I once had expectations for myself, back before I realized what this war and my participation in it meant for both me and everyone I loved.
Since Lord Voldemort's return in my fourth year at Hogwarts, I have been painfully aware of the impending war at hand. For the years that followed, we were programmed, despite being children, to seek an end to the Dark Lord for the sake of everything we held dear. As part of the Golden Trio, I was expected to sacrifice everything in order to ensure victory for the Order. The Good Guys.
What nobody told us was what to do afterwards.
With a clear lack of instructions, we were left without the slightest idea of what to do with ourselves. The world took advantage. They hungrily threw us into unwanted narratives and began writing our future's story for us, forcing us to become the poster children of the new world. With the wizarding world in pieces, they needed a symbol, a distraction. They fed off the idea that if the Golden Trio could survive and thrive in the post-war era, so too could everyone else.
I had been staying at The Burrow, due to having no alternative options for the time being. Luckily, after a few days, I became quite numb to the fury and pain seeing the Weasleys brought forth within me. The exception to my adapting naturally being Molly, whom I avoided at all costs. As usual, when staying at the Burrow, I was sharing a room with Ginny, which didn't bother me too much. Despite where my head was at the time, she was still one of my closest friends.
The first time the Prophet had a front page spread about Ron and I being romantically involved, I nearly lost it. He and I had no such relationship and hadn't even spoken of it since our kiss back at Hogwarts. Once again, I felt rage being added to my lengthy repertoire of emotional responses to the war. The next day, Harry, Ron and I were sitting at the breakfast table together for the first time in what seemed like ages. Harry looked terrible, like he hadn't really slept since the battle, two weeks ago. As I silently ate my breakfast, tasting none of it, I realized how little we had actually all seen each other. The Burrow was much quieter than it used to be, with everyone minding their own business, dealing with their own grief. Or so, at least, I had assumed. To be honest, I had almost entirely shut myself up in the room I had been staying in, speaking only to Ginny, occasionally. I spent my days burying myself in books, as to escape the prison I found myself in. It seemed the family knew better than to try to interrupt me.
The great thing about the whole world going to shit is that when you stop talking to the people around you and spend your time staring blankly off into space, nobody says anything. Because they're all doing the same.
"You alright, Harry?" I asked, placing my hand on his shoulder and finally breaking the silence. He jumped, startled by the sound of my voice.
"Yeah" he said, faking a smile. I could always see through him.
"Hey...uh...did any of you guys see the Daily Prophet the other day?" Ron said, awkwardly bringing up what I was desperately hoping to avoid. I turned to him and nodded, clearly unimpressed.
"It's crazy how they knew already...didn't even have to tell them..."
I stared down at the table, trying hard to hide my disbelief. How did he even believe that? I finally looked up and saw Harry giving me a curious look.
"Have you guys even really spoken since the battle?" He asked. I shook my head, causing him to raise his eyebrows.
"I didn't know you guys had become an official...thing..."
"Me neither..." I said quietly, wondering how Ronald could think that kissing in the heat of the moment, minutes before we were all potentially walking to our doom could count as us being in a...relationship. I shuddered internally, trying my hardest not to betray my disgust at the thought and risk hurting my friend.
Before Ron had a chance to speak, Ginny came into the room.
"You guys...the minister's here to see you..."
"Think of it as Public Relations"
I laughed a harsh, cold laugh.
"Have we not already done enough for the Public?!" I demanded.
"Yeah, this seems a little...invasive..." said Harry
"And totally fucked up" I were sitting in the living room, across from Kingsley Shacklebolt in a scene that was eerily familiar to when we were read Dumbledore's will.
"I don't see what the problem is.." said Ron, speaking for the first time. I turned to him, furious. "So we have to lead public lives, showing everyone how happy we are...I mean, it's not like it's all that different from what we'd otherwise be doing..." he finished gently, reaching out to awkwardly grab my hand. It was in this moment, the feeling of being trapped set in and my heart broke all over again, both for me and for this silly boy. My eyes filled with frustrated tears as I looked back to Kingsley.
"This is ridiculous. We're all dealing with what happened during the war. All of us. People don't care who is dating who, or whose life is turning into some magical fairytale of wedded bliss."
"She's got a point, minister" said Harry, exhaustion subtly straining his voice.
"Regardless, Miss Granger, seeing the Golden Trio continue to live happy lives, making a few small public appearances, would be a source of comfort for those in the wizarding world.."
"And has anyone asked me if I give a DAMN about being someone's source of comfort?!" I yelled, standing up. The minister just looked at me, emotionless. On either side of me, Ron and Harry sat uselessly, Harry staring out the window. I sighed and sat back down.
"And what if we don't want to?" I asked, a tone of desperation making itself ever so slightly known in my voice. All the light left the Minister's face as he looked grimly down at us.
"I am sorry, Miss Granger...but at least for now, you have no choice."
"What do you mean we have no choice?!" I tried to argue, as he put up his hand.
"As minister, I have sworn to do whatever I can to protect the Wizarding world. This is what we all need right now. As much as you might see it unfair, it is necessary in establishing a sense of order in the rubble. Try to fight it, Miss Granger, and we will use whatever force is necessary to maintain this."
Listening to him speak, I felt all the fight leave my body and defeat set in.
"For how long?" I asked quietly, my voice cracking.
"We will let you know when it is no longer needed of you...hopefully by then, you will have grown to enjoy the arrangement..."
I stood up to leave, my face blank. Before turning, I saw a look of heartbreak on Ron's face out of the corner of my eye. He doesn't understand. He never would.
I went and sat outside, trying desperately to get a grip on the world around me. As a patch of clouds covered the sun, my mind wandered back to my second encounter with Bellatrix.
Walking back from the library, I was cursing myself for unknowingly being there at such an hour. My silly little sixth year self was so pointlessly caught up in entirely useless research that I hadn't noticed how late it was. As such, I was walking quickly back, hoping Filch wouldn't find me. I turned a corner and everything had changed. Rubble was everywhere, the commotion of people fighting and yelling in the distance. "Are we under attack?" I thought as I drew my wand, scared to death of what I might find. As I was stealthily trying to continue down the hallway, I heard noises coming from within a classroom. Not noticing anyone around, I feared it was someone in trouble and made the foolish decision to go in and make sure they weren't hurt. The moment I entered the room, the door slammed shut and I was disarmed. Before I could scream, a man emerged from the shadows, wand pointed at me.
"Scream and you die, bitch!" he said as I realized just how fucked I was. I looked at my attacker. I had never seen him before. I found myself praying he wouldn't recognize me for fear of how much worse this could get.
"Get over by the desk!" He ordered.
"What are you doing here? Is the school being attacked? Are you a Death Eater?" my words were met with a backhand, splitting my lip. I cried out, clutching my mouth.
"Please, just let me go" he put his wand up to my throat, silencing me immediately. My body shook with a fear I had never felt before, and he peered into my eyes with a look of disgust which then, terrifyingly, turned to one of recognition.
"You're that little Mudblood bitch Potter hangs 'round with!" My heart raced but I refused to speak or acknowledge his words in any way. He laughed.
"Here, I was just hoping to ambush some stupid little punks to impress the Dark Lord...but now..." he peered at me hungrily.
"I'm going to enjoy this..." he said, breathing into my ear. Tears continued to flow down my face as I realized I was unable to move my body and he started unbuttoning my blouse. I tried to look away as he went to loosen his belt and several things happened all at once. The door opened with a crash, my assailant fell to the ground with a sickening thud and I found myself able to move, meaning my attacker was very much dead. Gasping, I looked up, searching for my savior.
There, with all her terrifying grandeur, was Bellatrix Lestrange.
My body was shaking so hard that all I could manage to say was "W-w-why?" I swallowed hard and cleared my throat "Why did you save me? Why do you keep doing that?" She raised an eyebrow and tilted her head, showing her obvious disbelief at my question. Her eyes trailed down to where my attacker laid and the hint of a snarl crept up on her face. I tried to stand and stumbled, clutching the desk to avoid falling. She moved toward me as if wanting to help, reaching out a hand and looking worried. She stopped, a look of discomfort appearing on her face once again.
"Are you alright, then?" she asked quickly. I nodded.
"I think so, yes...thank you. So much. If there's anything I can do..." the look of discomfort was quickly replaced by a smirk and an eyeroll. Before I could say another word, she was looking out into the hall, alarmed. The commotion was moving closer. She looked at me, blew me a kiss and was gone down the hall.
I buttoned my shirt and stepped over my attacker's corpse, dead set on finding her, all the while cursing myself for not getting more of a conversation out of her. She was nowhere to be found, however. I spent far too long searching for her that evening, silently pleading that she be somewhere in the night I could reach. I would have kept searching, too, had that night not also been the night Dumbledore was killed.
"Hey" said a voice, shattering my reveries. I looked up to see Ginny standing a few feet from me.
"Hey" I answered.
"So, what's going on? What did Kingsley want?" I rolled my eyes.
"Ugh, don't even get me started." I said as she sat down next to me.
"Well, all right...if you don't want to talk to about it, I s'pose I could get it out of my brother..." she said, smirking. I smiled.
"It involves you too; I'll tell you, but you won't like it."
I told her of everything Kingsley said, about each of us having to take on a role and play its part for however long the ministry deemed fit. Throughout my explanation, her expression was unreadable. I had expected fury out of her but instead got a blank nod of understanding as I spoke.
"So I have to...with Harry?" her eyebrows furrowed as she contemplated this new reality. I nodded.
"Yes. I'm not sure how long it needs to go on for, or how far you have to take it, but be prepared to start making public appearances announcing how happy you are together and how bloody perfect everything's been since the war..." I trailed off, angrily. She took my hand in hers.
"Look, Hermione. Everything will be okay. So we have to smile at a few cameras, say a few lines...maybe it'll make people happy. Isn't that worth it? I'm sure it won't go on forever..."
I knew at this point that Ginny was nowhere near as upset about this whole ordeal as I was. I gave up on trying to talk about it and just nodded. She smiled at me.
"It'll be alright, I'm sure of it." she then got up and walked back to the house
It wasn't until Snape's betrayal that double agents were a concern to me. It wasn't until he made us all look like fools that I realized the possibility. I spent several foolish hours after Dumbledore's death fantasizing that Bellatrix was reaching out to me, wanting to betray the dark and come to our side, that something in me inspired something in her to be good. I secretly obsessed over this for days after our meeting. Then, there was the fact that she killed Sirius. Something I could not bring myself to understand. Why spare me when she could so quickly dispose of her own flesh and blood? It didn't make sense. Was she toying with me? Was she just doing this because she knew it would drive me insane until I got an answer from her? Things would have just been so much easier, had I just ignored those thoughts and carried on with the life that was expected of me.
Such were my thoughts as I wandered back to the house. As I entered the kitchen, I could tell everyone was abuzz with news. The minister as well as all the occupants of the burrow were in the kitchen, speaking excitedly, drinks in hand despite it being no later than noon. Harry had already finished his and was refilling it. Ginny turned to me, somewhat awkwardly.
"The Minister's just told us that we've got an interview tomorrow!" I could tell she was trying to spin this as a positive, exciting announcement. I raised my eyebrows and eyed everyone in the room, noticing that I had brought a sudden end to their jubilation. They each shifted uncomfortably under my gaze as it trailed across them and landed on the Minister.
"And when were you going to inform me of this?"
"Well, Miss Granger" he said, straightening himself out "had you not run away in the middle of our conversation, you would have been told" I scoffed.
"and just what is this interview?" I spat, not even bothering to look civilized.
"Just the first public appearance of the Golden Trio. Nothing overly complicated, and yet immensely important. It is then that you must make it known that you have survived and plan to thrive since the fall of the Dark Lord."
"Fuck. That." I said harshly.
"Hermione, calm down" said Ginny, putting her hand on my arm. I shrugged it away.
"No, Ginny. If you're all okay with whoring yourselves off for the enjoyment of the ungrateful people whose lives we almost died saving, that is your business. I, however, refuse."
With that, I stormed out of the kitchen and up to my room, angry that I allowed myself to look nothing more than an angsty teenager. I laid back on my bed and stared at the ceiling, wondering what to make of all this mess.