The story principally starts on May 7, 1998 – a few days after the battle of Hogwarts and spanning several thereafter, with several Seventh of May as crucial pit stops in the lives of Hermione Granger and Minerva McGonagall.

Just borrowing the characters from JK Rowling and spinning them into my liking for several thousands of words, hence this would be a long read. Something to kidnap you from time to time, from your current life. For the very first time, I finally got the urge to pen down one of the stories in my head. Kindly let me know how I do? This is absolutely green writing in the name of fan fictions

There would be a dabble here and there of details that were written in the books and included in the movie, but some I have taken the liberty to expand or cut in order to suit this story. But definitely this is not for those who have certain exclusions on love… DO NOT READ if you couldn't find beauty in women loving women.

BrendaTheGoodBitch wonderfully volunteered to beta this story. Thank you so much for the excellent clean-up on all of my mistakes :) Hence, I am re-posting the edited chapters.

Chapter 01: Severus Snape Laid To Rest

May 7, 1998

Hermione Granger— heavily weighed down by the recently ended war and the enveloping aftermaths that plague war survivors— had retreated to her parents' old house in London. They were still in Australia with altered memories and she had yet to deal with that aspect of her life once the borders opened and was given permission by the Ministry to travel to another continent.

For nearly three days, she found herself ineffectual in her old bed on a self-imposed seclusion, mostly wasting away, for even basic sustenance of eating and sleeping had been neglected. Consequently, she had become more lightheaded with each passing second. But the heaviness that had settled on her chest was so dominant that it fended off anything else but misery...

She barely managed to drag herself out of the house when she had to attend funerals, heavily glamoured to hide her sunken eyes and much pale complexion. And she appeared only at services for people she considered as good friends, like Fred Weasley... And Remus Lupin... And Nymphadora Lupin. While Remus and Tonks are— were— not exactly friends, they were close allies brought on by their relevant roles during the war.

The truth is, Hermione would rather not attend at all, not even Fred's— who was almost a brother to her… It is not for lack of respect for the dead, or lack of sympathy for the loved ones that are left. Because one look at the Weasleys, especially at the enduring twin brother George— Hermione knew, mentally fucked or not, it wasn't indifference...

But really, what substance could she give right now that would truly matter to the Weasleys? Could she bring back Fred? Or just pay with default platitudes expected in a civilised society? What an irony when their society was just in fierce strife to alienate each other a few days ago? And honestly, who had the strength at this time when just getting out of bed took extreme effort?

Sure, she understood that funerals are generally for goodbyes, but for fuck's sake, they had all been saying goodbye to each other for quite sometime. They might as well have started their long farewells the night that Sirius Black got killed at the Department of Mysteries, which finally led to public acknowledgment of Voldemort's return. And in her mind, that was the official gun start, and Harry's trip to the graveyard that killed Cedric during the tri-wizard was the mere teaser...

...

As the morning light penetrated Hermione's window slowly but surely, she looked at the muggle calendar hanging on one side of the wall, magically flipping to find the correct month, only to realise that it was the previous year. She abandoned the useless cardboard and cracked her brain to calculate the date...

Today was the fifth day following the final battle- the seventh of May. Today was when they were due to finish with the last of the funeral service for all the lost lives of friends and foes. And reverently, the last one would be for Severus Snape—to be laid to rest.

Admittedly, she would not get out of the house today if the funeral was for someone else... She decided that to attend was to take part in penance for wrongly judging Severus Snape. But foremost, to attend was to be there for Harry.

She knew her best friend too well. Undoubtedly, he would exclusively claim all the guilt about not stopping Voldemort sooner. Harry would take all the blame in not saving the many fallen fellow students, friends and professors— especially Severus Snape... after what he had left Harry of the truth- Severus' truth.

Thus, Hermione found herself taking a shower where she stayed underneath the hot water until it almost burned her skin, trying in vain to overlap another ugly burn on her skin, a souvenir from the war. She then glamoured herself to hide her misery like the previous days. She knew she had to put Harry first— at least for the next couple of hours. Despite her own struggle, she decided to lend her best friend some fortitude, something she did not know if she had to give… as she herself had been drowning in vagueness.

...

Standing behind Harry with Ron at her side, Hermione was very careful not to let her sight wander, not permitting herself to face confrontations she'd rather not deal with right now. Not when she did not have the indulgence of seclusion. She kept herself in-check to not draw unwanted attention. So she concentrated on staring at the back of Harry's head, or at most, drew her eyes down seemingly studying her shoes, all the while listening to the eulogy for their dead professor...

"Let's call a spade, spade."

The Headmistress of Hogwarts started. Hermione could hear no one else during this time but the venerated witch. Vaguely she thought that even the wind dared not make a sound.

"None of us were any wiser about Severus Snape's true allegiance. We strongly believed that he betrayed and murdered Albus Dumbledore per Voldemort's bidding."

Even without looking around, Hermione knew that some still cringed at the loudly voiced name of Voldemort. The name that caused immeasurable destruction to their world and unbearable pain in their hearts..

She also knew that the ringing truth from the Headmistress was clipping everyone to an unerring silence and motionlessness. If the current situation were nowhere as tragic, she would laugh and think that a massive silencing spell over the crowd in attendance had been cast, instead of delivering words of reverence for the dead professor.

"I, myself duelled with him...believing that I had to— that I had to protect Mr. Potter from him. My advanced age and supposed brilliant mind failed to grasp the factual matter that for the last year residing with him at Hogwarts, that while he did not outwardly protect the students and professors— neither did he subject anyone to much graver peril when he could have easily done so as Headmaster… When he could have handed out information concerning many of us to the death eaters. Make it simpler to eliminate us and greatly expedite the spread of darkness."

The Headmistress painstakingly pressed details that transpired at Hogwarts. Apparently switching the vantage point, so that staff, students, and parents, altogether comprehend the veracity of the circumstances during Snape's headship. To some extent, particularly for the surviving members of the Order and their families, she was underlining the safeguard measures they had unknowingly received... Hermione understood that Minerva McGonagall was strongly defining the context surrounding Severus Snape's heroism. Ending any disbelief for everyone, right here, right now. Unequivocally.

"Numerous times he must have inwardly slapped me at my Gryffindor foolishness whenever Gryffindor courage had brought me to his office, under my own notion of defending the students and staff from him. Never, never supposing that he must have saved my back too many times from the true death eaters residing with us at Hogwarts. How he managed to circumvent the death eaters' evil plan to remove me from Hogwarts and send me to Azkaban, or to my demise, I will never know. But I. AM. Eternally. Indebted."

For some reason, Hermione could identify too well with the frustrating sorrow emitting from the knowledge that 'she should have used her supposed logical mind'. That she should have seen how some things never quite added up. How Snape had really done no harm to Harry. How in fact, he had tried saving him a couple of times. She should have at least suspected something, her supposed 'golden brain' never failed her. Indeed, the exasperation from this highlighted oversight was quite adding to her mounting misery.

"Coward… the last thing he heard me say to him."

Hermione flinched. On hearing the wearisome remarks, she could only guess how tenfold the sorrow they had caused to a much brilliant witch such as Minerva McGonagall.

"I could not have been more oblivious that we were still together against darkness, and fighting under the same banner of light."

At the steady and yet compelling words spoken by the Headmistress, Hermione realised that the venerated woman was with her, with Harry, and who knows who else and how many more — who had found themselves onboard in seeking penance for their grave judgement against Severus Snape.

"Hindsight after the war brings pain and liberation. Sorrow and tenderness are friends to visit us as we further uncover what parts were played by whom in the war... Some of the truth we'd know would break more of our hearts, either through realisation of the poor choices we have deliberately made, or from letdown by others' partaking... A number of them would take a very long time before we could uncover its veracity, and thus most likely postpone the intended effect... However, for every facet we stumble upon, as we bring ourselves forth, it is incumbent upon us, to faithfully learn the intended lessons while we put back the scattered pieces our hearts... the cluttered bricks of our world"

Hermione let the well-known lilt wash over her, the one she had heard for six years at Hogwarts. She absorbed the distinct voice that she had always associated with studiousness and upstanding conduct… But with the recognition of its familiarity was the introduction of a considerable 'newness' that one could not negate.

She searched the owner of the voice for the customary Head of House she had come to so many times for advanced learning, support, and advice. For the woman who had always welcomed her over-eagerness to learn without exasperation or conceit, but with genuine interest to teach her... But strangely, the one Hermione found in its place right now is not just her former Transfiguration Professor. She thought about the year she had missed at Hogwarts while hunting horcruxes that likely spelled the difference... That more of the startling leap to now being THE Headmistress... it was quite undeniable. And certainly, the sound vibrated from no less than a three-time war heroine.

Hermione shoved down the creeping emotion and chastised her maudlin self. She could not afford to confront the 'after war reality' right now… Even later was a tall order… She refocused her eyes at the back of Harry's head, resumed listening, and aimed her thoughts toward the wizard they are laying to rest, Severus Snape.

"While Harry might continually feel that he was too late in reaching Severus Snape that night, had he not reached him at all… It would be for some time that we remained ungrateful, and obtuse of his sacrifice. Unworthy of his brilliance…"

Hermione could visibly notice Harry's affected stance when his name was mentioned, more so of the denotation of their professor's sacrifice. She just knew that for a moment, her best friend had been mentally transported to the boathouse... at the time they found Snape holding on to his life long enough for him to hand his tears for the memory...for the truth.

"And left us ignorant of his love…"

Harry's harrowing intake of breath had Hermione considering stepping closer to him for support, but she stopped herself from doing so as she caught him send a nod across them. She deduced that Harry's acknowledgment was directed at the Headmistress, and its significance that an unspoken understanding between the two was in place. In some ways, it brought her comfort that her Harry had accepted a kind of caring that he usually denied himself. Her heart thumped in another meaning at the comprehension...

"Severus Snape played his role with perfection, for had he not; we would not be standing in the light today… Less than a truer Slytherin could not accomplish such. Less than a brave Slytherin would never take on the mission."

There. A long-standing Head of Gryffindor, the house of the brave, had given reverence to such courage, displayed by no other than the recent-past Head of Slytherin— their 'rival' house.

"Severus…"

At the long pause after the slight wavering of the usually rich voice, Hermione could not help but lift her eyes in curiosity and automatic concern towards the woman, who imperceptibly gathered her renowned self-control before continuing with her words.

"…Severus, I never understood your habit of prattling your chess strategies after a match. I found it rather hilarious that you'd insist on making a play-by-play rationale of all your moves, particularly the rare times you beat me. And we would have our repeated short question-and-answer-portion... I would ask— 'Whatever for Severus, the game is done?' And you would answer— 'The game perhaps, but not our match. And you must never doubt, Minerva.'

There was another pause, a longer one, and Hermione caught a well-controlled tightening of jaw by the revered woman, one who was making a rare act of personal disclosure to the public.

"I only recently caught on to your meaning, and for that I am truly sorry... Surely, I will miss our chess games."

The emotions flowed but in a blink, the absolute control was back... Hermione caught a twitch of the woman's mouth in apparent amusement. Hermione thought she saw fondness, a deep sense of friendly attachment for the dead professor. A sure wonder, as the two Heads always appeared before the students in constant clash.

"Here's to your peace, my friend." She saluted while conjuring a delicate flower-plant on top of Severus Snape's mount. It was decorated with intricate trimmings of Hogwarts colors but with dominant Slytherin's green.

"Peace Lily plant." Harry remarked.

Hermione's head jerked and the hairs at her nape rose as Harry's breathless utterance cut across the restraints. Peripherally, she saw a couple of those in attendance unable to hold in their tears, perhaps sensitive to the underlying significance of the plant, or perhaps the depth of the Headmistress' words and poignant actions had finally flooded their heavy emotions.

In the overwhelming silence that draped around them, Hermione stepped forward and reached for one of Harry's hands to remind him that she and Ron were just standing behind him. When he gave her a reassuring squeeze, she let go of their clasped hands but remained physically close to him. Harry then had decided to lean on her for a literal solicitation of comfort. She ended one arm hugging his waist, standing behind him.

Ron also followed suit, and he stepped nearer to them. Automatically, Hermione's other hand reached out to Ron, gently rubbing his forearm, sending him comfort as well. She knew Ron too well, and she understood how he was hating himself for the severe prejudice he carried out for their dead Professor when they were at Hogwarts...

The result of their physical actions had them unreservedly close, illustrative of their treasured friendship... One that survived a war...

From such highly-charged emotions, she found herself unguardedly lifting her eyes towards the Headmistress. She found the woman intently looking back at the three of them, from a few feet across. After a long wordless and motionless moment, Minerva McGonagall eventually gave a fervent nod... one directed at Harry... for when he returned it, Hermione confirmed the ongoing understanding between them.

Hermione watched the woman turn around, take several steps away and disapparate, but not before she moved her wand over the leaves on the ground, raised them high above, transfigured them into pretty lilies, and softly let them fall around them.

The touching gesture caused several gasps of surprise. It also altered the somber faces into chuckling ones. Harry turned to Hermione with an open grin pasted on his face.

"Professor Snape would be cursing right now at the drama." Harry whispered in light jest. She let out a small smile, but more from the relief that her best friend is doing better than she'd expected from him, considering where they are exactly... Then she wordlessly asked if he was ready to leave. Harry responded by linking their arms, so she moved purposely to steer themselves away from the crowd to disapparrate.

She knew that Harry had opted to stay at the Weasleys until he could fix Grimmauld, or look for a house in Godric's hollow. She too had an open invitation at the Burrow, but declined. She gently reasoned that she needed to do something and would visit another day. But the truth was, she had every intention of going back to doing nothing but stare at her old bedroom's ceiling. She simply wanted to be away from any prying eyes— and no matter how genuinely concerned the Weasleys were, she was kinda unwilling to accept anything, from anyone... She was too unsettled and would need more time to sort things out.

"Are you okay, Harry, with…" she asked while gesturing to the interred professor they walked away from. She was itching to leave but delayed her takeoff, at least until she was sure that the small grin she had seen on her best friend's face was indeed candid, or at least not so much of a forced one, if the latter was the case.

"Yes Mione... Minerva had—"

Before Harry could finish his answer, and before Hermione could comment on Harry's casual use of the Headmistress' first name, the new Minister, Kingsley Shacklebolt had reached them; effectively cutting off their conversation.

Hermione silently groaned. She had already figured out what he wanted from them... He reminded them of the ceremony to occur in the afternoon on Hogwarts' grounds. It was said to symbolically turn the 'Ending and Beginning' chapters for their Wizarding World... Hermione was deciding how best to dismiss the Minister when she heard his bargain.

"This is the only one I'd subject you three to attend. After this, you can ignore ALL Ministry functions whenever you like...for as long as you like... I mean it... And later on, when or if you'd work at the Ministry, I tell you, until I am serving as the Minister, you have my permission to be absent to all official events. But please, NOT for this afternoon's. That's how much I want you three for this ceremony."

Hermione knew that while Kingsley understood that they are more deserving of a break, he was currently pleading his case, making them consider the merit of having the 'Golden Trio' at the ceremony to bring home an important message for the rest of them. That message was about— 'going forward together'. And Hermione had to give it to the Minister for employing honesty; he told them that he knew he couldn't do anything if they refused, as he had no right to ask for more from any of them.

He was even smart to mention to them that although these things may come as artificial; he was most willing to try anything that could possibly help propel what was left of their world to the next chapter. He talked without sugarcoating and Hermione could see his words working on both of her best friends' consciences. She would give it to the Minister, he was indeed a true Ravenclaw with his well-placed premises.

"The Headmistress said she'll deal with you… with it.. if we don't show up. "

Harry managed to sound daring and modest at the same time with his retort, obviously aware that they were now conversing with the official Minister of the British Wizard Community and not just any associate, regardless that they had worked with the man in the Order... regardless that he was the boy who lived and ultimately finished Voldemort.

"I know," sighed Kingsley, unsurprised. "When the owls we sent yesterday still brought no response from any of you, I went to the Headmistress before breakfast today hoping to tap her influence on you. She lectured me about unjustly burdening you for more partaking, 'official' or 'non-official' ones. Staunchly supported your trio's non-response but she also—" Kingsley paused, seemingly reconsidering his words.

Harry, nonplussed, subconsciously scratched his scar at the statement, while Hermione just raised an eyebrow questioningly. Immediately, her fast mind had worked out that the Minister was weighing the consequence of repeating Minerva McGonagall's words to them, apparently without the woman's permission.

"But what Minister?" Ron posed somewhat impatiently.

Hermione could see Kingsley's internal debate; hesitant of a likely annoyance from the witch he intended to slightly betray in order to make them say yes. After a few more moments, the Minister broke his self-deliberation, and made use of Minerva McGonagall's influence on them, on the 'Golden Trio'.

"The Headmistress said you'll be there nonetheless. She said, 'Kingsley, much to their utmost dismay, they'll be there'— that's an exact quote, actually, after I expressed my exasperation at your non-answer."

Hermione and Harry could not give the Minister any response. Hermione for her part, refused to satisfy the Minister, but Ron actually turned to Harry with a different tangent of questions. "Huh, Harry, did you commit to the Headmistress? I thought she said she wouldn't urge our attendance whatsoever?"

"I didn't, Ron." Harry defensively replied. "And I told you, I didn't have to explain. I did not have to defend our 'no commitment' for this ceremony. She told me she completely understands and she promised to answer for us if we don't show up. Actually, she said— anyone unwisely questioning our non-attendance would find themselves thrown out of Hogwarts."

Kingsley chuckled a bit and confirmed that. "Indeed, the Headmistress had given me such 'stern warning' this morning not to be an imbecile. She even remarked that if Ms. Granger does not send dragon dung to any questioning idiot, a McGonagall would."

It amused both Harry and Ron. Their faces expressed how they'd imagined the Minister being told off by no less than the Headmistress. Plus, considering the older woman's wicked sense of humor, somehow they could all guess that the threat is half true. Hermione, on the other hand, ignored the reference to her. She frowned in contemplation about the witch's open support of their rejection, yet conflicting assurance of their assent...

Then there was the slipped fact that Harry had talked to her last night. 'What did they talk about? Is that why Harry is calling her Minerva?'

Hermione could hear Kingsley saying that the Headmistress did not even mention this morning that she talked to Harry last night. "Obviously more supportive of your decision than my objective," Kingsley said in an almost complaining tone. "But I did ask why she thinks or rather seems so sure that eventually the three of you would be at Hogwarts this afternoon. Well, she simply said, 'Kingsley, much to their utmost dismay, they'll be there because—" Kingsley actually paused, and strangely looked at her intently...

"—Because we are bloody Gryffindors." Hermione's voice cut through before the minister could resume his sentence... She repeated her supposition, "Much to our utmost dismay, we'll be there because we are bloody Gryffindors."

"Precisely!" exclaimed Kingsley. "Well, minus the word 'bloody'. Although I would wager my Gringotts account that it was a last second word cancellation by the Headmistress," The Minister laughingly narrated, thoroughly amused with it.

This time, her two best friends openly laughed at the Minister's quip. An image of the witch entered her mind doing exactly as guesstimated by Kingsley... The woman suspended the word 'bloody' at the last instant to not blemish Gryffindors to a Ravenclaw... Hermione slightly shook her head to expel the picture of Minerva McGonagall, and expelled as well the appearing smile on her lips.

When she looked up at Kingsley, she could clearly read the amusement in his eyes while he watched their reactions, particularly hers. An amusement that turned quickly into a thoughtful look, as they fixed on her and she heard him questioning her, "Was the Headmistress accurate, Hermione?"

But Harry interrupted, "Mione ifyoudontwanttodoit, let's not." he stammered in his haste, which was a good thing. Hermione was really close in letting out a frustrating and possibly disrespectful sigh directed at the older wizard, at their Minister... One who was not only losing his bid to gain their assent, but also brewing agitation.

Harry touched her arm gently and drew her to him. She silently communicated to him her exasperation and need to get away right now.

"Hermione, you know how we are. I mean, Ron and I don't want to do it if you tell us that you'd rather not— if you are not up for— you know, the role playing."

Hermione had understood Harry's message; they were truly going to proceed however she wanted them to. She felt appreciative at their thoughtfulness, and at the same time burdensome— of again having to make a decision affecting the three of them. Unthinkingly she pinched the bridge of her nose at the predicament, and again caught Kingsley's same thoughtful look at her. She was about to ask the wizard of it when Harry stole her full attention with his next words.

"I told Minerva that just like we've always done, we only do it if you say so."

She almost flinched at the implication. This furthered her conflicting inclination to take the easy road. She'd had enough of altruism lately, and her Gryffindor reservoir seemed to be depleted at the moment.

Did she care about the magical community at this point in her life? Of course, she did. However, for the first time since she found out that she belonged in it, the answer was not a resounding yes. It wasn't because she detested it, perhaps just the feeling of wanting to detach a bit... and it was nothing permanent. She was just... she was tired. Too tired.

But as always, her mind wouldn't let her be. It told her that she wasn't the only one who was tired. Loads of people were also tired. Harry was more tired than her, truthfully. Then there was the Headmistress who was perhaps more tired than any of them. And the woman kept moving, gluing them together— what she said earlier at the eulogy, 'the cluttered bricks of their world'. Bloody hell... The woman probably didn't pause to think about attending a damn ceremony; she was front and center wiring back their community.

'But I am no Minerva McGonagall!' The other side of Hermione's mind tossed the argument in anger. 'Would my absence be illustrative of my inadequacy? And would I drag Ron and Harry with me? And what would Minerva think of them…of me! Dammit. Dammit.'

"Mione..." Harry took hold of her hand, seeming to deduce the direction of her thoughts. "Not only does Minerva get it, her own words have been— you must not break your tradition! You see, I could tell that somehow she knows that following the troll incident in our first year, well... you have been the one calling the right shots."

"Harry, no... I..." Hermione began to protest but Harry pressed forward.

"You have... And when we didn't listen, it was always a disaster." Harry then lightly grinned and teased her, "Oh, you can't really deny how you would insist that we listen to you! Ron and I lost count of how much you've ordered us to do this, and to do that! And I promise that it's not a bad thing."

"I just wanted you to do your homework... and not get killed..." She let out a small smile as urged by Harry's teasing, "or worse, expelled..."

"Exactly." Harry laughed, but then quickly shifted into a more serious tone before he said, "That's why and how the three of us are still here, alive, and breathing... And I agree with Minerva that we must not change it."

"It's true, Mione." Ron supplemented, as he too reached for her other hand free of Harry's grasp. "You do know that Harry and I would have been killed in first year without you. I did tell him we wouldn't survive two days without you when he was concerned about taking you for the hunt." After a moment, unsurprisingly, he added with a smirk as he teased her, "Now, saving us from going insane from being so bossy with our ENDLESS study schedule is another thing!"

She threw a faint punch at Ron's arm in a protest, but the offence was carried with a grin to match the ones already adorning her two best friends' faces. She understood that they were making her feel less burdensome and conveying that she must not worry about how it would appear, that it mattered little whichever she decided; they would own the decision together.

Honestly, she was far from willing to play more of their Golden Trio roles. However, as she ran over the matter deeply in her brain and looked at Harry again, in his face was etched the conflicting feelings about wanting her to say no and at the same time say yes. He seemed to have guessed her want to be as far away from all of these. But on the other hand, damn him for his ever-present gallant nature. Ever true, he would answer the call of the Wizarding world even if it meant playing 'the boy who lived' once again.

She turned to Ron and she could see his transparent support; evidently he and Harry already had a discussion behind her back regarding this predicament, and agreed to let it play-out however she wanted.

She shifted her gaze to Kingsley. The Minister was watching her closely; he was sporting that look again. Hermione trampled down the rising panic inside her and pulled back her focus on how to deal with what was being asked of them— a Golden Trio portrayal, for an afternoon's show.

Screaming.

Hermione felt like screaming. Like yelling at the top of her lungs to be left alone with her misery. But her fucking Golden Brain would not let her ignore Kingsley and his rational pleading. No matter how gripping it was to just abandon decency. It would not let her neglect the world she was introduced to that one afternoon at age 11. A world literally opened to her by an impressive woman with impossible emerald eyes that brought her Hogwarts letter. That world…this world where she, Harry, Ron, and that witch...irrevocably belonged to.

'Was the Headmistress accurate Hermione?' Kingsley's bloody question rang inside her head involuntarily.

And bloody hell, there was no escaping the bloody precision from the bloody witch! It seemed to not matter that donning the 'Golden Trio' right now felt similar to skinning themselves alive with bare teeth– they would bloody do it. Because they were bloody Gryffindors!

Eventually, Hermione nodded once at Harry and her best friend communicated their accord to the Minister.

"Thank you very much. I'll see you all later," Kingsley breathed out his appreciation, and immediately left them.

The three of them returned to their previous direction towards departure. Harry and Hermione were steps behind Ron who went ahead to disapparate after a wave of goodbye and a 'See you later at Hogwarts' to Hermione. Before Harry could disapparate as well, Hermione stopped him momentarily for a follow-up.

"You have not answered my earlier question, Harry," she said, referring to how he was holding up concerning Snape's funeral.

"Yes I did. I told you I'm okay." Harry let out a smirk as he answered with just minor obfuscation.

"Okay, smart ass," she replied, grinning back at Harry. "Pardon my imprecision; you know you were saying that…" Hermione suddenly faltered with how to proceed, effectively vanishing the grin at the thoughts coursing in her.

While she was concerned how Harry was really faring given that they had just laid to rest Severus Snape, she highly doubted that she wanted to start a topic she knew she could not afford to bring on the table, let alone talk about, even to Harry who was obviously giving her a retreat door. So she re-addressed, "Okay Harry. I'll see you later then."

Harry did not miss her redirection. He understood that she had taken his offered temporary flight. Quite correctly, she knew he guessed that she had not truly come to terms about it herself. His best friend did know that she'd bring it up when she was ready and not by accidental blunder.

"Mione, are you sure you can do this later?

She blinked at the question and sees his anxious face. She knew he was now referring to her, their— 'Golden Trio' reprisal for the afternoon's ceremony.

"Mione, are you sure you can do this later?" A little louder this time, Harry repeated his question as he thought that she had missed it. "Minerva can… well, we really do have a ticket out, you know." He added peering his olive eyes into her brown ones.

She caught his change of sentence construction but decided to ignore it. "I know Harry, but we are Gryffindors." She addressed the matter in an obvious concluding manner.

"Yeah, and I know how much more Gryffindor you are than any Gryffindors right now."

"No. Not more than you Harry, or others who are—"

"No, Hermione. NO."

At Harry's passionate objection, she shut up. For a moment, both of them were seemingly at a loss on how to proceed, and before Hermione could backtrack on what they were discussing, Harry once again took her hand, and held her gaze, obviously conveying that what he wanted to tell her was of utmost gravity... Suddenly, Hermione felt the desire to end whatever discussion they were having, but Harry decided otherwise.

"People assumed that Godric Gryffindor meant courage is only about having the heart to go for one's desires at all cost. We both know, he equally meant 'your kind' of courage that—"

"Harry—"

"Godric Gryffindor knew YOUR kind of courage... That in the name of duty and honor, courage is the fortitude to shelf in the wants of one's heart. Sometimes, and ironically, even in the name of love."

To say that Hermione was startled into silence not only by Harry's perceptiveness, but his unusual disposition to voice them out eloquently is an understatement. Her heart stopped at the very close-to-home narrative. Harry's words were spoken with gentleness but with such strong conviction that they rattled Hermione much more than she was prepared for...

The declaration spoke volumes of how much Harry had grasped the ongoing turmoil in her heart. Unable and not ready to respond to it but sincerely grateful for his apparent concern, Hermione closed the little distance between them and gave her best friend a brief but a tight embrace, kissed his cheek, and mumbled, 'I'll see you later at Hogwarts'.

She stepped away from him and apparrated back to her parents' old house in London; seeking refuge for at least a few hours in her old bed– before putting on the "Golden Brain" title role once again.

.

.

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End of Chapter 1

Year 1998 – Severus Laid To Rest

I promise, Hermione is not just being overly dramatic for nothing… I hope you'll continue reading as the next few chapters as just to set-up THE STORY.