A/N: I really love this chapter. I've been poking at it for about a week. (It may not seem like that to you, dear reader, because of the way I work~ five or six chapters at a time before I start proofing and uploading) I wrote the previous chapter and this one in tandem as I knew the basics as to the who and the how. Anyway, I love that Hermione is the most pragmatic of JK's Golden Trio and I took it just a bit further because I can!

Anyway, IGOTEAMEDWARD, I hope this answers your query! Also a quick shout out to dragonlovermudblood and Vadimmom! Thank you for the reviews.


"Did you hear that?" The question was purely rhetorical as Blaise was well aware that everyone seated in the booth had heard the conversation between Harry and Hermione. "Neither of them seem to think very highly of the law or us for that matter."

Pansy spoke up then, the roughness of her voice much like the purr of a cat. "Well do you blame them? It's not like our opinions have changed all that much. Do you really want to dirty up your family lines with one of them? As he said, we are just trying to get the best of a bad lot."

Draco tsked, his tone abrupt. "I stopped believing that shit when we were still at Hogwarts. Did you forget about Voldemort..." He paused and grinned at the shudders from Daphne and Pansy. "He was half-blood like our very own Boy-Who-Just-Would-Not-Die. Hard to believe that mess when a muggle-born beat the snot out of us intellectually and a half-blood was our savior. How the hell can you be that stupid?"

Blaise nodded. "I never believed it, not about the blood, anyway. I just don't like the average muggle-born. They come here and know absolutely nothing about our world and then we are expected to teach them things they should already know."

"But how are they supposed to know?" Draco asked Blaise, his voice contemplative. "They don't even hear about us until they get their Hogwarts letters. Personally, I think we should start a mentor program for half-bloods and Muggle-borns. Pureblood families should adopt one or two, show them the ropes, teach them the rituals specific to all of Wizarding England." Theo nodded as Draco continued. "It would be damned difficult to breed dissent if they understood how we think, how we live."

All but Theo stared at the blond wizard as if he'd grown a second head. It was Daphne who broke the silence. "I do hope you put Astoria on your list. She spouts the same nonsense as you!"

Draco forestalled her with a raised hand. "Have you ever watched a muggle or muggle-born bleed out on your floor? Seen a half-blood die screaming from multiple cruciatus curses? No? Well, I have and they are no fucking different than us. The only thing we have that they don't is magic from pure unbroken lines of wizards. That's it. The sooner you sad fucks realize this, the happier you'll be." He slipped from the booth. "I've lost my appetite but think on what I've said, okay? I would hate to think that my friends are stupid enough to believe the bull our parents spouted at us for years. Use the brains I know that you have!"

Then he was gone.

Theo left not soon after.

It was Blaise who spoke then, his deep voice the merest murmur. "Well, it's obvious that Drake and Teddy have changed their opinions, right? Maybe we should give serious thought to why we believe what we believe."

Pansy nodded. "I'll try."

Daphne said nothing, neither for nor against. Instead, she made plans to speak to Rita Skeeter just as soon as she left her friends. There was no way she was going to fall in line with the rest of them. Dirty blood was dirty blood, no matter how one painted it. Maybe if she told someone about what the pair had said, public opinion would change yet again. After all, purebloods were at the top of the food chain in the wizarding world.

They would hate to hear that some jumped up upstarts thought negatively about them.

~The Next Day~

Harry and Hermione met at the breakfast table, both clutching a copy of the day's Prophet. It was Harry who spoke first. "Did you see Skeeter's piece?"

"Not yet. Why?" Hermione asked as she fiddled about making her first cup of tea.

"Listen to this shit," he said and then began to read out loud:

Hermione Granger and Harry Potter were overheard yesterday at Diagon Alley's own Little Bites bemoaning the upcoming matches for Miss Granger. Much was made of their belief in the fact that most purebloods don't want to dirty their bloodlines and only chose her for being the best of those with "Dirty blood."

My confidential informant assures me that such is not the case, that it is only Miss Granger's well-known background that has garnered such attention€. For that matter, Mr. Harry Potter seems to believe that he falls under the same flag. How are we to move past the war with our "saviors" believing such madness? How will the Marriage and Repopulation Act work when people who fall under the same umbrella as our two heroes have no faith in the changes we've made?

With statements such as " I am going to be trapped, surrounded by people who will always think of me as an exception like look! She's so well trained for a mudblood, she even has table manners!" ~a direct quote from Hermione Granger, in public no less! Or "You are going to have it far worse than I if you get matched to one of those families. I hate that I can't protect you from it!" ~from the mouth of Harry Potter, it is no wonder that people still struggle for acceptance.

Say what you will about the Second Wizarding War, but there were losses on both sides. To think that purebloods are aching to denigrate someone solely due to their bloodline is to paint an entire group with the same negative brush as was used against Muggle-borns, half-bloods, giants, werewolves and the like. It is not fair to the law abiding citizens that were not charged with crimes or were pardoned just over a year ago. I just believe that sort of talk should not occur. Not now. It's a new year and a new day is dawning.

Be fair, Miss Granger. Think before you speak, Mr. Potter.

Hermione met Harry's gaze as he finished reading, her mouth open in shock. "Who heard us? It's like they sat there just to store everything away and run off to report it to the one bitch who hates us most!"

Harry shook his head and threw his copy of the paper onto the kitchen table. "It doesn't matter. The conversation, while private, was held in a public place. We can't even go after her for printing lies as what she quoted was true. The rest of it is inflammatorily written but our words are ours. The most we can hope to do is ask to meet with one reporter to offer our own memories of the conversation and have them write an unbiased story."

Hermione tossed her wild curls away from her face while she paced the length of the kitchen at a furious clip. A full minute went by in silence before she finally grinned at the emerald-eyed young man across from her and stated, "She has obviously forgotten what my jar feels like. Whether our words were reported truthfully or not she KNOWS she is not to print anything without my approval."

With nary a pause, the slender young woman turned and headed for the stairs. "I will go get dressed and handle this business. Just stop by my Department and let them know I will be later than usual. I should be there by ten."

Harry grunted an affirmative and Hermione was gone, up to her room to shower and dress before going to beard a bug in her den. Obviously, things had been far too civilized until recently and people forgot that Hermione was not one to be trifled with. No worries. Miss Skeeter would remember soon enough.

~The Daily Prophet Offices 9:10 A.M.~

"Where is she?" Hermione's voice was quite cordial, only the merest hint of bad temper hidden in the husky tones.

"Who," was the receptionist's query, her eyes wide.

"Rita Skeeter. Tell her Hermione Granger is here to see her. She can either see me now or see me at the DMLE as I am sure she has some information they are dying to know."

The woman jumped up, face a whiter shade of pale and hastened into the warren of offices hidden behind the respectable looking door. A few moments later, Barnabas Cuffe hurried through that same door, his face flushed.

"What's the issue, Miss Granger?"

"Oh, Mr. Cuffe, I was not aware that you were Rita's personal messenger. You have until the count of five to bring that vile, nasty little bug out from wherever she's decided to scuttle away to or I will send my Patronus to the DMLE so quickly it will make your head spin. Wouldn't the wizarding world like to know the truth about the way Miss Skeeter gathers her news? I have a very good memory and have no problem with offering it up to those who wonder." She leaned closer, her small frame invading the man's personal space. "Send that bitch out here now or see what happens. The choice is yours."

"Oh, um, well..." He paused, swallowed. "Follow me, Miss Granger."

A minute or two later, Hermione was seated across from the woman who had printed something she knew would gain just such a response. Rita, whose blonde curls seemed especially hard this day, leaned as far away from her desk and the irritated female on the opposite side as possible but that did not matter a single bit as Hermione only shifted closer.

"So, what were you thinking, Miss Skeeter? Hoping I wouldn't see it?"

Rita attempted to smirk but it fell rather flat due to the profusion of sweat gathered at her temples. "It doesn't matter, I printed nothing untrue."

Hermione nodded, a faint smile curving her full lips upward. "No, the things you quoted were very true but it was the tone of the article, you vitriolic little bug, the tone which makes the whole of it so much worse. You spoke of a private conversation and attempted to paint Harry and me as troublemakers. That will not do." The darker skinned female stood up and leaned over the desk. "You will fix it or I will fix you. If you had ever bothered to register this would be a moot conversation, but you haven't, have you? Otherwise, Harry would know. I am not saying that you have to print a full retraction because that would be stupid. What I am saying is that either you correct the words surrounding our conversation or I will end your career. I expect to see either a retraction or a more balanced op-ed in tonight's Prophet."

"But we won't be printing to..." Hermione glared at the woman until she shut her bright red lips.

"Oh, you will be. Editor Cuffe assured me of it on my way to see you. He understands my position VERY well and he will reject, outright, anything that he deems trashy. You will not write that I've threatened you because if you do, I will do more than threaten. I will make your worse fears true. I will scream it from the highest rooftop that you are an unregistered animagus, a bug I kept in a jar, a bug that I should have squashed when I had the chance. I will go to every DECENT reporter I know and offer my own personal memories for their perusal." Hermione leaned even closer. "And when I finish destroying your career? When you are alone in the dark of the night? I will come for you and I promise you that you will never see me coming."

The tension ramped up until it was so thick that a sword would not have cut it and then Hermione smiled and sat down. "Do we have a deal, Miss Skeeter?"

The blonde woman could do no more than nod. Why she'd listened to that Greengrass chit was beyond her but she swore to herself that she would never do so again. Just when she thought the meeting was over, Hermione stood up and spoke once more. "To sweeten the deal and to show you that I have absolutely no hard feelings," Here there was a quick flash of sparkling white teeth. "I am willing to offer you an exclusive. You may view my memories of the aforementioned conversation and write it up as long as I approve the final package. This way you can honestly say that you were simply misinformed and after learning the truth of the matter, you've chosen to add to your original story."

Rita leaned forward, interested despite herself. "No one else would be privy to these memories besides yourself and Mr. Potter?"

"No. Only myself and Harry were actively involved in the conversation. And, if by some chance, you learn of Ginevra Weasley's breaking her engagement so that she could be better matched from them then so be it." Another wide, winsome smile.

Rita nodded. "She's fair game but you two are not. Is that the gist?"

"Just write the full truth for once, Miss Skeeter. Don't pretty it up or attempt to paint it a certain way. No matter how it goes, Ginny won't come out well and that is just fine with me. Harry might be offended but he isn't the one you need to worry about." Another grin. "After all, I am the one smart enough to end you and never get caught."

Then with a final smile, Hermione turned and headed for the door. "So, are you coming?"

Rita flew out the door behind her.

After the interview and a quick look over the "corrected" article, Hermione headed into work. She was much later than ten, closer to eleven, but since she had no real work due that afternoon, she figured there wouldn't be too much of a fuss.

As usual, she was right.

By the time she decided to call it a day there were two owls waiting. One was obviously the Weasley's. The other? Well, it was the Malfoy's. She took both proffered envelopes, gave each owl a treat and readied herself for home. She would read what was said once she was with Harry and not a moment before.

It was as she was leaving the Ministry that she got her first look at the Evening Prophet. She'd managed to get the whole first page and the article, while not a retraction of the morning's words, did much to paint Hermione and Harry in a more sympathetic light as it underlined the fact that both young people were dealing with the changes in the only way they knew how: by talking to each other and offering support.

Hermione had admitted that their choice of venue for such a conversation was ill-done but at the end of the day, she only wanted to offer her best to her match in the hopes that he would give her the same. It was (if she did say so herself) brilliantly done. There was also a short blurb about Harry's new situation since Ginny had ended their engagement. While the young woman did not come off as overly nice or well-meaning, there was no heat attached.

Somehow, that made it so much worse.

Hermione, for her part, drew startled gazes as she giggled her way through the Atrium and into the Floo for home. Though the day had started on a wrong note, the end of it was just peachy. She was sure Harry would get a good laugh from it as well.