BLINDED CHAPTER 12
Mrs. Fareweather
Hermione smiled as she held onto Sirius's arm while they strolled through Diagon Alley. Sirius had insisted on escorting her while she window-shopped; he was enjoying the enthusiasm that radiated from the beautiful women on his arm. It was when they were in the middle of browsing the new line of unique Wizarding robes that the first flash of a bulb snapped them out of their happy bubble. Sirius stiffened his hold on Hermione's arm and quietly asked her what the noise was. At first she didn't answer, her expression steely as she stared hard into the smug face of Rita Skeeter, who was telling her photographer to hurry up and take some more pictures.
"Miss Gramger! Pleased to see you out and about…and with Sirius Black. Hmm. How long have you two been having this torrid affair? Can you tell me what attracted you, a mere girl, to a wizard twice your age and crippled?" Rita asked, scorn and delight dripping from her tongue.
Sirius froze when he heard her vile questions. His hand was already reaching for his wand when Hermione grabbed his other arm and whispered stiffly for him to ignore it and started pulling him along so they could leave. "Come on, Sirius, we don't have to lower ourselves to her standards. It's not worth it," she said, both of them winding their way through the store to the exit.
Hermione was opening the door when Rita, who was close on their heels, called out, "Now wait just one minute there, Miss Gremger! The public has a right to know why Mr. Black decided to cope with his injury by means of pedophilia!" Sirius's breath left him, his rage almost giving him a moment of sight again. But before he could make another move toward his wand, Hermione beat him to it.
She stopped, turned around, marched straight up to Rita Skeeter and slugged her smack in the nose, breaking the protruding bone with an ear-splitting crunch. Sirius smiled, recognizing the sound of physical violence immediately and knowing his girl had just done him proud. The photographer was relentlessly taking pictures of Rita, who was sprawled on the floor crying in rage. Sirius said, "Come on, dear, I guess she got the answer she was looking for. We're done here." Hermione huffed and aimed one final glare at the blond witch on the floor before grabbing Sirius's outstretched hand and leaving the store with him.
The next morning Molly huffed and puffed, nearly out of breath, as she rushed through the crowd entering Diagon Alley from the Leaky Cauldron in hopes of getting the first copy of that morning's newspaper. She smiled and eagerly snatched up a copy of the Daily Prophet at the newsstand and stood off to the side to admire the front page.
Hermione Gringer: Dangerous! Yesterday afternoon I was horrified by the blatant attack on my person. One Miss Hermione Grimger viciously and deliberately attacked me while I was merely doing my job. In an attempt to find answers as to why one Sirius Black has dared to instigate an torrid affair with Hermione, a mere girl, I was viciously answered by the Muggle-born with violence of the lowest kind. Knocked unconscious by her practiced blow to my nose, I was lucky to survive considering the amount of blood that was lost. My brave photographer took the pictures below, capturing the whole incident on film to show the world what happened. My only hope is that someone at the Ministry looks into this situation and finds out what crimes might make it worth prosecuting this dangerous pair.
The article went on to describe many supposed lurid details about the relationship; the lies and prejudice infusing every word made Molly smile with delight. She knew that damage control and a new public image of the happy housewife would have to be taken care of after Hermione and Ron got married, but she knew this article alone was enough to push Sirius and Hermione apart for good. It was a very happy Molly Weasley who went home to take care of her family.
Hermione stared off into the fire in the sitting room at home, waving her wand over her hand every fifteen minutes to prolong the "Invisible Ice" spell and hoping that the swelling would stop sometime soon. From where he sat next to her on the couch Sirius was explaining everything that had happened yesterday to Remus, who smirked with Marauder camaraderie at the proud tone that laced Sirius voice as he described the moment he heard Rita Skeeter cry out in pain and hit the floor.
"I have to say, Hermione, I'm quite pleased to hear you doing us Marauders proud. I would have paid dearly to be there in person instead reading about it on the front page of the Prophet," Remus said offhandedly, his smile faltering when he saw Hermione and Sirius stiffen at the mention of the paper. "What, you didn't know? Hermione, you had to know that after a punch like that Skeeter wasn't going to just ignore why she was there at the store in the first place...."
"I…I just didn't think she'd still go on with the story after I humiliated her. Where's the paper? I want to see it," Hermione replied, looking around the room at the multitude of papers stacked here and there. Remus pointed to the one in the middle of the coffee table and watched the color drain from her face when she started to read.
Sirius stiffened beside her, somehow sensing her distress, and asked carefully, "What is it? What did she say?"
His own face blanched in horror when Hermione read him the story, though he wasn't upset for himself, but for Hermione. "That's it. I've had it with that woman. I say we march right down there and make sure she never uses a quill to blacken people's reputations again. I may be a sensation, but the name Black still commands a certain amount of respect at the Ministry!"
"No, Sirius, we won't do that. Short of committing murder, the Prophet would never get rid of their biggest earner. No, I say we just lie low for a few weeks, maybe even leave for a while. Let's take this situation and make something good come of it, please?" Hermione replied quietly.
"Hermione's right, Sirius, the vultures will be all over you two after that article. Getting away would be the perfect way to let things die down. Besides, with you guys away I can concentrate on finding out who leaked the news of your relationship to that hag. You've hardly left the house, so it's likely that someone told her deliberately."
"You're right, I would like to know who the rat is. But where can we go that we won't be recognized? I mean, ever since the war ended our faces have been recognized time and again," Sirius said, trying not to let the sudden excitement of a trip alone with Hermione make him seem eager to take advantage of the current situation.
"You could go to the country manor near the coast – you know, the one where the Order members met with the Aurors who helped us out from the inside? No one's been there since, and it's really remote. You'd have all the privacy you need to relax and let this blow over."
"Well, I guess a little vacation wouldn't hurt. But you have to promise to come see us the minute you find out who told that…that wench!" said Hermione. With that said, she left the room and headed upstairs to pack, hoping the time alone with Sirius would successfully calm the rage that simmered inside her. They had been betrayed by someone close to them. Whoever it was, she was determined that they would pay for humiliating and slandering Sirius.
She and Sirius left soon afterward, sending out a few owls to inform the others that the "intervention" would be delayed for two weeks.
Ron's jaw dropped as he read the short letter that had been delivered by a plain tawny owl. "Harry! Harry, come here and read this!"
"Hold your broom. I have one more page, then I'm done with this stupid chapter!"
"Harry, put down the stupid homework and come read this! Hermione and Sirius are going on a spur-of-the-moment vacation to get away from some mess that blonde woman at the Prophet started. Remus wants us to be at Grimmauld for dinner tonight to help him ferret out whoever caused the problem!"
"Ron if you're going to read it to me, why ask me to come look at it myself?" Harry remarked, sitting back down at his desk irritably. "Let me know when it's time to leave. I have to finish this write-up before tomorrow." Ron sheepishly agreed to remind him and put the note away to get started on his own homework.
Sirius had been to the manor a few times towards the end of the war. But with everything being as hectic as it had been then, he hardly remembered what it looked like. He had a vague recollection that it was three stories tall; the look might be Victorian. It was certainly old enough to be; that much he did remember. The manor and the surrounding land were close to Brighton, but not close enough to ruin the isolated and peaceful feeling visitors had when they were there. Hermione had been nothing short of bubbly when she first saw the house, and she insisted they spend their first few hours reacquainting Sirius with the layout of the house, a feat that ended up taking all day. But Sirius didn't mind in the least; any excuse for him to hold onto Hermione was worth the time.
For the sake of simplicity Hermione suggested they sleep in one of the smaller suites on the second floor, instead of the third floor which was basically a master suite on its own. The room was cozy and just as big as Sirius's at home. After a few quick flourishes of her wand to tidy the room, Hermione dragged Sirius down to the kitchen to keep her company while she cooked them something for their first night alone.
"Harry, Ron! Thanks for coming on short notice. I know you're both busy at school, but I'm going to need your help this weekend for something I have planned," Remus said, an odd smile overcoming his features – one that Harry remembered seeing in an old photo album full of the Marauders' school pictures.
"So what exactly did you have in mind? We picked up our own copy of the Daily Prophet on the way over," Harry replied, irritated with the whole mess. "It was a madhouse at that newsstand, everyone was drooling over that gossiping dingbat's article. A few reporters tried to flag us down for an interview, but Ron just told 'em to piss off."
Remus chuckled, picturing the gangly Ron telling off the press. "Okay, this is my plan...."
Rita Skeeter couldn't believe her luck. If this tip turned out to be as good as the Sirius-Gronger one, it carried a potential ten times greater than her current story. So it was with great surprise that she entered the room on the top floor of the posh Muggle hotel in London and found herself immediately bound tightly with a classic Incarcerous curse that wrapped her from shoulders to feet in a thin, solid rope. She was nearly knocked to the floor by the force of the spell, but luckily someone from across the room caught her magically and positioned her upright. She was about to scream a spell of her own, since her hand was conveniently resting on her wand inside her pocket, but before she could utter a word she heard a murmured "Expelliarmus" behind her and was instantly disarmed. Before she could scream in frustration, someone covered in a dark red cloak put a glass of what looked like tea up to her mouth and forced her to swallow the lukewarm contents. She sputtered and coughed and wondered what kind of poison the tea contained, hoping her death wouldn't too painful. Before she could finish the thought, she felt an irresistible wave of honesty flow over her, overcoming her normal shield of lies. She consciously rebelled against the feeling, unwilling to be so open, but she knew that it must have been Veritaserum in the tea. Bloody hell.
Her insides quaked as she felt herself floating, still upright, further into the room. She damn near exploded in fear and anger when she saw who waited for her in the small living room. Ron Weasley walked ahead of her and seated himself in one of the chairs across from Harry Potter, Remus Lupin, and – last but not least – Mary Jane Fareweather, the head of the Ministry's Press Relations department. Mrs. Fareweather made sure the Daily Prophet, The Quibbler, and other such publications represented the British Ministry of Magic in the most dignified way possible. Also, she had been itching for any excuse to run Rita out of the newspaper business altogether. Double bloody hell.
Mrs. Fareweather smiled at Rita and said, "So, Miss Skeeter, I suppose you have an inkling of why this...meeting...has been arranged?" Rita grimaced as she nodded, knowing exactly where this was going. Who couldn't guess, with a Weasley and Mr. Potter in attendance?
"Good. This will make things so much easier, then. I hope you don't mind, but I'm recording this interview with my Quick Quotes Quill," Mrs. Fareweather said, barely able to conceal her enjoyment of this moment. "First we need to confirm what Misters Lupin, Weasley, and Potter have told me, then we can get into the dirty little details. Who was it who told you Sirius Black was involved with Hermione Granger?"
"Mrs. Molly Weasley," Rita replied, flinching when Ron stood up and began to hotly spew a lot of very crude words.
Mrs. Fareweather frowned at the interruption and said, "Mr. Weasley, I understand your dismay, but please control yourself. Now, Rita, why don't you share with us everything Mrs. Weasley said to you?"
It was an angry Ron who slammed open the front door to number twelve Grimmauld Place, followed by a weary Remus and Harry. Ron paced the kitchen while Harry and Remus sat quietly; they were all thinking about what to do next. "I can not believe her! My own mother! How could she hurt Hermione like that? How could she hurt me like that? She's out of her bloody mind, that's what! What do I say to my dad?" exclaimed Ron, finally falling into a seat across from them, defeated and confused, but most of all hurt.
"Ron, I think the best thing to do is talk to your father. Let's send him an owl and have him meet us here. If anyone is going to approach Molly, it should be Sirius and Hermione. But Arthur needs to be there as well. I'll send an owl off to him, and one to Sirius and Hermione also. Once they all arrive we'll talk this through and go ahead with the intervention. Mrs. Fareweather promised to take care of Rita, so Molly is our only concern, okay?"
Hermione giggled and picked up the bottle of Firewhisky before Sirius could touch it. "No more liquor for you, mister. I think you've finally drunk too much," replied Hermione, merely amused in her own current state of drunkenness.
"I'm serious! Let's just do it! I know a guy at the Ministry who performs spur-of-the-moment weddings. We'll get hitched, and then there's nothing that hag Molly can say!"
"Sirius, be serious! You just don't get married for something as ridiculous as Molly Weasley's personal campaign, or bad press about your personal life. Besides, wouldn't you want Remus there with you? And Harry and Ron and...."
Sirius interrupted her by getting up from his chair and sinking to his knees in front of her. Despite their drunken haze, it was clear that he was being serious now. "Hermione, I don't care how we do it as long as one day you make me the happiest man alive by saying 'I do'!" he said, taking her hand and letting her see the love in his eyes.
Suddenly Hermione felt the foggy, liquored-up feeling slip away to be replaced by roiling emotions that welled up and dripped slowly down her cheeks. Sirius's breath froze in his chest when he realized what her sudden silence might mean.
"Sirius...I...." Hermione started. She closed her mouth and took a deep breath before saying, "Ask me," ever so quietly.
Sirius paused while his own drunken haze faded away, wanting to be sure he wasn't dreaming. "Hermione Granger, will you marry me?"
A/N: *Smiles Evilly* Please read and review!!! And just a reminder to all of those people who think this is rushed… remember back to the first chapter where I clearly stated that Hermione had been in love with him for quite a while.. And Sirius was as well, though he just wasn't aware of it until then… ;p(Edited 11-10-08) (Now that all the editing is done... I'm going to write a new chapter! It should be up soon.... *HUGS*)
