A/N: I decided to give you another quick update, since I was posting other things today anyways! If you have a free moment, and are at all interested in Hermione/Remus stories, check out my newly posted, "Unexpected Embraces." It's a revamp on a series of stories I wrote several years ago.

Other than that, enjoy the update, and thank you so much for all of your reviews. They're giving me the confidence to keep going!


The rest of the Winter holidays passed quickly enough for Hermione, she spent most of her days studying in the library—thought she also studied in Minerva's chambers on occasion. When she wasn't studying, she visited with Minerva, and Remus, quite a bit, as well as popping in to see Hagrid a couple of times. Now that she had the Floo powder, Remus had no reservations about visiting regularly. He had missed her company, and was glad to have it back.

Her calm was broken quickly when the students returned to Hogwarts. Inside the castle walls she was protected from the media, but apparently she had been right about the Weasely's. Only days before New Year's the latest issue of Witch Weekly had been published, and the article had not been flattering.

Hermione was on the cover, and she recognized that the photo was taken by someone immediately following the Trio's escape from Gringotts. She was still wearing Bellatrix Lestrange's clothes. The article clearly stated that Hermione had cheated on "War Hero, Ron Weasely" with no less than four men while they were on the run. "Apparently, there were more important things to Miss Granger than defeating the Dark Lord."

They had even stripped her of her "Sexiest Witch" title, stating clearing that sleeping with Death Eater's was not sexy. Hermione almost chuckled when she saw that, as if she wanted to be considered sexy by Witch Weekly.

What she didn't chuckle at were the glares, and the rumors. The day the students returned she was followed by whispers and snickering. She had spent that night sobbing again, but by the next day she was walking with a new determination towards the Owlery clutching three letters in her hand. The first two were matching letters, offering tell-all interviews to both the Prophet and Witch Weekly—assuming that they were willing to sign contracts agreeing to let her proofread the final pieces. The last, was more difficult, it was to Draco Malfoy.

Dear Draco,

I'm sure it's a shock to be hearing from me, and most likely not pleasant, but unfortunately I am in a situation which requires me to beg for your assistance.

Let's be honest, I saved your life on more than one occasion in the past, and I helped clear your name after the war. All I'm asking is for your testimony in my favor. You have no doubt heard Ronald Weasely's account of my infidelity which has been circulating around newsstands.

These rumors are not only damaging to me personally, but they are putting a strain on my professional, and my academic choices, as well as causing damage to those people who continue to align themselves to me.

I'm therefore asking for your help. There are only two people alive who know what happened that day. I can easily tell my story, but no one is going to believe a frizzy haired muggleborn, you know that. I am asking that you give a statement to those reporters who I allow access to my story. Having my worst enemy confirm my story would most likely bring some merit to it. At least that is my hope.

I know you're not evil, Draco. Please, help me.

Sincerely,

Hermione J. Granger

After sending her letters Hermione headed to Minerva's classroom for their Monday morning class. "Good Morning, Professor," she called out.

"Miss. Granger, welcome back," she smirked, and Hermione grinned. "You look very… happy. Not that I'm not pleased, but I expected you to be a bit less so, after yesterday." Minerva had noticed the treatment her friend had been receiving, and had taken away a fair share of points yesterday as she heard it. She had expected Hermione to be hurting, not…glowing.

"I have a plan," she whispered quickly. "I'll tell you all about it after class, but I'm taking control, Minerva."

Just then, students started trickling in. As class started, Hermione began marking down absences and tardies as Minerva explained the theory behind switching spells.

Suddenly, Minerva snapped, "What are you all whispering about? I have taken twenty points already, and I would prefer not to have to take more. Mr. Johnson, you were just whispering, explain."

Hermione almost felt pity as she watched the boy pale considerably; it was obvious that Mr. Johnson did not want to have to explain this. "Well…" he hesitated, "many of the students were wondering, well they were wondering what she is doing here." Hermione watched as the other students nodded slightly.

"Miss. Granger?" Minerva asked, perplexed, "She has been here since October; she grades quite a few of your papers. Why wouldn't she be here?" Hermione felt her stomach tightening, realizing exactly where this conversation was headed.

"Well," Johnson said quietly, looking at his desk. "Now that she's a death eater—"

Suddenly a mirror on the opposite wall shattered, and Hermione looked quickly towards Minerva who was quivering slightly. "Enough." Minerva growled as the students quivered slightly, "It is obvious that we here at Hogwarts have failed you all, as you have not been taught how to choose reliable sources. That is a much more important skill than any wand waving could ever be. Therefore, I want 5 to 8 pages from each of you describing, in detail, what makes a reliable source, and what makes an unreliable source, using at least six examples. Any student who fails to complete this assignment satisfactorily, will not receive a passing mark in my class. Is that understood?"

The students nodded dumbly. "You are all dismissed to work on your newest assignment," she snarled. "Get out of my classroom."

As the students shrunk out the door, Hermione whistled lowly. "That was impressive, Professor. You're giving Professor Snape a run for his money."

Minerva sensed something in Hermione's tone, and raised an eyebrow towards her, "You disapprove?"

Hermione flushed, "Only mildly. Such a performance wasn't necessary for my sake. I have been called far worse, by far more informed."

Minerva shook her head, and for just a moment, returned her face to the stern mask of the professor Hermione had known for eight years, "Did it ever occur to you, that my display had very little to do with you?" she asked. "Miss. Granger, those students, muttering under their breath during my class are not only disturbing class, and insulting you, they are also questioning my authority and my ability as their professor, and headmistress. They are disrespecting a person who, in terms of this class, is more or less a professor, and they are implying that I am incapable of judging the character of my employees."

"I'm sorry," Hermione said quietly.

"Hermione, you are a dear friend, but you are also an assistant professor in this class—and to be quite honest, if I had my way you would eventually find yourself as a permanent fixture within these walls. I have reacted similarly to declarations regarding Severus, I've simply never met students with the gall to mention such things in the middle of my class before," Minerva raked a hand through her hair, "I will not have the students of this school disrespecting me."

Hermione nodded, flushed with embarrassment. Of course Minerva wouldn't lose her temper like that over her. That was a preposterous idea, and Hermione couldn't believe she would presume such a thing. "I'm sorry Minerva, I was just surprised. Despite all of the shenanigans my classes have put you through; I have never seen you react that way—particularly with the shards of glass flying about the room."

Minerva chuckled slightly, "That particular part may have had a small amount to do with you—possibly. And I'm not surprised you've never seen that, the last time I lost my temper in a classroom I had only just started teaching, my first year, and a sixteen year old Lucius Malfoy had whistled at me as I entered the class room. The windows shattered that day.

Hermione laughed, "I would have loved to see that."

Minerva smiled, "I was mortified at the time, but taking 75 points from Slytherin greatly eased the embarrassment," she explained. "Now, you were going to tell me about your plan to, what did you say, 'take control'?"

Hermione beamed again, a determined glint in her eye. "I'm giving an interview, Minerva."

"Are you sure that's wise, Hermione? You know how they like to twist words in those articles, I would hate for things to be made worse."

"Ye of little faith!" she laughed, "I have told both the Prophet and Witch Weekly that I will be willing to give an all access interview, including details from our year in hiding. The only rule is that I get final approval of any articles run—as in, they will be required to sign a legal contract with me, which if they break, will allow me to absolutely destroy them. I think they'll take the deal though, I've agreed to tell them everything."

Minerva quirked an eyebrow at the younger woman, "Everything?"

Hermione simply waived a hand in the air, "Well, everything I feel compelled to share. They don't know everything, so as long as I tell them something they should be satisfied.

Minerva laughed at that, "How very Slytherin of you, Hermione."

"Oh! That reminds me of the best part!" Hermione exclaimed. "Aren't you wondering how I plan on making the world believe any of my nonsensical ramblings? It's no secret that I have always been the least favored among the Golden Trio."

Minerva nodded, "I had wondered, but I didn't want to dash your hopes."

"No dashing necessary, I have a secret weapon. I've written to one Draco Malfoy," she explained. "I think he will hate it, but he will help me. He owes me quite a bit, actually. I saved his life several times, and I testified at his hearing to allow him minimum legal repercussions following the war. And—well, I saw him during the whole—episode. He was nearly as horrified as I was, not that he will ever admit it. I think that he still hates me, but will be willing to help me."

Minerva nodded, "Perhaps my judgment is faulty, but I never thought Draco was of the same spirit as his father. He was just a brainwashed child who wanted to please his incredibly abusive father. It doesn't excuse what he has done, nor what he has failed to do, but that is still my character analysis."

"I agree," Hermione nodded. "That was one thing that Harry, Ron, and I could never agree on."

"Well I do hope you are successful, Hermione. These rumors, and the treatment—it's not right Hermione, they're not right. You do know that don't you?" Hermione nodded silently. "Now you need to head to class, Remus will have my head if you're late again."

"Alright, I'll see you tomorrow Minerva," she smiled, picking up her back and hurrying from the room.

"Till tomorrow, Hermione."


Hermione sat pouring over a transfiguration text when a knock sounded outside of her chambers. Her eyebrows raised, she was unaccustomed to anyone visiting her here. Opening the portrait she nearly drew her wand, before remembering herself. "Draco Malfoy, I can't say I was expecting you here," she greeted.

The blond looked anxiously around him, and Hermione realized how difficult it must be for him to be in the castle, "Come in," she said reluctantly, "I hope you are not offended if I keep hold of my wand for the moment, I trust very few of my old friends' these days, let alone my old enemies."

He nodded curtly, "I would consider you to be lacking in all your faculties if you didn't."

"Forgive my rudeness, but what are you doing here Draco?"

He sighed heavily, "I would like to discuss your letter."

She nodded, urging him to continue.

"I am—willing, to assist you. As loathe as I am to admit it, you have been greatly wronged by my family, and myself, and I owe you a favor, to say the least," she genuinely smiled at his words. "But, I would have some terms.

"Thank you, Malfoy," she replied, "What are your terms?"

"I am currently engaged," he confided, "She is pregnant."

Hermione looked at him shocked, "Wow, I didn't expect that."

"Neither did I," he admitted, smiling genuinely for the first time. "But I love her, and am happy. The problem is, I have a reputation. You know that, I know that. I have no way to erase or make up for what I've done, and that reputation will affect my son." Hermione nodded, they both knew there was no point in lying about this fact. "What I am trying to do, is refrain from causing more trouble for him. I want to separate myself from my family's legacy, and I don't want to add to the villainous character I make. While I will speak for you, I must insist that neither I myself— nor my current actions, be villainized in any way through this piece.

"I know that we aren't friends, and I realize you have every reason to hate me. But you are also honest. You know, I had nothing to do with that day," He grimaced, looking at his feet. "My wife and child will have to live with my reputation as a death eater, and a murderer. I would prefer if rapist was not added to that resume."

"Malfoy," she began carefully. "I have complete control over everything which is released in those articles, and I promise you, there will not be a single negative comment. I—I saw how that day affected you, I pay attention. You were nearly as frantic as Harry, Ron, and I. You may not be perfect, but you don't deserve to be tormented."

He nodded, "So when would this interview take place?"

"I'm not sure yet, I'm still working on scheduling them. I assume they would schedule yours separately though, unless you would like to have them at the same time."

He shook his head, "I'm fine with whatever you choose. Just let me know."

"Thank you, Malfoy. This means a lot to me."

He nodded, "I just," he hesitated for a moment before looking at her meaningfully. "I wish I could have done more.

She nodded, as he suddenly donned his traditional smirk, "And you should have believed me about Weasel from the start," he winked, walking out of her door.

She shook her head, but couldn't stop herself from laughing.


It was three weeks later that the first article hit newsstands. Hermione had known the date, she had scheduled it herself—and yet at 1:00 A.M. she found herself flooing to Minerva McGonagall's chambers.

"Mi-Minerva?" she called out, and watched as the older woman jumped from her seat on the couch.

"Hermione? What on earth are you doing here?"

Hermione shook, "I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't be here. But I can't breathe, and my chest is constricting, and I think I'm having a heart attack—can 19 year olds have heart attacks? And I didn't know where to go, or who to talk to, but that's dumb, I probably should have gone to the Hospital Wing. If you're having a heart attack you go to Hospital Wing. Fuck!" she swore, "I'm sorry Minerva, I'm just going to go to the Hospital Wing," she said as she stepped towards the fire.

Minerva grabbed her quickly, "Hermione! Slow down, you don't even have any floo powder, and I would prefer if you didn't burn to death in my living room," she said quickly. "You're not having a heart attack, you're just panicking. Stay here just a moment," she begged as she ran into her bathroom.

Hermione heard her digging through a cabinet, and she emerged holding a vile of calming draught, "This will help," she explained.

Hermione drank down the vile without question, and sank down onto Minerva's couch, "What am I going to do, Minerva?"

"About what, Hermione?"

"This article, it is going to be released tomorrow," she said quietly, and Minerva wrapped a supporting arm around her shoulders. "Everyone is going to know."

"Hermione, it'll be alright. Everyone is going to realize how much stronger you are than they even realized before. Everyone will understand, you'll see."

Hermione nodded, "I hope so," she whispered, leaning into Minerva. "I'm just scared."

Minerva closed her eyes tightly, she was scared too.