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Just... by Bingblot
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Just...

Bingblot

Disclaimer: Everything you recognize belongs to JKR, unfortunately.

Author's Note: Part 1 of a 4 part series of drabbles/one-shots I've written. Rated NC-17 just for the last 2 parts. Enjoy!

Just Friends

The door to the Great Hall opened and Harry heard a trumpet fanfare followed by Rufus Scrimgeour's voice magnified with the Sonorous Charm announcing, "Harry Potter! Ron Weasley! Hermione Granger!"

Ron and Hermione both turned to look at Harry in surprise.

He grinned at them. "What? He refused to back down on making a formal announcement of my entrance so I told him, fine but he had to announce you two as well."

Ron grinned. "Brilliant."

Hermione was flushed and looked uncomfortable but smiled at Harry.

"Come on, let's get this over with," he said and as one, the three of them walked through the door and into the Great Hall as the entire room exploded with cheers.

At a signal from Scrimgeour, a huge banner was unfurled to hang over the front of the Great Hall, spelling out "Thank you" in twinkling lights.

The rest of the Great Hall was decorated in flags of alternating Gryffindor red and gold. Harry glanced up at them and then groaned to himself. Someone-Scrimgeour, he guessed-had altered the red flags and included a lightning-bolt on them.

He couldn't believe he'd agreed to this, but he had.

It had been a few days after they'd all been released from the Hogwarts Infirmary and had been staying in Grimmauld Place, again, while looking for a flat for the three of them to move into.

He had had a surprise visitor one morning, none other than Minister of Magic Scrimgeour.

Scrimgeour had looked rather uncomfortable, an odd combination of hearty congratulation and embarrassment, and after several long-winded speeches of thanks to Harry for the great debt they owed him for defeating You Know Who, he had blurted out that, as a gesture of thanks and support and by way of apology for everything the Ministry had (and hadn't) done, the Ministry wanted to host a huge gala in his honor.

Harry's first instinct had been to refuse flatly but Hermione had interceded and shocked him by proceeding to accept the offer.

He had turned to her after Scrimgeour had left, all smiles and promising to be in touch shortly about the details. "Are you mad? Why did you say yes so he can trumpet about my victory as if he'd master-minded the whole thing?"

"Harry, think about it. He won't claim he master-minded it all because he knows you'd contradict him. He just wants to show his support by throwing this party for you and you should let him."

"Why?" he'd grumbled. "I'm not inclined to do Scrimgeour any favors."

"It's not about him, Harry. You should do it for the rest of us. As a symbol, to the rest of the wizarding world, that they don't have to be afraid anymore. They know Voldemort's gone but it hasn't really sunk in yet. Give them this party and it'll be a sign to the world that they can relax and the war is really and truly over." She had paused and squeezed his hand briefly. "It's what you should do, as a gesture."

He had given in, seeing the logic in her reasoning. And besides, with Hermione looking at him in that way that always made him feel as if he really was a hero, the way she'd looked at him when she'd told him so many years ago, "You're a great wizard"-he couldn't disappoint her.

Now, a month later, standing in the Great Hall, he almost wished he'd refused.

"Oh Harry, we're so proud of you!" He allowed Mrs. Weasley to nearly maul him with her motherly concern and pride and smiled as he shook Mr. Weasley's hand.

He grinned at Bill and smiled at Fleur who kissed his cheek and then kissed Ron's cheek, making Ron turn scarlet.

And then it was Ginny's turn.

He felt himself flush and knew he probably looked as uncomfortable as he felt. "Hi Ginny," he said in a voice that tried too hard to be normal.

"Harry." And then before he could blink, Ginny had thrown her arms around him and stood up on tiptoes to kiss his cheek.

He stiffened with shock, his arms staying by his side as he more endured Ginny's embrace than returned it.

"I'm so glad you're okay," she said softly as she pulled back.

He managed a slight smile. "Thanks."

There was a brief pause as he looked at Ginny, realizing fully, for the first time, that he really didn't have any feelings for Ginny, beyond the friendly and brotherly. Not anymore. He hadn't seen her in so long until just before the final battle and hardly after that and somehow in the last year, when he'd been so busy worrying about the horcruxes and Voldemort, whatever feelings he had once had for Ginny had simply faded away. He didn't love her, want her, miss her really. He was fond of her, cared about her in a "She's-a-Weasley" sort of way, but that was it. He and Ginny were just friends now. Just friends-and that was all.

The silence was broken by Mrs. Weasley giving a broken sniff and turning to Mr. Weasley who put his arm around her with a half-apologetic glance at Harry who nodded in understanding.

And they were all silent for a minute as they thought about Charlie, the one who wasn't there that day, who hadn't survived the war.

The silence was broken by a small series of what sounded like explosions as, true to form, Fred and George appeared next to him.

"Harry, good to see you!" Fred exclaimed as if he hadn't seen Harry in ages and as if the last time he'd seen Harry hadn't been just the other day.

Harry grinned at the twins. At least they never changed.

"Good show, mate," George said, shaking Harry's hand with vigor as his twin moved on to greet Ginny with a teasing "You look great, Gin, almost like a girl!"

And then the evening rather blurred into one long round of forcing smiles and shaking hands and enduring congratulations and thanks and, in general, just being treated like a celebrity.

He lost track of the Weasleys and everyone as Scrimgeour had descended on them immediately afterwards and claimed him insisting he meet with the French Minister of Magic come especially just to meet Harry and then what he could have sworn was every witch and wizard who worked in the Ministry and then some.

Finally, it was over and people stopped lining up to meet him although he could see that many were still watching him-some gawking at him.

He sighed and went to find Ron.

He sensed her presence before she spoke and smiled automatically, relaxing, the tension he always felt when knowing people were watching him leaving him.

"Having a nice time?"

He glanced at her, his evening brightening at the very sight of her smile-it seemed she'd smiled too rarely this past year. "Would it be very ungrateful of me to say no?"

"They mean well, you know, Harry," she told him quietly.

"I know. I just wish--" he paused and when she looked at him curiously, finished the thought, "I just wish they would stop acting like I did it alone."

He stopped walking to meet her eyes seriously. "I couldn't have done it without you," he told her honestly. "You know that, right?"

Hermione smiled, and her eyes said, thanks.

And he smiled too and for the moment, he was happy.

He was always simply- content, he realized- when he was with Hermione-as if deep inside him, some part of his soul relaxed when he was with her, felt comfortable as if he were lounging in a favorite couch, as if he was home whenever he was with her…

He was suddenly reminded of a question that had been asked by Doris Wilcott, a reporter from the Daily Prophet, in the one interview he had finally consented to give after the final battle.

"And now, Mr. Potter, I just have to ask about your love life. Are you currently seeing anyone?"

He had squirmed a little and colored but answered honestly, "No, I'm not."

She had looked surprised-which had surprised him. What, they thought he'd had time to snog while trying to defeat Voldemort?

"But what about Miss Granger? You've spent the last year with her and seem very close."

"Hermione? We're just-- friends. Best friends. Hermione and Ron have always been my best friends."

He was jerked back to the present by the sound of Hermione laughing at something Ron said to her and focused on her smile, feeling his lips curve in automatic response.

Just friends.

And watching Hermione smile, he had a fleeting thought, as insubstantial as a puff of smoke that vanished right before he could truly grasp it: just friends-for now…