About a month after the wedding they were gathered at the Burrow for Sunday lunch, they hadn't all been together since Harry and Ginny had come back from their honeymoon. Lunch had been delicious, obviously, as Molly had cooked it. After the meal she found herself on the sofa sipping a butterbeer sitting next to Harry.
"I'm glad you're home. I haven't gone that long without seeing you in years." She patted his hand.
"We had a great time, but it's good to see you, too." He smiled back at her, looking more tan and relaxed than she'd ever seen him. She shifted towards him.
"You know I've been meaning to ask you something." She laughed as he looked a little wary. "About Snape's potions book." His wariness increased.
"What about it?" He looked a mixture of slightly guilty and slightly annoyed. "You don't still want me to get rid of it, do you?"
"No, of course not. I want to publish it."
"You… what?" He looked surprised.
"I want to publish it. Nearly all the instructions are better than what's in the standard book and I want the students to have the best. And I want to give Snape credit for all that work. I wanted to see what you thought about that."
Harry was quiet a moment. "Yeah. I think that would be good. You'll do right by him."
"I'll do my best, I promise." She was thrilled he'd agreed do easily.
"Alright then. I'll bring it over tomorrow." He seemed to think about it for another moment then nodded again. She was happy that he was on board with this.
They both looked up as Mrs. Weasley entered the room. "Well, Hermione dear, it looks like it's your turn to walk down the aisle. When will you and Draco decide to make it official?" Mrs. Weasley questioned. Hermione blushed and cleared her throat. She knew Mrs. Weasley did not like the thought of her and Draco living together not being married.
"Erm… We haven't talked about it lately. We will, Mrs. Weasley. Don't worry." She squirmed a little as the Weasley matron managed to look both loving and disapproving at the same time. She left to return to the kitchen to work on the huge mess that was left after feeding everyone.
"Where is everyone?" Harry asked after he finished sniggering at her.
At that moment, Ron came busting in the backdoor. "Harry! Quidditch! Orchard! Now! Hermione! Come keep score!"
Hermione rolled her eyes but Harry leapt off the couch to join in the game. She was glad things had smoothed out with Ron. He still looked a little queasy whenever she and Draco showed any affection, but he wasn't angry anymore. She couldn't even tell you when it happened… it wasn't like they had some long, heartfelt talk; he just gradually decreased the snide remarks and glares until they were gone. She was glad he'd come to terms with it, she had missed their friendship.
She spent the remainder of the afternoon watching and laughing as she watched the Weasleys, Harry, and Draco fly over the orchard. She was really amused listening to Harry and Draco, who were opposing seekers, heckle each other across the impromptu pitch. It would never cease to amaze her that they were friends. Just don't tell them that.
The weeks passed quickly as she threw herself into working on the book. She'd set up the second bedroom of their flat, which had been serving as a library to their vast combined collection of books, into a potions lab. She'd draped plastic down the bookshelves to ensure that their books didn't absorb any vapors or be ruined by any accidents. She and Harry had sat down and gone over which ones he had remembered brewing successfully in class. After a year of potions class it ended up being the majority of them. She spent two weeks holed up in the 'lab' and made the remaining potions with Snape's improvements. She had known starting out that Snape's instructions would be spot on, but she couldn't responsibly publish them without double checking.
She'd been in contact with several publishers shopping the idea around and had a few initial offers to look over. While she worked she thought about what to do with the proceeds of sales. She initially thought she'd like to give the house elves of Hogwarts a salary and benefits, but remembered that this was Snape's work and not hers. She still had time to decide. She remembered that he'd been a poor child… maybe a benevolence fund for purchasing school supplies for kids from lower-income families. She'd figure it out later.
"How much longer are you going to work, love?" Draco asked, leaning through the door surveying her cauldrons and cutting boards.
"Just another could of minutes and then clean up. This will have to set up overnight." She said while adding two teaspoons of powdered bicorn horn. "How was your day?"
"Good… my boss asked me to sit for the exam." He said quietly.
"What? You mean… to officially be a lawyer?" She stopped and turned to face him.
"Yeah. They're promoting me to legal assistant starting next week. They want me to sit the exam in six weeks. If I pass they'll put me on the fast track to junior attorney." He said with wide eyes. She could see the excitement he was trying to stifle.
"Merlin, Draco! That's wonderful!" She abandoned the cleanup for the moment and threw her arms around his neck. "Well you'll pass it no problem! You've already been studying for it for a year!"
"It's a bit eerie how much you've rubbed off on me. Studying a year in advance…" He winked at her.
"You studied while we were in school," She said, turning back to straighten up her table. "Although, I believe that was your vain attempt to try and beat my grades." She smirked at him over her shoulder.
"You know, I think it's me who's rubbed off on you: you never used to smirk." When she just laughed he added, "You have twenty minutes to finish and get ready for dinner. You're taking me out to celebrate my promotion."
The next three weeks passed in a haze of potion vapors and writing for Hermione and endless hours of reading for Draco. One Thursday evening she found herself shuffling through a stack of offers from no fewer than four publishing houses. She had no idea what to do with this, she was not good at contracts and negotiations. This led her to gather them up and search out Draco, who was in the living room with a multitude of texts spread on the coffee table.
"Hey. I'd like to pick your brain when you get a moment." She settled in the arm chair across from him.
"Go ahead; I've done about all I can do tonight. I'm just staring at the pages at this point." He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands.
She tossed the papers down in front of him. "These are my offers for the book. I'm not sure what to do with them."
"Have you sent them all manuscripts?" He asked, reading each document in turn.
"Just excerpts so far. I've actually just finished it though. It's ready." She said quietly. His head shot up.
"You finished it?" He asked, surprised.
She nodded, torn between being proud and terrified of calling it finished. "It's still got to be approved by the ministry since it's a required text book, but I've already spoken with the wizard in charge and he said it would probably only take a week to ten days since it's just a revision of an existing book, and" she flushed a bit, "because of my reputation."
"Wow. That's fast. What are you calling it?"
"Just Advanced Potion Making, Second Edition."
"And the authors?" He asked, setting the papers down.
"The original author, Snape, …. and myself. I re-wrote some of the text. Snape revised the instructions and I revised some of the theory…. to make it easier to read and understand. That's alright, isn't it?" She asked nervously. She was still in shock that she had the audacity to make any changes to a textbook even when she really felt that they were necessary. Old Borage may have been an excellent potions maker, but some of his explanations of the theory were difficult to follow. She was amazed that she'd gotten it put together in only a little over a month, but most of it had already been done for her by Snape.
"It's brilliant!" He came around the table and pulled her into a hug. "Your mum's going to freak out when you tell her you're a published author." Her heart skipped a beat… Hermione Granger, published author. Amazing. She stifled a giggle. He released her and went back to the offers.
"Right, who published Hogwarts: A History?" He asked, looking up at her, she pointed to the second offer in the stack. He tossed the other three on the floor.
"What are you doing?" She gasped, watching the papers scatter across the carpet.
He rolled his eyes, "Are you telling me you don't want your text published by the same house as did your all-time favorite?"
"Well… if they offer the best deal then, yes." She answered tentatively; slightly embarrassed that he'd called her on that secret wish so easily.
"They've got the best reputation and specialize in textbooks anyways." He read down another page. "So, the original author… Borage or whatever his name was. You've got written permission from his estate to do this thing, right?"
"I would have done, but he hasn't got any. He died thirty years ago and had no descendants and no will. So everything was forfeited to the ministry. I got permission from the Office of Magical Texts and Literacy instead." He nodded, satisfied with her answer.
"Right. Well they've offered you 9.5% of net proceeds. That's pretty good, actually. But then they already pretty much know exactly how many of these they'll sell, it being a required text and all." He finished the last page and looked up at her. "I've got a feeling you aren't going to see any of these profits yourself. Why don't you tell me your plans?"
She laughed at his pained expression. "I've got enough money; I'd rather use it to set up a benevolence fund… like scholarships for books and robes and such for kids coming from poor families. Snape came from a poor family so I feel like he'd be satisfied with this…"
"Snape would be annoyed by all of this and by your sentimental nature, but there's nothing we can do about that." He laughed at the image of Snape handing out galleons to dirty street urchins.
She closed her mouth and sat back a little. She supposed he was right… was she doing the right thing? This was part of Snape's legacy after all.
"No, no, this is a good thing you're doing." He rushed out as he noticed he'd hurt her feelings. "I promise. It's good. Nothing ever made him happy, you know that." She gave a small laugh and he continued. "Okay, we're going to respond and say that we want 12% and we'll negotiate it somewhere in the middle. We'll tell them that the proceeds will go to…. Have you named it yet?"
"Hogwarts Assistance Program."
"Okay, I'll write it up and we'll send it off with Nyx in the morning. She's still off delivering that letter to my mum anyways." He got out a parchment and a ball-point pen and began his response letter. She'd always giggle a little when she saw him use anything muggle. It would never cease to amuse her.
"Brilliant. Thank you for your help. I'll go get started on dinner then, while you do that." He grunted in response, not really paying attention.
She walked into the kitchen and perused the dinner options. She'd just pulled some pasta out of the cupboard when there was a tap at the window above the sink. Outside, a lovely gray owl was perched.
"Oh, we've got some post." She called into the other room as she opened the window for the owl. As she was untying the letter she noticed the bird's toenails were painted a shining green. "You poor thing. Who is your owner?" She gave the bird a soft pet and opened the letter.
Dear Miss Granger,
I am writing to request an interview with you for my upcoming book about the recent wizard wars in Britain. A book with the intimate details is long overdue and your insight would be extremely helpful. I can work you in around the times when my darling Harry is working with me.
Please send your availability back with Kipsy.
Warm regards,
Rita Skeeter
Hermione's jaw unhinged as she read the short letter three times through. The nerve of that woman! Assuming that she'd give her an interview and that Harry would work with her! If she thought for one second that she'd give that lying piece of owl dung the time of day she was sorely mistaken.
She was going to send her a scathing reply right this second. She grabbed up a pen and set it to a paper, but stopped. No, she wouldn't give her the satisfaction of knowing she'd gotten under her skin. Instead she scribbled at the bottom of Rita's letter:
I decline.
She folded it and turned back to the owl, who'd been drinking from the small tray at the window ledge. "Kipsy?" The bird hopped over and obediently held her leg out. She patted the bird again and it flew out the still open window.
She stormed back into the living room. "You will not believe who is writing a book on the war and just wrote to me requesting an interview." She cocked her hip and settled her fist on it.
"Who is it this time?" Draco asked, folding and sealing his completed response.
"Rita effing Skeeter." She ground out.
"No she did not." He said, his eyes wide. Hermione nodded. "After all the rubbish she's written about you, she thinks you'll do an interview?"
"Not only that, she said she'd fit me in around her darling Harry's schedule! As if Harry would give her an interview! She wrote worse things about him than she did me. If I hadn't blackmailed her, she'd have never written that legitimate piece for the Quibbler." She stormed to the fireplace and reached for the floo powder. She was already kneeling to floo Harry when he spoke up behind her.
"Whoa, wait, back up. You blackmailed her?" He asked with wide eyes and mouth gaping, incredulous. When she smiled grimly at him in response he put his hand on his heart and said in a falsely choked voice, "I just... I'm so proud!" She laughed and he narrowed his eyes at her. "What did you do?"
"Erm. There's no time to talk about that right now. I've got to ring Harry." She tossed the powder into the fire and spoke Harry's address, which was only on the other side of the building, but she didn't want to just barge in. She thrust her head in the flames and saw the empty living room. "Harry?" She called loudly. Hopefully they weren't… busy.
Ginny poked her head out of the kitchen. "Oh hey, Hermione." She turned back to the kitchen and spoke to Harry. "It's Hermione. I reckon she's just got a letter, too, then."
Harry came into the living room, slightly red-faced. "Did Rita write you, too?" He asked, waving his letter as evidence.
"Yes. She said she'd work me in around your interviews." She said bitterly.
"Barking, that one. Why would she think we'd talk to her?" He shook his head.
"She knew we wouldn't, and now she's free to make up whatever she wants. Which she would have done anyways. This is going to be a nightmare, Harry. She'll probably say the three of us had some illicit love triangle while we were out on our own or something!" She huffed out a breath. "Who knows where she'll fit Draco into that equation? She'll probably say that I was sleeping with all three of you!"
Harry scraped his hands down his face, then stilled and studied her a moment. "You write it then. I always figured you'd do it sooner or later."
"What?" She asked blankly. He wasn't saying what she thought he was saying, was he?
"Right now there's no historical text detailing the war. It's only a matter of time until that starts to annoy you. You know how many interviews we've turned down with crappy authors because we didn't trust them to do the thing properly. So you should just do it yourself." He laughed when she stared blankly at him. "I promise I'll give you all the interviews you want."
"He's right Hermione. Everyone will know it's accurate if you write it. And it'll be a history, not a drama like Skeeter's book will be." Ginny added from the kitchen doorway.
Hermione gaped at them for another couple of moments. "I'll… but… you two are barking!" She snapped out and they laughed, then Harry made a serious face at her and she knew he meant it. "I guess I'll think about it. Why don't you two come over for dinner tomorrow and we'll talk about it?" Both Potters nodded. "Right then… have a good night." She said somewhat dazedly and straightened up, fully back in her own living room again. She stood and turned to face Draco.
He blinked at her vacant expression. "What's wrong, love?"
"Harry… he wants me to write it." She said slowly. Draco walked up to her and ran his hands down her arms. He was quiet for a moment then gave his opinion.
"I think you should. No one knows it better than you do. You know the stories of everyone that was in the Order and I can give you the scoop on the goings-on on the Dark Side up until the last month." Her gaze shot to his. Was he serious? He looked serious. Did they really think she could do something this important?
"I can't… this is… but… This is insane! Me? Write a history book on ten years' worth of warfare?" She shook her head. "No. This is too important. A historian needs to do this."
"Who? Bathilda Bagshot?" He cocked an eyebrow.
She glared at him. He knew full well the fate that had befallen the poor woman. "Someone like her!" She continued to protest.
"Hermione, there is no one like her." She continued to glare at him.
"Okay then." He held his hands up. "We'll leave it for Rita to write. Eventually someone will do it properly. Her account of it will do until then. I mean, she'll probably make most of it up, and will insinuate- at best- that you were sleeping with all three of us. She'll probably cast aspersions on my character, and Scorp's… she'll probably say he's Voldemort's… She'll likely insinuate that you offered me some sort of... compensation for saving you at the manor…." He trailed off, waiting for her response.
She couldn't allow that. Rita would say that about that poor baby. She could care less about what the woman said about her, but she'd ruin that child's life if she insinuated he was Voldemort's. Even though it had been proven, in a closed session with the Wizengamot that Scorpius was Lucius' child. She could feel herself caving. As huge and intimidating as this project would be, she couldn't let Rita sensationalize it.
She glared up at him. "Well played, Malfoy."
He grinned in triumph. "You're going to do it then?"
"I'm going to think about it." She chewed on her lip. "How can we stall Skeeter then? She's already got a head start and you remember how fast she had Dumbledore's alleged biography out."
Draco thought for a moment. "Floo Potter back and tell him to tell her yes. We'll have him string her out as long as he can waiting for his interview."
She did as he instructed and Harry was happy to participate in any plan that screwed with Rita Skeeter, and went immediately to answer the letter, which he'd put off until after dinner.
When she straightened back up Draco was writing in the letter to the publisher again. "I added a note that said you were contemplating writing an account of the war and asked if they'd be interested in talking more about it." He sealed the envelope and laid it on the table to be sent in the morning. "They'll bite. The war heroine and brightest witch of our age writing the history of the war? It'll be an instant best seller and they know it." She felt a little nauseous all the sudden… "Let's write to the others who made offers on the potions book and make the pitch, that way word will get out and every single publisher is going to want your book over hers."
She felt a flare of panic. "But, what if I decide not to do it? I mean… I haven't committed to this yet, Draco!"
"I know, relax. But if they think there's a possibility, they're going to hold out for your book because it's a first-hand account. Rita wasn't there. You were. They know that, the public knows that." He said calmly, trying to reassure her. It did a bit. Part of her, the Slytherin side of her that Draco had been steadily nurturing over the last couple years started to giggle at the prospect of derailing Rita's book.
"Okay. Let's do that. Even if I don't write it, it should stall her book. Maybe indefinitely…" Her brain went into overdrive, thinking about the pros and cons of taking on this project.
Draco saw her eyes glaze over and sighed. "There went my supper, yeah?" When he got no response he continued. "I'm going to get some sushi from the place on the corner then." She nodded vaguely at him and drifted off to find a pen and parchment to make a chart. "The usual? …. Right." He asked and answered himself. He shook his head at her and grabbing his jacket, headed for the door.