I do not own Harry Potter or any of the other characters mentioned.

Thanks to my beta kabg01 for helping me with a few sticky bits

The shimmering cloth fluttered to the ground to reveal a pale stone column. At the top there were three figures – Harry, Ron and Hermine, wands raised to meet in a central point. However, the main focus of the monument was the column itself. Into it were carved the faces of everyone who had died in final battle at Hogwarts against Lord Voldemort. Hermione could see the kindly face of her former defence against the darks arts professor and friend, Remus Lupin, smiling down from his position next to his wife. Further down, there was Fred Weasley. Already she could see the differences between him and George - where time had continued to work on the living twin. In another five years the difference would be striking. Despite her feelings of reluctance at being on a statue, it was beautiful, she had to concede.

Her, Harry and Ron were then presented with awards for services to the school but the audience's eyes were all drawn to the statue throughout.

After the applause died down, people started to drift out of their seats and into groups, talking, walking the grounds or inspecting the statue. Harry, Hermione and Ron were pulled to the base of the statue by a reporter from the Prophet that Hermione didn't recognise to take photos of them with the monument.

"It's a nice statue and all," muttered Ron, gazing at Fred's face, "just seems a shame that if you didn't die, you don't get to be on it," Hermione tried not to look surprised at the uncharacteristic thoughtfulness of his statement. "I mean, George was just as brave as Fred. Still, I suppose it would have to be a pretty big statue to fit everyone on it," he finished lamely, as though he had just remembered that he wasn't supposed to be talking to Hermione. She wasn't sure if it was being back in the grounds of Hogwarts, where they had shared their childhoods, their first kiss, that made this temporary truce seem possible, or just the need to keep up the public pretence.

"Can I have one of just the newly betrothed couple?" asked the photographer, keen to get the snaps that the wizarding world was waiting for. Harry, just glad to be out of the spotlight for a moment, dived away from them like he had seen the snitch.

"I'm really going to get that git for this," Ron grimaced after his retreating form, as he threw his arm around Hermione's shoulder.

"Be sure to give him a punch from me," she replied as she placed her hand on his chest, smiling to the camera. Whatever they felt for each other, they knew the parts they had to play here. They had taken similar poses countless times after the war for the cameras and they fell back into their practiced roles easily. Plus having Harry to be annoyed at seemed to unite them in something, no matter what else they disagreed on.

It was then that she saw Malfoy, standing next to Theo Nott. Both were dressed head to toe in black – seemingly unable to stop playing the villains, even though they had both very publicly distanced themselves from the dark side and been found innocent of any crimes by the Wizengamot. They had a clear area like an impervious around them and no one seemed like they wanted to look at them. Draco's eyes met hers, then flicked pointedly to her hand. She dropped it from Ron but it was too late; with a sneer, Malfoy turned away.

"How about a kiss?" the photographer asked tentatively, perhaps suspecting he was pushing his luck. Hermione froze.

"I don't think you're my type mate," Ron's words were lighthearted but his tone had an undercurrent that stopped the photographer asking again.

"I've got to go," Hermione said, and pushed hurriedly through the crowds after Malfoy.

When she found him, he was by the lake, his back to everyone else. She drew next to him, maintaining a safe distance that would not raise suspicions to onlookers.

"Where's Theo?" she asked, unsure of where else to start.

"He's gone chasing after that crazy blonde Lovegood girl – he's always had a thing for her,"

Hermione bit back the reminder that Luna had spent several months as a guest of the Malfoy's. At least that was how Luna always described it.

"Where's Weaselbee?"

"I don't know. Look, you know it's all just for the cameras, me and Ron,"

"It's just hard, being looked at like dragon dung on someone's shoe all afternoon and then seeing you fawning all over him,"

"I thought Malfoys didn't do jealousy?" Hermione repeated his own words back to him.

"I'm not jealous…I just….I just don't like to see it,"

"It's not like I've got a lot of choice. I'm not exactly fighting off pureblood wizards who are wanting to marry me" the thing that she had wanted to say to him was bubbling up inside her again and out of her mouth before she could stop it, "it's not like you…." She bit it back.

Draco looked shrewdly at her, "Not like I what?"

"If the answer doesn't immediately present itself to you, then you needn't concern yourself overly with the question," Hermione mumbled, eyes downcast.

"Oh come on, what kind of Ravenclaw shit is that?" Draco demanded, "not like I what?"

"Shh, people are looking. I'm sorry, this isn't the place. I shouldn't have said anything. I'll see you later,"

Before Draco could respond, Hermione strode efficiently away from him.

She slipped through the front door of the castle unnoticed and found herself an empty classroom to hide in. Perhaps this could be her thing, she mused. Hermione - the girl who hides in classrooms at parties. Gloomily she conjured up the little yellow birds that she was reminded so forcibly of. She didn't know why she was so angry with Draco, whether it was his petty jealousy overshadowing such a special day for her, or his complete failure to consider that there could ever be any serious future for them.

The birds had barely completed one twittering lap of the classroom when a click at the door let her know that she wasn't alone,

"Are you ok – woah, not those things again. I've still got scars from last time!" Ron backed up against the door.

Hermione flicked her wand and the birds vanished into an explosion of yellow feathers that floated softly to the ground. The sudden comprehension that it wasn't Ron who was the target of her ire for the first time in years felt like an electric shock.

"What are you doing here?" she sniffed.

"After you ran off from the photographer…I just wanted to check you were alright. I thought he might have upset you, you know, asking us to…" he trailed off, seemingly reluctant to even say the word.

"Do you think it's being back here?" she asked, as he clambered onto the desk to sit beside her, "why we aren't cursing chunks out of each other?"

"Maybe," Ron admitted, "or maybe it's the betrothal spell, or perhaps just hearing how much bother we've been causing everyone. I – I don't want to be angry with you any more,"

"Me neither," she admitted, realising for the first time that she missed her friend.

"We spent so many years fighting Voldemort with Harry then when that was all gone, it was like we needed someone new to fight and we picked each other,"

"It wasn't always like that. We had some good times together. The best. For a couple of years I thought, well…"

"…That that was it?" Ron finished for her in sad agreement, "I certainly didn't ever picture my life without you in it one way or another,"

"Do you think we can be friends again someday?" Hermione gazed at the chalkboard, which had the remains of what she recognised as a second year charms assignment on it.

"Friends?...I don't know,"

She turned to look at him and his eyes glittered with something that made her stomach flip over. He leaned towards her slowly, his eyes locked on hers.

Her heart rate increased, she was sure he could hear it. Was he going to try and kiss her? Surely he wouldn't dare! Time seemed to stand still for a moment and she felt like she had been hit with a Petrificus Totalus. He was still edging closer as Hermione tried to remember how to breathe. What the hell was he doing, she wondered, as she tried to remember the most painful jinxes that she wouldn't leave a mark. A small part of her brain tried to alert her to the fact that she was just sitting and waiting for him to try and kiss her instead of trying to stop him. He reached up gently, his hand in her hair,

"Got it," he smiled, leaning back.

"What?"

"You er, you had a feather in your hair," he held it up as evidence, looking uncertainly between her and the offending plume.

"Oh…thank you. But I think we ought to be getting back now, don't you?" she was brisk now, businesslike. She hadn't wanted Ron to kiss her. Of course she hadn't. Now he was back at a safe distance from her she was sure of it. Still, the fact that she had presumes he was going to embarrassed her horribly. For a moment Ron looked at her suspiciously, "People will be wondering where we are," and she hurried out the room before he could say anything.

As soon as they were outside and he had been distracted by Neville wanting to show him something, she made her way to the specially arranged apparition points as quickly as she could. It had been a lovely day, drama regarding her love life excepting, but she was tired and wanted to get away from the crowds. Only Harry saw her go, raising his hand in farewell and tilting his head in question. She smiled at him "I'm fine" then mimed a yawn to indicate she was just tired. He smiled and nodded and then she was gone.

oOoOoOo

Hermione looked up from her book with her heart in her mouth at the crack that echoed around her living room, causing an aging Crookshanks to leap heavily from her lap and totter off into the garden. Ron was standing in front of her, looking slightly confused,

"Huh? Didn't think that would work! Hermione do you not have wards over this place?"

"What in Merlin's name are you doing here?" She marked her page out of habit, even though she had been sitting staring blankly at the same page for the last twenty minutes, her mind on the very person before her. It had been the Prophet that had done it – their photos were all over its pages. The photo version of herself and Ron had been hugging and waving to her, smiling widely as if to show her how happy they were. She had incendioed the whole paper.

"Seriously? I just apparated right in," he had his wand out now, testing the magic

"Of course I've got wards! I'm not an idiot,"

Hermione was on her feet now, hands on her hips, yet Ron still towered over her. He almost, but not quite, managed to stifle his grin, his teeth flashing white and even.

"Shoe's on the other foot for a change,"

"I – I don't think you're an idiot Ron," Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration, "So can we just drop all of these jibes about it please,"

She didn't know why she was bothering. He didn't even seem to be listening any more, preferring to inspect the magical protection over her home. Her mouth dropped open at the sight of him clambering onto her sofa to extend his wand into the corner of the room. She took advantage his back being turned to run her hands over her hair and try and tame it slightly.

"You said I was stupid," he mumbled, his wand now between his teeth as he rifled through the rats nest of wires on the back of her television.

"I said what you were doing was stupid. There's a difference," Hermione huffed grudgingly, "and you still haven't answered my question – what are you doing here? And what are you doing to my aspidistra?" Ron was levitating the only pot plant she had managed to keep alive, and was peering underneath it. Hermione snatched it out of the air and hugged it to herself.

"I came to bring you this," He pulled the Award for Services to Hogwarts out from under his robes, "You left it behind yesterday. I was just going to leave it on your doorstep. I didn't think I'd be able to apparate right inside,"

"Oh, thank you. That was very…thoughtful," Hermione forced the words out. She wasn't sure whether she was disappointed that he had a valid reason so she couldn't sling him out or that he hadn't just wanted to see her, hadn't been thinking of her like she had of him. Ron was frowning, gazing around the room. He seemed to have finished his inspection.

"I'm confused, you seem to have some level of warding up but I was able to apparate right in. I can take a look at it if you like. I've seen major security breaches caused by patchy wards,"

"My wards are fine Ronald, you saw me cast them every day for months! I know how to put up a protective charm! I just didn't ward you out," She looked down and inspected her plant to hide the pinking of her cheeks.

"Oh – Oh!" Ron sounded surprised but she didn't dare look at him. He blustered slightly, trying to cover their communal embarrassment, launching into what Hermione suspected was his standard sales pitch, "Well, er, I could still beef up some of your spells if you like. We do a nice line in miniature foe glasses for by the front door so you can check it's safe if someone knocks. That's good for muggle intruders as well as wizards. I think I've got one somewhere, I could do install it now for you," he rifled through his pockets.

"Oh no, I don't think –"

"Free of charge," he smiled crookedly at her, "special discount for my betrothed,"

"Don't call me that!"

"Takes some getting used to, doesn't it. Even when I saw the photos from the memorial in the Prophet this morning, it took me a minute to work out who they were talking about," he didn't wait for her reply but headed to the front door, the foe glass finally located. Hermione followed, carrying the plant. She wanted to protest, felt that because Ron thought it was a good idea, it was her duty to disagree, but honestly, she couldn't find fault in it. It was very small and unobtrusive, she noted, as Ron held it up to the door, his wand pointing to each corner in turn to affix it to the wood. He was good at this, she had to admit to herself. It suited him.

"It wasn't that I wanted you to come in or anything. It would have been irresponsible of me to ward you out. It's just, you never know when there might be an emergency. Or something," she finished lamely.

"S'alright, you don't have to explain," Ron dusted his hands together, "all done. Now, do you want me to show you how it works?"

"I know how a foe glass works Ronald!" she stepped in front of him, her tone reminding her unflatteringly of being eleven years old and lecturing him on the correct way to pronounce Leviosa.

"Course you do," he smiled down at her ruefully, only the china pot and a handful of spikey green leaves between them. Hermione could feel her heart racing.

"I'd better be going then, I wouldn't want to bother you or your aspidistra any longer," he looked pointedly down at the plant, "See you around," and with that casual farewell, he opened the front door and made to leave the muggle way.

"Wait," she grabbed him by the forearm as he pulled the door closed behind him. He said nothing, just raised an eyebrow at her. Her toes were screwed up in her socks at discomfort over what she was about to say. The thing she liked to admit least in the world, probably to the person she would least like to say it to,

"I was wrong…. About you leaving the Auror Department, I mean. It was the right decision,"

"I know," he replied simply, and made for the door again. He was almost out, when he stopped again. His smile was tender this time. There was no malice there, none of the point scoring that marred so many of their conversations, "but thank you for telling me, it can't have been easy," and with that, finally, he left.

Hermione sank down against the door, her back sliding over the smooth wood, "you have no idea," she muttered.