Potentiality Perilous

Summary: Hermione Granger has everything she needs: a wonderful fiancé, wonderful friends and family that have been with her through everything, and a job at an upstanding newspaper…but all of that changes whenever she takes a dangerous assignment to investigate a murderous case that could cost her more then a job…it could cost her everything.

Disclaimer: Ha, I don't own Harry Potter.

Chapter One

My fingers flew quickly on the keyboard as I watched my words form before me on the screen. I blocked all other thoughts from my mind, and focused directly on the story:

Alena Styles; greatest witch of her age?

By Hermione Granger

Thirteen year old Alena Styles has quickly become the most talked-about witch of her age. Completing every unforgivable curse (on animals, of course), concocting some of the most difficult potions available, and even creating several charms that wizards around the globe are now practicing, we have to wonder how this half muggle witch accomplished it all!

"We've known she was special, since the beginning," said mother Sabrina Styles, "and not special like every parent thinks of their child. She was levitating herself at the age of two whenever she got cranky. If she didn't like her baby food it would mysteriously disappear as soon as we sat it down in front of her. When she was five she wanted to go to the park so badly, but it was raining, so we couldn't…but then I walked back into her bedroom, and she had brought the park to her."

"Being a non-magical parent isn't easy," said father Allen Styles. "I'll admit, I've seen the things she can accomplish, and I'm told she can run circles around most eighty year old wizards. But she's never been that to me; she'll always just be my little Alena."

Through all of her accomplishments, Alena is strangely humble and doesn't consider herself a celebrity. When asked the person she wants to meet the most, she replies, "Harry Potter!"

Alena will appear in Diagon Alley September 23 to greet the crowds and sign autographs. She will soon be hosting her own magazine called Alena's Advice, about new spells and charms for all ages.

I sighed, grateful that I was finally done with that story I had been avoiding for days. I had met Alena personally about a week ago, and she was one of the least enjoyable people I had ever met.

I proofread my article and sent it to the printers. With magic, the issues of Wizard's Weekly take only seconds to print. I checked the clock beside me, and read seven fifteen.

"Oh no, I'm late!" I hissed, standing from my chair quickly and grabbing my page. I knew I should've written that days ago, of course, and it was so unlike me to procrastinate.

I walked stiffly out of my office, cursing myself for wearing heels today. I should never let Ginny influence my work attire.

"Oi! Hermione!"

I spun around quickly in the messy, crowded main newspaper room. Interns and reporters were scattered in clumps, some laughing while drinking coffee and some hunched over one computer screen, all trying to read what the screen reflected.

"Yes, James?" I asked impatiently, while staring at my watch. Seven nineteen.

"Jasper wants you."

I moaned loudly as soon as the words escaped his mouth.

"Do you know what it's about?" I said, while hobbling to his desk with my aching feet. "I kind of have some plans-"

"Oh, with Ron?" he said, with a devious grin. James is either gay, or an eccentric quidditch fanatic. "The best seeker in the game, as we speak."

Okay, so it's the latter. I rolled my eyes at James's admiration.

"Well, no, not really," I told him. "I have a wedding rehearsal to go to-"

"Is it yours?"

"No, James," I said with irritation, "you know I'm not getting married for another two months."

Before he could say anything else, I added hastily, "Where is Jasper?"

"Back there," he said, pointing to a few hallways back. I began to walk past him quickly as he was saying, "Hey, you know, you and Ron and my girlfriend and I should all double date sometime. Maybe Ron can help me with my quidditch skills! I think I'm improving, but Annie said she's still a bit embarrassed to claim me…"

He continued to talk far past my earshot. I had to laugh aloud from still hearing his voice from a distance. As I neared a glass door with black writing that said, "Editor," I quickly straightened up and ran a hand through my hair. I then arranged my foot to be in the most painless way possible in my awful heels, knocked lightly, and was beckoned into the office.

"Oh, miss Granger," he said. He wore a dark dress pants and a white, buttoned-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He had the dreadful smell of stingy aftershave and light gray hair, but his editing skills are still in the best condition. "I just received your piece on Alena Styles, and I have to say…your feature stories are awful."

My mind exploded at once with questions. Sheer panic must've shown on my face because Jasper quickly added, "But your news stories are what I'm interested in. Since you've been on the Wizard's Weekly staff, I've been looking for your pros and cons. And your piece on Alena hardly did her justice."

I opened my mouth to speak, to defend my story at all cost, that Alena was a horrid girl and that piece was too generous for her, but he interrupted me again.

"Please, please," he said, waving me off with his hand, "let me finish. You've been with us for what, two years now Granger?"

I nodded, trying to keep the anger boiling inside of me at a reasonable level. I had never really failed at anything before.

"You've been a great employee-always on time, never rude to anyone, always attentive and ready to learn new things-but your writing is my main concern."

Oh no, I'm going to get fired. He's finally had it with me. I've known I'm not that great of a writer! Oh, why did I get involved in journalism, I could've been a teacher or a healer or an auror or-

"So I'm thinking about including you in headline issues. The most dangerous things we cover, because your past has proven you are cool and collected in times of crisis. You'll start with our esteemed group of experts on our most troubling stories. Headliners, front pages…that's what you can handle Granger."

I stood in front of my editor, shaking, entirely stunned. This was not what I expected.

"But sir," I said, somehow able to find my voice, "there-there are writers that have waited years for front pages and I've only been here for two years-"

"They don't have your experience," he interrupted. "You helped defeat the most threatening wizard our world has ever faced! Don't you think that counts for something?"

I quickly recalled three years ago, when I was seventeen, and the finally battle between Harry and Voldemort that I'd witnessed. The thought turned my stomach into knots.

"Sir," I said slowly, "I don't think I should get any special treatment for that. I didn't really do anyth-"

"Nonsense, nonsense," he told me, standing up briskly and drinking a gulp of his pure-caffeine coffee. "Now, tomorrow is Saturday, but you'll work half the day. You are to meet with two of our specialists and I'll get you started on one of our most troublesome stories: the drama with the Blue Badgers Quidditch time."

The drama he was referring to was the strange coincidence that every game the Blue Badgers seem to play, no matter the score or audience, someone was always killed by being sliced vertically into two large pieces. Their bodies could lay there for hours before being discovered by happy fans walking home or Ministry of Magic employees that handled security. Either outcome was not received well.

"Well, sir…thank you for this honor-"

"Oh, don't feed me all that horse radish," he said. "Go on, get out of here!"

I smiled at his rudeness and fled the office with wonderful thoughts I couldn't wait to share with Ron. Still, fear crept into my mind about being so close with death, but Jasper was right about something: I was used to that. I ran out of the office and into the cool, crisp September air.

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I finally arrived at the large, spacious chapel over an hour later then planned. I received a dark glance from the wedding planner as I walked down the middle aisle to the front of the chapel. I received many, "Hello!"s and "Why are you so late?"s and even some, "Finally!"s, as I took my bundle of flowers and my space beside Ginny. She looked absolutely wonderful, especially for someone who was about to be married tomorrow. Her face showed signs of nervousness and excitement, but she could barely keep her eyes averted from Harry (who stood on the other side of her, telling her some joke he'd heard from Fred and George about Lisa, their wedding planner).

I searched the room for Ron, and found him talking lazily with his dad about muggle mouse pads ("So you say they aren't actually mice?" Mr. Weasley was saying in disbelief). I caught his eye and waved him to me.

My heart began to flutter, as it usually did whenever I saw him.

He was in his tight quidditch robes with a dark jacket over them. He usually came to meet me at places straight from quidditch practice and it seemed to never loose its appeal. His hair was going in every direction and he was sticky with sweat, making my heart race even more.

He instantly flung his arms around my waist and lifted me off the ground. I laughed and ran my fingers through his thick, red hair. I love how his heartbeat feels against mine. His was racing, just like mine. He kissed my neck on that spot that he knows always tickles me, and I laughed harder and drew away. That only challenged him more, and he ran his hands up and down my waist. I love the way he touches me.

Finally he put me back firmly on the ground, his strong arms still around me. We shared a glance of amusement, and I ran my hand over his cheek as he asked, "How was your day?"

I debated over what I would tell him. I could say, "Fine," and get no more questions, but I was too excited to not tell someone. I looked around the room and saw Ginny and Harry talking on the side on the stage, with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley scolding Fred and George for bewitching the curtains nearby…again. Bill and Charlie were trading job stories and Percy was sitting in the back of the pews with a loathsome glare.

"Okay," I said, clasping my hands behind his neck as I spoke, "I got some really great news today!"

"Really? Did Jasper like your Alena story?"

"No," I said flatly, and he gave a puzzled look. "But my awful Alena story helped him see what I am cut out for-dangerous headlines."

I waited for an excited reaction, but I found none.

"Dangerous headlines?" he asked me. "I'm-I'm a bit baffled Hermione. What does that suppose to mean?"

"Well," I said, lowering my hands away from him, "it means I'll get to do stories that actually matter to people. This is great news Ron."

"But isn't it…you know, dangerous?"

I stared at his eyes, trying to find something positive, whenever Lisa called us all together again.

"Okay, okay everyone!" she shouted over all the conversations. "Let's run through it again, but this time actually with the Maid of honor!"

She shot me another hateful stare, but I ignored it this time. I was more concerned about what Ron was thinking.

We all moved to the front room before you reached the chapel doors, and Lisa began the entrances.

"Ron and Hermione!" she shouted.

I took Ron's arm as the wide chapel doors were opened for us. We walked the majority of the way down in silence before I said, "Well, isn't that exciting?"

I counted the seconds before he replied, my heart racing. One…two…three…four…five…

"Yes," he said carefully, "of course it is. But…"

"But?"

"It's not safe."

I laughed loudly, earning a third hateful stare from Lisa. "Ron Weasley!" I said, intolerance building in my voice. "Do not tell me that is dangerous whenever you earn a living by playing one of the most violent games in history!"

He seemed to take this into account just as we parted. I stood closest to the side Ginny would be on, and he to Harry. I tried to catch his attention, but he seemed to be staring straight ahead. I clasped my hands together and closed my eyes, just wishing for any sort of happiness I had felt about this assignment to last just a little longer.

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I didn't like the idea of Hermione on dangerous news stories, at all. My smart, sensitive Hermione in the middle of danger again? I hated the thought. I thought we were finally done being in the middle of peril, living day by day and fearing for each other's lives. The last year of Hogwarts, when Hermione and I admit loved for each other, was the most frightening year I've ever experienced. I could handle my own death, maybe I would've even experienced some relief in the fighting finally being over-but I loved Hermione more then myself, and I couldn't imagine living without her.

Under no circumstance did I want to relive that year, only worse then before. Hermione was now my fiancé, and I knew we would spend the rest of our lives together. I can't spend my entire life in fear, I thought. She just doesn't understand.

"Ron. Ron!"

I spun around, and there she was: my beautiful future bride. Her hair was down in tight curls, her dark skirt and blue collar shirt fitting her perfectly. She had a run in her panty hose, and her makeup was smudged from one of my mum's bone-breaking hugs. And she looked beautiful.

I stopped walking and let her catch up. The temperature was quickly dropping, and I saw her pull her cloak closer to her. I instinctively put my hand on her back as she said, "Ron, what was that in there? What are you so worried about?"

I bit my lip. This is your chance to tell her everything, Ron. Just say it…tell her how that year made you feel, and how you never want to relive it…c'mon, just tell her…

"It was nothing," I heard myself say. "Really, I'm just…tired, you know? And I'm excited, about the wedding tomorrow…and about our own wedding in November."

I grinned at this, struggling to look happy. It seemed to work, and she grinned too. She came into my arms, her head on my chest and said, "I know. I can barely wait."

I put my head on top of hers, and closed my eyes. I tried to fight back any fears and reminded myself she was strong. She'd survived exactly what I had, didn't she? So why was I doubting her strength?

I took a deep breathe, and kissed her forehead.

"I love seeing you in your quidditch robes," she said to me, her voice muffled from talking into my chest.

I laughed, just realizing I had came here straight from quidditch practice.

"Oops, I must be completely dirty."

She snuggled in closer to me, kissed my neck in a way that awaked body parts I never knew I even had, and whispered, "It's okay. I'm used to it."

I laughed, and she did too. "Well thank you."

I looked up at my brother who was exiting the chapel by himself.

"Hey Perc!" I called.

He waved at me, but apparated quickly afterwards. Hermione lifted herself from my arms, and looked at me. "Percy still not talking to anyone?"

I shook my head. I had no idea how to get through to him!

"That was ages ago," Hermione told me. "Everything with the Ministry, I mean-you'd think he would've gotten over it by now."

I sighed, and rubbed my hands together. It was getting colder outside sooner. "You want to get some hot chocolate?"

She shook her head. "I'm very tired, I think I'll just-"

"So, no…"

I raised my eyebrows, and winked, hoping she would come back home with me tonight. She began to laugh, which is always a bad sign for me.

"No Ron, not tonight," she said, placing both hands on my face and giving me a long kiss. I felt it down to the very tips of my toes, and I yearned for more. More then that, but this would have to do, so I kissed her immediately after she released, deeper and more passionately. Surprise overtook her, but she soon settled into it. After what seemed like only a few moments, she broke away.

"I really need to get home Ron," she said, breathless. She knew I was just trying to get her wound up, and she wasn't so easily fooled. Sometimes I hated having a smart girl control my own sexual pleasure. "Besides," she said, teasing me, "you can't have a long night, you have quidditch practice tomorrow morning."

I gave her a sarcastic glare, and she shot me a smirk.

"So you promise you're not upset about this new position?"

I had let it slip from my mind, and when I thought about it, I was still upset. I debated my options: I could tell her the truth and get into an argument, or I could pretend I was okay with it and avoid an argument. Either way, I would be unhappy. Why is love so complicated?

I didn't want to hesitant in front of her, though, so I shook my head and said, "No, not at all," and that seemed to satisfy her.

"Good," she said, now grinning as she slid her arms into mine. "So I'll see you tomorrow morning to start getting ready for the wedding?"

I nodded. "What time do you want me to pick you up?"

"Just meet me here at about eleven, okay? I need to drop by work."

I kissed her goodnight briefly, gave her hand a squeeze and said, "I love you."

She said, "I love you too," and suddenly apparated to her and Ginny's shared flat in London. I sighed and stuffed my hands into the pockets of my coat, my stomach twisting into complex knots as I apparated home myself.

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A/N-Well this is the first chapter to get things rolling. Much more interesting chapter coming up. Stay with me!