Hello, darlings. The only positive things about the last three weeks of work, is that I have at least the next two chapters first drafted. I know everyone is super excited about the family dinner, but some things have to happen first. I hope they don't disappoint. I own nothing, not even my sanity at this point. Thank you all for reading and supporting this story. Especially those of you who wanted while I finished my other story. Virtual hugs!

Chapter 14: The Week Before Sunday Dinner

Tuesday Hermione and Cassius met with potential clients at the Diagon Alley office. Fred and George took turns running next door to ask if a particular prank seemed too far if mixed with another, entertaining both Katie and Cassius to no end. Just before one o'clock, Hermione took a moment to freshen up. "Cas, are you ready for lunch?"
"Mrs. Malfoy confirmed the reservations this morning. Just let me put this file away."
Hermione turned to Katie, "Any lunch plans?"
"Thirty minutes of hell with Santiago Campos Reza. I don't speak Portuguese or Spanish, he barely speaks English."
"There are translation spells."
"He doesn't know any and refuses to let me cast one on him."
"That does complicate things."
"And we end up having crappy lunches. But Ades is taking me out tonight, my choice."
"Where are you going?"
"Finnegan's, I know, I know, a lot of Gryffindors are regulars. But most of them are my friends. He needs to get to know mine."
"Sure, no judgment, so long as you meet his. Livingston agreed to come meet the Weasleys Sunday."
"Is that what the twins are on about." Katie's eyes widened with realization.
"Yeah."
"He's doomed."
"That's the point." Cassius walked into their laughter simply shaking his head at their antics. He crossed the room and opened the door, holding it for Hermione.
The two made their way through the lunchtime crowds of Diagon Alley. As they passed the bookstore, Hermione grinned at Cassius, "Do you know what the best part of being your own boss is?"
"You can give yourself a raise whenever you want?" he joked.
"No," she laughed, "you can bribe yourself with trips to the bookstore to get through tedious lunch meetings and not have to worry about time constraints."
He frowned, "I know you and the Malfoys have some rough history, but I thought you and Drake got on for the most part."
"Not him, him." She jerked her head in the direction of Max Romanov, who was making his way to them through the throng, calling over the bustle of shoppers for Hermione to wait. "He is about to invite himself to lunch, regardless of where we are headed or any opinions we might have."
"What if you were headed to lunch with another suitor?"
"It isn't against any regulations. Ginny checked into it for Harry. They thought if he 'accidentally' invited two of his more aggressive dates to the same event it might keep them at bay."
"Did it?"
"No," Hermione said flatly. "It made them competitive with each other."
"Poor Harry."
"That's one way to look at it." He raised an eyebrow at her. "Not all men think having two women hanging off of you constantly to be a bad thing."
"I see."
Aware that Romanov would dog their steps to the cafe, Hermione made no effort to evade the man. Allowing him to crash her lunch meeting would mean she could avoid one on one time with him until the next week at the earliest, longer if she could engineer another group outing. "Max," she greeted him with a thin smile, "how nice to see you." Her tone barely hiding her thoughts to the contrary.
He took her hand and raised it to his lips, pressing a wet kiss to the back of it. She fought the urge to snatch it back and wipe it on her skirt. She was going to invest in hand sanitizer the next time she went to the drugstore, possibly several large bottles in addition to a pocket sized one. "How wonderful to see you, my dear. Where are you off to this fine afternoon?" He barely acknowledged Cassius.
"Max, this is Cassius Warrington, my colleague. Cas, this is Maximilian Romanov."
Cassius held out his hand, "Pleasure to meet you."
"Likewise." Max attempted to keep the wince of pain from his face when Cassius applied pressure to his hand.
"We're meeting clients for lunch."
"I love business lunches. Shall we?" He acted like Hermione had invited him along. Behind his back she smirked at Cassius, rolling her eyes. She had predicted his behavior exactly.
Arriving at the same time as the Malfoys, the four British wizards conducted a silent conversation through a series of glances. Narcissa, sympathetic to the plight of the younger witch, graciously notified the staff that they had added one to their party. Excited to have not only the wealthy purebloods dining there, but a member of the Golden Trio, the manager took all of this in stride and changed their seating arrangements accordingly. That this put the group at a table in the front window certainly did not disappoint him one bit.
Ever the consummate society hostess, Narcissa displayed grace in the face of obvious social climbing. Hermione struggled to keep a straight face as Draco and Cassius began trying to outdo each other name dropping. Once they exhausted their friends, they pulled Hermione into their antics by asking about her friends. Romanov ate it up like a cat with cream. When she deemed they had had their fun, Narcissa inquired as to Hermione's plans for that evening.
"Neville Longbottom and I are going into Muggle London to see a movie."
"Oh, which one?" she asked politely as if she would understand the answer.
"We're going to a theater that shows classic films. If Neville doesn't care, I'm leaning more towards "Meet Me in St Louis" rather than "Casablanca." But next week we are definitely seeing "Breakfast at Tiffany's. I love Audrey Hepburn."
Narcissa nodded sagely, "Why St Louis over the other?"
"While Bogie and Bergman are amazing, Casablanca is a bittersweet romance about putting the greater good ahead of your own happiness, right now I need the escapism of happily ever after."
"But both are romances?" asked Max.
"That is a huge oversimplification of the stories, but yes, the romance element is a large part of the story." Draco opened his mouth, "No, I am not going to explain the plots. Broaden your horizons and go to the cinema yourself. Or find someone with a DVD player or VCR and watch them."
"We're not all Longbottom, able to go adventuring weekly to impress a witch," Draco groused.
"He's not doing it to impress me. I'm teaching him enough to navigate his way to impressing someone else."
Max gaped at her, "You are helping the competition?" He looked incredulous.
She shrugged, "I don't see her as competition. Neville likes her. He might have asked her out had this law not occurred. This is something she expressed an interest in doing. It is something I can help him with. Neville is my friend, I want him to be happy. I don't see this as a contest. Marriage and children are too important to treat like a game with people prizes."
Draco eyed her appraisingly, "Your muggle is showing, Granger." She stuck out her tongue at him. He chuckled, "I find it refreshing. Someone looking at the people involved instead of the bank vaults or career prospects."
"Did someone ask to see your portfolio, Malfoy?" she sassed.
"No, she gave me an updated file of it." He shuddered. Cassius and Romanov fought not to laugh. "Go ahead, let it out. You'll only give yourselves a stroke." He grinned morosely at their merriment.
Hermione, on the other hand, turned her torso to square off with Draco. "How did she get that information?"
"My solicitors are looking into that."
"What do the aurors think?"
Draco shrugged, "They said I would need proof she broke the law obtaining it."
Hermione's eyes narrowed, "Name?"
"What?" Draco asked confused by her rapid change in demeanor. "Oh, uh, Orene Delacruz."
She shot to her feet, "Thank you for lunch, you must excuse me. I have a thing I need to do."
The men rose to their feet, Draco voicing their shared confusion, "What could you have suddenly remembered that is so pressing?"
"I have to go yell at ministry officials. Warning, my tone may approach tones only dogs can hear."
Narcissa looked to Cassius, clearly concerned, "Mistress Granger, you do not," she paused, "that is," again she paused, struggling to decide what to say. Finally, she settled on, "Why?"
"Would Draco have asked this woman out on a date without this law?"
"I should hope not, the vulgar thing invited herself to dinner and began verbally redecorating." Disgust laced Narcissa's voice.
"Would you have shared this information with her on a first or second date?"
"Not even with an arranged marriage. She proceeded to instruct me on what properties to sell or buy, which investments she would take over as her allowance. Which even in those instances isn't done."
"Exactly, and if she was able to do this, so were others. And I was quite clear about the type of things I would not tolerate when this travesty began." She nodded curtly, executed a turn that would have made Snape envious, and exited the cafe.
Romanov swallowed hard, "Since I arrived in Britain, people have spoken of Hermione Granger, the Gryffindor Lioness. I had thought them just stories, now, I think they all to be true."
"One of her best mates calls her brilliant, but scary, mate," Cassius informed him with a clap to the shoulder.
Hermione strode across the atrium of the Ministry, her eyes flashing dangerously. Those that knew her by reputation shivered as she passed. Those that knew her personally fled, praying she wasn't looking for them. A crusading Hermione was a Hermione to be feared, a sight most of them remembered well. She burst into the auror corp office, causing heads to snap up at the sound. "I am here to see Robards, please."
Most of the wizards looked at one another nervously, why would such a famous witch want to see the head auror?
"Now, miss..." started an older wizard approaching her, his tone placating.
"Granger, Hermione Granger. Please do not insult me with platitudes and the runaround. Robards can talk to me now, or after I drag this department through the mud in the press."
"Now, Miss Granger," he started again with no change in tone.
"Mistress." she interrupted calmly.
"Pardon?"
"My title is mistress. And before you try to claim he is too busy, he can make

the time. I promise he wants to take the time. I have a rather serious complaint." She crossed her arms, staring sternly at the assembled aurors. "Unless he wants me to make a formal complaint?" She raised an eyebrow.
The secretary at the desk sneered, "Yes, he does, missy. You upstarts always swanning in and out of the Ministry like we owe you something. You're no more important than anyone else."
Hermione uncrossed her arms, placing her hands on her hips, "First, you absolutely do owe me. You were an adult while I was a child, an adult in law enforcement. It was your job to protect me, something you failed at for seven years while we were at war. Second, I am more important. My mastery entitles me to be treated as a lady of the realm, as does my Order of Merlin, first class. Those are your rules, not my beliefs, by the way." She surveyed the room, "But by all means, let's do this the fun way. Goldstein, come take my formal complaint."
Anthony Goldstein swallowed nervously. The former Ravenclaw remembered the fiery Gryffindor and worried about why she thought this would be the fun way. He doubted it was because of a love for paperwork. "Of course, Mistress Granger, this way, please." He gestured towards his desk.
"Who is that odious person?"
"Assistant Head Auror Mortimer Nelson." He held out a chair for her. "Let me get the forms."
"Do you enjoy being an auror?" she inquired politely.
"Like all jobs, it had goods and bad. Congratulations on your dual masteries."
"Thank you, and call me Hermione."
"Um, Hermione, ten seconds ago you wanted to tear Nelson's heart and eat it raw, why the change?"
"You weren't condescending and rude. Why should I snap at you?"
Anthony pulled out of the formal complaint forms for nobles. He paled out the size of the pile. "There are twice as many pages than normal complaints."
"I know," she patted his hand. "Don't worry, I have plenty of time."
"There is a cop, for Ministry, the Wizengamot, the Head of Law Enforcement, and the press."
"I know. That's why I asked if he was sure he wanted to go this route."
"What's the nature of your complaint?"
"Mind if I take down notes first, then put it down on the forms?"
"That's fine with me."
"What's the nature of your complaint?"
"Orene Delacruz obtained Draco Malfoy's bank information and investment portfolio, including private information that could be considered corporate espionage."
"That's not good. Why isn't Malfoy here making the complaint?"
"He tried. The aurors on duty told him that he needed to do their job for them before they would take his report." The warmth vanished from her tone.
"What?" he stared at her slack jawed.
"The same holier than thou desk jockeys who just told me I wasn't more important than any other citizen, told another citizen he wasn't important at all. Also, since she obtained this information for use under the marriage law, that violates Malfoy's right to privacy under the law."
"Oh, Merlin, the public is going to eat us alive."
"I suggest throwing the peon and the harpy under the bus."
"I know that one. Justin used to say that. Agreed." He broke the seal securing the envelope, a bright blue light flashed briefly. "Interesting."
"That doesn't happen all the time?"
"It does not. Well, shall we? Name?"
"Hermione Jean Granger, mistress of rune and ritual magic."
"Perpetrator, if known?"
"Orene Delacruz."
"Are you the victim?"
"No, that would be Draco Malfoy."
"Crime?"
"Invasion of privacy, corporate espionage, and theft of information. Perhaps trespassing, and breaking and entering."
Goldstein nodded as he wrote her words down. His mouth opened to ask the next question, when Gawain Robards and Kingsley Shacklebolt burst into the room, scanning the office as they entered. Noticing the tightening of her face, Kingsley tapped Robards on the shoulder and moved in her direction. "Hermione."
"Don't you Hermione me. I refuse to be placated. I asked to see Robards when I arrived. The front desk rebuffed my request, demanding I file a formal complaint, so I am."
"Why would Ms. Cornwall do that?"
"Based on her comments, I think to put me in my place. You know us, uppity war heroes, always throwing our weight around, demanding special privileges."
Robards read over Goldstein's shoulder, "Mistress Granger, why didn't Mr. Malfoy report this himself?"
"He tried. The aurors on duty told him he needed to prove a crime took place."
Kingsley shook his head in disbelief, "Hence your presence."
"You know me, champion of the oppressed, hater of injustice. And if we want to create a new society, we have to support everyone."
"And asking you to back down smacks of corruption, doesn't it?" Robards sounded defeated.
"That depends."
"On?"
"Why are you asking and what you intend to do next. And you following through."
"I put in a lot of hard work reforming this department. This kind of bad press would destroy everything we're working for." He ran his hands through his hair. "We have more work ahead of us."
"Look into Malfoy's issue and step up your reforms. It has been six years. No more excuses."
"Agreed."
Hermione stood, "Very well. So long as Malfoy notifies me you're been in touch within twenty-four hours I withdraw my complaint. Fail me and I'll be back."
'Meet Me In St Louis' generated more questions than Hermione expected. Neville enjoyed the fun romances of the older Smith sisters but didn't understand what a world's fair was, or why it lasted so long. Then the muggle innovations like streetcars, hot dog buns, and ice cream cones. "Neville, you're sucking all the fun out of this, please. If I wanted to explain this I would teach Muggle Studies!"
"Sorry, though you would be brilliant at the job."
"It's okay, just one question at a time." She directed him into the closest ice cream shop and ordered two ice cream cones. She explained about the 1904 World's Fair and turn of the century muggle mass transportation."
"Last question- why did they all keep breaking into song?"
"The movie is a musical, a stage production, or movie, that moves the story along using songs and dances. West End does live productions."
"Could we?" he started.
"For your first anniversary."
"What if Hannah doesn't pick me?"
"Someone will, you're Neville Longbottom, war hero and Herbology master. You're on the fast track to teach at Hogwarts. You're second on my list."
"Thanks, Hermione. You're second on my list, too."
"While some people would be insulted, I know that is a compliment." They both laughed.

Wednesday evening Hermione informed her employees she would be out of the office Thursday. After she finished describing her plans, the Weasley twins refused to let her leave the office until she promised she and Harry would take THEM to Alton Towers soon. Cassius gave her a questioning look. "I'm not taking those two to an amusement park without back up or leashes." She looked him up and down, "You? Maybe. Them? Hell, no."
The next morning she dressed in a vest top and jeans with sensible trainers, liberally applying sunblock to her face and shoulders. She did the same to Viktor at his flat. "Harry expressed envy at our going to these Towers at Alton without him."
"As I often remind him, he is an adult capable of going to these places without me. I am not his social planner."
"He says more fun with you. I agree, everything more fun with you." He kissed her cheek.
"Flattery will get you everywhere, sir."
"Good." He gave her a second peck on the lips.
At the park closing, they clasped hands and let the crowd carry them towards the exit. "You are now more of contradiction, book bug," Viktor told her.
"How so?"
"You hate broom flying. You refuse, vehemently."
"Yes," she responded, somewhat confused.
"But you enjoy these roller coasters?"
"Again, yes."
"Contradiction."
"It isn't the flying I fear, it is the fear of falling to my death that gets me. Coasters have tracks and safety harnesses. Absolutely nothing to keep you from flying off or falling to your death."
"I see." He twined his fingers with hers.
"You're laughing at me," she faux pouted.
"No, I am laughing with you. You just are not laughing yet."
"You seem very sure I will."
"You will," he said confidentially. He beamed down at her. She fought to keep from even smiling, but failed miserably as his laughter became infectious. "See, I win."
"I wasn't aware we were competing, Mr. Krum. I would have tried harder."
"Most of life is some kind of contest, Mistress Granger."
"Interesting philosophy."
He stopped walking, their linked hands stopping her as well. The rest of the crowd parted around them. "Sometimes we will, sometimes lose. Occasionally we get a rematch. Obicham te. Ti si nai-hubauoto neshto, keoeto mi se e sluchavalo," he told her, caressing her cheek with his thumb.
She stared up at him for a moment before responding, "Az se chuvstuam po absolyutno sashtiya nachin."
"I tink without this law we might have been able to start again without pressure."
"Just so you know, there is no competition on my list. You're so far in the lead no one could ever catch up."
"He scoffed, "You expect me to tink no other man can see how beautiful, or intelligent, you are? The famous Hermione Granger?"
"That's all they see. And honestly, obicham te. Ti si nai-hubauoto neshto, keoeto mi se e sluchavalo." Viktor froze, the ease of the words rolling off her tongue finally sinking in. "I'd marry you tomorrow if the ministry would let us."
"Hermione, you speak Bulgarian now?"
"And Swedish. That's your takeaway from all this? I speak your language, the same language as my runes mentor?"
"Sorry, wait, you have understood me all along?"
"Every adorable confession. But you obviously wanted to say those things without a response, so I never said anything. Think of it as an odd way of respecting your privacy."
"Tank you, I tink."
"You're

welcome." She resumed walking, Viktor following.
"Now what?" he asked.
Hermione shrugged, "Not much we can do. The law prevents elopement until after the selections are made."
"Hate that you still have five weeks of those wizards vying for you."
"Neville isn't vying. And after Sunday Livingston won't be either. I feel bad for the poor woman who ends up with him."
"He may not be paired with anyone," Viktor pointed out.
"That seems even worse. How am I among that man's best matches?"
"Maybe he doesn't have a true match, just collection on names."
"Reverse that, how is he one of my best matches?"
Viktor pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her. "Do not know, do not care." He kissed her forehead at her hairline. "You want to be mine, I want to be yours."
"Ugh," she sagged against him. "I'm going to get hate mail again, aren't I?"
He chuckled, "Unlikely. You are no longer little nobody muggleborn. I might be the one with hate mail. Britain's Brilliant Brain tied to Brainless Bulgarian Jock."
"Sure, that's how this works. Come on, let's go home."
"Not home until I share it with you," he told her.
"How do you feel about living with Harry for a bit?"
"Serious request, or joking?"
"A little from Column A and a little from Column B."
"Would need more explanation."
"I told you before Harry doesn't want to live alone, he hates it."
"He will not be alone, will have wife."
"Who, based on my assessment, will be a near stranger. Trust me, give him a dark wizard to defeat, or a little golden ball to catch-he's your man. New, unknown social situations? He's hopeless, completely falls apart. After the war, we never gave solo interviews because he refused. After Skeeter's shite, I can't blame him. So, both. If you are opposed I will, of course, go with your feelings on the matter. If you aren't, Harry could use our support."
"When can I move in?"
Her entire face lit up, "Really?"
"You are important to me, Harry is important to you. Many old families live together for generations."
"I assume letting you more in before the grand finale of this charade would be considered 'choosing prematurely.'"
"Because no one else is displaying bias in their behavior," he rolled his eyes.
"Are you suggesting corruption in the wizarding world, sir? Shame on you."
"This gives Harry and I time to make some renovations to the house."

"So long as he understands we are not staying forever."

"We'll ease him into it." she stood on her toes and kissed him. "Thank you for this."

"At some point, you will be able to make a grand gesture for me. Like agreeing to two weddings," he finished sheepishly.

Understanding spread across her face. "One in Britain to be legal and one in Bulgaria for your family and friends. Hell, we could end up with three, might need a muggle one for my gran." Viktor looked pained, then resigned to his fate. "I'm kidding. My parents can attend the magical one here and we'll tell Gran we married in Bulgaria. She refuses to travel abroad, so she'll have no one to blame but herself for missing it." She beamed at him.

He tapped her nose. "Not nice, book bug."

"People often forget I am not always nice."