My beta-readers, fredfred and InquisitorCOC, deserve a huge thank you. They helped a lot.
Chapter 42: The Press
Forest of Dean, Gloucestershire, Britain, December 23rd, 2005
A flashback was Ron's first thought when he saw her grow still. But then she sighed. Probably just a memory, then - this was an important place for her, after all. And for her friends. Especially wizarding Ron.
"Are you alright?" he asked.
She nodded. "Yes. Yes." Another sigh followed. "Just…" She shrugged.
"Yes."
"Ron said the same thing, here. That it was really peaceful, you know?"
"Ah." Despite the darkness hiding his expression, Ron refrained from frowning. "Well, we are similar," he said with forced lightness. More similar, in fact, than he would have liked.
"Actually, your differences outweigh your similarities, at least for me."
"Oh?" He cocked his head. "Really?"
"Yes. And not just because you aren't a wizard. You're seven years older than the Ron I remember. And you've lived different lives."
"We're both police officers. Sort of," he pointed out.
"He's changed since I… left," she said. "He's married and a father. And more… I don't know, cynical? The Ron I knew wouldn't have gone along with all of that…" She trailed off.
"Corruption? Abuse of power? Or just the usual way a government is run?"
He didn't have to see her face to know she was frowning. "You're cynical as well. Perhaps you are more similar than I thought."
He winced at the barb. "If he's been an Auror for seven years, he's experienced enough to know no one and nothing is perfect." Idealists didn't last in the police, as Moody used to tell them. You either adapted or quit.
"I guess. It's still…" Another sigh.
"You didn't see him change slowly. And you didn't have to adapt to the reality of politics yourself."
"There's a difference between flexible and corrupt," she retorted.
"Do you think that your friends are corrupt?"
"No…" She shook her head. "Not really corrupt. But I expected better of them than just… going along with how things are done."
"Do you think the Ministry is corrupt?"
"Of course it is," she snapped. "It's merely the degree of corruption of which I'm not yet quite certain."
She might have spent a little too much time with Luna. Ron almost snorted at his thought. "Luna would agree," he said.
Hermione huffed in response. "She's an idealist."
"And you aren't?" he asked before he could stop himself.
"I think my actions and the agreements I have made show that I'm more of a realist."
"Luna also gets along with Dumbledore," Ron pointed out.
"For now," she replied. "But she's too much of an idealist. And she seems to be focused on her counterpart."
And wasn't that a scary thought. "Wizarding Luna hasn't visited our world yet, has she?"
"I don't think so, I'd expect Dumbledore to inform me if there's a witch loose in Britain since I'm the only possible counter. And we've taken measures to detect disillusioned wizards or witches coming through the portal. Pressure plates and other sensors that wouldn't be fooled by a Disillusionment Charm."
"Good. That should…" Oh no. She wouldn't… He grimaced. "How common is Shrinking Solution?"
"She wouldn't… of course she would!" She grabbed his arm. "We need to return at once."
A moment later, he felt the increasingly familiar yet still unsettling sensation of being pushed through a narrow pipe. Then they reappeared in their room at the resort.
Hermione stormed out at once, and Ron had to rush to catch up to her before she reached Luna's room.
"Luna?" She knocked on the door, then tried to open it. It was locked. "Luna?"
"She's asleep. We can ask her in the morning," Ron told her. "Don't wake her up; it's been a long day."
Why was Hermione looking at him like that?
"Oh, for heaven's sake," she muttered, then waved her wand.
And Ron blinked. Why had he… "She didn't!"
"A Muggle-Repelling Charm on the door. Clever." Hermione said through clenched teeth. She pointed her wand at the door, flicked it and the door swung open.
Inside it looked as if Luna were in her bed, sleeping, but another wave of Hermione's wand and the blonde head turned into a teddy bear.
Ron winced. "I should have known something was off when she didn't try to stash one of your miniature horses in her pocket. She must have been keeping a shrunken Luna in there."
"And now we have a hacker and a witch loose in Britain," Hermione stated.
"And if she only wanted Xenophon to meet her counterpart, she wouldn't have needed to go to these lengths," Ron said. Luna's father hadn't attended the dinner at Ron's parents' 'for security reasons', but they could've visited him without any problems. "Did she say anything that might give us a hint about her plans?"
Hermione shook her head. "Nothing that you don't already know."
He could try calling her phone, but Luna would have 'gone off the grid' for this. And Ron didn't really want to alert Dumbledore to this incident. "She'll be back before the morning," he said. "Or she wouldn't have gone to the effort of setting all of this up."
"And then we'll have words," Hermione said, looking grim.
Black Lake, Scotland, December 24th, 2005
Hermione's Intruder Charm went off a little after seven in the morning. Ron opened the door a moment later and caught Luna in the hallway. "Good morning."
"Oh. Good morning!" She beamed at him, though he knew her well enough to tell that it was a little forced.
"Luna? Can you come in for a moment?" Hermione said from behind him.
"Oh… sure?" She tilted her head slightly. "What's this about… oh." She must have noticed when she entered the area of the privacy charm Hermione had cast.
"Good morning, Luna," Hermione said. "And good morning, Luna," she added with a pointed look at the pockets of Luna's hoodie.
"She's not in there," Luna replied.
"Where is she then?" Ron asked, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned back against the door.
A tiny head popped up from the back of her jeans, followed by a tiny wave.
"She cast an Extension Charm on your back pocket?" Hermione blinked.
"Yes," Luna nodded with a smile. "That way, even if I'm searched or patted down, she's completely safe!"
"Yes!" wizarding Luna added in a surprisingly loud voice.
"She also cast an Amplifying Charm," Hermione told him.
"Yes!"
"Let's take a seat, then," Hermione said. She waved her wand at the table in the room, and a tiny armchair appeared on top of it. "Now, what were you thinking?"
Wizarding Luna calmly - at least it looked like it; details were hard to make out at that size - took her seat while Luna replied: "We were thinking of the poor animals who are being slaughtered by callous humans."
For a moment, Ron worried that they had struck against slaughterhouses. If, somehow, all the meat had been turned into soybeans…
"And what did you do?"
"Nothing. Not yet," Luna added. "We were just casing the joint."
Ron winced - he had been the one to teach her that expression.
"Also scouting locations," wizarding Luna added.
"And what are you preparing to do?" Hermione asked through clenched teeth.
"Did you forget? We want to save the endangered animals," Luna said. "We told you that, didn't we?"
"You did, but didn't we tell you that that would be problematic?" Hermione still hadn't unclenched her jaw, or so it seemed.
"You did. But it's only problematic if you don't plan and prepare properly," wizarding Luna retorted.
"Proper planning prevents piss poor performance," Luna chimed in. "And we've already got most of it worked out."
"What did you work out?" Ron asked before Hermione lost her temper.
"How to protect the animals, of course. We're using a multi-pronged strategy," Luna explained. That sounded like something Sirius would say - if he was trying to sound very serious and pompous. "Loss of habitat, poaching, pollution and vulnerability to diseases and invasive species, as well as a lack of genetic diversity, are the main causes for animals becoming extinct. We cannot address all of those equally well, but we figured out a strategy that should save many of the endangered species. Lack of genetic diversity is the easiest - once an animal's numbers are on the rise, that solves itself."
"Yes!" wizarding Luna chimed in. "For many species, merely stopping the loss of their habitat will suffice. And that's easy!"
"Easy?" Ron asked.
"Muggle-Repelling Charms," wizarding Luna said. "They'll keep out poachers and loggers and tourists, creating safe havens for all the animals!"
"You would have to cast countless numbers of those spells," Ron pointed out. Or so he thought - what exactly was the area of effect of that spell?
"And it would be blatantly illegal," Hermione hissed.
Luna shook her head. "I've checked - there are no laws against using magic. In most cases, we're just doing what the government would have done, were it not corrupt."
"Yes! As you told us, the Statute of Secrecy isn't in effect in this world," wizarding Luna added, "so we can do magic as we please. We'd still be discreet, of course - it makes it easier to keep muggles out of the preserves. For most preserves, we're actually just enforcing the muggle laws - with magic." The tiny Luna beamed at them.
"Exactly," Luna said, matching her counterpart's expression. "It's a huge project, but we'll be able to do it if we apply ourselves. And it'll cut into the profits of the corrupt corporations exploiting nature and nations - it's a win-win solution!"
"That's not what… never mind!" Hermione shook her head. "Even if this were a possible solution to the problem of species becoming extinct, it wouldn't change the fact that you betrayed our trust by going behind our backs!"
"You didn't say we weren't allowed to do it," Luna countered. "I would've remembered that. And we did it to protect you."
"Protect me?"
"Plausible deniability," Luna told her with a smile. "You can honestly claim you had no idea. Although now that's not true any more." She frowned, then smiled again. "I guess that means you're now a co-conspirator!"
"I'm not a co-conspirator!" Hermione objected at once.
"Does that mean that you'll report us to the Ministry?" wizarding Luna asked, sounding hurt.
"What? No!"
"Of course not!" Luna agreed with her. "We're not doing anything Hermione hasn't done herself. Or would do. We're using magic to protect the innocent and right a wrong!"
"What?" Hermione repeated herself. "That's… it's not like that." She shook her head. "This is dangerous! If you use magic so blatantly, sooner or later, people like the Russians we fought will take notice."
"But they're muggles," wizarding Luna said, frowning. "How could they find us in the first place?"
"The preserves we need to protect are far too large to let them prepare ambushes to catch us," Luna added. "And even so, all we need to do is to fly around while disillusioned and cast a quick spell." She beamed. "We tested it - I can fly the broom, leaving Luna free to cast."
"You tested it? Where?" Ron asked. He had a sinking feeling in his stomach. One which Hermione shared, judging by her expression.
"Britain doesn't have significant problems with poachers, and the national nature reserves are generally managed competently," Hermione pointed out.
And they were popular hiking spots as well.
"The most significant problem with the national nature reserves is that there aren't enough of them," Luna retorted.
"So we created a new one!" wizarding Luna added with the same grin Luna had worn when she told Ron about hacking into his school's computers.
"What did you do?" Hermione asked in a clipped tone.
"We covered Malfoy's land with Muggle-Repelling Charms," wizarding Luna told her.
"Yes!" Luna was also grinning now. "No one will be able to cut down the trees and bushes any more. Or hunt the poor foxes! Soon, nature will reclaim the entire area."
Ron blinked. "You locked Malfoy out of his own land?" That was… it couldn't have happened to a more deserving bloke! It looked like Luna hadn't forgotten the insults Malfoy had levelled at her when she and Ron had been dating.
"We saved the land that had had the misfortune of being claimed by such a disreputable and murderous family," Luna corrected him. "Foxes and other animals have rights, too! And they lived there before the Malfoys came!"
Ron laughed. The Malfoy's vaunted estate... turning into wilderness. No more hunts for them!
Hermione looked like she wanted to laugh as well, but managed to restrain herself. "You can't just do that to any park you see - not everyone is as bad as the Malfoys. And many people depend on being able to work in such parks."
"But I can give you a list of other estates you can visit," Ron added.
"I've already made a list," Luna said. "We're hitting the Parkinsons next."
"Yes!" Wizarding Luna nodded emphatically. "The more people who start their own reserves, the more who will be convinced that it was their own idea!"
Ron remembered how he had been affected by the charm and stopped smiling. As funny as imagining Malfoy losing his family's renowned contest-winning park was, that kind of mental manipulation was… disturbing.
"It might even start a trend," Luna said. "That would be a very good thing - Britain needs more nature reserves and fewer pleasure parks for the upper class!"
He looked at Hermione. She grimaced. "It sounds like it might work," she said.
"Yes! Hermione agrees!"
"I didn't say that!"
"Well, I think it's a good idea," Ron said. Hermione gasped and glared at him. "Though it'll keep you busy, won't it?" She closed her mouth - she would have realised his point: As long as the Lunas were converting parks and estates into nature reserves, they wouldn't do anything much more dangerous. Like messing with the government. Or with corporations - Luna maintained that they were one and the same past a thin veneer meant to fool the people.
"I guess…" Hermione managed to say without scowling too much.
"Great! Do you think we could start a competition among the upper classes for 'biggest donation to charity' as well?" Luna was beaming at them again.
"What? No!"
"Why not?" wizarding Luna asked. "They are very selfish, hoarding so much gold."
"Because…"
"And they can spare some money!" Luna said. "And it's better if they compete through donations than by buying overpriced luxury goods instead."
"It's not the money that's the issue," Hermione retorted. "But rather that you would be magically controlling dozens of muggles. Robbing them of their free will. And that's not right."
To Ron's surprise, both Lunas seemed to take this argument to heart. Well, Luna was a huge proponent of personal freedom.
"You're right," she said. "I didn't consider that."
"But it would just be a Compulsion Charm or two…" wizarding Luna tried to argue.
"No, no, Hermione's right," Luna told her. "It would be wrong to manipulate them with magic." She nodded with a firm expression. "We'll manipulate them with the power of the press instead! Like their pet journalists do to us!"
Ministry of Magic, Whitehall, London, Wizarding World, December 24th, 2005
The entrance hall of the Ministry was impressive. Two stories high and large enough to contain a fountain that could double as a pool without feeling crowded. The design was old-fashioned, but then again, that would match a number of the British government's buildings.
"It's just like I remember it," Ron heard Hermione say. "Except for the statue, of course. It's good that you didn't just restore the old one, either."
Ah, the statue. It depicted a group of wizards, witches and creatures, from what Ron could tell. Made from golden metal, and set in the fountain. A little too gaudy for his taste, if he was honest.
"Well, some people wanted to do that," wizarding Ron told her. "Something about 'restoring everything the Dark Lord destroyed to make a point', but we shut that down."
"Thank you." She was smiling at him as they walked past two red-robed Aurors. They greeted wizarding Ron, but didn't stare at Ron or Hermione - their disguises were working, then.
Wizarding Ron flicked his wand, and Ron heard a faint buzzing noise - a privacy charm if he wasn't mistaken. "It was the least we could do. We also wanted the muggleborn witch to be a depiction of you, but they decided on generic figures," the wizard went on.
"What?" Hermione gasped. "Are you serious?"
Wizarding Ron grinned at her. "No, just pulling your leg. You seemed nervous."
She rolled her eyes, and Ron refrained from glaring at his counterpart. "I haven't exactly appeared in public for years - not since the Yule Ball."
"Ah, right." Was wizarding Ron annoyed? He smiled before Ron could tell. "We got used to the circus after… you know."
"Yes."
"Don't worry, the press will be nice. They know better than to send another Skeeter." Wizarding Ron laughed.
"I see." Hermione's smile was quite thin.
"Well, they certainly can't be worse than our press," Ron added. "Bloody vultures were always hounding Ginny and Harry." Before they had to hide, of course.
Hermione glared at him. "At least they're independent," she said.
"They aren't, actually," he told her as they approached a lift. Well, apart from the BBC, but the BBC had never bothered Ron's family or friends. "Most of them are owned by Murdoch and his ilk." Luna had shown him the figures.
Her frown turned into a thin-lipped scowl at his retort. "That's still better than sending reporters who have fallen out of favour to Azkaban."
"Hey, we don't do that!" wizarding Ron protested.
The lift's doors opened before he or Hermione could add anything else, revealing Dawlish - no, wizarding Dawlish; he was wearing red robes.
"Oh, hi, John," Ron's counterpart said after cancelling the privacy charm.
"Morning, Ron!" The man looked at them, then back at Ron's counterpart.
Ron heard Hermione mutter something uncomplimentary under her breath as they stepped aside to let the Auror leave the cabin of the lift.
"Special guests for Kingsley's announcement," wizarding Ron explained.
"Ah, right. I'll see you later, then - I'm part of the security detail for the press conference."
"Better you than I."
Dawlish laughed, but Ron caught him giving them another glance before the Auror turned and walked away.
Hermione was still frowning as they entered the lift. "I hope he is more competent at providing security than he was at enforcing the law," she spat. "Of course, his ineptitude was a boon when he was working for Umbridge."
"Oh, he's alright," wizarding Ron said and pushed a button - they were travelling down, Ron noticed. "He was one of the Aurors who left when Voldemort took over." He shrugged. "Didn't join the Order, but few enough did. He helped take back the Ministry, though."
"Ah." Hermione sniffed.
It was rather opportunistic. And it fit the Dawlish Ron knew, of course - the man was quick to notice the direction in which the wind was blowing. "Our Dawlish would hate having to work under us," he commented.
"Really?" His counterpart looked surprised. "Well, he certainly would like to be in charge, but that's not going to happen unless Harry and I quit." He grinned. "Killing Voldemort means something, after all. You'll see that yourself."
"I can imagine," Hermione said.
"Though you aren't planning to enter the Ministry, are you?"
"Nothing is set in stone yet," she replied. "There's far too much to be sorted out before I can make any plans for the future."
"Ah, right."
They arrived at their floor, and the doors opened before anyone said anything else.
Two more Aurors - young ones, though - were standing guard right outside the lift.
"Trevor, Catherine." Wizarding Ron nodded at them but didn't stop to chat. He led Ron and Hermione straight down the hallway.
"Kingsley remodelled," she commented.
"He had to - this is where the Death Eater sympathisers made their last stand," wizarding Ron explained. "Wasn't much left when we were done - we didn't want to take any risks, so we blasted the entire floor to pieces, room by room. Messy, but we didn't lose anyone... Hey, Penny!" he said as he opened the door to the Minister's office.
The witch sitting at the desk in the antechamber - Penelope Clearwater, according to the nameplate - frowned at him, then smiled at them. "Hermione! So good to see you again."
"Penelope! I almost didn't recognise you," Hermione returned the smile. "So… you and Percy?"
"Yes." For a moment, the witch's smile grew even wider. "Go on in, Kingsley's expecting you - and the schedule's tight as it is."
"Alright, Penny!" wizarding Ron cheerfully replied.
The witch frowned again.
Ron shook his head as his counterpart opened the door to the Minister's office.
"Ah, right on time! As expected." The Minister greeted them with a broad smile as he stood up behind his desk. He was wearing a suit, Ron noticed. Not the robes he had worn yesterday. "Good morning, Miss Granger, Mr Weasley. Ron."
"Good morning, Minister," Hermione nodded in return. As did Ron.
"Morning, Hermione. Ron." Wizarding Harry smiled at them, though Ron noticed the smile dimming a little when the wizard nodded at him. He also hadn't missed that Harry's counterpart had been standing and facing them when they had opened the door.
"Of course - Hermione wouldn't let us be late," wizarding Ron said, grinning. "So… how many in the Ministry are already aware of the news? Penny wasn't surprised," he commented with a frown.
"As my personal secretary, she, of course, was informed," the Minister replied.
"And if Percy hadn't told her, he'd have had trouble at home, I guess." Wizarding Ron shrugged.
"Quite. But I don't think the news has spread beyond that," the Minister said.
"Only to Weasleys," wizarding Ron remarked.
"So… half the country?" Wizarding Harry smirked.
Everyone chuckled at the weak joke.
"I wouldn't mind if we avoided a big spectacle," Hermione said.
"I'm afraid that will be impossible," Shacklebolt told her. "Your return - your survival - is too important. It'll be the talk of the whole country over the holidays."
"At least you can tell them that you're booked solid with your family," wizarding Ron said. "Once the invitations start arriving."
"Invitations? What invitations?" Hermione looked surprised.
"To the various Christmas and New Year's parties, of course," wizarding Ron replied. "Everyone will want to invite you to theirs. You might even get an invitation to some Yule parties. Those are usually thrown by the pure-purebloods, but not inviting you would be seen as a snub. Harry charmed a quill so he doesn't have to decline every invitation himself each year."
"Though I do hope you'll attend the Ministry's New Year's Ball." Shacklebolt was smiling widely, but Ron couldn't help feeling that the Minister was being a little more serious than he wanted to appear. "It's the biggest event of the season."
"All of us are going," Ron's counterpart added with a chuckle. "It's like the Weasley-Potter New Year's party."
"I see." Hermione glanced at Ron, and he reached out to squeeze her hand. "I'm not certain if I'm up to such an event," she said. "I'm still trying to get my bearings and reconnect with my parents and friends."
"Well, most of us will be at the party," wizarding Ron replied. "As will most of our year. Those who survived, at least."
"Attending the party would be a way to reconnect with them in a more controlled manner," the Minister added. "And appearing in public will also satisfy the demand, so to speak."
Wizarding Harry nodded. "People tend to respect your privacy a little more if you do that. Not all of them, of course, but it helps."
"I'm not the Girl Who Lived," Hermione said. "I assume that this will blow over, anyway, once everyone realises that I'm not some..." She shrugged.
"You might be surprised, Miss Granger." The Minister smiled in a slightly patronising way, in Ron's opinion.
"In that case, I think I'm overdressed," Hermione retorted with a toothy smile, running a hand over her deux-pièce. "I should have worn a ripped jumper and jeans, then, with some bloodstains, to fit the image."
Everyone laughed again, but it felt forced - at least to Ron.
"You look perfect," the Minister told her. "Very professional. You must have a good job in your muggle life."
"Thank you." Hermione's smile was rather lopsided. "I wish. With my missing past, I couldn't have a career."
"Well, that's no longer the case - every door's open for you now." The Minister turned to look at Ron. "Your presence will also draw attention, of course. The people love a good love story."
Ron shrugged. "I'll be happy if people accept that I'm a mere muggle."
"Of course they will!"
Wizarding Harry and Ron looked less optimistic. "You could stay in the background," Ron's counterpart said. "Keep a low profile for a bit, until the excitement's faded."
"I don't like to hide," Ron told him. He wouldn't let the wizards drive him away from Hermione. It might be smarter - less risk of someone seeing through his disguise - but, still… it would feel like giving up. "Besides, I'm a Weasley - that should count for something, shouldn't it?"
The surprised expression on his counterpart's face almost made Ron laugh out loud.
"Hello, everyone! Shouldn't you be getting ready? The event is scheduled to begin in ten minutes!"
What? That was Hermione's voice, but…
Ron turned and saw Hermione's portrait beaming at them from where it had apparently ousted the usual resident in the painting behind the Minister's desk.
"What is it doing here?" Hermione addressed Shacklebolt.
"I came to watch how you address a crowd, of course!" the portrait said in a far too cheery and far too Hermione-like voice. "So I can do the same when addressing the students at Hogwarts!"
"What?"
"I need to study you to be more like you. Observing you in different situations serves that purpose. Individual lessons would be preferred, of course, although they might also show more bias. Neutral observation does not suffer from that drawback." The portrait nodded emphatically. "By combining both methods, I should be able to achieve my goal with the utmost efficiency."
Hermione glared at her wizarding friends. "Shouldn't it be at Hogwarts?"
"I often visit the Minister for Magic to give advice, although he doesn't follow up on it as often as I'd expect. I suspect that is because I still haven't managed to duplicate you to a sufficient degree."
"Don't tell me that you let a portrait set policy!" Hermione blurted out.
"Her input has proven quite valuable in the past," Shacklebolt replied. "Listening to a different viewpoint rarely hurts before making a decision."
Especially if it also allowed the Minister to more readily use Hermione's name. Ron smiled thinly.
"Exactly," the portrait said. "I love advising people."
"I bet," Ron heard Hermione mumble.
"But you really should now go," the painting went on, "or you might be late."
"They won't start without us," wizarding Ron said.
"That doesn't mean you should make them wait. Quite the contrary, actually - with great power comes great responsibility."
"I never said that!" Hermione protested. "That's from a comic book!"
"That doesn't mean that it's wrong," the portrait retorted. "You should separate the argument from the person making it, you know?"
Hermione looked like she wanted to separate the portrait's head from its neck. "It's right, though," she said through clenched teeth. "Let's go!"
"Of course I'm right! I'm your portrait."
As soon as they were inside the lift - and, presumably, away from any paintings - Hermione turned to stare at Shacklebolt and said: "'A different point of view'? Portraits only say what they have been taught!"
"Well, we did our best with her," wizarding Ron replied. "She's not you, but she's not bad."
"It. It's a portrait. Not a living being," Hermione corrected him.
"Careful! That sounds like discrimination against the painted!" Wizarding Harry was smiling as he said it, but Hermione still glared at him.
"Whatever. It seems I do need to teach the portrait better," she said.
"That's an excellent idea," the Minister agreed.
"We'll see."
The lift stopped, cutting off any further discussion of that or any other topic, and they stepped out into a hallway - not the Atrium, as Ron had expected, where the press conference, if the announcement deserved that title, would take place.
"Please wait here until I call all of you," Shacklebolt said. "We wouldn't want to spoil the surprise, now would we?" He flashed his broad smile again.
Ron was quite sure that Hermione considered doing exactly that, but she nodded in agreement after a moment. "Alright."
"It won't take long," wizarding Ron told her, stretching a little. "Not like Fudge. That man could ramble."
"It was the least of his faults," Hermione said. "I'm a little surprised Shacklebolt didn't want to know what I'm planning to say," she added after a moment.
"He knows you wouldn't respond well to any attempt to tell you what to say," wizarding Harry said with a very familiar grin.
"Ah. Did you tell him?"
"Yes. Though as you saw, he's familiar with your portrait," the wizard told her.
"Who isn't me." Hermione pursed her lips.
"No, but she's quite similar to you," Ron's counterpart said. At the glare he received, he added: "A little, at least. And she's based on teenage you."
"Like based on a true story?" Ron asked, trying to defuse the growing tension.
Hermione laughed. "More or less. At least you got the hair correct."
"We had to work for that - the painter tried to insist on a 'more fitting hairstyle'," wizarding Ron said.
"And a more heroic bust, I bet." Hermione shook her head with a rueful grin.
"Well… yes," wizarding Harry admitted. "But we put our foot down there as well."
"We wanted to remember you as we knew you, not as some…" wizarding Ron trailed off, gesturing.
"...exaggerated portrait?" Hermione prompted.
"Well, you were a right terror as a prefect," he told her. "Not even Percy managed to keep Fred and George under control, but you did. Mostly."
"I just took my duties seriously," Hermione replied in a slightly clipped tone.
"Very seriously," wizarding Harry said with a grin. "And we love you for it."
Before Ron could add a comment of his own, the door in front of them swung open. Showtime.
He could hear Shacklebolt as they walked into the Atrium: "...and it is with great pleasure that I can announce that reports of her death have been greatly exaggerated. Hermione Granger is alive!"
The Minister's announcement, together with their - Hermione's - appearance triggered an uproar and an old-fashioned flurry of flashbulbs.
"Miss Granger!"
"Hermione!"
"HERMIONE!"
Ron blinked. There was Luna in the first row, waving excitedly.
"Granger!"
"How did you survive?"
"Miss Granger!"
"What happened?"
"Where did you spend the last seven years?"
By the time they reached the podium where Shacklebolt was standing, Ron had fallen a step behind Hermione, who was flanked by her friends. This was her moment. Even though he could tell that she had to force herself to smile.
"Please, please - calm down. Let Hermione speak, and your questions will be answered."
It took the Minister a little while to calm the crowd - there weren't many journalists; the majority of the people present had to be Ministry employees. Perhaps visitors as well.
As the Minister ceded her the spot behind the podium, Hermione cleared her throat and stepped up. "Thank you, Minister." She nodded at him, then at the audience. "Good morning, everyone. Yes, I didn't die in the Battle of Hogwarts, as you can see. However, I was struck by an unknown curse, and while I managed to escape, I lost my wand and my memory. And, in addition to that, due to a magical mishap involving Fiendfyre, I ended up a long way away from Hogwarts. It wasn't until recently that I recovered my memory and remembered that I am a witch and not a muggle."
That started another, although a bit quieter, uproar, though Hermione kept talking: "As soon as I could manage to do so without a wand, I contacted my family and friends, who confirmed my identity." She nodded, a little jerkily. "I'm back."
She held up a hand to stop the questions already being launched at her and looked over her shoulder at Ron. "To forestall any speculation and questions about my relationship status: I fell in love while I lived as a muggle. This is my partner, Ronald." She held out her hand, and Ron joined her, smiling at the audience. "Yes, he's a muggle."
"Hi, Ronald!" Luna yelled.
"Alright, everyone," Shacklebolt smoothly stepped up again. "We're now open for a few questions, though keep in mind: Hermione returned very recently and is still readjusting to life in Wizarding Britain, not to mention reconnecting with all her friends and family who thought she'd died years ago."
"Miss Granger, why did it take you seven years to return?"
Ron saw her smile slip a little more as she eyed the man who had asked that question."You're from the Daily Prophet, correct?"
The wizard nodded. "Yes, Miss Granger. Hieronimus Smith." He seemed pleased to have been recognised.
"It figures." Hermione inclined her head. "As I just mentioned, I had lost my memories. I didn't recover them until very recently. I returned to Wizarding Britain as soon as I could, I assure you."
"Miss Granger! Delia Dirgebattle, Thaumaturgy Monthly. How did you recover your memory? There are several cases of Obliviation mishaps at St Mungo's who might benefit from a new approach."
"I'm sorry, but as far as I can tell, it was accidental magic," Hermione replied.
"At your age?" The journalist adjusted her glasses and frowned.
"It's not unheard of, I believe."
"No, but generally, for an adult to use accidental magic the situation would have to be a very stressful one."
"No comment."
"Miss Granger! Selena Selwyn, Witch Weekly! How did your boyfriend react to the revelation of magic?"
"Why don't you ask him?" Hermione told the witch and looked at Ron.
"Well, I was very surprised, but I think I've adjusted well." Ron smiled and wrapped an arm around Hermione's waist. "As long as we're together everything's great."
Selwyn beamed, though he saw a number of frowns.
"Herbert Müller, Magischer Kurier. Why wasn't your partner obliviated? The International Statute of Secrecy is very clear that knowledge of magic is to be restricted to close muggle family members. And while it's common knowledge that many witches and wizards tell their fiancés before the wedding, it's still illegal."
"He has magical relations, as we recently discovered," Hermione retorted.
"Could you elaborate on that?" the presumably German wizard asked.
"I could, but then I'd have to obliviate you." Hermione bared her teeth at him, which was probably the reason there wasn't much laughter following her remark. "Next question - Luna?"
"Luna Lovegood, The Quibbler! Ronald, which magical creature are you most looking forward to meeting?"
He blinked. "Err… dragons, I guess."
"Katie Nott, Teen Witch Weekly. Mr Potter, what were your feelings on being reunited with your best friend?"
"I'm very, very happy, of course. For years, we've mourned her, and now Hermione has returned to us, hale and whole. Words cannot express my feelings and my family's feelings."
"Francine Dubois, Tribune Magique. Mr Weasley, how did your wife react to your old lover returning from death?"
Well, Ron thought as wizarding Ron stepped up to reply with a smile that was very obviously fake, the difference between British and foreign wizarding journalists is quite clear.
Strangely, though, he felt more at ease now - this was how he was used to the press behaving.
"Don't touch anything, Miss Granger. The ointment needs a little time to work on your hands. That includes scratching."
"Yes, Madam Pomfrey," she replied. She smiled despite the itching of her hands. The ointment had dulled the pain in her hands, and itches were a small price to pay for that relief. She had barely managed to keep from crying before Harry and Ron had rushed her out of the Great Hall. Undiluted Bubotuber pus - what sort of monster would send that to her? And in response to some blatantly made-up article in the Daily Prophet? Who would do such a thing?
Most Slytherins, apparently, she answered her own question, if their mocking laughter at her misfortune was anything to go by.
She gritted her teeth - in anger, not pain now. If that pus had hit her face she could have gone blind. If Madam Pomfrey hadn't been so skilled, and so quick, her hands might have been ruined for weeks. And Malfoy and his ilk thought that was funny?
She wished they had been drenched in the stuff. See if they still thought it was funny then!
And the Daily Prophet's editor, too! To let an article full of such filthy lies pass was a crime against journalism!
As soon as she could use her hands again, she was going to write a letter to the Daily Prophet!