A/N: Let me start by saying how much I appreciate all the feedback I've gotten. A lot of it has been enormously positive, and I'm incredibly flattered by the warm reception this fic has gotten! Some of the reviews have been less positive, and they've been almost exclusively focused on the Draco issue. I feel like I owe you all an apology. This is my first Harry/Hermione piece and it just didn't occur to me that having Draco as Hermione's friend would upset so many people. It was thoughtless of me, and I am very sorry! I'm reposting part 1 with a warning of the friendship so anyone who starts the fic from this point on will go into it forewarned. For those of you who have been with this from the beginning, I'll repeat the same thing I said to everyone in my reviews: I'm grateful to everyone who stuck around this long even though they don't like the idea of Draco being Hermione's friend, but if you're not convinced by now that the friendship is plausible, then maybe now's the time to stop. I don't want any of you to feel obligated to keep reading the story if the Draco/Hermione friendship is really bothering you. If you want to stay on and keep reading the story then that would be great, but you all need to understand that Draco's going to continue being an important character in this story, and it won't be possible to skip the parts with him and still understand what's going on. I promise I have other H/Hr WIPs that I'll post once I've wrapped this one up, so there will be other chances to read my stories that *don't* have Draco in them in the future. Okay, time to step off my soapbox. Special thanks to H_HrFan who sent me a lovely e-mail with some corrections the last part needed. The changes are being uploaded along with this. And without further ado, on with the show!
Section 7:
It started so gradually and innocuously, Harry didn't even notice, at first. Looking back on it later, he was surprised to realize that Hermione had been so subtle. While Hermione was unquestionably a girl of manifold virtues, many of which Harry had very real reasons to appreciate, subtlety had never seemed to be one of them. She had always seemed so direct, so straightforward, so incapable of holding anything back or hiding anything that she felt. Or so she had seemed to Harry. It is possible that he underestimated her. But whether she was exceptionally subtle, or whether he was exceptionally oblivious, the fact remained that Hermione succeeded in the weeks following the battle in gradually, piece by piece, and with exquisite care, removing herself from Harry's life.
It started the day after the celebrations. Harry, of course, was still mobbed by people who wanted to hear from him exactly what had happened. Their 'right' to hear the biggest news story in sixteen years straight from the hero's mouth superseded even the reporters' fear of the Hogwarts headmaster. After consultation with Dumbledore, Harry agreed to a single press conference where he would answer questions *one time only*. Reporters flooed into Hogwarts from all around the Wizarding world to be there for the event, and the Great Hall was standing-room only as Harry Potter, flanked by his professors, his fiancée, and his ever-faithful sidekick, Ron, told the world how he had become, yet again, The Boy Who Lived. Hermione, claiming that she didn't feel well, insisted on paying a visit to Madam Pomfrey instead of attending the press conference. By rights, she should have been conspicuous in her absence. Alas, she was not.
For the first time in his life, Harry found himself actually enjoying being in the public eye. Oh, he hated the spotlight as much as ever, but with the undivided attention of every newspaper journalist of note from all seven continents focused on him, he finally took the long-awaited opportunity to recognize everyone who had helped him in his final battle. Dumbledore and the Hogwarts professors, the Weasleys and the members of D.A., Sirius and James, Lily and Lavender, and many others all were acknowledged for the roles they played in helping to shape Harry into the person who was able to defeat Voldemort. He was thrilled to have the chance to make sure that everyone would finally get the credit they deserved.
In Harry's opinion, no one deserved it more than Hermione. By his standard of measuring, she was even more responsible for the defeat of Voldemort than he was. Not only had she practically invented the spell that allowed her to help him, she had also risked her sanity and her soul to merge with him. She earned hero status by the nobility of her actions, not to mention the fact that she had also warranted at least *some* attention of the more academic persuasion for the sheer complexity of the spell she had crafted. Harry, wanting her efforts to be appreciated, made an honest attempt to bring up her role dozens of times during the conference. It didn't do much good. In the prepared statement he made to open the conference, he listed all the things that she had done, but once the statement was concluded and the floor was open for questions, it became obvious that no matter what he said about Hermione, the reporters would chose not to hear it.
No matter how conscientious they may be, newspaper people are still newspaper people, and they always want a story that will sell papers. Harry, in any situation, was good copy. Dumbledore, as his mentor and as the headmaster who had guided him through his education, was newsworthy as well. Ron, as the loyal best friend who had stood by him through the years, caught a fair share of attention. Several reporters latched onto the concept of The Noble Dead, obviously preparing to write their articles from the angle of the influence on Harry from his parents and godfather, all of whom had died to protect him. And of course, all the reporters adored the Lavender angle; a secret fiancée who stood by her man even though they didn't dare make their relationship public was exactly the sort of thing every newspaper reader wanted to hear about.
There was simply no place in this for Hermione. Ron filled the loyal friend slot and was positively thriving in the attention his actions had warranted. He told anyone who would listen what he and Hermione had done. The 'woman in his life' role was filled by Lavender who clung affectionately to Harry's arm, eagerly answering all the questions directed at her, and agreeing to an exclusive interview with Witch Weekly to discuss her plans for the wedding, now that the date was finally set. The role of the intellectual who had helped Harry prepare for the final battle and who had worked to craft the necessary spells was, of course, delegated to Dumbledore. (The reporters did not care that Dumbledore made very few comments on the matter. The 'wise guidance from the aged headmaster' angle appealed to them too much to let it go.) With all the credit being placed on everyone else's shoulders, Hermione's role was extraneous. And since she wasn't there to speak for herself, she was easily put aside.
Harry didn't so much as lay eyes on Hermione until that evening. The press conference had lasted for hours and had been followed, not surprisingly, by another feast. (Harry had the sneaking suspicion that Dumbledore simply liked throwing feasts and was using the large number of press people still persistently hanging around as an excuse. He saw the way that the headmaster eyed the special treacle tart that the elves only made on feast occasions. But on the other hand, Dumbledore was certainly justified in turning the occasion into an event. After all, the reporters were guests of the school, and as headmaster, he could hardly allow the visitors to starve, could he?)
Harry, sick to death of the noise and chaos, snuck away as soon as he got a chance and headed back to the dormitories, hoping to find some peace and quiet. Maybe he could find Hermione and have that talk with her, like he had planned the night before. He had yet to really thank her for what she had done. Besides, he still wanted to find out what she had seen in the mirror that had upset her so completely. As her best friend, surely he was entitled to that information. It wasn't easy to get Hermione that worked up and Harry was determined to get to the bottom of it.
The scene he found when he entered the portrait hole exceeded even his highest hopes. The common room was practically deserted, with only a few groups of students sitting around, chatting quietly or working on their homework. Harry's eyes lit up as he spotted Hermione tucked away in a corner, quizzing a first year on Potions ingredients.
"So… what's the difference between aconite and wolfbane?" she questioned the timid student whose name, Harry was fairly certain, started with an M. Mandy? Mary? Something like that.
"Um, wolfbane is the poisonous one?" the girl guessed.
Harry, standing to the side out of view, couldn't hold back a smile at the look on Hermione's face. He'd seen that look so very many times, when Hermione quizzed him and Ron. It was her how-can-I-explain-this-so-it-finally-sinks-in-without-sounding-condescending look. "Well Marsha, you're not wrong, but you're not *completely* right, either," Hermione stated, tactfully. "Wolfbane *is* poisonous, but so is aconite."
"Mainly because they're the same thing!" Harry interjected cheerfully, plopping down on the sofa next to Hermione. Harry winked at the girl, discomposing her completely as she blushed violently and dropped her notebook.
"Harry, don't tease," Hermione scolded. "You know perfectly well you used to have trouble with the same thing. You would always get ingredients' names mixed up." Harry merely grinned unrepentantly at Hermione, reveling in her lecturing tone. After being fawned over all day, it was wonderfully refreshing to have Hermione scold him, just like always. He slid an arm around her shoulders affectionately, giving her a gentle squeeze. He could always count on Hermione to make him feel grounded, which Merlin knew he needed after that monstrous press conference. He didn't notice the way that she tensed at his touch, or how she immediately pulled away, on the pretext of picking up Marsha's notebook, so that Harry's arm dropped back to his side.
"That's because Snape's a greasy old bat who doesn't *want* his students to know the right answers, so he never bothers to tell us anything but what we're doing wrong," Harry replied, winking at Marsha again.
"*Professor* Snape, Harry," Hermione corrected automatically, handing the notebook back to Marsha.
"Alright then, *Professor* Snape is a greasy, overgrown bat," Harry teased. Marsha, still furiously blushing, got a fit of the giggles over this and started laughing so hard, she couldn't breathe. As much as Hermione wanted Marsha to stay with them to act as a buffer between her and Harry, she couldn't help but take pity on the girl after a minute. She certainly knew what it was like to get flustered by Harry Potter. Sympathetically, Hermione suggested that Marsha go get a drink of water so she could pull herself together, a suggestion that the girl eagerly embraced, rushing away quickly.
"Alone at last!" Harry exclaimed dramatically, slipping his arm back around Hermione's shoulder while leaning his head back against the back of the couch, kicking his feet up onto the coffee table, and closing his eyes. He let out a sigh of pure contentment. "Hear that?" he asked, his eyes still closed.
"Hear what?" Hermione asked.
"Silence," Harry breathed, blissfully. "Peace and quiet at last. Isn't it wonderful?"
"Mmm," Hermione murmured, noncommittally, trying not to let herself melt into his arms, especially when his hand started absent-mindedly stroking the hair that lay on her shoulder, under his fingers.
"I've been waiting for this all day," Harry continued. "Just to be able to sit around and not worry about cameras snapping in my face or reporters constantly harassing me with 'Harry, how do you feel?' 'Harry, what's next for you?' 'Harry, do you feel vindicated?' 'Harry, have you ever considered a career in modeling?' 'Harry, where-'"
"Harry, where on earth have you been?" an unmistakable voice called out from the portrait hole. Hermione pulled away from Harry like he was on fire. Harry frowned slightly as he opened his eyes, looking at her with a confused expression on his face, but quickly turned his focus to his fiancée who was approaching.
"Lav, what are you doing here?"
"Looking for you, silly," she answered breezily, seating herself on the sofa next to him and latching on to his arm, tugging on it playfully as she tried to pull him to his feet. "Everyone still has loads of questions for you, and Witch Weekly wants a picture of the two of us for the article they're going to do on me."
"Listen love, I've been answering questions and having my picture taken all day long. I was kind of hoping that I could have some time to just sit around and relax. I haven't been able to talk to Hermione all day, right Hermi-" Harry cut off abruptly when he turned and saw that Hermione was no longer there. She had taken advantage of his momentary distraction and had slipped away to help a table of fourth years who were working on transfiguration essays.
"Hermione's busy anyway, and I *promised* Witch Weekly that they could have another picture with just the two of us. Just do this for me, please?" Lavender smiled up at Harry before rising up on tiptoe to plant a small kiss on his neck, whispering in his ear, "I'll make it up to you later, love. I promise."
Harry couldn't help but enjoy the way that Lavender was pressing up against him and he felt his resolve to stay in the common room crumbling. He glanced over to Hermione, hoping to catch her eye, but she seemed to be fully focused on the fourth years she was helping. Maybe Lavender was right, and she didn't want to be bothered. And really, what would a few more pictures hurt?
"Alright, Lav," Harry replied in a resigned tone. "Lead the way." Lavender beamed at him as she led him to the portrait hole and he gave her a weak half-smile in return. It made her so happy, so how could it not be worth it? Besides, he could always talk to Hermione later. Once all the fuss and excitement had worn off, he'd have plenty of time to sit down and have his anticipated talk with his best friend.
He had no way of knowing that it would be over a week before the fuss and excitement finally started to die down. He couldn't have known that things would never really go back to the way that they had been before. He had no idea that Hermione was going to do everything in her power to make sure that she was never alone in a room with Harry. And he certainly had no way of knowing that his long talk with Hermione would be a long, long time coming.