Chapter 5 – Reaching the Truth

Harry was torn. He was at the Ministry Ball helping to promote both the Minister and the charities he supported. He was also in the company of a very dear friend in Katie Bell and, all things considered, it was a very successful event after a very successful day in the Wizengamot.

The simple truth is that I don't want to be here because Hermione isn't here.

Katie had realised straight away that he wasn't going to be particularly good company this evening and she'd brushed his apology aside when he'd offered it. The fact was that their date was more in the way of a mutually beneficial arrangement. He got to attend the ball without having to worry about the reliability and trustworthiness of an unknown date and Katie…well, Katie had her own reasons for attending with a friend.

And Katie was a friend. A very dear and cherished friend and he felt like an utter bastard for allowing his poor mood to become obvious to her. It was testimony to their friendship that she understood without having to pry into his reasons. This was one of the reasons he'd arranged with her to attend this ball together in the first place.

But now as he stood on the periphery of the ballroom quietly sipping on a drink, he wondered how much longer he'd have to remain in order to "show face" for a sufficient length of time to satisfy those who considered his presence to be of importance. He'd been here for several hours, had mingled and conversed with people he despised and had generally had a miserable experience. His only consolation was that Katie had been able to mingle with friends of her own and was having a great time, so the evening wasn't a complete loss.

He watched as a Ministry Elf removed some empty glasses from a nearby table and was suddenly reminded of a conversation he'd had with Kreacher as he was getting ready earlier in the day. He'd noticed that Kreacher referred to Hermione as "Mistress" and had done so from the moment they had been introduced. He'd finally got round to asking the old elf why he used this form of address. The only other person he could remember receiving the same title from Kreacher was Sirius' mother and he didn't think Hermione deserved to be classed in the same category as that harridan.

You is my master, so Mistress Hermione be my mistress, Kreacher had replied, and he'd looked genuinely perplexed at the question.

When pressed further, the old elf had looked him square in the eye.

Kreacher can see what young master has yet to see. It be obvious to Kreacher. Master Harry will realise, in time. If he not be too dumb.

The thing was, he wasn't dumb. He knew exactly what Kreacher was talking about, he just didn't understand how the little bugger had come to so swiftly to the correct conclusion that he was utterly besotted with Hermione Granger.

And I am besotted with her.

It wasn't simply her intelligence, or her beauty, or her sense of humour, or her wit. It wasn't even that she didn't give a damn about his fame or his history. It was more that the whole of Hermione Granger was so much greater than the sum of her parts. To put it simply, she was a beautiful soul, and his world was greatly enhanced by her presence.

And that's why I'm standing here miserable! I need to see her!

He suddenly took a long pull on his drink before glancing at his watch. Ten-thirty. Late enough for me to leave without causing offence.

He placed his glass on a nearby table and headed towards Kingsley to let him know he was departing. He had no intention of letting his friend know that although he was leaving, he was not actually going home yet.

oOoOoOoOoOo

Hermione Granger was more than a little upset with Harry Potter and also with herself for being upset with Harry Potter. She knew she was being very unfair to him, but she could not help how she felt. What was irritating her about Harry Potter at that particular moment was that he was not here, with her. It was for this very reason that she knew she was being unfair.

After their initial meetings, Harry had visited every weekend for the past four weeks. Ostensibly, they had been working hard on their strategy for the Candlemas Wizengamot Session that had been such a resounding success for them, and while they had devoted a lot of their time to that aim, they had also enjoyed getting to know each other a little better each time they met.

We are becoming friends. Perhaps more.

So, it was with a degree of disappointment – not to mention irritation – that she found herself alone on a night when they should be celebrating their success together. She knew that she should be used to being alone on such nights, but since she'd met Harry, they'd spent virtually every weekend together and though it had only been a few weeks, she had grown used to his company.

She knew that Harry had made prior arrangements for the Ministry Ball and that he had made these arrangements before they'd even met for the first time. She also knew that Minister Shacklebolt used the event as a charity function to raise money for a number of causes close to Harry's heart, meaning that Harry was always going to be heavily involved and was certain to attend.

But if she was honest with herself, Harry attending the ball was not why she was irritated. She was irritated because Harry was attending the Ministry Candlemas Ball with a witch named Katie Bell. While she knew she had no claim to him as anything more than a friend – if they could even call themselves that yet – she could not help feeling jealous of this Katie Bell woman.

She sighed and poured herself another glass of wine. She didn't usually drink this much, nor did she usually stay up this late, but she was feeling particularly sorry for herself at the moment, not to mention a little lonely. She couldn't help but picture Harry in the arms of Katie Bell, dancing elegantly, laughing, and mingling with others and generally having a great time in the arms of another woman. She was being irrational, she knew, but she was also acutely aware that she was falling for Harry Potter. Falling for him hard.

She was also very afraid that he might be using her to achieve his political ends. She admonished herself for the thought, but her own lingering insecurities meant that it remained, hovering like a malevolent presence. Harry seemed an incredibly good person and she was beginning to trust him.

But I trusted Gabriel and look what he did to me.

The truth was, she didn't know if her heart could survive another such betrayal.

It was for that reason that she was currently surrounded by old copies of the Daily Prophet and Witch Weekly. After Harry had told her of his plans for the evening, she had, in a moment of weakness, decided to try and discover exactly what Harry Potter really meant to the British Wizarding public, just to see if she could better understand him. At first, she'd tried to find out everything she could about his achievements but soon realised that there was very little about that side of him that she did not already know from her previously held general knowledge of history and of the war.

So, she'd decided on a different approach. She'd visited the Ministry library and had obtained back copies of a number of editions of the more downmarket media publications and had spent her evening flicking through them for stories about Harry.

It wasn't something she was proud of, and she knew it was very much out of character for her, but she couldn't help it. The simple fact was that she was very attracted to Harry Potter, and not just because he was a very good-looking man.

Truth be told, Harry just seemed too good to be true. He was modest, considerate, polite, attentive, funny, intelligent…she could go on and on. Even if she didn't consider his courage in defeating Voldemort, Harry was still an extraordinary man, a catch for any witch.

And now that she had trawled through old newspapers and magazines, she began to understand why Harry was so careful, so shy, and so reticent. Harry Potter was the news in Magical Britain.

It's not that he was on the front page every day, although he did make the front page more than any other person. No, it wasn't just that. It was the fact that he appeared somewhere in every edition of every publication. It was insidious. It might be a small story or a short reference. It was a "What would Harry Potter think about this", or "What would Harry say?" or even "Look at what Harry Potter is doing now," approach to journalism. It reminded her of the treatment Diana, Princess of Wales, received from the muggle tabloids and history spoke of the tragedy that befell that poor woman. The Magical media were no better. They were intrusive, invasive, and had absolutely no regard for the man himself. She found herself with a much greater understanding of his bitterness when the waitress in the Magic Bean Café had all but propositioned him. That waitress wasn't interested in Harry; she only wanted the man who vanquished Voldemort.

More significantly, however, she'd also noticed the number of editions that had photographs of Harry attending a Ministry or other public function with an attractive witch on his arm. That it seemed to be a different witch in every photo gave an impression of Harry that she did not recognise; a side of him that she had not encountered in the few weeks she had known him. It made her feel more than a little uneasy.

Her musings were suddenly interrupted by a sharp rap on her front door. She glanced at her clock and realised that it was after eleven and she wondered who would be disturbing her at this time of night. Curious, she rose from her seat and pulled on her robe before picking up her wand and making her way downstairs, before tentatively approaching the door.

'Who is it?'

'It's me. Harry.'

Harry? Harry? What the hell is he doing here?

She shook herself out of her shock and quickly pulled back the iron bolts on the door before opening it to be met by the smiling face of Harry Potter. She noticed that he was wearing formal wizard's robes, bottle green in colour that fitted him like a glove and accentuated every line of his form. She stared agog at him for some time.

'Eh…Hermione? Is it OK for me to come in?' asked Harry, finally breaking the silence. 'I know it's late, so if it's too inconvenient, I can always come back another time.'

'No, no! It's quite alright, Harry,' she exclaimed, shaking herself out of her stupor. 'Come in! Come right in,' she added, pulling the door open wide and granting him access. She watched as he crossed the threshold and moved to the middle of the room, before stopping.

'Just go right on up the stairs,' she said without thinking. 'My living room is the first door on the right,' she added as she slid the bolts back into place. She heard him move on the stairs and it was at that moment her heart stopped in her chest.

The newspapers! Damn it! He'll see the newspapers!

She stopped and took a few deep breaths to gather herself before following him up the stairs. When she entered her living room, she watched as he took in his surroundings, a small frown forming on his face as he noticed the newspapers and magazines strewn across the floor and the coffee table, his own image glaring back at him. He glanced up at her arrival and she felt terrible at the hurt look on his face that he was clearly trying to hide.

'Can I offer you a drink? Some wine, perhaps?'

'That would be lovely, Hermione, thank you,' replied Harry, in a tone more formal that she'd ever heard him use.

'How was the ball?' she asked as she poured the wine. She hoped he could not see her hand trembling as she held the bottle.

He remained silent as she turned to offer him a glass, an offer he accepted with a raised eyebrow.

'It was an enjoyable enough night,' he finally replied. 'But I had showed my face for long enough. I wanted to see you,' he added softly, and she could tell he really wanted to ask her about the publications strewn around her room.

She flushed at his words and found herself feeling distinctly uncomfortable. However, she soon recovered herself and resolved to do the right thing.

'Please sit down, Harry. I think I owe you an explanation.' She watched as he carefully took a seat on her sofa, a very guarded look on his face. She sat down opposite him on the armchair and tried to gather her thoughts.

'It's not what you think, Harry. I'm not some mad stalker girl or anything.'

He nodded his acceptance at her words before taking a sip of wine. 'It's none of my business, Hermione. You don't owe me an explanation.'

'I think I do.' She paused before continuing. 'I've not known you for a very long time, but what I do know about you, I like very much. I felt we were starting to become good friends, you know?'

'I felt that too,' he agreed.

'It's just that…I've not really had a lot of friends. I've been badly hurt in the past by people who have taken advantage of me. They befriended me for their own ends. They didn't want me; they just wanted my brains, my knowledge.' She paused for a moment. 'When you told me you would be going out tonight with someone else after the Wizengamot session, I felt a bit abandoned. It felt as if you only wanted to know me because I was helping with the elves. That you didn't have any further use for me. That our relationship was purely professional and that's really why you wanted to start paying me.'

He made to speak but she raised her hand to stop him.

'Please let me finish, Harry. If I stop now, I won't get started again.' She watched him nod his agreement and sink back into his seat. 'It's not that I doubt you. In truth, it's more that I doubt me. It's just that when it comes to the real world, I am very, very naïve. I was badly hurt in Paris by someone I trusted; someone I cared for deeply. I have no people skills and I am rubbish at relationships.' She laughed bitterly. 'Sometimes I think I understand elves better than humans.' She wiped at a stray tear that leaked from her eye.

'I guess I just wanted to find out more about you; to see how the British public view you. I've never bought any of these publications in my life before now. I just wanted to see you through their eyes so I could try to understand what you had to put up with.'

'It's all a load of rubbish, you know,' he whispered.

'I know, Harry. I guess I'm just very insecure. I saw all of the stuff written about you. I'm already aware of your achievements. I guess my own experiences just set me off. You're possibly the best thing that's ever happened to me and I found myself wondering why someone like you wants to spend time with a nobody like me. None of this is your fault – you've done nothing wrong here. I know you hate your fame and I know one of the things you liked about me was that I wasn't interested in any of that. I'm still not, I promise. I just wanted to know, to try to understand you better. I'm really, really sorry, Harry. Please forgive me.' She put her head down and she really was crying now. Not only had she seemingly exposed herself as a mad fangirl, now she was also crying in front of her new friend. She heard movement and became aware that Harry had stood and had placed his wine glass on the table, and she cried even harder because he was going to leave her. He was going to walk out on her, and she was going to be alone again.

'Shhhhh. It's OK, Hermione. I understand. Really, I do,' he whispered and suddenly he was on his knees in front of her, his arms around her waist, gently stroking her back as he consoled her.

'First of all, I want to make it clear that you are not a "nobody." You are a brilliant, amazing woman and it actually hurts me to hear you talk yourself down like that.' He paused for a moment. 'The truth is I came here tonight because I was missing you. The ball was nice, but it was not the same without you there. I wish you had been there with me. Or that I was here with you.'

'Really?' she asked, surprised at his remark. 'What about Katie?'

'Katie?' He looked surprised for a moment, than realisation dawned. 'Ah, so that's what this is about,' he replied softly. 'Katie is a very dear friend of mine. She's known me since I was eleven years old and has never given a toss about the fact that I'm the "boy who lived." We were both on the Gryffindor Quidditch team and at first, her only concern was whether or not I was any good at catching the snitch. After that, she only ever saw me as Harry. Just as Harry. She's one of the few people I have in my life that sees me like that. She's brilliant. She's smart. She's beautiful. She's a chaser for the Montrose Magpies and she's going to get a call up for England soon. She's also really funny and she's great company.'

'So, you like her then?' she asked.

He shook his head. 'It's more than that. I love her. But not in the way you think. She's a very dear friend.' He smiled softly before continuing. 'But even if I did feel that way about her, I would have no chance. She prefers witches.'

'Really? So why…what…?'

'Why do we go on dates?'

She nodded and she heard Harry sigh. 'Do you mind if we sit on the couch?' he asked suddenly.

'Not at all,' she replied. She allowed herself to be guided to the sofa and he sat down next to her, holding her hand.

'I'm going to tell you some things in confidence, Hermione, but I trust you. Just hear me out and then you'll understand, I hope.'

She nodded her acquiescence and smiled at the trust he was placing in her.

'You will have seen from those publications exactly what sort of image I have in this country. It's not true, none of it. The public have set me up as some sort of hero and because they want their heroes to be successful, they have created this image of me as this wealthy playboy; someone who can have any witch he wants.' He sighed deeply. 'The fact is this image could not be further from the truth.'

He leaned forward and lifted his wineglass before taking a drink. 'The truth is, Hermione, that I have never been in a serious romantic relationship in my life. The closest I have come was when I was at Hogwarts. I dated two girls when I was there, and I've not seriously dated anyone since. Yes, I have been on dates, but I've never dated anyone more than once, apart from a few witches who are my friends.'

'Witches like Katie?'

'Yes. Katie is in a serious relationship with a witch called Daphne Greengrass. Katie is open about her sexuality, but Daphne is the daughter of a strict pureblood family and their views on homosexuality are…old-fashioned, to say the least. Their relationship is a secret, so we have a mutual arrangement. For public functions such as tonight, I sometimes take Katie as my date because it suits us both. We're comfortable in each other's company and there is no romantic baggage.' He suddenly let go of her hand and leaned over and picked up a few copies of the Daily Prophet and Witch Weekly that were lying close by, shuffling through them until he found the ones he wanted. She acutely felt the loss of his touch.

'That's Daphne there,' he said, pointing to a photograph of him with a quite stunningly beautiful woman on his arm. 'We go to formal occasions together too as it helps Daphne keep her family off her back.' He pointed to another edition, this time with a photo of himself accompanied by a pretty blond-haired witch. 'That's Luna Lovegood. She's probably my closest female friend but that's all there is between us. When you meet Luna, you'll understand. She's amazing but she told me years ago that we were not meant to be together as anything other than friends, so we weren't to waste time on any of that "romantic nonsense" as she called it.'

'So, she…she's a seer?'

He shook his head. 'No. She's Luna. Like I said, when you meet her, you'll understand.' He grabbed another paper and this time the front-page photo was of Harry with a pretty redhead draped all over him. It was hard to believe there was no romantic feelings involved in this picture.

'That's Ginny Weasley,' he said and there was a hint of distaste in his voice. 'She's the sister of my best mate Ron and we were close friends once. At least, I thought we were. I haven't accompanied her to an event in a long time because even though I have no romantic feelings for her, she's somewhat…enamoured with me. Despite knowing me for years, she's probably the biggest "fan-girl" I know. She's one of the girls I dated when I was at Hogwarts and that relationship is probably the most serious one I have been in. Not that it was ever that serious,' he added as an afterthought. 'It's now got to the point that I'm uncomfortable when I'm in her company, so I only see her if she's present when I'm visiting Ron's family these days.'

He picked up another paper, and in this one, he was photographed with probably the most beautiful witch Hermione had ever seen.

'That's Gabrielle Delacour. She's the younger sister of Ron's sister-in-law. She's eighteen years old and she's part Veela. As a result, she gets a lot of unwanted attention from a lot of wizards, so it really helps her for people to think that we have an on/off relationship because I do have a reputation as a bit of a hard case and that puts off a lot of wizards who think I'll kick their arse if they go near her. She had a massive crush on me when she was younger because I saved her life during the Tri-wizard tournament, but now she sees me like a big brother. She's like a little sister to me.'

Hermione nodded. 'I know the Delacours from my time at Beauxbatons. Not personally, but I know who they are,' she whispered. She was understanding the message that he was trying to convey. All of these women meant something to him, but not romantically.

'So, you see, Hermione, all of this is a lie. A front. It's not deliberate, it's just how the press and the public see me and nothing I say or do will convince them otherwise. The fact that I can use this to help friends of mine with their own personal circumstances is the only good thing about the situation. The downside is that I have achieved something of a reputation that I don't deserve. Only my very closest friends know the truth.' He turned to face her, licking his lips as he did so, and he suddenly seemed very unsure. Vulnerable.

'The reality is that I have never been in a serious relationship.' He looked embarrassed, but before she could say anything, he continued. 'The truth that the media would spontaneously combust over if they ever got their hands on it is that I have never actually been with a woman, if you know what I mean. I've never met one I like in the romantic sense that I trust enough to fall in love with. It's pathetic, really.'

'It is not! It's not pathetic at all!' she cried. 'I think it's lovely.' She hesitated. 'I'm the same. I…I haven't been with anyone either,' she added with a deep blush. 'So, there's nothing to be embarrassed about. You just haven't found the right person yet, that's all.'

A long silence followed her words and she found herself lost in emerald pools that seemed to peer into her soul. 'I think I might have now,' he finally replied, softly as he took her hand again and gave it a soft squeeze. She found herself frozen in his gaze, her heart pounding, yet unable to breathe.

'I'm not wanting to rush you or put pressure on you or make you feel uncomfortable,' he continued. 'If you just want friendship from me, I think I can do that. But the fact is, Hermione, I think I am falling for you. It's why I came here tonight. I missed you. I just wanted to be with you. Everything just feels right when I am with you and for once, I don't want to fight it because I trust you.'

She found herself crying again, but this time it was because of the feeling of pure joy that she was experiencing. 'I'm falling for you too, Harry. I know we've only known each other for a few weeks, but I'm falling for you too.'

He smiled at her words, his face lighting up as he did so, and she could feel a sense of awe as she realised the impact her words were having on him. 'Fair warning, though,' he finally replied. 'I am rubbish at relationships, so there's a good chance I'll make a complete fool of myself.'

'In that case, we'll make a fool of ourselves together,' she whispered as she leaned in for a kiss.

Their lips met softly, gently, but there was no awkwardness despite their inexperience. Instead, there was a sort of homecoming as each found comfort in the other. After a few moments, they broke apart, both smiling brilliantly.

'Does this mean we are dating?' he asked shyly.

She regarded him for a long moment, feeling a light within her that she thought she would never feel again.

'It does, Harry. Now be quiet and kiss me again,' she added, before losing herself once again in his embrace.