Disclaimer: The wonderful world of Harry Potter and the canon characters belong to J. K. Rowling, and I am only borrowing them to write for my and other people's enjoyment, without any intention of profiting from it. I thank this talented lady for blessing us with such a rich ground to build up our creativity on!

Crumpled issues of The Daily Prophet were haphazardly scattered atop a worn-down couch, spilled ink blots and ornate handwriting littering the edge of the newspaper pages. The written notes looked detailed, yet there was a decidedly angry quality about them as the tip of the quill left its furious mark upon the surface of the paper.

The headlines sang praises to Harry Potter and his loyal companions – Ginevra and Ronald Weasley – for their outstanding courage, saving the wizarding world from the Dark Lord Voldemort's evil reign.

The Boy-Who-Conquered and The-Weasleys-Who-Steadfastly-Stood-By-His-Side-Through-It-All were basking in the glory of their victory, one interview at a time.

"Your courage and bravery in the face of danger is legendary, Mr. Potter," Rita Skeeter gushed as her ever-busy Quick-Quotes Quill did her job for her, while she fawned over the bespectacled wizard.

"Thank you, Miss Skeeter," Harry replied smoothly, a lopsided smirk visible on the photograph printed with the article. "You humble me."

Rita blushed to the tip of her ears and smiled a coy smile at her hero. "So young and so polite. How wonderful. It just speaks of how well-mannered our saviour is, which is no surprise at all, of course," she hummed. "Now, Mr. Potter, would you mind answering a few questions that our ever-loyal readers have forwarded to us?"

"Gladly."

"How wonderful," Rita smiled smugly like a cat that ate the canary. "Everyone knows of your amazing victory over He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and the excruciating trials you've undergone to finally defeat the dark wizard who just did not want to die. Did you have help accomplishing this incredible feat?"

Harry nodded, wistful adoration reflecting in his brilliant emerald orbs. "I had the steadfast support of the Weasley family – Ron and Ginny especially. They always stuck by my side, disregarding the danger that unfortunately followed everywhere I went. I couldn't have asked for better, or more loyal friends. I also had the guidance of our society's most renown sorcerer – Albus Dumbledore. He took me under his wing and nudged me along the right path with a gentle hand," he explained.

"It's wonderful to have such loyal friends and supporters, Mr. Potter," Rita remarked, and her lips curled into a somewhat malevolent smile. "Now, I couldn't help but notice that there was no mention of the notorious muggleborn witch Miss Hermione Granger, who boasts being The-Brightest-Witch-Of-Her-Age, as if," she snorted with distaste. "Why is it then that such a bright-minded individual neglected you and your quest?"

Harry's confident facade cracked for a moment before he managed to school his features into a semblance of order. "I do not begrudge Miss Granger her cowardice. She's a brilliant academic mind, but that unfortunately does not translate to the practical application of her magic. It would have been unfortunate to have her presence hinder us on the battlefield, knowing how defenseless she really is," his seemingly concerned voice trailed off. "Miss Granger helped us with research, but when it came to doing some real magic, it was up to me, Ron, and Ginny to do what needed to be done."

"And you did it wonderfully," Rita complimented. "At least Miss Granger was of some use to your cause. It's no wonder that she is so far from being your magical equal, Mr. Potter, such unfortunate parentage," she sighed heavily. "It's practically unprecedented that a muggleborn witch or wizard has any real magical prowess to them without having at least a distant magical relation in their ancestry."

Harry nodded solemnly. "You are of course correct, Miss Skeeter. As much as I support muggleborn witches and wizards being part of our society, they simply cannot measure up to the truly magical family lines," he sighed. "It's common knowledge that my own mother grew up in the muggle world, however, she had potent magic in her ancestry."

Skeeter's beady eyes sparkled with greed as she spoke,"Oh? Do tell, Mr. Potter," she purred.

Harry leaned closer to the reporter and whispered as if he was sharing a well-guarded secret with the witch, "My mother was distantly related to no other than Rowena Ravenclaw herself," he proudly shared.

Rita gasped. "How illustrious, no wonder you have such rich magical heritage, Mr Potter."

"That's not all," he softly said. "My father was a direct descendant of Godric Gryffindor," he grinned.

"Sweet Merlin," Skeeter gaped. "No wonder you are so magically inclined and have such history with the fabled magical blade Godric Gryffindor wielded in his time, Mr. Potter," she smiled and her eyes got a calculating gleam in them. "Are you also related to Merlin by any chance?"

Harry laughed. "No, I'm afraid not, Miss Skeeter, but my lineage is nothing to frown upon."

"Of course, of course," Rita nodded, disappointed. "Let's discuss something else. Our dear readers are very curious to know if there is any truth in the rumours surrounding you and a certain Miss Weasley..." her sickly sweet voice trailed off.

The interview went on for three more pages detailing Harry Potter's up and coming wedding, and how happy the Weasleys were welcoming him into their family. Magical Britain was jubilant that their saviour was getting his happily ever after, and everything and everyone else who did not share the limelight with him faded into obscurity.

A crackling electric current was buzzing in the air as a slender hand lifted the most recent issue of the Prophet, the pale fingers grasping at the paper sharply. There was a long tense pause before the newspaper was lit alight with blue tinted fire.

Hermione Granger's honey coloured eyes glowed a pale blue as her magic reacted to the headline proclaiming Ginevra Molly Weasley as The-True-Brightest-Witch-Of-Their-Age. Bluebell flames danced across the brunette witch's fingertips as her wild curls rose into the air like wildflowers swaying in the wind.

"It's beautiful to see your power flare up, love," a melodic voice chimed as a pair of delicate arms encircled the petite witch's trim waist.

Hermione's magic sang as her girlfriend was pressed against her back. "Luna," she softly said, her eyes never leaving the offending article, yet she relaxed into the familiar warmth of her lover. "Apparently, Ginny's the bright shining hope and example to witches all over the country now. Imagine that," she snorted.

Luna chuckled. "You know the public is like mindless sheeple, my love," she explained. "They follow the loudest voice with the most influence and money to spread, without a desire to think it through."

"I know," Hermione sighed. "The Weasleys were always as fickle as Veela allure, but I never imagined that Harry would turn his back on me. I felt beyond betrayed when he left me behind to bleed out on the battlefield after dueling Bellatrix Lestrange to death – after she became enraged seeing her Master's demise and desired to take it out on him," she said with anger and sorrow gleaming in her intelligent eyes. "Naturally, Molly Weasley just had to take credit for that..."

Luna wisely kept her own counsel about how she was always aware that Potter's loyalty towards Weasley would eventually edge Hermione out completely, once she no longer proved useful to him – which was exactly what happened. It would not do to infuriate her witch any further.

"You want revenge," she said.

Hermione smiled as she watched the smug look on photograph Ginny burn off her face. "Yes, I do," she confirmed. "I want to ruin them. Do you think me callous for wishing to exact payback on them?"

Luna tightened her embrace and leaned down to rest her chin against Hermione's shoulder. "If you are, then so am I, my love," she whispered quietly. "I want them to burn for what they've done to you. I don't want to think about what might have happened if Neville and I did not find you," her voice quivered.

Hermione waved her hand and the blue flames ceased their assault on the newspaper. She closed her eyes to center herself, and spun around in her lover's arms to face her. "I know you meant that figuratively, my sweet, but that," she whispered against the taller witch's soft lips before they shared a small kiss,"...could be arranged."

The blonde witch laughed. "I'm not ruling anything out, but we should probably start small," she hummed.

Hermione smirked. "Shouldn't the voice of reason in this relationship be me?" she teased her free-spirited witch.

Luna took mock-offense to that question and gasped. "I can be reasonable," she said with a straight face that did not last long as they both broke out in laughter. "Sometimes," she corrected herself with a grin.

"Never change, Lu," Hermione smiled fondly, and leaned up to brush her lips against her lover's. "I love you," she whispered breathlessly as they broke the tender kiss.

Luna's breath had caught in her throat at her girlfriend's heartfelt confession, her heartbeats quickening and her pulse racing like it did the first time the brunette told her that she loved her. She drew the petite witch snug against her, dipping her fingertips into her incredibly soft curls as she descended upon her lips, savoring the intoxicating taste of her beloved.

Hermione quivered in her arms and reciprocated just as passionately before breaking away for some much needed oxygen. Luna pressed her forehead against hers, tenderly caressing her cheek. "I love you too, my heart," she softly said. "I would follow you to the end of the Earth and watch everyone else burn before our eyes if that meant I get to keep you for eternity."

Hermione's eyes sparkled with emotion before gleaming with a bit of mischief. "Are you becoming a blossoming pyromaniac, my love?" she asked with a teasing grin. "This is the second time you mention people burning under the same hour."

Luna chuckled with mirth. "Well, when one's beautiful girlfriend has the affinity for Fire Magic, there's a certain kind of allure in flames."

"Just as well your element is the Water – calming me with a touch or a word is very much your forte," Hermione said with a soft smile. "There is no one else who can tame my temper as effectively as you always do."

"And there is no one else who could call forth so much righteous fire in me like you do," the blonde witch chuckled. "Not even Daddy ever inspired my temper to flare like it does when I'm angry on your behalf."

Hermione tenderly ran her fingertips along the line of Luna's jaw. "You're my balance, and I thank the stars every single day for leading me to you," she whispered with a heartfelt voice.

Luna's moonlight coloured gaze softened as she stared into the other girl's eyes. "Who would've thought that anti-Divination Hermione Granger would put her faith into the stars," she chuckled softly.

"Well, they proved themselves worthy of such gift when they answered a lonely girl's prayers to find a true friend who'd see her for herself without judgment and expectation," Hermione replied with a smile.

"They answered both our prayers, Mimi," said Luna.

The brunette witch nodded and her expression hardened. "Potter and the Weasleys cannot be allowed to get away with their lies and deceit," she said venomously.

Luna nodded grimly. "We might have to work with people that we don't have the best history with..."

"It cannot be helped," Hermione said. "We need resources, and we need allies. We need people who are as disillusioned about this rotten lot as we are."

Luna sighed and peered at her beloved from under her impossibly long eyelashes. "You might not like it, but we need the Malfoys. Lucius Malfoy might have done unspeakable things, but despite his alignment with Riddle, he has the ability to rise from the ashes like a phoenix and adapt to the current status quo."

Hermione closed her eyes briefly and took a deep breath. She squared her shoulders and when she opened her eyes, she looked determined to follow through, no matter what lied ahead. "I agree. I might not like the Malfoys or what they represent, but they are filthy rich, and even now, they are swimming in connections because of it," she scowled. "I'm not thrilled about what needs to be done, because I have absolutely no problem with my non-magical ancestry, but we need to do an Inheritance Test at Gringotts to see if I actually do have magical blood somewhere in my family line. It would be simply easier to court the Malfoys to our cause if I'm not a filthy mudblood in their eyes," she snorted.

"Well, you know that I don't care about your origins, love," Luna murmured, and squeezed Hermione's hand. "Unfortunately, we know that many political factions do. Let's take this one step at a time, however. We only need to plan how to approach your heritage if the test proves hopeless."

"True that," Hermione said thoughtfully. "We should also look into your ancestry to see if we can benefit from connections you and your family might not be aware of. And then we can discuss how to misappropriate the Hallows from Harry..."

Luna had a mad gleam in her eyes as she pounced on Hermione, dragging her into their bedroom to have her wicked way with her. Whenever her girlfriend got especially devious, Luna Lovegood was reduced to a writhing, quivering ball of desire, and Hermione had no qualms about taking advantage of such situations.

There would always be time for more planning later, after all.

A/N: Another idea that had been swirling around in my mind recently.

A bit of warning: there is a very real possibility that Hermione and Luna will go Dark for this story. I am not one hundred percent sure of this, but it looks that way, at least.

Our beautiful witches also might eventually welcome a wizard into their relationship, however they are very much in love, and if that bothers you in any way, shape, or form, this might not be the right story for you.

Nevertheless, thank you for giving this chapter a chance, I appreciate it. :)

For those of you who are waiting for updates on certain other stories, do not despair, they're coming just as soon as I can get to rewriting some things.