honestly, that's what the Prophet called me! Guess all those year's of wizard chess finally paid off.)
Actually, you should read all the fabulous things they had to say about you too. Mum's been collecting all our clippings - I'm sending along a bundle for you. Definitely something we can all show our grandkids someday!
Which reminds me - now that we've saved the wizarding world as we know it, Bill and Fleur have finally decided to tie the knot. You'll find their wedding invitation along with the press clippings.
I'm off to meet with my Cannon's coach - we begin training at the end of summer. I promise I'll write some more in a few days. Glad you're well, and let me know how your summer goes... wow, I was just going to write 'before school starts again'. Guess I can't get over that we're done with school - well, at least me and Harry are - why you would want two more years of schooling is beyond me - of course, it is YOU I'm talking about, so it's hardly a stretch of the imagination.
Yours Truly,
The Bloody Brilliant Ronald Weasley
P.S. Harry sends his love.
Hermione unwrapped the large parcel that contained clippings from the Daily Prophet over the last two weeks. She couldn't help but wrinkle her nose at some of photos on file they had used in their articles. One was from their fourth year, during the TriWizard Tournament, and, from the looks of it, before she had managed to shrink her teeth.
Ron hadn't been joking about the words of praise. Everything from the Prophet to the Quibbler had gushing words of gratitude and flattery about each of them. Even Rita Skeeter had managed to write something decent, "Those involved agree that success came from teamwork amongst the students of all houses, led by the nearly perfect Head Girl, Hermione Granger." She couldn't help but laugh at the backhanded compliment. Apparently 'nearly perfect' was the civil upgrade from 'Little Miss Perfect'.
While she continued to skim through the various clippings, Hedwig flew through her window. She happily took the letter, glad to see that Hedwig had mended nicely, no trace of the broken wing she had suffered several weeks prior.
Hermione,
I'm glad you're well. Ron tells me you finally woke up and are back home now. I'm sure he's told you about all our adventures since we've left St. Mungo's. I'm quite excited actually, I'm going with the Weasleys on holiday to various points of Eastern Europe before heading back for the wedding. I'll write you more when I get a chance.
Sincerely,
Harry
She sat at the edge of her bed, absentmindedly stroking Crookshanks as she looked at the two letters again. Correction - as she looked at the letter and note again. Her feelings were, at best, mixed. She was glad to hear from the both of them, of that there was no question. And yet, she couldn't help but feel that there should have been something more. Ron was as convivial as ever, but Harry's letter seemed almost... what was it she was searching for? Whatever it was, this was, by far, the shortest and least personal letter he had ever written, and that included anything prior to third year.
She glanced at it again - a mere glance being more than capable of consuming the entirety of the text. She noted she hadn't even rated a "yours truly" from him. Just a simple statement of facts, hardly any narrative, barely anything personable. It simple struck her as...
"Perfunctory."
She sighed - she knew she had been reading too much into it. It was simply foreign to her not to be with her friends, celebrating the victory that should have rivaled D-Day. Instead, circumstances relegated her to sitting in her bedroom, sifting through her things as she unpacked her school trunk and sorted laundry.
She couldn't help but wonder why Harry's letter, or lack thereof, was bothering her so much. She began picking it apart logically.
'He's still adjusting to this new world without school & Voldemort.'
'He's still in a bit of shock.'
'The press won't let him alone.'
'All his admirers are driving him batty.'
'He'll write me more once things have settled down.'
'He's avoiding me because I told him I love him.'
"Oh no!"
Her head sank into her hands as she remembered that little gem of a detail. She knew there was something she had forgotten, the rest of that evening had been nothing but a blur, and now she could recall it with stunning clarity. She had poured her heart out to him, in a last desperate attempt to reach him. It had worked, but now, she was certain it was at the expense of their friendship. His short, and she now thought, curt, letter had been evidence of that. She had made him uncomfortable. He didn't know how to tell her he didn't feel the same. All the plans the three of them had, of sharing a flat somewhere near Diagon Alley, of staying together in some semblance in their post-Hogwarts years, slowly seemed to be crumbling in front of her. She had ruined the "Post-Hogwarts Trio" with declarations of undying love.
"Bloody brilliant Granger!"
She rose from the bed, took a half hearted kick at the pile of dirty school robes on the floor, and did her best to keep the tears from running down her face. Crookshanks gave her a sympathetic stare, and she couldn't help but smile back at him.
"Oh Crookshanks, I am ever the silly girl, aren't I?" She laughed with derision as a single tear dropped from her eye. "Whatever was I thinking?" Crookshanks merely stared at her, then licked a paw and groomed his left ear.
She had spent the rest of that afternoon trying to push all thoughts of Harry from her mind. At first she tried not to think about him at all, but that inevitably led to deeper ruminations. Maybe she was overanalyzing the whole situation, which was her habit. But, as the weeks wore on, and she continued to get thick letters from Ron packed with details of their travels and his relationship with Luna, all she got from Harry were two more notes - one describing the architecture of Prague, and another mentioning the remnants of the Berlin Wall. To her, this was all the evidence she needed. Neither he or Ron had mentioned the flat in London, or any plans to live together, and she had been too uncertain to broach the subject herself. She'd never admit as much, but her confidence waned terribly at the time - leaving her feeling unwelcome amongst her supposed two best friends. But the truth of the matter was that Harry didn't feel remotely for her what she had felt for him. He hadn't even had the courtesy to tell her as much, but simply tried to maintain the status quo as lamely as possible.
When this finally became evident to her, she decided she would strive to repair what was left of their friendship. She swore she'd never mention her feelings again, and, as she had so many years of experience in this endeavor, she took all her love for Harry that was of any 'non-friendly' nature, and tightly boxed it up inside herself, never to again see the light of day.
And now as early August arrived, and she prepared to meet the Weasleys and Harry in Paris for the wedding, she made the solemn vow to herself to reign in her emotions and do her best to start from scratch - strangers on a train, as it were. They may not exactly be "The Trio" anymore, but they were still friends, of that she was (mostly) certain.
It was with a positive attitude and an overly bright smile that she walked into the regal wizarding resort of La Sérénité Maintenant, hidden in a nook of Paris not too far from the Louvre, and greeted her friends, both close and estranged.
Her positive bravado lasted approximately 43 minutes after arriving, then burst into flames that rivaled one of Fawkes' burning days.
**************************