A/N: If you guys want to see more, you really need to review. Please and thank you!
Chapter 10
Hermione Weasley could deal with a lot. She could deal with fighting Voldemort, she could deal with a toddler in her terrible two's, and she could deal with Ron often forgetting to pick up groceries. But this was the one thing she could not; no, would not deal with. Her anger was apparently evident to her coworkers, as her assistant asked timidly, "Are you alright Mrs. Weasley?" Hermione took a deep breath, and placed the Daily Prophet she was reading gently on her desk. "You're looking a little bit green." Her assistant added, quietly.
"You're quite right." Hermione said after a brief pause. "I believe I need to go get some air." And with that she picked up her coat and began making her way towards the door.
"But Mrs. Weasley, you have a meeting at 3!" Her assistant yelled after her. Hermione ignored her, got in the elevator, and pressed the button to the floor she wanted. She knew this floor well, not only did her husband work on the floor for two years, but her other best friend was still currently working on it. Normally she wouldn't bother him at work, he was an Auror after all, but this was something she knew she had to talk through with her best friend. It didn't appear to be a too busy day, as she could walk the length of the floor without bumping into anyone. There was the occasional pointing at her as they recognized her face, "they must be new here" she thought to herself as she finally made her way to his office. She knocked and then waited.
"Come in." His voice from the other side of the door said, sounding tired. Hermione pushed the door open, finding her best friend sitting at his desk. He looked up, surprised to see her, as she normally didn't come to the Auror floor. He did look tired Hermione decided, looking him over quickly. Either it was a long work week, or having two kids and a pregnant wife was taking its toll on him. Hermione looked at her own growing stomach, wondering if Ron was going to have a similar appearance to Harry soon. Harry crossed from his desk to give her hug. "What do I owe you the pleasure?" He asked as he pulled away. He motioned for her take a seat, but she shook her head. "Not a visit of leisure then, eh?" Harry asked, sitting back down at his desk. Hermione shook her head again, and began pacing. She started to try to say what she came to say, but grunted and began pacing again. This happened a few times, with hand motions to go along with it. "Just spit it out, would ya?" Hermione finally put her hands on the back of the chair opposite of Harry.
"How do you deal with it Harry?" She asked. Harry was flabbergasted. Dealt with what? With being famous? He had known he was famous since he was eleven, and there was no sign of it slowing down anytime soon. Hermione knew what it was like although she wasn't the 'Chosen One', she was part of the 'Golden Trio'.
"Gotta be a little more specific Hermione." Harry said. She rolled her eyes and began pacing again. It was at this time that Harry realized what she had in her hands. He realized he hadn't looked at his copy of the Daily Prophet yet, he had been too busy running around with his daily duties. His pile of mail had been delivered by owl this morning, and was left on the window sill. Hermione still pacing, he crossed the room to the window sill and sifted through the mail until he found what he was looking for. It began obvious to Harry what she was asking the moment he saw the cover. Hermione paused as she realized what he was looking at, and she held her breath. Harry could feel the blood rushing to his face as anger enveloped him. "WHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS THIS PICTURE?!" Harry finally erupted, startling Hermione. On the cover of the Prophet was a picture of Rose, asleep in what appeared to be a room in the Burrow. "How in the bloody hell did they manage this?!" Harry asked, running a hand through his hair. This wasn't even his child, but was his niece. He couldn't imagine how mad Hermione felt. She came to stand by Harry, looking down at the picture.
"That's the same question I had." She whispered, running a hand over the picture of her daughter. "Is nothing sacred? She's only two years old; she has no idea her parents did something famous. She's just a baby." Harry put a consoling arm around her.
"Unfortunately it's the price we pay for saving the world. Do you have any idea how many times James and Al have been photographed without Ginny's or my permission?" Harry paused for Hermione's answer, which was a shake of her head. "Probably more than you or I want to even imagine, but over hundreds of times."
"Is there really nothing we can do?" Hermione said, now sounding desperate. "I have another baby on the way, and I don't want him or her to be put in the spot light the minute they come into the world."
"Like me?" Harry asked. There was a stark silence as Hermione took in his words. And now she felt like a jerk. Harry had always, and will always be in the spot light. He never chose that path, but she and Ron knew exactly what they were getting into, and they chose it anyway. "I didn't mean it like that, I just meant that it's the price of being famous." Hermione nodded, wiping away a few tears she hadn't noticed were forming in her eyes. "Told Ron yet?"
"Not bloody likely." She answered, quoting his most famous catch phrase. "Reckon he'd blow up in a Weasley fashion." Harry grinned at her wickedly.
"You're a Weasley now, aren't you Hermione?" He said, the wicked grin lingering on his face. It took her a moment to catch his drift, and a wicked grin started to form on her own lips as well. Harry and Ron were having such a negative influence on her!
"Well then by your logic, you're a Weasley too Harry Potter." She answered, as they continued exchanging wicked grins.
The large front door banged at the Daily Prophet, shocking everyone out their late afternoon stupor. Hushed whispers were being exchanged as Harry Potter and Hermione Weasley walked briskly through. Anyone who got in their way backed up as one of the pair pointed their wand at them. "Where's Rita Skeeter's office?" Hermione demanded of the secretary at the desk, her voice venomous. The secretary was trembling in fear as she pointed to a door at the left. Hermione nodded at Harry as she stood back up. They marched to Rita Skeeter's office and barged in without knocking. Rita Skeeter was sitting back in her chair, her quill writing as she talked to it. At the sight of Hermione, the quill dropped. She looked like she was about to start blubbering out an explanation when Hermione slammed a hand on the table, much to Harry's surprise. "Don't say even a word you lying sack of crap." Hermione snarled. Harry handed Hermione the Prophet before standing behind Rita Skeeter in order to prevent her escape. Hermione slammed the Prophet down in front of Rita Skeeter, pointing to the picture of Rose. "How did you get that picture?!" Hermione demanded. Rita Skeeter's eyes bulged as she looked between Harry and Hermione, realizing there was no escape.
"I- I-, it wasn't me. Someone else in the Prophet took that picture." She said, defending herself. Hermione let out another snarl, but Harry put a hand up, and Hermione backed up, rubbing her bump a little. Rita Skeeter looked relieved. "Thank you Mr. Potter, you clearly understand what being famous is all about." She said with a large grin. Harry tried to contain his anger as he spit out,
"You are an idiot. If you ever come near mine, or Hermione and Ron's kids again, we will hex you from this dimension." He said.
"But I told you, it wasn't me." Rita Skeeter said, still defending herself. This time Harry couldn't contain his anger.'
"But how many times have you tried to sneak into my lawn to grab a picture? How many times have you followed my sons from school? HOW MANY TIMES…" He started raising his pitch, only stopping as Hermione now held up her hand. She leaned once again close to Rita Skeeter's face.
"You may not have written this article, but you know who did. If another article ever of my daughter, or my next child, is published without my permission or my husband's… "She looked at Harry, "or the Potters' permission, it will be your head we will be after, not the other writers."
"Are you threatening me?! I could have you arrested for this!"
"We defeated Voldemort Ms. Skeeter, do you really want to take that chance?" Harry added. At that, with one final glance at the picture of Rose, he and Hermione left.
"Did you see her blubbering in there?" Hermione giggled as she and Harry left the Daily Prophet, leaving awestruck people behind them. Harry couldn't contain the smirk on his face.
"And Ron used to say Hermione Granger was a goody two shoes."
"Yeah, well that was before I became a Mum." Hermione shot back, looping her arm in Harry's.
"Careful there, you don't want the rumor mill to start." He said seriously, looking for dodgy looking photographers. Hermione shrugged.
"Well, now we know how to take care of them." She answered, gripping Harry's arm tighter as they walked.
A/N: Alright, if you want more, leave a review! I have been getting more of these done cause I realized my brain needs a break from all the schooling!