Hermione had hoped for a few more days to readjust to being home before the papers found out, but a sneaky photographer had snapped a photo of her leaving Harry's house. By the very next morning, the entire wizarding community had been informed in some way or another about Hermione being alive.

It takes until mid-afternoon for the owls to start flying in, carrying both letters and howlers. Rumors are circulating, and everyone wants an answer from her since their only other source is possibly a deranged criminal and has been missing just as long as Hermione has been.

Some want to know the truth, others, the howlers usually, are filled with the excited voices of young witches and wizards welcoming her home and hoping that she feels better even though they don't really know what was wrong with her.

It's nearing sunset when another howler arrives, and she automatically smiles, thinking it'll be from a joyous wizard or witch. When it bursts open though, a snarling voice fills the room.

"You're a lying, pathetic child," the voice, spits. The envelop floats in front of Hermione, jagged strips of paper forming teeth and projecting very well what she imagines the person speaking looks like. "Ron has never done a thing wrong in his life," they continue.

Hermione stumbles away, sucking in a sharp breath, and hits a wall. She's trapped with this vicious person's letter. Defeated by a talking piece of paper, how very true they are in calling her pathetic.

"You're a disgusting slob for insinuating that he's ever done anything to hurt you. Both you and the Malfoy's deserve everything that's happened. Especially that rotten death eater boy. The world is better without him, and I wish that it had been Ron that had done it. If you weren't such a hag and didn't want the spotlight so much, then Ron wouldn't have had to run from all the lies you told the world." The letter swoops closer and Hermione flinches back, shaking as the words stab through her. "I wish you would have died. It's what you deserve after the way you've ruined Ron's life."

It stops there, and the howler bursts into flames, showering her in a powdery ash. There is silence for a while as Hermione wonders if that had actually happened. Then she sinks to the floor and just sobs.

Everything that she had always feared would happen when the world found out what sort of person Ronald is had just happened in the space of two minutes. Every word she had feared, every phrase that had given her nightmares, all spit out by a single person. It rips her open, leaving her bare and exposed.

She gasps for air, feeling her chest constrict. Her vision blurs and narrows so that she can only really see what's directly around her. Distantly, she acknowledges that she knows exactly what is happening to her, but doesn't know what to do with the information. Her limbs feel too heavy to move and her thoughts feel like they're pushing through sludge in order to be understood.

Somewhere, there is a roar of sound, though she might be mistaking it for the thunder pounding in her ears. Hands touch her shoulder and she jerks away, wondering if it might be the person who sent the letter, or Ron, or someone who's broken into her home to take her life just like she deserved when Ron-

"Hermione, I need you to focus on me, can you do that?" Someone speaks, and it isn't like the letter. It's softer, gentler. She forces herself to look up, not entirely seeing, but hoping it'll translate into the person knowing that she can understand that they're speaking to her "Good, good, you're doing very well," they coo.

Their fingers run up and down her arms and Hermione lets herself feel the touch, lets it tell her that she is real, lets it take her out of the head-space she's fallen in to. Her chest loosens.

"Take a breath with me, okay?"

They take her hand, holding it tight enough that the shaking stops there, and press her palm against something solid. It takes her a moment to know what it is, and then she starts copying the rise and fall of the other person's chest. There is a few false starts where she can't quite match them, but they are patient. They don't yell at her, don't even speak again until she is breathing in and out slowly along with them.

"That's good, just keep breathing. You're doing very good. I'm so proud of you. You're so strong, Hermione. So much stronger than whatever upset you."

She skips a breath as her mind flits back to the howler, but a hand brushes against her cheek and slides around to cup the back of her neck.

"I'm sorry, that wasn't good of me.I won't talk about it. Just stay with me, okay?"

Hermione manages a nod. She blinks, lingering with her eyes closed for a while, before opening them again and looking at who had helped her. Ginny is sitting in front of her, balanced on her knees with Hermione's hand still pressed against her chest. She pulls a smile when she sees Hermione looking at her.

"Hey, Hermione, are you still with me?" The witch asks kindly.

"'M here," Hermione murmurs, letting her eyes droop now that Ginny knows she's better. She sags towards her friend and Ginny comes closer, letting Hermione rest her head on her shoulder. "Tired," she bemoans.

"I know," Ginny replies. "You feel drained, right?"

Hermione hums, losing the little energy she had built up. Her body feels heavy, but not in the way it had a while ago. Now it's heavy with the need to sleep, rather than feeling like her limbs are stuck in tar with her trying to pull free.

"Think you can move to the sofa? It'll feel better there, I promise."

She can't really make her brain function right at this moment, but Hermione figures she can move the few meager steps it will take to get to the sofa.

With several pauses, she and Ginny reach the sofa. Hermione sinks into it, curling tight around herself with Ginny seated beside her. The sun has long since set before either speaks again.

"How did you know what was wrong?" Hermione asks in a half-asleep state. She's still curled up, but her head has lolled onto Ginny's shoulder as her friend runs comforting fingers through her hair.

Ginny doesn't speak for a while, and Hermione starts to drift fully into sleep. "After...after the chamber of secrets and Tom Riddle and the diary-" she stops, swallows hard, steels her voice. "I learned very quickly what having a panic attack was like. I just did to you what I had always needed during the times when I couldn't even go a day without having to lock myself away to calm down."

Hermione doesn't ask anymore. She lays in the quiet, aching for Ginny, and for everyone else who's ever suffered that, and maybe a little bit for herself and the troubles she has to face now that the world is starting to invade every secret she's ever had.

The letters that come now go through Ginny, who reads each one herself. The bad ones, and even the ones that ask Hermione to give her story and explain, are burned without Hermione ever reading or hearing them. Only the good ones, the ones that speak with kindness, are kept for Hermione to read.

It hurts her pride, knowing that she can't be trusted to look at her own mail for fear of having another anxiety attack. It's better for her, though. She's self-aware enough to realize the harm that reading another letter like that one howler could do to her.

Two days following her appearance in the papers, Draco has returned to the living as well.

It's a story as big as Hermione's, and it certainly helps that it's connected to hers as well. Every reader wants to know what happened to him and why he had allowed them all to believe he had died. The Malfoy's don't come forward with the answers they so crave, only telling the Daily Prophet that he had done it for healing purposes.

Few are satisfied with this and, just as they had been doing with Hermione, they start fabricating their own tales as to why he had played dead for so long.

Unfortunately, it took not even a single day before people noticed the way Hermione and Draco had disappeared and reappeared so close together. Anyone with even half a brain can make the assumption that they had been together.

Draco and Hermione deny it. Though that haven't seen each other since the day they had breakfast together, their stories match well.

"I haven't seen him since the day we were attacked," she tells a reporter that both Harry and Ginny had approved of. The three of them had decided it best to deal with these accusations head-on. Besides, Hermione and Draco are the only ones who know the truth.

"He showed up at her house, where I was serving a punishment for a crime that is on record, if you must know what it is," Draco says to the gaggle of reporters all clamoring for an answer. His mother stands just behind him, head raised high and shoulders squared. The pair sneer down at the group. "I fell into a coma. I hadn't even known Miss Granger was alive until the article in the paper."

The press is insistent, though. Everyday they badger the Malfoy's, who've long been adjusted to this sort of behavior and know well what sort of wards to cast on the gates of the manor to keep them at bay. They try for Hermione, but one tense conversation with the savior of the wizarding world and the reporters flee with their tails between their legs. Only the ones that Harry knows won't be upsetting to Hermione are allowed through, and only one at a time.

With all the focus on them, Hermione finds that it's near impossible to make good on her promise of visiting Draco. Not that he can do anything about it on his side. They're entirely too aware that with the press so desperate for their stories to be confirmed, being seen together is not a good idea.

It drives them absolutely insane. Draco has to restrain himself from hexing the reporters who ask too many personal questions about her and even the typically reserved Hermione has found herself snapping at one of her approved reporters when they start accusing her of sleeping with Draco. It wears on them both until their frazzled and tired from having to handle so many questions.

Weeks pass by and, with time, the frenzy of their return dies away. Life, for the most part, returns to normal.

Draco and Hermione, relieved that no strangers seem to be terribly invested in their private lives, manage to actually see each other. They go out for coffee, take meandering walks through small muggle parks to avoid any lingering reporters, and even go out for a film or two. Neither had ever imagined that they would bond so much after being trapped in a home together, but they are getting on well. The strain of constantly being together is gone, and it's easier.

Hermione doesn't tell him about her anxiety attack, because she thinks hat isn't anything he need know about. It's bad enough her friends had coddled her and old nightmares are resurfacing again. Having Draco know about her deepest fear is not something she wants right now.

At the same time, Draco doesn't tell her about his own fear-induced nightmares that always feature Ronald coming for her and Draco never seeing her again. He can't bear to have her think that he believes she can't protect herself, because he knows she can. It's just that having her near puts him at ease more than being apart does. He tries very hard not to think about how insane that makes him sound and excuses it as anxiety that would follow any tragic event like they had been through.

They both have their secrets, and neither are willing to share yet, but it doesn't stop them from being as thick as thieves come the end of summer.

He fills the void that Ron had left in her life and she fills the emptiness he has from never truly having any friends that weren't out for some personal gain. They're as close as can be and everyone around them are pleased to see that both are happy, even if they don't entirely agree with the friendship.

Harry, being the leading arguer with Ginny silently agreeing, will often point out the fact that Draco had been nothing but awful to her during their school days.

"People change," she'll say every time, shrugging his concerns away.

One day, the last day he brings up the conversation, he cries, "somebody doesn't change that much, Hermione!"

Hermione levels a glare on him, drawing herself up. "I know better than most that someone can go from being one thing to the polar opposite in even less time than Draco did," she replies, low and warning of her rage. "You're my friend, Harry, just as much as Draco is. I'd like to have you at least respect my decision. I never ask for much, but after everything I've been through, I think I deserve to ask this one thing of you. Respect my decision and let me do something that makes me happy."

He takes a slow breath and looks very much like she'd just slapped him across the face. "He makes you happy then?"

She nods, a sharp jerk. "More happy than I've been since Ronald first..."Hermione hesitates, thinks about what Ginny had been insisting on, and then acknowledges her troubles. "Since Ronald first struck me." It doesn't fix her problems, but a weight feels lifted from her shoulders.

Acknowledging what he had done, admitting that he was at fault, helps her more than sharing the story had. It's the first time, this moment with Harry, that she feels like everything is going to be alright. It makes her smile, and Harry hugs her tight and whispers how proud he is of her.

"I'm sorry, 'mione. Whatever makes you happy, you can do it."

He hasn't bothered her since.

The rest of the Weasley family have their own outrage, but a few swift words from Molly and a thorough shouting at from Ginny silences them all.

The only one who doesn't have any sort of negative reaction is Narcissa. When Draco mentions it, in passing, a fierce look overtakes her face. "She left her entire life to avenge my son. I think I owe her a little more than just the approval of your friendship with her," she says, and the conversation isn't brought up again.

One day, towards the end of summer, Hermione receives a letter.

She's in the middle of reading a novel at her kitchen table, the early morning sun providing enough light for her to see with, and Draco is at the sink washing the dishes. He'd offered to clean up after their breakfast and Hermione had settled down with her book while he whistled a merry tune.

Both had started when the owl pecked at the window. Hermione drops her book and Draco lets a cup clink back down into the water. Still used to old habits, Hermione moves to open the window, but Draco gets there first and takes the envelop. He hands it to her before feeding the owl a treat and letting it swoop away.

"Who's it from?" He asks as he picks the cup back up and continues scrubbing it.

Hermione flips the letter over and looks at the seal, finding it a fondly familiar one. "Hogwarts," she laughs faintly. Breaking the seal, she unfolds the parchment inside and reads it over.

Dear Ms. Granger,

We are pleased to see that you chose to attend the reunion of the class of 1999! We have already counted in your requested dinner as well as marked you a designated table and seat. Once all of those who have chosen to come arrive then the dinner will take place, followed by dancing. You are free to mingle with your old peers whenever you'd like and are free to move about the school if you wish to stroll down memory lane. Please remember to arrive on time at seven in the evening so the others will not be kept waiting.

Until Monday, we wish you well!

Sincerely,

Professor McGonagall

Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

In her shock, the letter slips through her fingers. She slaps a hand to her forehead, mentally cursing herself. At least, she had assumed it was mentally. She isn't entirely sure as Draco turns around and arches his brow.

"What's wrong?" He dries his hands and comes closer. Hermione gestures to the letter and he picks it up, reading through it. A sharp bark of laughter bursts out. "Merlin, Hermione! You had be worried for a moment," he says with a relieved sigh, then goes back to the dishes.

"You were worried?" She shrieks. "Don't you have any idea what this means?" He only shrugs, not even turning to look her way now. His shoulders are still shaking, though, so she knows he's finding the situation humerus.

"No, I really don't," he says after a moment. "Please do tell me what's got you so worked up, though."

"Why didn't you remind me?" She explodes. "I remember telling you to remind me about this! Now I've gone and forgotten about it and I haven't got a thing to wear. Nothing that will fit the occasion, at least," she moans miserably, scrubbing a hand across her face. "I don't have the money to buy the kind of outfit needed for this. I've only just started back at work and I can't ask for my pay this early on. They'll be downright furious if-"

Draco interrupts with a small cough. "I think I can be of assistance," he declares, then thinks on it and amends his statement. "Rather, my mother can help." Hermione whips her head up to look at him, eyes wide and mouth hanging agape.

"I will not let you pay for my dress, and I definitely won't let your mother pay!" She manages after a stunned moment. "No, I'll just have to skip this one. Normally I wouldn't mind using an older dress, but this is on such notice and I'm not sure I have anything formal enough for the occasion.

He watches her for a moment, then comes to a decision that will benefit them both. "I've got a compromise," he announces.

Crossing her arms, Hermione snipes, "and what would that be?"

Draco nearly chuckles at her sudden business-like disposition, only managing not to by clearing his throat and copying her stance. "I'll have mother help you find a dress, because I'm rubbish at that, and she'll even pay for it, or I will. Makes no difference, " here, Hermione scowls, but he continues. "I'll have it done if you say that you'll go to the reunion with me.

She falters, her arms going limp and falling back to her side. They stand in silence, the words hanging heavy in the air. Draco considers retracting them, saying it's a joke, but he stops himself. He'll be damned if he doesn't get this one thing. It's a fair enough deal and nothing will be implied by them going as friends, and it's not like she has any actual feelings for him.

That's what he told himself over and over after their goodbye at his home the morning after he'd found her in Diagon Alley. She doesn't actually have feelings for him. She was responding in the way anyone might when someone is leaning down to kiss them. Hermione wasn't thinking. She was just reacting to his own body movements.

Weeks of rationalizing it this way to himself had ensured that he wouldn't soon forget it.

It's for this reason that he sees no issue with taking her to the reunion, since she will only view it as two friends going.