Today is gonna be the day
That they're gonna throw it back to you
She takes a deep breath before she goes up to the podium. She has the speech written out, not by her hand of course. The days when she had any input on any aspect of her life were over. The outfits are all carefully selected. She needs to come across as conservative but still in style. Her red dress goes past her knees. The neck is similar to a turtleneck, but there are no sleeves attached. The gold belt that separates the tight upper part of the dress and the flowing skirt on the bottom.
The symbolism of her house is an advantage. She is seen as brave. In the face of the public, she can't be broken down. She needs to stand tall. She does. Her detached eyes aren't easy to spot from the crowd. Someone would have to know the fire that used to reside there, to see the lack of it now. Out of all the things she lost in the war that fire has left her cold. There are no more times by the fireplace with her two best friends. They were both lost in the war. Two out of three and instead of letting her mourn, they made her a symbol. It didn't matter whether she wanted it or not.
Draco could see the lack of conviction in her words. She didn't believe them. She was just a puppet, a shadow of the firecracker he went to school with. The woman on the podium would have never slapped him in third year. That woman was lost. There were many in the crowd that day, but Draco knew he was the only one who saw how lost she was. Despite the number of people, Draco wished she would see him. But alas, it was not to be that day.
Draco got involved though. His parents left him a sizable amount of money, so he got involved in the rebuilding effort. Voldemort didn't care when he imposed his will on the wizarding world, and he left it as a shell of what it used to be. Just like Hermione. They immediately threw her into the thick of things. She was exactly what they needed. She was a muggleborn, a golden trio member, a war hero, and she didn't care anymore. She was perfect for them to shape and mold into a very pretty shell. One they could hold out to the people and ask them to support. But at the end of the day, when you turn the shell around you see the hole where her spirit used to be.
Eventually, Draco was popular enough with the wizarding world that he could see her. The real her, not one they put on display. He was exactly what they needed for her. A mate that would be seen as acceptable. He would never dare to interfere with her public image. But he figured if he got close enough, maybe behind closed doors he could save her.
By now you should've somehow
Realized what you gotta do
She was their puppet. At first, she tried to fight it. She sought out her remaining friends. Ginny and Neville and Luna, but the ministry didn't care for them.
Ginny wouldn't work as she was seen by the public as a hanger-on to her brother and lovestruck by Harry. They completely disregarded her. It didn't matter that Hermione actually cared for her friendship. It didn't matter that Ginny was possibly the only one who knew how she felt. Ginny and her could have worked through their grief together. They each lost a brother and a lover. It didn't matter that Harry and Hermione weren't related by blood, he was her brother. Hermione and Ron loved each other as Ginny and Harry loved each other. You would have to have been blind during their school days to miss it. Ginny chose a safe career as a professional quidditch player. The people could love her. She would have money. She would be left out of politics. The dumb jock stereotype hid her. She was safe.
Neville was never given the credit he deserved. He killed Nagini. But that faded from people's minds. He was seen as clumsy and irrelevant. Not by Hermione, of course, she respected him. But the public at large didn't. He got off easy. He was allowed to fill the position of Herbology professor. Professor Sprout was among the fortunate souls to not live through the war long. She died way back in the beginning. Neville would be seen as brave, but he would never have to deal with the underhanded tricks of politics. He would have money and a place to live. He was safe. He could one day become headmaster but that was as far as he could go.
