May 2004
"Hermione," Harry hissed through his teeth, and crumpled the letters in his hand. The woman in question glanced back at Harry from over her shoulder, rolled her eyes, and went back to preparing breakfast.
"Honestly, Harry. I'm not sure why it is such a huge deal. So, you'll take Ginny to the party, fill your yearly quota for being social, and then slink back to the hole in which you've been hiding." Harry winced, assuming that when Hermione said hole, she was being rude about Luna. Hermione turned then and looked at Harry, her expression softening. "For what it is worth, I am sorry. I did say that I tried to talk McGonagall out of answering for you… but she was so confused, so insistent to have an answer as to why Gin couldn't be your date." Hermione stepped towards Harry and placed a hand on his shoulder. Breakfast was forgotten for the moment.
"I don't want to make this about me but Harry… please see the situation that you've put me in. Should I have come out and told McGonagall why? That you and Ginny have broken up? God, Harry, no one seems to know and it has been months. I practically flew out of my skin when she told me what she'd done and there she sat, staring at me like I was completely insane." Hermione studied Harry's face for a moment.
Harry let out a pent-up sigh and placed his forehead against the dining table. He could feel the panic, the anxiety creeping up his neck in the form of a deep red and he willed his heart to stop hammering. "No, you were right in not saying anything," he finally answered.
Hermione returned to her breakfast. Apart from the snapping of cooking potatoes, the small kitchen was silent. Harry could feel the tension rolling off of Hermione like small waves but could not bring himself to address it. No, he was fighting off his own panic attack.
"I just don't understand why you're hiding this. Obviously Ginny knows that the two of you have broken up… maybe she's at a loss for a reason why, but she knows that it is over and she is doing her best at moving forward. Arthur and Molly and the rest of the family know that it is over too. And Ron and I both know, and we know the reason why." Once more, Hermione turned to Harry. "All of your family knows and look, we still love you."
Harry barked out a laugh at his.
"What? We do!" Hermione snapped, color flooding into her cheeks. "Maybe the vast majority of us don't quite get it. But then again, you haven't done a very good job at letting us try to understand, Harry Potter. I know I've been mean to Luna in the past-"
"Mean? You were a right bully!"
"If I was a bully, so were you! Do not pretend to be so innocent in this. I was unkind, yes. But the moment you finally owned up to having feelings for her, I changed my course. But you!" Hermione stepped towards Harry and jabbed a finger into his shoulder, hard. "You have not let anyone in. For years you and Ginny were a couple, and a seemingly happy couple at that. And then, one day, you up and decide that your relationship with her isn't up to par-" Hermione raised her voice as Harry opened his mouth to defend himself. "No! You will listen to me!" Harry snapped his mouth closed.
"No one understood why, least of all Ginny! I tried to understand and I know that I went too far that night but God, Harry. I am only human. But you know what? We moved on from the shock and continued to love you in spite of it. I have seen you at your highest and your lowest, and I would have thought that you'd give me the credit to stick by you in this. And the kicker of it all? I can't even wrap my mind around why you're keeping Luna a secret!"
At that, Hermione whirled back around to her potatoes which were undeniably burning. With a flourish of her wand, the range snapped off and the frying pan divided two perfectly symmetrical helpings on to the plates waiting on the countertop. The pan deposited itself into the sink, and Hermione carried the plates to the table. Dropping a helping in front of Harry, Hermione sank into the chair across from him. Harry finally pulled himself up from the table and stared vacantly at his breakfast. The thought of eating nauseated him.
Harry glanced up at his friend and watched her push the potatoes around her plate with a fork. Harry noticed that the hand Hermione used to clutch the fork was turning white around the knuckles. She was right – at least he could admit that to himself. At the very least, Harry owed Hermione an explanation.
"I'm…" He began and stopped, trying to understand how to formulate the words that were whirring about in his head. Hermione stopped her pursuit of the food, set her fork on the plate, and folded her hands on her lap. She stared at him with an intensity that he had not felt in months. She was not going to let him get away without coming clean.
"I'm embarrassed, okay? Christ fucking Jesus, you just had to make me say it!" Harry snapped. Hermione's eyes went wide as saucers for a fraction of a second before anger flooded into her cheeks.
"I didn't make you say a single damn thing, Harry. If that's the truth, that is the truth. But don't you go blaming me for it," she retorted through clenched teeth.
Harry ran his fingers frantically through his hair, tugging on the ends so that they shot straight out of his head at wild angles. Calm the fuck down, he demanded of himself. Harry looked back at Hermione. This is one of your oldest mates. Just tell her the truth, he coached.
"I'm… I'm sorry, okay. Look, everyone loved the idea of Ginny and I together. 'The Boy Who Lived and the very talented young Quidditch player.' It helped that her family practically raised me and that her brother and his fiancée were my best mates. Our relationship just fit. It just made sense. The press loved us. And for once in my life, I could enjoy being in the center of the attention because I was there being celebrated… not persecuted. I don't need to tell you this because you know it, Hermione. Ginny and I just made sense. But Luna?" Harry barked out a laugh. "Even I still cringe when she mentions The Quibbler. Can you imagine the field day that the Prophet would have if they caught wind of who I was with? They'd think that I'd finally lost it. I'm not stupid, Hermione. Maybe they were worshipping me in the press for my heroics during the War but I know they caught wind of my drinking. But they still portrayed me as a war hero. For them, Luna would be the straw that broke the camel's back and make people realize that Harry Potter has finally lost his fucking mind."
Hermione studied her friend for a moment, her eyes narrowing as her gaze roamed over Harry's face. "You do realize what an absolute ass you sound like when you say that, right?" Harry balked and began to stammer. Hermione simply held up a hand and Harry fell silent. "If I am understanding you correctly, you are saying that you're too embarrassed of who Luna is-"
"No, not who Luna is. Just wha-"
"Don't try to pin your embarrassment on Xenophilius or on The Quibbler. Because make no mistakes there, Harry Potter, both her father and that publication have played enormous roles in shaping the woman who you claim to be in love with," Hermione said.
"It isn't a claim. I am in love with her," Harry muttered.
"Then I suggest that you grant her the respect that she is due as the woman whom you love and not treat her as some dirty little secret. Merlin's beard, Harry, can you just open your ears and listen to how you sound? I'm half tempted to get you in contact with Rita Skeeter because you'll need one like-minded person to commiserate with after Luna discovers that you're too concerned about your reputation to own up to your relationship with her." Harry winced. "When did you become so shallow? You're sitting across the table from me and I can't even recognize the person who you've become. The Harry I knew would say screw the press. The Harry I knew took Luna Lovegood to the Slug Club and didn't give a damn as to what anyone else thought." Hermione pushed her chair away from the table and stood. She collected Harry's untouched plate and dumped the contents into the bin.
"I think it is time you go. I am feeling disgusted by this conversation and by the very sight of you," Hermione said. "I hope that something I said sank into that thick skull of yours this morning and if nothing has, I suggest you listen to me on this point. We love you, Harry. I know that you'd sooner roll your eyes than believe me but it is the truth. And if you'd give us – your family – the credit and Luna the chance, I believe we'd all come to understand why you love her so much. But until that day comes, I can't stomach the sight of you. You've lost your courage, Harry Potter, and all over something as fleeting as a reputation."
Harry stared at Hermione in shock. "So, that's it then?" Hermione simply nodded her response and Harry jumped up from the table, suddenly angry. "Fine, then. I'll see you at the party. Don't feel the need to make false conversation with me there." Harry stomped his way through Hermione and Ron's home and as soon as he reached the front door, he heard Hermione's voice call out.
"Harry? You needn't worry about fake conversation with me. There's only one person in this house who is obsessed with his reputation, and it isn't me. I'm not concerned with keeping up false appearances. Oh, and Harry? One last thing. I'm not sure which tabloids you've been reading about yourself but maybe you should open your eyes. The press doesn't worship you. You may be a war hero, but you're a fallen one indeed. If anything, they take delight in reporting your drunken romps through the town. Don't forget to close the door behind you."
A dull buzz filled Harry's ears and his vision blurred momentarily. He glanced back towards the kitchen and could barely make out the shape of Hermione's back, which was turned toward him. The sudden onset of anger and rage clouded his vision and put a light sheen of read over top of everything that he looked at. Harry stepped out from Hermione and Ron's house, and slammed the door behind him.
Shake it off, Potter. Shake it off. She doesn't fucking understand. Harry took several deep breaths in through his nose and once more found himself willing his heartbeat to slow. If he didn't have to return to Luna, Harry was sure that his feet would carry him to the closest bar to get rip-roaring drunk despite the fact that it was merely 9:30 in the morning.
Get a plan, Harry. Get a plan, he prompted himself. No, Harry wouldn't get drunk this morning. But he would walk back to Luna's home – no matter how long it took him to get there. Harry glanced down at the letters clutched in his hand and smoothed them out, studying McGonagall's missive once more.
"I'll go to the party, with Gin. And once that's over, I'll work on bringing Luna out into society with me," Harry muttered to himself and then instantly winced. What kind of asshole had he become? Society? Harry shook his head violently. "One more function and then I'll come clean." Harry rounded his shoulders and bounded off of the front stoop, headed in the direction of Luna's home. He knew what he was going to do, but he still needed the walk to figure out how to address Luna.